#hoping my little arts will get me through the exam (and holiday) season
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unorganisedalienrubbish Ā· 1 year ago
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Just wanted to remind everyone, my commissions are open!
I haven't done any commision work before, but in the run up to the holidays if you would like some art for your friends and family I will draw pretty much anything.
I'm currently working on a set of Beatrix Potter inspired Christmas cards! So if you wanted to recommend a character/creature I'd like that very much <3
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onlyswan Ā· 11 months ago
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Hi artttttā¤ļøšŸ«¶ā¤ļøšŸ«¶ā¤ļøšŸ«¶
How are youuuu??? I missed you smšŸ˜­ā¤ļøšŸ˜­ā¤ļø
How have you been omg!!! I feel like I missed on a lot of stuff lol
I LOVED THE NEW DRABBLEšŸ˜­ itā€™s so fucking cute ahh jungkook and oc are the cutest!!!
AND???? THE END ??!??!??!!!!! ART???
What the fuck is going on!!!!!šŸ˜­šŸ˜­šŸ˜­šŸ˜­šŸ˜­šŸ˜­šŸ˜­šŸ˜­šŸ˜­šŸ˜­šŸ˜­šŸ˜­šŸ˜­šŸ˜­šŸ˜­šŸ˜­
I am so excited for whatever that beautiful mind of yours will bring next!!
Iā€™ve been busy with uni (when am I never busy with uni smh) and I finish this long ass term on the 28th of December ugh Iā€™m so excited to just be done with these 6 courses that I am taking.
As for the year-end survey Iā€™m going to answer the questions (even if theyā€™re a bit hardšŸ˜ )
what is your favorite/s from the drabbles i've put out this year (second in which collection)?
Iā€™ll give you my top 5 drabbles from this collection:
1. in which jungkook wants you all to himself (and bam) and you buy him flowers
This one never fails to make me smile
2. in which jungkook is giving up on you but you have so much love left to give
This one^ killed me but I love it
3. in which you make jungkookā€™s world spin and you tend toā€¦ make him a little too dizzy.
I read this like 1000 times I love it so much
4. in which jungkook canā€™t sleep, and he canā€™t stop kissing you either.
This one made me giggle and kick my feet
5. in which a shameless ex-lover makes your bad day worse and jungkook canā€™t help but to go wherever you are.
me šŸ¤ oc
themes, lines, paragraphs, or scenes that stood out to you?
art iā€™m not gonna lie to you these type of questions are the ones that I get on my exams šŸ˜­
For the themes ? Idk I just like soft fluffy things šŸ«¶ so soft it makes me wanna throw up
and I like angst (ONLY SOMETIMES PLEASE)
I think this line from in which a shameless ex-lover makes your bad day worse and jungkook canā€™t help but to go wherever you are. is cute
ā€œaigoo, why are you so messy?ā€œ
for scenes I think this one is funny
ā€œow- ouch- baby! what the hell? what was that for?ā€
with doe eyes struck by headlights, he gapes at you in surprise as he rubs his poor shoulder that was slapped without warning.
and if it is not too much to ask- who is your favorite character, oc or jungkook?
Not answering because I love them both DONT TRY MEšŸ˜ 
which year/s would you like to see more of from 2017 to 2023?
I really dont mind anything! But I feel like 2019 jungkook is just ā¤ļøā€šŸ”„ and 2022 too oof.
and which season (spring/summer/autumn/winter)?
Iā€™m a winter girlie so obvi winter
I think thatā€™s all of the questions! I had fun answering them haha (even though they reminded me of my literary criticism course šŸ„²) I am so excited for what the new year is going to bring!! I love you art I hope you have a wonderful Christmas and a happy new year!!!! I hope that 2024 will be an amazing year for you!
Love, šŸ„Ø
PRETZEL ANONIE MY BABY LOVE I MISSED UUUU SO MUCH šŸ„ŗšŸ„ŗšŸ„ŗ
iā€™ve been doing much better since my break from school started !!! i really needed this for the sake of my sanity. hehe this is why i love the holiday season :P
AND THE NEW DRABBLE YESYESYHDJSHDFJJD IHHH IM SO GLAD YOU LOVED IT šŸ¤­
as for the endingā€¦ no comment for now bcs itā€™s so fun seeing yā€™all freak out <3
goodluck with the rest of your term plssss donā€™t forget to take care and enjoy your well deserved break after šŸ„°
OOP YOU SAW THE SURVEY
your top 5 i loveeeee šŸ„¹ also youā€™re so real for the #5 i think this is the first answer it was mentioned. iā€™m blushing and giggling just thinking about it rn likejsjdhsjdf
i had to search for which drabble is the scene with the ouch and IM LAUGHINGDHDHFH I FORGOT ABT THE LIP PIERCING DRABBLE. ocā€™s humor >>>
Not answering because I love them both DONT TRY MEšŸ˜ 
iā€™m sorry for my fault šŸ˜ž i bow my head down again
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I had fun answering them haha (even though they reminded me of my literary criticism course šŸ„²)
this is so funny iā€™m sorrydhdhsjdhjshf šŸ˜­šŸ˜­šŸ˜­ iā€™m a literature girlie through and through i fear. but fr thank youuuu so much for answering i had fun reading your answers too :") hehe you made me smile a lot. i love you sm and i hope 2024 treats you well and brings you an abudance of everything nice in life šŸ©· happy holidays!!!! please eat lots of yummy food too hehe :")
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guessimate Ā· 2 years ago
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I hope you all had fantastic holidays, if you celebrate!
I just felt like trying out University in TS2 (again), with the awesome Semester Changes mod [but with CAS-created sims, so they had to go through 2 semesters during the 1st year, the rest of their education was faster].Ā 
I did not make them get skills they needed all the time, but I allowed them to get Logic Creativity and/or Body, when their fun was low... and someone needed to clean the dorm, because it was disgusting. My Fortune sims also wanted to earn some money, so they got some Cooking skill points while working in the cafeteria.Ā 
The only skills I didnā€™t make them get, unless they had the wants to get skill points or get on the Deanā€™s List were Charisma and Mechanical [as Charisma just needs to be learned in TS2, and no objects required repairing].
Unfortunately, no babies were made, and my Knowledge sim was not abducted, but perhaps I was just [un]lucky, but Iā€™m not sure if the maternity mod worked for me.Ā 
I got reminded of why I disliked the University pack. The dormiesā€™ behavior is just really weird. They will go to their rooms even in the middle of a date for no reason.
Autumn/Fall is by far the best season to study in, because sims will just randomly roll wants to gain skills during this season. It seems to me like sims donā€™t realize they need skill points to pass. Fortune sims will just keep rolling the useless ā€˜buy a xxxā€™ wants (even to the point of populating the whole 6 want slots with them [sic!]). Sims often roll wants to write term papers at the very beginning of the semester, but no skill wants.
I also realized that if you go to community lot, the time still passes, which is cool, but it unfortunately also means that everyone is out of sync and the sim that went to a community lot will take their exam at an earlier time.
Both of my Fortune sims declared Biology, the Popularity sim wanted to declare the Politics major, the Knowledge sim āˆ’ Maths, the Family āˆ’ Literature, and the Romance āˆ’ Art. I think they almost always roll these, or similar, and it depends solely on their aspiration.
~*~
My Knowledge sim ended up graduating with honors because thatā€™s just how Knowledge sims do at uni. It was a great time for some of my sims, even if they didnā€™t do that well at uni, but they still had the time to pursue their interests. Free Time complements University well. My Family sim got to max Logic skill from playing chess and my popularity sim maxed out Music&Dance. My romance sim who chose to study Art also maxed out Arts&Crafts enthusiasm.
My Knowledge sim, Henrietta Planta (Scorpio), should have ended up with ~6000$ i believe as I went through 5 semesters. her GPA was 4.0. She always passed with A+ and got onto the Deanā€™s List.
Christabelle Corbeau (one of the Fortune sims, a Libra) got ~5000$ and ended up with 3.3 GPA.
Joanne Fett (Family, Gemini) and Rosamond Rosenberg (the other Fortune sim, a Taurus) got 4.600$ each, with a GPA of 3.2.
Elaine Lay (Romance, Leo) got 3800$ and a GPA of 2.8.
Celia Grandison (Popularity, Cancer) got 3700$ for her 2.7 GPA.
I kind of want to start a small ā€˜hood with these, possibly living in apartments, but Iā€™d have to make some apartment with garden plots etc. I thought about assigning them to specific social classes, based on the grades they got, but it doesnā€™t really make sense. They all passed and most of them got at least a little close romantically to some dormies, so Iā€™ll probably add them to the story. I also never really played with the uni careers before, so I think Iā€™ll give these to them and change their LTW-s accordingly.
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aztrareia Ā· 2 years ago
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[hiatus]
I think itā€™s the lactose intolerance talking, but Iā€™d be lying if I said I didnā€™t need this art break.
So, hear me out, or donā€™t, the announcement is already up there in concisely one word.
[optional read below]
I started this school break with my [Wounded] series. And this was a whole mini series that Iā€™ve taken from real-life ā€œwoundsā€
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Semi-permanent was taken from the times that I fell sick during school days. Iā€™ve been very busy trying to keep up with studying, paired with the fact that I didnā€™t really know when or how to moderate myself in such a way that I was still able to balance rest and work. And it turns out, I couldnā€™t do thatā€”and so for multiple times the past semester I fell very ill on the weeks before exams. Which sucked, but I guess, it was my body finally taking that break for me. Worst timing, btw. But it happened. I survived just fine, thankfully. Part of semi-permanentā€™s idea fuel was th fact I was still on that transition stage with trying to adjust to new environmentsā€”new place, new people, new ways of trying to get along with strangers in my general vicinityā€”moving homes twiceā€”getting into a knee-injury accident thing while going down the stairs. This art piece had the premise that maybe some wounds are just thatā€”ā€œsemi-permanent.ā€
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Medic is an artpiece where I sort of emotionally face this thing called a ā€œheartache.ā€ Iā€™ve forgotten over what heartache it is, but it held the idea that stuff like thatā€”healing broken heartsā€”is a thing you have to do by yourself. Itā€™s something that I feel is unfair to pass on to others, tasking them to helping you heal something that is exclusively yours. I donā€™t want to elaborate on the specific type of heartacheā€”just know that it is yours to fill by yourself. That is what I believe in, and you are definitely free to refute that.
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Mihael a (Iā€™m not looking up the stylized fonts have mercy) is a play on my actual irl name. And yes, you are correct if you are thinking of a certain figure thatā€™s very well known in religious literature. Simply explained, itā€™s an artpiece with the premise of facing those ā€œdemonsā€ that live in our thoughtsā€”the digital sword is a funny part of the piece I added at the last minute, but it fits well with the reference, no?
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I wonā€™t add too much of the photos since they are already here and posted, and this thing has been quite long already. But I am proud that in this past weeks alone, I was able to create I think, 10 works, 2 of them are wips, 1 of them might not see the day because I couldnā€™t for the life of me, feel confident with the art style I currently had, to justify, or at least be on par with other worksā€”donā€™t do this btw. Itā€™s just a personal thing for me that I wasnā€™t able to gather up that confidence to pick it up again and actually work on it. The photo above is that one art I made for 11.11. She was fun to work on. Thatā€™s all I will say about it.
This post is already long and winded and Iā€™m surprised if you read this through (and thank you, if you did!). But as the title said, Iā€™d like to take this time, coming up to the holiday season, to rest. I feel as though Iā€™ve placed immense pressure on my skills (and thatā€™s on me!) without really looking at what I was actually able to accomplish thus far. I hope to spend the remaining time until second semester begins next year, on things that donā€™t demand too much of my emotional and mental batteries. Doing something fun and specifically for myself that I donā€™t feel the need to documentā€”and really just hoping for the times I get to touch grass so I can explore more of the new environment Iā€™m living in. For the first time after a long time, I get to experience a Christmas holiday that is not just me and my single parental figure, and I look forward to that as well.
Be good to yourselves, Iā€™ll be back with more long winded texts because I am still a talkative little shit with a keyboard Iā€™m having fun using.
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bujowsofie Ā· 6 years ago
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Bullet Journaling: A Guide
Iā€™ve decided to make a little guide for anyone who might be thinking about starting a bujo but doesnā€™t know where to begin.Ā 
What is a bullet journal and why should you have one?
It can work as a mix of a to-do-list, planner, diary, art journal, notebook, tracker etc.
you can use it as a planner for your work/school life, personal life or a mix of both
Tbh it can be anything you want, thatā€™s what so nice about a bujo, some things may work for you and some things might not!
Use it to have some quality timeĀ with yourself, relaxing, being creative, getting your shit together. I think everyone has different reasons for having one. I do it because it helps me relax, makes me remember all I have to do and then itā€™s also a way for me to stay a little creative when I donā€™t normally have time to paint and draw so much.
Ā Ā What do you need to start a bullet journal?
You might have seen a lot of extremely beautiful pictures floating around the internet with expensive notebooks and fancy pens, but you donā€™t need anything like that at all. This is what I think you need:
Some kind of notebook. It doesnā€™t really matter which one, some people like LechtturmĀ or Moleskine, but any notebook you have lying around will work just fine. (Maybe just donā€™t get one with 300 pages as it will seem overwhelming to have to finish it)
Pay attention to if it has blank, lined, gritted or dotted pages tho! For a journal focusing mostly on art, I would recommend blank pages, and for writing a lined. If you want your journal to have perfectly straight lines, a gritted journal will probably work the best. If you want something in between or donā€™t really know exactly what you want, I think you should choose the dotted one (thatā€™s also what I use).
Some kind of pens and pencils. Just pay attention to if they will bleed through your pages!
Optional: Scraps of paper, colored tape (washi tape), (polaroid) pictures, old tickets, stickers, watercolors, pressed flowers, cute wrapping paper or literally anything you have lying around or anything you think look cute!Ā 
Practical things like glue, a ruler, a scissor
What should/could you put in your bullet journal?
I will give you a lot of ideas to spreads etc but donā€™t make them just because. Some things will work for you and a lot of things probably wonā€™t. It can be tiring to make a lot of pages with things that donā€™t help you at all. Your bujo shouldnā€™t feel like a burden, so if you find a spread not working for you, then simply drop it :)Ā 
*Start off with an intro page, maybe write your name, phone number and email in case it gets lost. Your bujo can quickly become one of your most beloved things so be careful!
*Make a key page with what symbols will you be using for tasks, completed tasks, events, birthdays, appointments etc.
*Maybe make an index. Some people like using it, but I abandoned mine pretty quickly, so again, thatā€™s up to you.
*Yearly overview
*Monthly overview
*Weekly spreads. Most people include these pages and they might be the ones you will use the most with daily to-do-lists and the like.
*You can let your spreads be inspired by lots of different things as colors, seasons, holidays, the movie you just watched, an album, a place, a smell, a feeling, outer space, a person etc. Also donā€™t be afraid to play with different shapes and textures.
Page over your contacts, and important birthdays
*Habit trackerĀ page (you can track sleep, water, exercise, spendings, medication, yoga etc) This can also easily be incorporated in your weekly spreads.
*Since we are close to the new year, you can do resolutions for the year.
Monthly/weekly/daily goals
*Memory pages. These could include a spread from new years, ChristmasĀ or a cafĆ© trip with a good friend.
*Travel logs. You can write it like a diary or just glue in tickets and draw something.
*Gratitude log. Write 1-3 things every day that you are grateful for.
*Movies/series to watch
Books to read
*Book reviews
Music to listen to
*Favourite songs
Bucket list
*Paint test pages
*Brain dump pages
School assignments overview
*Grade tracker
*Exam planner
Class schedule
Favourite lyrics
*Favourite quotes
Gift ideas
*Christmas gifts planner
Wishlist. Update it whenever something pops into your mind so you will have some wishes when people ask you.
Dream log
Passwords for different websites
Countdown page
*Mood tracker
*Random doodle page
Highlights of 2018
Un-do list (bad habits)
Handwriting practice
*Different writing challenges like 6-word stories or a sentence a day.
Playlists for different moods
List of your favourite things
Savings tracker
Your budget
+ literally a thousand more!
*The ones Iā€™ve tried
General tips
When you start your journal it can be very hard to be satisfied with it right away and you might be tempted to rip out pages. If you think this will happen, I suggest numbering your pages from the start. I would recommend not ripping anything out anyway because when youā€™re 50 pages in, itā€™s fun to see how much it has changed over time.
if you want your bujo to be a little artsy, I would recommend always outlining with a pencil before you start using your pens.
If you donā€™t feel like an index will work but you still want it to be organized, you can color code it with tape on the side of the paper. Ex. you can use your red flower tape every time you start a new month.
Check tags like #bujo #bulletjournal #weeklyspread and #journal on social media to get tons of inspiration.Ā 
Check some of my favourite bujoblrs out like: @bujo-rd @bujo-ie @howlsmovingdeskĀ @peachdanik-journalĀ @studylustre @studygramjess @studyblr @problematicprocrastinator @kaylareads @heyrosiebee @academi @ohghibliesĀ @hannybstudies @therobotstudies @studyquill @vanillastudies Ā @stillstudies + many many more. You can also check out my blog for inspiration.
I think thatā€™s about it, I hope I covered it okay. Happy bullet journaling!
- Bujowsofie
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courtingstars Ā· 5 years ago
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Notes for The Road Before Us (MidoTaka)
Soā€¦ Wow. I kind of canā€™t believe this is the last chapter. And I have to say, this one was a rideā€”or at least it was for me to write, anyway. //laughs Which seems appropriate, given the overall themes. And it also feels appropriate to be posting it on New Yearā€™s Eve, given what the story ended up being about.
I knew this chapter would be the longest, once I realized some of the things I wanted to include in it. And that hopefully it would include pretty much everything I love the most about MidoTaka, and also about KnB in general. I donā€™t know how well I pulled that off, but I definitely got emotional writing it. <3
As a matter of fact, the first fic I ever wrote for KnB was a MidoTaka fic! (Itā€™s here on my Tumblr, but I never even posted it to Ao3.) I havenā€™t written nearly as much about them as I have for some other pairings. Still, I kind of feel like I got my start in the fandom with MidoTaka, and I have a LOT of feelings about them, for all kinds of reasons. So I really, really loved getting to write a chapter about these two, being super amazing partners and also really super in love, and hopefully it shows. <3
I do have some of my usual notes this time around, mostly a few cultural things. (And also some random flailing, about FINALLY getting to write about certain things Iā€™ve had swirling around in my head for a long time. XD) I might write a different post later about this fic overall, and how it turned into something I honestly wasnā€™t expectingā€¦ But for now, letā€™s get on with the MidoTaka goodness!
(Cut for rambling about things like family headcanons, a few Japanese winter foods, lucky pencils, Takaoā€™s nerdy card hobby, and the symbolism of five yen coinsā€¦)
Family Headcanons
This isnā€™t really a proper note, just some goofy flailing because I FINALLY GOT TO WRITE ABOUT MIDORIMA AND TAKAOā€™S FAMILIES, HURRAY. Iā€™m also so unbelievably happy that there was a cameo with Midorimaā€™s little sister! I love her so much, especially that she likes nail art. (I have a pointless headcanon that Midorima borrows nail files from her. xD) Iā€™m also overjoyed that I FINALLY got to mention that I headcanon Midorimaā€™s mother as being a surgeon, and his father as a scientist. Because super-successful overachieving green family, thatā€™s why? //laughs
(In case it wasnā€™t obvious already, I am way, WAY too into family headcanonsā€¦ Thereā€™s probably nothing I love more than coming up with what a characterā€™s family might be like, and how they fit into their family dynamic. To the point that I have a TON of ideas about all of the GoMā€™s families, some of which I hinted at throughout this storyā€¦ Because apparently I canā€™t help myself anymore. XD)
The Rear Car
This is also not a proper note in any way, butā€¦ Iā€™m just so happy that the rear car is in this! XDD I hinted at a few personal headcanons about it in the chapter, including that they donā€™t use it regularly by their third year in high school. But it just seemed like it couldnā€™t be a MidoTaka fic without it, so Iā€™m overjoyed that I was able to come up with a way to work it into a holiday ficā€¦
ā€¦ And because Iā€™m a nerd, I love it even more because it just fits the ā€œSleigh Rideā€ theme SO PERFECTLY. XD Itā€™s been a while, but I think that was even how I decided on the carol for the fic in the first place? Like, ā€œOMG maybe Takao could decorate the rear car and they could ride around in it and it would be sort of like the song and that way the last chapter actually fits the most and ITā€™S PERFECT?!ā€ Ah, the things I get excited about as a nerdy writer. //laughs
Hot Water Bottle Covers
ā€¦ Iā€™m not really sure if I should even make this a note, honestly. XD But I happened to get the idea for the cutesy hot water bottle covers that look like animals while I was doing a search for the Japanese word for hot water bottle. Which is yutanpo (ć‚†ćŸć‚“ć½), if anyone was curious!
Oden and Oshiruko
And now about the mealā€¦ Oden is a type of stew that is super popular in Japan in the wintertime, so itā€™s one of the foods that tends to be culturally associated with the season. There are a lot of different ingredients that can be in it, some of which can beĀ pretty unfamiliar to people who arenā€™t from Japan. You can learn more about some of them in articles like this one. And yes, you can totally buy oden in a convenience store! (Which are everywhere in Japan and called ā€˜konbiniā€™ for short.)
As for shiruko (or more formally, oshiruko!), this is the Japanese version of red bean soup. Itā€™s prepared a few different ways, and the recipe varies by region. KnB fans will probably know it best as what Midorima is always drinking out of a can. XD So no surprise that it popped up in this chapter, really!
Yushima Tenmagu
This is just a quick mention about the lucky pencils Midorima gives Takaoā€¦ As Midorima said, these came from a shrine called Yushima Tenmagu, which is pretty famous as a place for Japanese students to buy good luck charms to pass their exams. (Also if I remember correctly, Midorima has this running gag throughout some of the series extras about trying to figure out how to get better scores on his exams, and even about a lucky pencil? So it just seemed to fit. //laughs)
Magic the Gathering, Apparently
ā€¦ Okay so first of all, I know literally nothing about Magic the Gathering. So if you happen to be an MtG fan and I screwed something up, Iā€™m very sorry. //laughs
In any case, itā€™s a longtime headcanon of mine that Takao plays MtG. Since of course itā€™s one of the most famous trading card games in the world, and itā€™s still popular in Japan and played in the gaming communities there. And as Takao fans out there will know, his canon hobby is collecting trading cards, which he specifically shops for at a pretty famous Tokyo shopping center called Nakano Broadway. (All of which got a mention in this chapter!)
Also, if youā€™re wondering how long Iā€™ve had the MtG headcanon specificallyā€¦ Well, hereā€™s a quote from my fic The Fast Train to Kyoto, where Akashi and Furihata run into Takao while shopping at Nakano Broadway:
ā€œWhy do you like to come here, if I may ask?ā€ Akashi said.
ā€œOh, right. You guys gotta see this.ā€ Takao started to rummage through one of his shopping bags. ā€œIā€™m a loser for trading cards. Magic, mostlyā€”play a lot of Magic.ā€
ā€¦ Because the point guards in KnB are all huge nerds in my mind, and I WILL STAND BY THAT THEORY FOREVER. XD
(And no, I honestly had no idea that I would ever reuse that particular headcanon, especially in a holiday story? But itā€™s me, and I canā€™t seem to stop connecting all these totally unnecessary details, even in my fluff fanfics, soā€¦ I guess I shouldnā€™t be surprised. //laughs)
The Symbolism of Five Yen Coins
Okay, I have to admit really love this one, because of course I just sort of stumbled onto the idea by ā€œaccident.ā€ //laughs So a few weeks back, I was trying to figure out what lucky item would work for Takaoā€™s gift in the story. The real-life Oha-Asa has listed coins as a lucky item for multiple astrological signs over the years, so I was playing around with that ideaā€¦ And that was when I learned about the symbolism of the five yen piece in Japanese currency. At which point I completely geeked out, and decided on the spot that I just HAD to use it.
So a five yen coin is pronounced ā€œgo-enā€ in Japanese. Which also sounds like another word that basically means a bond or connection, and has connotations of fate as well. For this reason, there are a lot of superstitions around five yen coinsā€”itā€™s often used at shrines to pray, for exampleā€”and itā€™s basically connected to the idea of meeting people and making connections in a fortunate or ā€œdestinedā€ way. Which just seems so fitting for Midorima and Takao, and how they met and later became partners! And also how I see all the relationships in KnB in general. <3
For an explanation from a Japanese person about some of the symbolism behind the five yen piece, I really recommend this article here! And Wikipedia also mentions some ways that the five yen piece is used culturally.
Well, thatā€™s it for now! I might end up editing this a bit at some point, since Iā€™m writing it in a hurry to post it on New Yearā€™s. But I really wanted to get the final chapter up as soon as I could, so people could read the completed fic if they wanted.
Well, thank you all so much for indulging me in my holiday fic mood this year! Happy New Year, and I hope you all have an amazing 2020 ahead. I know I definitely have a lot of goals and things Iā€™m thinking about and hoping for, and I might talk more about that soon. (As well as try to catch up on some messages and other to-doā€™s Iā€™ve been horribly neglecting.) But for now, it just feels right to finally be able to complete this story, which ended up meaning way, way more to me than I ever expected it to. (Like KnB and these precious rainbow basketball kids in general, really. <3)
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neighbours-kid Ā· 6 years ago
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Twelve's March
March wasā€¦.a chaotic cluster-fuck of something that felt like two weeks tops. March went by fast. And alsoā€”wasnā€™t it just the beginning of the year? Wasnā€™t it just Christmas? Whereā€™s all this time going?
Anyway, March was really weird. Full month of university, relatively full weekends I think, it just all felt weird and fast and I donā€™t even know what exactly I did all month. Well, except watch TV shows. Well, I say TV showsā€¦I mean Doctor Who. And with that, I mean Mattā€™s arc with Clara, and all of Peterā€™s arc. Which you already know because I wrote a massive blog post about it, yelling incoherently about all sorts of things and not remotely making sense, I feel.
March was definitely a month defined by Doctor Who and specifically Peter Capaldiā€™s Twelfth Doctor, who I have come to love so much, I still donā€™t know how to wrap my head around it. I think Iā€™m just gonna have to buy all the DVDs finally and justā€”watch it again. Because I have emotions and thoughts and ideas and these little bits of je ne sais quoi about so many things in relation to Peterā€™s wonderful wonderful performance. But I donā€™t want to spend too much time rambling on about him (again) and waste your time with that.
As I said, March was a full month of university. And honestly, it has sort of started to overwhelm me right now. With me being me and having extended one paper deadline to the end of February, and also fucking up one exam of the last term and having to retake that, I completely fell behind on all my actual work that I had to do for this term. Thereā€™s one class that I canā€™t attend but have to take, so Iā€™m working through a book by myself, thereā€™s another book for another course that I ordered way too late, and thereā€™s so much reading that I should be doing and am not actually doing. So Iā€™m totally behind on all things and I often find myself with books open and texts on my kitchen table, throwing highlighters around and post-itā€™s, trying to get it together, and just ultimately making more of a mess.
I am very glad Easter holidays are coming up soon so I have time to catch up with that (of course only if I donā€™t have to work during that week, which somehow might actually happen).
I also started a new minor this termā€”theologyā€”(and finally finished art historyā€”never have to do art history ever again!!!!), so that is also a bit of a challenge, though I do feel a lot better about it than I did about art history. Itā€™s really interesting and Iā€™m learning a lot of cool stuff, and Iā€™m actually pretty good at being present in class and taking notes, so at least thereā€™s that. Funny thing is: my theology courses are incredibly affirming of my gender identity and my plans for the future, and a lot of the things I learn support my own views, which is really great.
Another thing thatā€™s really cool this term, is that Iā€™m trying to hang out in our English departmentā€™s tea corner more often, eating lunch there (now that I actually have time to eat lunch on some days), and just trying to socialise more with people. And itā€™s great! Iā€™m having a lot of lovely conversations with a lot of lovely people, and I think itā€™s really good for me to do that and just to try and be more open.
And honestly, I really like being at university currently? I have a cool group of friends, Iā€™m having a really great time and learning a lot of cool and interesting things (mostly. Thereā€™s some rubbish introduction courses that I have to take now). But my problem is, that as soon as I sit in my tram home, as soon as I enter my apartment, I am just flat out exhausted. I am so done. Which is also why I rarely actually get any work done at home currently, because all I really do is maybe eat something small and then fall into bed to maybe watch an episode or two of something and then go to sleep.
On that note: Daylight savings time was just last weekend here, and it completely fucked over my internal clock. Like, the day before that, I went to bed at like 1.30AM because I was reading fanfiction (later more on that), and got up very easily the next day even before 10AM. Daylight savings? I went to bed, I think, only a bit after 11PM and had to get up at 7.30AM, and I was absolutely knackered. I immediately dozed off again as soon as I turned off the alarm and it nearly cost me my entire day because I had to catch a train. And itā€™s still not back to normal, I still have issues every morning getting up. I hope it gets better soon, once I have a day to just sleep in without an alarm and get up whenever I actually wake up. I have hope that this is gonna work.
But now: fanfiction! Iā€™m not sure if Iā€™ve talked about this on here before, but I was big on fanfiction a few years back, mostly in my BBC Sherlock time. And before that too, I think, way back when I first started really getting into Naruto in a more intellectual way than just watching it on TV. But that was when I was likeā€¦.in sixth grade, or something like that. But I was huge on fanfiction for a long time, and I think together with falling off of the Sherlock train after that last season, I also stopped really engaging with that part of fandom. But now, thanks to my binging of Doctor Who I have absolutely fallen down that rabbit hole again. Itā€™s just such a great thing, isnā€™t it? People creating massive, massive amounts of, essentially free work. Just to express this joy and this love for a thing and to share it with others. Itā€™s amazing.
(Short side-note here: Did you know, Archive of Our Own, one of the biggest fanfiction sites, was nominated for a fucking Hugo Award? In its entirety? Making, effectively, over 4.5 MILLION pieces of fanfiction Hugo Award-nominated literature, and, with over 1.8 MILLION users, making many of those Hugo Award-nominated authors? Itā€™s fucking brilliant. What a time to be alive!)
What else did I do in March? Iā€™m sort of blanking, because this month went by so fast. Lemme thinkā€¦.
I went to see Captain Marvel opening night (which was, officially, Menā€™s Night, which we crashed, because we wouldnā€™t usually support such sexist events, but it was Captain Marvel), and then again a bit later one more time, and it was great, just really fantastic. Carol is right up there as one of faves now. Also, Jude Law was hot.
On that film note, I obviously watched some stuff this month again and tried to make notes of it. Six movies (well five, but one twice), 64 episodes of TV (50 of which being Doctor Who), and a bunch of shorts starring David Tennant. Aside from Captain Marvel I think the movies I liked best this month were Bad Samaritan (2018) and Fright Night (2011), both also starring David Tennant, which is why I watched them. Fright Night was great fun, Colin Farrell was a fantastic, sexy vampire, and Davidā€™s vampire hunter/Las Vegas magician act was just hilarious. I love how much of a coward he was, ultimately. What a fantastic vampire movie, really funny. Also, Anton Yelchin was in it, and I just realised how much I miss him and what a shame it is that he died so young. He was a great kid and a fantastic actor.
Bad Samaritan was also really cool. I had wanted to watch it for a while, since it came out actually, because David was in it, and because Dean Devlin directed and produced it, and I really adore his work (Leverage and The Librarians, anyone?) I was always a bit hesitant though, because Iā€™m not very big on films that are too horror-y and gory, so I always pushed it off. But Iā€™m very glad I finally saw it, because it was truly more of a thriller and not a horror movie. Fantastic story, the acting was brilliant (DT as a villain? Come on! So good.), the tension and suspense was absolutely incredible. Really a great movie, you should all watch it.
Iā€™m sure thereā€™s other things that I did in March that would be worthwhile to mention (was at my dadā€™s, visited my mom, went shopping with a friend), but Iā€™m really sort of hazy about all the details and I honestly canā€™t be bothered to write more right now.
Anyway, Iā€™m having a bit of a break soonā€”going to Lugano for four days with a friendā€”so I can hopefully relax a little and recharge my batteries for April.
Talk to you guys soon! Bye.
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bellesdiaries Ā· 7 years ago
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Of Books and Blue Bloods: A Modern BATB Tale
Merry Christmas and Happy New Year, Hannah (@funnygirltthatbelle)! I hope that this season has been a lovely time for you. I know how much you enjoy modern BATB AUs, and so Iā€™ve crafted a short modern story for your holiday gift. I hope you like it! [Somehow this turned kinda angsty at the end??] xo - Shelley (@bellesdiaries)
***
PRINCE PUMMELS POLICEMAN
During yesterdayā€™s press meeting, Chief Palace Correspondent Monsieur Cogsworth revealed that Prince Adam, Duke of Villeneuve, will be serving community service during the holidays, in response to his brazen behavior towards a local Paris police officer earlier this week.Ā 
This incident marks the fourth time the prince has acted in public in an ā€œunseemly manner,ā€ according to Cogsworth.
The Tribune has confirmed that the princeā€™s sanctionĀ has been issued for a one-month duration. The nature of the community service, however, remains a mystery.
When asked whether this newest attempt to tame the wild prince was thanks to a judiciary bribery, Cogsworth was unable to comment.Ā 
***
The clipped sound of heels against old wood floors jolts him from his stupor; the incessant pounding aggravates the dullĀ throbbing behind his eyes, thanks to his lingering hangover. He lets out a low growl.
The heels come to a halt behind him, briefly scuffing against the newly polished floor. His lips twitch. Mrs. Potts is going to have a field day about that.Ā 
A throat clears.Ā 
He turns away from his desk slowly, taking his time to study her, from that pair of small, black, closed-toed scuffing culprits that once upon a time might have been fashionable, up to the second-hand blazer that hugs her thin waist unpretentiously. He ends his steady perusal at her pretty face, a face that appears warm and inviting, withĀ deep, brown eyes that seem to draw him in, even as they dispel anger from across the room.Ā 
He sees the fire behind her eyes. He recognizes that inner turmoil at once. No oneā€™s ever looked at him so openly before. It both terrifies and intrigues him.Ā 
He feels himself sobering as he drinks her in.Ā 
ā€œYouā€™re not my new bodyguard, are you?ā€ he asks with a tease in his voice.
She frowns, tipping her head a little, as though heā€™s just presented her a mathematical quandary. He likes the delicate way her eyebrows pull together.Ā 
A throat clears again, and for the first time Adam notices Lumiere standing beside her, having escorted her into the room.Ā To be honest, he hadnā€™t even realized his butler/friend/mentor was there until now. She commands all his attention so effortlessly. Even in the silence, she exudes confidence and seems to fill the space. Her presence is both threatening and intoxicating.Ā 
He canā€™t help the treacherous way he lingers on that little pinched valley that remains between her eyes, wanting to know how it got there, wanting to find a way to unravel her.Ā 
ā€œMay I present his royal highness, Prince Adam,ā€ Lumiere supplies.
She doesnā€™t courtesy.
She doesnā€™t waver.
His lips twitch at her boldness, as he spots the judgement in her eyes. Sheā€™s already made up her mind about him, and at least preemptive disappointment is something heā€™s familiar with.Ā 
ā€œYou must be my fatherā€™s newest project for me.ā€ He raises an eyebrow, challenging her to deny it.
That seems to agitate her a little.Ā Finally, she says,Ā ā€œYour highness, I am here becauseĀ my students and I had theĀ privilege of being selected for your little...community service venture.ā€
Something about her need to defend herself amuses him.Ā 
ā€œAnd just what will this ventureĀ include?ā€ he asks, knowing the answer from his early briefing with Cogsworth but wanting to hear it from her anyway.
Lumiere is about to jump in to her rescue, but she lifts her chin and proudly continues,Ā ā€œTutoring. Classic Literature.ā€Ā 
He rolls his eyes. Of course.
ā€œAnd who are you exactly?ā€ he asks, sauntering just a little closer, invading her personal space the way sheā€™s invading his lifestyle. He knows the answer to this, too, but he likes making he squirm.
She swallows but doesnā€™t retreat. Heā€™s beginning to like her more and more by the moment. ā€œMy name isĀ Belle Dupont.ā€
Cogsworthā€™s words echo in his mind.
She was ranked highest in her class at university and has a second degree in mechanical engineering. She could be tutoring you, sire.Ā 
Interesting that she doesnā€™t feel the need to list her qualifications. Yet she holds herself in high enough caliber not to quiver in front of royalty.Ā 
ā€œIs it short for something?ā€ he demands.
ā€œNo.ā€Ā 
ā€œPity. Belle is soā€¦plain,ā€ he lies smoothly, enjoying the taste of her name on his lips more than he would ever care to admit. Under normal circumstances, the name is plain. But for her...the name holds an uncanny sort of power.Ā 
Her eyes flare for just a second, before she reigns in her reaction. He appreciates that heā€™s already irritating to her. Her reaction to him is predictable and entertaining and safe.Ā The sooner he scares her off, the sooner this miserable endeavor will end for both of them.
***
During the first week Belle spends at the palace going over lesson plans and introducing him to a few of her students, Adam does everything he can to sabotage her efforts.Ā 
Yet the more time he spends in her fierce yet somehow refreshing company--in watching how she patiently instructs both the meekest and loudest of teenagers, inĀ half-heartedly trying to follow her example--Adam starts to feel a change inside him.Ā 
He doesnā€™t know when it happens exactly. Somewhere between throwing out innuendos that make her blush and the first time he unintentionally, genuinely makes her laugh. Somewhere between dreading grading assignments over afternoon tea and looking forward to political debates overĀ late-night glasses of wine.
Turns out, Belle is even smarter than her resume boasts.Ā 
She knows three languages and is well-versed in music and art and history and political science. In some ways, sheā€™s more equipped for royal life than he is. Heā€™s never met someone so much his equal...and yet so incredibly notĀ his equal. Sheā€™s definitely of a higher caliber, not him.
So what is a sweet girl from a small-town French village, who rose to success only through hardwork and merciful scholarships--something his privilege will never understand--doing wasting her talents as a secondary educator? What is she doing wasting her time with him? he wonders. She got a degree in mechanical engineering, and yet here she is teaching Shakespeare? It doesnā€™t make any sense. Nothing about her makes sense.Ā 
His answer comes the day he finds her sobbing in the atrium.Ā 
At first, she tries to run away from him, to bury her tears, to pretend to be stronger than she feels. And he knows exactly what thatā€™s like.Ā 
He doesnā€™t let her run, though, pulling her into the safety of his arms from behind; and finally, after an eternity, she spins and lets herself sink into his embrace. He holds her for a long time as she unleashes all her pent up sorrow onto his chest.Ā His heart breaks a little with hers that day, in the best way. The fact that she finally, tentatively, almostĀ trusts him enough to be vulnerable like this fills him with a strange, wonderful warmth. Like maybe there is hope for him after all. Like maybe there is hope for them.
When she finally manages to calm herself down,Ā she mumbles through a croaked voice against his soaked sweater,Ā ā€œMy father...h-he has dementia. He doesnā€™t always remember me. Today was...ā€ She sniffles.Ā ā€œToday was one of those days.ā€
So thatā€™s it. She is here under duress, only itā€™s not for the blackmail or extortion reasons he suspected. Sheā€™s really here to help her father. Medicine couldnā€™t save his mother, but it can save her father. Or at least, give him small comforts during his final days.Ā 
She must miss him terribly. How much is she sacrificing just to make his penance a little bit easier?Ā 
Selfishly, he swallows down the lump of guilt in his throat. He likes having her here too much to let her go so soon.Ā Ā 
***
By week two, Adam and Belle have fallen into such an easy routine, itā€™s almost hard to believe there was a ever a time she wasnā€™t here at the palace, with him. Heā€™s helped her prepare her students for winter exams, and sheā€™s given him something positive to focus on, something constructive.Ā 
Although, if she knew the full extent of his thoughts regarding her, she might not consider their time together so constructive.Ā 
He canā€™t help the way he gets distracted by that sweet, memorizing valley between in her eyebrows, by the way she nibbles at her bottom lip, by the bangs sheā€™s trying to grow out that keep falling into her eyes.Ā 
ā€œWhich author do you want to start with for the seniorā€™s exam?ā€ he asks, glancing up from his stack of papers.
ā€œIs it too predictable if I say Shakespeare?ā€
ā€œThat is too predictable. But it also shows taste. So do you have a favorite? And don't say--ā€
ā€œRomeo and Juliet,ā€ she answers brightly.
He groans.Ā ā€œThat is very predictable. And one I think we must remedy.ā€
She tilts her head at him, playfully this time, her high ponytail bouncing behind her shoulders. Sheā€™s already so much more carefree with him that she was during their first encounter. So much has changed between them in such a short time.Ā ā€œWhat would you suggest, your highness?ā€
Oh, now he knows sheā€™s teasing him. She never addresses him by his official title unless sheā€™s trying to goad something out of him.Ā ā€œMmmm.ā€ He leans back in his chair, pretending to give it serious consideration. ā€œMacbeth.ā€
She makes a face, disgusted. ā€œDidn't care for it.ā€
ā€œWhat about Hamlet?ā€
She rolls her eyes.Ā ā€œOf course, a prince enjoying another princeā€™s tale of woe is me. That's not predictable at all.ā€
ā€œTwelfth Night.ā€
That gives her pause.Ā ā€œI've actually never read that one.ā€
That surprises him. He springs out of his seat, slipping his hands into his pockets, and moves closer to her, softly, carefully, as though sheā€™s a doe he doesnā€™t want to frighten away. ā€œOh, I think you'll enjoy it,ā€ he says gently. ā€œIt's about a strong, independent woman who's not afraid to speak her mind and who wins the heart of a nobleman simply by spending time with him, even as she pretends to be someone else.ā€
Belle finally looks up at him, and he notices the way her eyes linger on his lips.Ā ā€œWhat are you saying?ā€ she whispers.Ā 
ā€œOh, I'm simply summarizing the play. What did you think I was referring to?ā€ he teases, earning a playful swat from her in return.Ā  He likes spending time with her. He likes how passionate she gets when she recounts a story. He likes making her coffee using hisĀ ā€œhipster vase,ā€ as she calls it,Ā and showing her his favorite spot in the whole palace, the small rose garden tucked away from public view, his own little sanctuary that he now shares with her.Ā 
They talk so much more than Shakespeare, conversations effortlessly bleeding into their hopes and dreams and fears and failures. He's never felt more exposed. He's never felt more free. By week three, sheā€™s not looking at him the way other people do, like they're expecting him to be more than he is. She treats him like a real person, and it's through their time together he slowly starts to realize exactly what kind of person he is at all. He's only himself when he's with her.
He learns that she wants to travel, and he delights in enlightening her about all the corners of the world he's been to, in seeing the world through her innocent eyes. He likes the way her eyes spark as she listens to him with rapt attention, kneeling in the grass, resting her chin against her open palm, uncaring about the state of her dress or grass stains or anything superficial.Ā He likes being the one to fuel the fire of her spirit.Ā 
***
The prince isĀ nothing like the media makes him out to be. Heā€™s gentle and kind and...so much more sensitive than anyone sheā€™s ever met. Sheā€™s seen him, the real him, the man he keeps locked away from prying paparazzi eyes, the man even his father doesnā€™t know exists. But she knows. Sheā€™s watched the way he interacts with her shy teenage students and pulls smiles out of solemn faces, the same way heĀ pulls smiles out of members of his staff. The same way heā€™s pulled her out of her own insecurities. When had she let that happen? When did she let her guard down long enough to let his goodness scale the walls of her heart and take her by surprise?Ā 
On her second-to-last night at the palace, they take a trip to the top terrace. And for the first time, Belle can understand why being a royal may not be so bad after all, not when you get to go to sleep to a view like this, soaking in a sea of city lights.
Belle swallows as she studies his profile, memorizing the shape of his rugged jaw, watching as those perfectly blue eyes flicker against the few stars they can see.Ā 
And when he takes her by the hand, she doesnā€™t try to stop him, doesnā€™t pull away, even though she knows she should. It would be better for both of them if she just left now. But she doesnā€™t want to leave him yet. Leaving him tomorrow is going to hurt too much as it is.
ā€œI wish I didnā€™t have to be a prince,ā€ he breathes, voicing her own trembling thoughts. His voice sounds rough, deeper than usual. Is he dreading saying goodbye too, or is it merely the cold weather? Or has she only been imaging their growing feelings for one another this whole time?Ā 
ā€œI wish I could be just...me.ā€Ā 
She squeezes his hand. ā€œYou are you. You are you to me.ā€
He huffs. ā€œThatā€™s true. I donā€™t know how to be me without you.ā€
When he looks at her again, her heart freezes. For the first time, he truly lets her see...everything, all of his worries, all of his uncertainty about the future. Like a whirlpool, those eyes suck her in and send her spinning.Ā 
At the last second, a twinge of self-doubt sneaks back through the cracks of her heart.Ā He probably looks at all the girls that way.Ā 
But then heā€™s leaning his head down towards her, so slowly, at first she doesnā€™t even notice. He stops just a breath away from her lips, letting the final step be her choice, letting her take the plunge if she so dares. And for better or worse, she does.
He kisses her gently at first, but soon their lips grow desperate, and she digs her fingers into his jacket, pulling him close. His lips are full and soft, while his beard roughly scraps against her skin, jarring her, startling her like electricity. She likes the feel of him, all of him.
When they finally break apart for air, he rests his forehead against hers, his rough breath hitting her in the face.
ā€œIs it wrong that Iā€™m tempted to throw another punch at a police officer, just to get you to stay?ā€
She laughs once, but it fades quickly.Ā 
ā€œI donā€™t want to let you go.ā€
She shuts her eyes, willing the tears back. ā€œEven though Iā€™m technicallyĀ a commoner?ā€Ā 
He runs his thumb in slow strokes over her cheek, then down her arm and over the back of her hand.Ā ā€œYouā€™re anything but common to me. The palace staff loves you. I love you. France will love you, too. This isnā€™t the 18th century, Belle.ā€
She shakes her head. Everything heā€™s saying...itā€™s wonderful. But itā€™s not enough.Ā ā€œAdam, I...I canā€™t give up being a teacher just to be your girlfriend. I have a life. I have plans and dreams and...ā€
ā€œWell, itā€™s not like Iā€™m in line to a throne or something. Maybe I could...step down for a while. Be yourĀ boyfriend. Besides, the world is changing. My father, my family...we must change with it.ā€
She starts.Ā ā€œI canā€™t ask you to give up everything just to be with me.ā€ Itā€™s too much. Itā€™s far too much.Ā 
ā€œYouā€™re not asking. Iā€™m offering,ā€ he answers, like itā€™s as simple as that.
ā€œWould you even survive without a hundred people at your beck and call?ā€
His eyes narrow a bit, reading her question for what it really is. An easy cop out. A way for him to break her heart without breaking her in the process.Ā He reads her so well. He smiles, undeterred and tender. ā€œTry me.ā€ He tucks her into his side, and she goes willingly, clinging to his warmth.Ā ā€œWhat do you say we run away?ā€ he breathes against her hair.Ā 
His words are somber, and they strike her straight in the heart.
Right now itā€™s impossible, of course. But itā€™s nice to pretend, just for one night. Maybe one day, things could be different. Maybe when her father doesnā€™t need her. Maybe when she pays off all her student loans. Maybe when heā€™s not constantly in the public eye.
ā€œMaybe,ā€ is all she can say in reply; itā€™s all they can promise one another.Ā 
He sighs, and she can feel the weight of his disappointment.Ā Still, he presses on, her brave prince. ā€œHappy New Year, Belle.ā€
He kisses her again just as the fireworks begin, though the colors in the sky are nothing compared to the fire he stirs inside her.Ā He kisses her through her tears. She doesnā€™t hide her tears from him anymore.Ā 
Thankfully, itā€™s not goodbye. Itā€™s a beginning.Ā 
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a-cai-jpg Ā· 4 years ago
Text
thanksgiving.
Dear ,
I havenā€™t spoken to you in a very long time. Iā€™m sorry the last time we spoke, my mind wandered, and I kept staring at the trees behind you. It was a very warm day. The seasons have changed, not that youā€™d noticed, being in California and all. The sun comes out rarely now, maybe for fifteen minutes, if even that. The skyā€™s dreary, and I comment on it a few times too many a day.
It was Thanksgiving yesterday. My friends and I celebrated a Friendsgiving the day before, and my roommate suggested we share things we were grateful for. As we were listing them out, we realized the sheer number of things we are lucky to appreciateā€”the privilege we held to be here, present, and safe. I, in the past week, have been reeling from the realization that the people around me are amazing people, and they care. I only wish I can offer them a fraction of the comfort they bring me.
Itā€™s cheesy, Ā but Iā€™m so incredibly thankful for all the decisions Iā€™ve made that have brought me here. There are just some really good people in the world, you know, and I feel like I donā€™t recognize that enough.
See, I have a roommate who wakes up early in the morning to make me porridge after I vomit my guts out the night before. She stuck a towel in the freezer just in case my eyes would be puffy the next day. When I pulled it out two days later, because she forgot about it, I felt a rush of gratitude and puzzlement. A few weeks ago, I felt really unwell during our morning lectures and ended up lying on the bathroom floor for half an hour. I came out to her making soup for me. I didnā€™t know how to respond except for thank you, you donā€™t have to, but Iā€™m glad you did.Ā 
I have friends who let me sit in their apartment, in silence, as I scroll through Instagram, just because I needed another personā€™s presence. They let me hover behind them as they make lunch and offer me food and tea. They cook me meals and deliver them in Tupperware even if they canā€™t eat with us. Iā€™ve only cooked twice in the past week.
I have friends who force me to study (or to not study), and then thank me for holding them accountable, but really, they were the only reason I studied the week before the exam. I ramble, talk too much, and my sentences wrap themselves into a knot, but they try to understand anyways.
I have friends whom I might have angered and hurt at one point, but they still pick up the pieces when I inevitably break something, and they sit with me, and they watch really, really bad (like really, really bad) movies with me, and they listen. I remember the confused, but accepting smile on their face, as I tell them about the favorite musical, a story written at the National Gallery, an art history lesson given from my shoddy memory, and Van Gogh.
Some of them live in a different time zone, but the three hours that shouldā€™ve gaped between us shrink into a sliver, visible only by the strain around my eyes as I try to stay awake for a little longer, so I can listen to their voices a little more. Iā€™m grateful to have people who hold the same memories that I do, nearly a decade and a half worth of time spent together. One wrote me a letter on water-stained lined paper, because they said I seemed excited to receive letters. I try to think back to the first time we met, and Iā€™m overwhelmed by the memoriesā€”dollar ice cream, petty fights, a pen prodding me in the side.
So thatā€™s what Iā€™m really grateful forā€”the people who are a constant. A nearly daily text message, a game of chess, an answer to my questions no matter how much out of the blue. Constant not in that they are always there, but that they can and will be there.
Thereā€™s a very loud internal monologue in my head, insistent even when Iā€™m just barely waking up in the morning, and Iā€™m thankful for the people who quiet the voice down to a dull hum in the back of my mind. Iā€™m thankful for the people who donā€™t question it anymore, and let me be the way that I am. Iā€™ve tried to change it for so long, but on good days, I imagine it to be part of my bio now. Annette Cai, 22 y/o F. Sheā€™s okay, just quiet. The words are far away, but theyā€™ll be back soon.
Itā€™s crazy, because I am so happy. For someone with nothing to her nameā€”no money, no land, no title, no skills, nor talentā€”I am incredibly, dizzyingly happy. Sometimes, when Iā€™m alone and have a moment to think, I fear that someone somehow smuggled me a cheat code. But maybe the cheat code is just growing up and out of my own head.
So, Iā€™ll be okay. I call my grandparents from time to time, and we speak for thirty minutes, because all we need is to hear each otherā€™s voices. Mom is doing okay. Sheā€™s happier now, I think. Busy, but not too busy. Sometimes, sheā€™s lonely, but arenā€™t we all? I love Boston, but I miss home. Iā€™ve been trying hard not to count down, because I want to appreciate the time Iā€™m here, but thereā€™s a countdown, and I miss my friends and family.
Itā€™s almost Christmas.
I hope that I will be able to see you soon. There are so many other people Iā€™m grateful forā€”mentors who message me every holiday, neighbors who offer baked goods, the security guard at the med campusā€”but I donā€™t think I can remember them all. Isnā€™t that wild?
Iā€™ve been thinking about this more recently, because Iā€™ve been trying to re-find purpose, with a lowercase p. I feel like Iā€™ve zoomed a little too much out of the small details, but not quite enough to reach the big picture, so Iā€™m just getting this odd crop of an image that I donā€™t understand. You are not here, but because of that, you are always here. I hope I am becoming a person that you are proud of. On days when I canā€™t find the reason for studying (that 70%? something higher? the satisfaction of doing well?), I imagine you looking disapprovingly at me, and I search a little harder. Thereā€™s not much I want to ask for anymore, but I hope I am becoming that person.
See you soon.
daily song rec - 那äŗ›ä½ å¾ˆå†’险ēš„ę¢¦ - ꞗäæŠę°
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yutalatte Ā· 7 years ago
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Autumn With NCT 127
AN: Now that itā€™s September, itā€™s starting to turn fall where I live. And that means that things are dying, my favorite colors are back in style, baggy clothes are acceptable once again and Iā€™m feeling sentimental. So I hope you like this.Ā 
If you want me to add other members, just let me know.
Johnny
Johnny seems like such a road trip person to me. It doesnā€™t even matter where the destination is. Heā€™d hold your hand and youā€™d sing songs at the top of your lungs. Maybe youā€™d drive through the mountains where the roads are winding and nerve-wracking, but the view at the end makes it so worth it. Or on the other hand, he might drive you to the downtown of whatever city you were in and youā€™d wander around the stores for awhile, gazing at the decorations lining the windows before returning to the car to find another destination. Ultimately, as long as the two of you were together, youā€™d go anywhere. Fall brought out the adventure in the two of you and when you werenā€™t focussed on the road or whatever attraction youā€™d just reached, youā€™d spend your time falling in love. On nights when it was raining and you were both too tired to go any further, youā€™d stop at a hotel and spend the night wrapped up in each other. Seeing the world with the love of your life was all either of you had ever wanted.Ā 
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Taeil
I feel like Taeil would love to go shopping at different stores with you. Not necessarily to buy anything, but just to be out in the fall. You would get coffees and look at all of the holiday decorations as they were put up little by little throughout the season. Youā€™d go shop for Halloween costumes together and try on cute scarves and beanies. It would turn into your own personal fashion show that would result in unstoppable laughter. His hand would stay intertwined with yours, both inside his coat pocket to prevent them from getting too cold. Heā€™d steal quick, affectionate glances at you, finding it unbearably cute that your nose and cheeks were turning pink because of the cold. If your face ever got too cold, heā€™d put his warm hands on your cheeks and give you sweet eskimo kisses. At the end of the day, youā€™d both be worn out from your antics and just fall asleep on the couch together.
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Taeyong
Taeyong would love for the two of you to dress up together for Halloween. Youā€™d pass out candy to the children in the neighborhood and Taeyongā€™s face would just light up whenever one of them came up to you two in the cutest costume gawking at how their favorite superhero (or whoever you decided to dress up as) was real. You would both finish off what was left of the candy (not much) while watching reruns of the Harry Potter movies. On the cold November nights after Halloween, you sat behind Taeyong, your head rested on his shoulder and your arms around his waist, while he wrote new music. It helped him to have you there for support and if he ever seemed to be getting tooĀ worked up over a certain line in the chorus or anything else, youā€™d be there to pull him away and just love on him until he was no longer stressed. Though at that point, he was too consumed with kissing you to worry about going back to writing.
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Yuta
Listen, Yuta is such a soft boyfriend. He just wants to do all the cute couple things with you and heĀ just wants to be cuddly and sweet and make you happy (Iā€™m going to cry, I love Yuta so much, pls send help). Get ready to have a horror movie marathon because he just wants you to hide in his arms for seven hours straight (and also just completely forget about the movie and makeout with him). But of course, this is immediately followed by a Halloweentown movie marathon because theyā€™re fall classics and also great movies to remove all the scary thoughts. Yuta would take you to a pumpkin patch so that the two of you could go on a hay ride, and sit by a bonfire, and pick out your own pumpkin to carve back at home. You two would probably end up adopting a puppy within a week of fall beginning because youā€™re both dangerously impulsive, but also because how cute would it be to take walks in the park with your cute doggo, wearing matching scarves and snuggling while watching your puppy play in the leaves ?? (I need a moment.)
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Doyoung
In bed. All day. Doyoung loves being a homebody on most days, but now that the weather is becoming colder and flu season is starting up, he has more excuses reasons as to why he just canā€™t make it to that sporting event or why he canā€™t go out with some friends (ā€œI just donā€™t want to get you all sick, Iā€™m thinking of whatā€™s best for you.ā€ *taeyongĀ rolling his eyes excessively and you giggling in the background*). So, every moment that he can spend at home, in pajamas, with you, he does. Youā€™ve already had five movie marathons in one month and despite your constant pleading to go get groceries and make some healthy, homemade food, Doyoung refuses and just continues to order takeout. But itā€™s not just because he doesnā€™t feel like leaving the house. Itā€™s because he genuinely wants to spend all of these moments with you. He wants to be as close to you as possible. His arms are always wrapped around you and of course, you reciprocate all of the affection. Neither of you hasĀ ever felt so content.
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Jaehyun
I think Jaehyun would be up for whatever you wanted to do, as long as at the end of the day you were both safe and warm in each otherā€™s arms. Youā€™d lounge around in one of his sweatshirts (and a scarf that he learned how to knit for you at some point), while he cooked a warm meal for the both of you. You would spend a few nights at a local fair riding the ferris wheel and snuggling to fight off the cold. You would get hot chocolates that inevitably caused one of you to have whipped cream on your nose. There wouldnā€™t be much to say in these moments, your adoring gazes spoke for themselves. At one point you tried to tag along to a bonfire with a few other members, but their relentless teasing about how sickly in love the two of you were made that a one-time event. When the end of the day came, Jaehyun would softly sing you to sleep, only pausing to kiss your nose and forehead.
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Winwin
Thereā€™s just so many adventures to be had. You know that one coffee shop that looks cute, but youā€™ve never been to because you have trustĀ issues with coffee made outside of your own brewer or Starbucks? Sicheng would take you there. (And itā€™s actually some of the best coffee youā€™ve ever had.) He would take you to all of the fallĀ festivals that are held each year and youā€™d have a whole wall of polaroids that youā€™d bought at each event. The both of you would be experts on the different ciders and foods that were set out at different booths. Whenever youā€™d get too cold, he would wrap you up in coats and scarves and just giggle contently at the bundled mess that you are. He would glow under the warm street lights and sometimes the two of you would just be caught up staring at each other and smiling. For the two of you, fall is a time to make special memories and to do all the things that you donā€™t do otherwise.
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MarkĀ 
Mark is such an energetic ball of fluff. Thereā€™s just so much he wants to do and see with you and his determinedness to do them knows no bounds. For the past two years, the two of you have participated (and won) in a pumpkin carving contest. Mark still holds the record for the most bobbed apples in under a minute. He most definitely has taken you to every music and arts festival within close distance and you now may need him to help you put some more shelves up because the amount of fair souvenirs heā€™s won for you have taken up all the space you have. Also, I would bet money that heā€™s tried to hand knit you a scarf just because heā€™s a cutie. (Someone pls give him best boyfriend award.) He would love to decorate for fall with you and to decorate sweets together. He would love seeing you get bundled up to go somewhere and would just giggle uncontrollably at how cute you were. Of course, he himself didnā€™t dress warm enough, so heā€™d end up zipped inside of your oversized coat to stay warm, the two of you looking like a two-headed amalgamation as you walked down the street, but at least you were both warm and happy. There would never be a dull moment with him and when both of you were beyond worn out, youā€™d just sit in front of the TV with bowls of Halloween candy watching old horror movies. Then Taeyong would walk in and have to hold back tears because his baby Mark is growing up so fast (lol someone stop me)
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Haechan
While fall is a wonderful time for many reasons, it also includes the start of a new school year. So, you and this baby sunshine suffer through exams together, but donā€™t worry, thereā€™s still so many happy times. Part of Haechanā€™s personality is just bringing joy to every situation so he would make sure that you made the most of the fall season in light of your studies. You would spend hours at coffee shops together laughing until your sides hurt. Youā€™d go to haunted houses together and it would always end with the two of you clutching onto one another. He would never let you slip into a study slump, always making sure that you were eating enough and keeping you from getting too stressed (which usually involves giving up one of his sweaters for you). Youā€™d return the favor and it would bring you closer together each day. Youā€™d spend late nights talking on the phone about anything from why this history project was specifically designed to make you suffer to sweet confessions of adoration.
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blogwritetheworld Ā· 7 years ago
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Featured Writer: Molly Bovett
Molly Bovett has found a way to incorporate her love of writing into all facets of her life. Molly, who has a passion for learning new languages, has banded together with a group of fellow ā€œpolyglotsā€ to start an online linguistics magazine. And when sheā€™s not preparing for the magazineā€™s upcoming launch, sheā€™s working on an urban fantasy novel. But, above all, Molly hopes her writing will inspire others to join her in enacting social change. Read on to learn how Molly plans to improve the world around her through writing.
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You're in the process of starting an online language magazine for fellow "linguistics enthusiastsā€. Can you tell us more about how and why you decided to start this project?
The project was started by someone who wrote a blog post about a month ago inviting writers and language-lovers to work together on an online magazine on the topic of global communication and the importance of foreign languages. I got involved to produce poetry, photography, and articles for the magazine. And while the project has only launched this final week of October, the entire team is excited to work on this publication together. Our goal is to offer information and to show people the importance of cultures and languages different than your own. The first edition should be out sometime in the New Year.
What advice do you have for someone who is interested in starting their own online magazine or blog?
First of all, make sure that itā€™s definitely something you have time and patience for before you begin work on it. Iā€™m already blown back by how much hard work and time weā€™ve all set aside for this! You might be in charge of a team of editors, writers, artists and designers so you'll need to exercise your leadership skills to make sure everyone is on task. Secondly, advertise as best you can. The blogger leading my project has a huge following, so finding people who are interested in the project was not difficult. One of the things weā€™re going to focus on over the course of the next few weeks is setting up social media pages to advertise the magazine.
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You mention in your bio that you're eager to use your writing as a tool for social change. In what ways? Why is this important to you?
The writer I always give as an example when asked about writing for change is the marvelously talented Lin-Manuel Mirandaā€”writer of the Broadway hit, Hamilton. The song ā€˜Almost Like Prayingā€™ has drawn attention to the crisis in Puerto Rico and given a voice to people on the island who feel unheard by the world. When I say writing for social change and spreading a message, this is what I mean. Songs and poetry can connect to people in ways no other media can, and the right words in the right order can work miracles.
Encouraging social change is especially important to me because every day there is a new problem in the world and every day there are people who ignore itā€”either because they donā€™t think it affects them or they donā€™t think they can help. I want to write to show them theyā€™re wrong. I donā€™t want to be powerless in the face of injustice and if being a skilled writer is my blessing, I will find a way to use it to the best of my ability.
In the "Message From Writer" section of your profile, you have a word count for Blackbird, a novel you're working on. Can you tell us more about this?
Blackbird is an urban fantasy novel Iā€™ve been working on since the start of the summer. To summarize, itā€™s about a girl raised to be a criminal who, upon realizing the errors of her ways, runs away from home to try and escape her dangerous lifestyle. Unfortunately for all involved, this backfires horribly and she winds up in more trouble than before. Her new problems force her to choose between rejecting her violent ways entirely or embracing them to salvage what little she has to live for.
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If you could insert yourself in the world of any fictional novel, which one would it be and why?
Iā€™d insert myself in the world of Welcome To Night Vale. Yes, itā€™s a podcast, but there is also a published stand-alone novel about it. Itā€™s true that someone mysteriously vanishes or dies every other day, but being bored would be completely impossible. Iā€™d love to be part of the Night Vale community and get involved with the murderous librarians, the giant glow cloud, and the hooded figures in the dog park.
What are three things our readers might not know about living in England?
First, the school holiday system is a pain. I have almost no holiday time whatsoever this year and when I finish school I have a fourteen week summer. Who needs that much holiday time? What am I supposed to do with myself? Iā€™m going to run out of things to do by mid-July. Optimum holiday time is four weeks, but that unfortunately never happens. Secondly, just because England is a comparatively small country, it doesnā€™t mean itā€™s easy to get from one place to another. I once read an American crime novel where the protagonist traveled from London to Newcastle in one hour. You drive for an hour in London, and you donā€™t leave London. The book was rather old (1950s, I think?) and a bit of an extreme example, but still, it takes far longer to get around the country than people seem to think. Finally, the Brits have queuing down to a fine art. If you come to England and you mess up the delicate process of lining up to buy things in the supermarket, someone will make you very aware of it before you even realize youā€™ve done something wrong. I once crossed through a long queue to get to my bus at the other end of the station and a woman started yelling at me for cutting in line. I wasnā€™t even getting the same bus as her.
About Molly
My name is Molly Bovett and I come from a small market town in the middle of the English countryside. I'm in my final year of secondary school and recently, writing has turned from a relaxing pastime into a sort of coping mechanism to get me through the exam seasons. Writingā€”poetry in particularā€”is something I've always devoted time to. I'm fascinated by how powerful words can be. They help us express our emotions and thoughts in a way that no other method can. I aspire to master the craft of using my poems as catalysts for change. If I could help even one person with my writing, I will have satisfied myself. Beyond poetry and exams, my time is devoted to art, activism, and the study of foreign languages. I love doing watercolor paintings and when I have time, I'd like to produce paintings that are personal to me, such as artwork for the local Pride parades. The languages I currently study are French, German, and my beloved Swedish. All of my passions are presently being combined into one awesome projectā€”I have just started working on a yet-to-be-published online language magazine alongside fellow polyglots and linguistics enthusiasts.
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quiddy-writes Ā· 7 years ago
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Fuck Me - Dean
@saxxxology is such a fucking enabler. Happy birthday, bitch. Enjoy your series. This chapterā€™s for me and my fellow Dean whores.
Fun fact: both boys are their season 3 ages.
Another fun fact: I fucking hate titles so much. Ā All the credit to Saxxy for helping me pick a title.
Fandom:Ā Supernatural & Harry Potter Pairing:Ā DADA Teacher!Dean x Student!Reader Words: 3,671 Summary: A seventh year Hufflepuff finally decides to confess to her crush. He just happens to be her Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Warnings: Unprotected sex, oral (male and female receiving), a teacher and student fucking (please donā€™t actually fuck your teachers/students, guys. Let me have my problematic kink, but donā€™t actually do it) Other Parts: Sam - Dickchat
Your name: submit What is this? document.getElementById("submit").addEventListener('click', function(){ walk(document.body, /\by\/n\b|\(y\/n\)/ig, document.getElementById("inputTxt").value); }); function walk(node, v, p){ var child, next; switch (node.nodeType){ case 1: // Element case 9: // Document case 11: // Document fragment child = node.firstChild; while (child){ next = child.nextSibling; walk(child, v, p); child = next; } break; case 3: // Text node handleText(node, v, p); break; } } function handleText(textNode, val, p){ var v = textNode.nodeValue; v = v.replace(val, p); textNode.nodeValue = v; }
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Y/N was beyond nervous.
Ellie squeezed her friendā€™s hand tightly, looking up at her with a reassuring smile. ā€œBreathe, stupid.ā€
Y/N rolled her eyes. ā€œDonā€™t act like youā€™re not freaking out.ā€
ā€œOf course I am. I, however, am breathing.ā€
Y/N ripped her hand from her friendā€™s and shoved her playfully. ā€œDick.ā€
They walked down the grand hallways of Hogwarts, a place that had been their home away from home for seven years now. And this walk down the grand halls would be one of their last.
Exams had ended the day prior, and this was one of their last days as students.
Soon, the girls would be off to St. Mungoā€™s to train as healers. Both had decided years prior to do so, especially after Ellie was outed as an aurologist. Plus, they worked well together, so their path was set.
They had one other pact still to honor, though.
The start of this year had brought a few staffing changes to the school. Amongst those new changes were two new teachers for both Divination and Defense Against the Dark Arts.
The two men were brothers and both mustā€™ve been part Veela or something for how unfairly gorgeous they were.
Dean Winchester, the elder of the two and the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, was tall and gorgeous. His short, sandy brown hair was always sticking up from him running his thick fingers through it. His green eyes were framed by crinkles when his plush lips pulled back to reveal perfect teeth in a wide smile. He worked his unflattering robes like he was a runway model, and Y/N had spent more classes than she cared to admit imagining what he looked like without the robes. What Y/N loved most about him, however, were his silly jokes that often made her snort in laughter in class and bring out that beautiful smile she dreamed about. They could often be found giggling together after class, talking about anything and everything.
Sam, the other brother and Divination professor, was tall enough to look Hagrid in the eye. With long brown hair that looked like it had walked out of a shampoo advertisement. His hazel eyes were kind and, unlike his brother, he always had a kind word and a simple answer to any questions. He could often be found with Hagrid when he wasn't in his tower, helping with the care of magical creatures. In fact, the first time the girls had seen him, he was caring for the thestrals to lead them to the castle. Ellie would make her way to the grounds outside often to check in her plants in the tents, then wander over to the hut that housed Hagrid in search of the younger Professor Winchester. It was there where heā€™d shared his secret: he was a legilimens and had been training for years to control it, yet he still sometimes found himself reading otherā€™s minds, even when he didnā€™t mean to. Sheā€™d shared the secret of her own aurology, and a bong was quickly formed that needed no words.
The girls had quickly learned of the otherā€™s crushes and, by the winter holidays, they made a pact: at the end of the year, they'd confess to their professors when they were no longer students. Neither expected anything to come from it, though they were equally convinced that the other would live happily ever after with the professor of their choosing, and so they swore.
Finally, six months later, the time had come.
So they walked to the Divination tower, one much more visibly shaken than the other.
They stood at the bottom and hugged before Ellie went off. Y/N wished her good luck just before her friend went out of sight, and Ellie shouted the same platitude back down the stairs.
Thus, Y/N was left alone to walk, on jelly legs, towards the Defense Against the Dark Arts. She wrung her fingers, feeling increasingly nauseous with every step. It felt like eternity before she finally came to the dark wooden door. She took one last deep breath, trying to stop her shaking as she knocked.
She heard his deep voice answer her with an invitation to come in. She closed her eyes, sent up a prayer to whatever deity she could think of, and pushed open the heavy door.
Dean was sat on top of his desk, thumbing through an old book she didnā€™t recognize. His eyes darted up and, once he recognized her, he smiled. ā€œHey, Y/N,ā€ he greeted.
ā€œGood morning, Professor,ā€ she was so proud her voice only wavered a little.
He waved her off, closing his notebook and placing it on his desk behind him. ā€œPlease, Y/N, Iā€™m no longer your professor. Just Dean is fine.ā€
ā€œOh,ā€ she flushed, not expecting that.
ā€œSo, what can I do for you?ā€
ā€œAh,ā€ she started, suddenly unable to swallow. ā€œI simply wished toā€¦to say goodbye.ā€
Deanā€™s smile faltered. ā€œYeah, thatā€™s right. Youā€™re off to St. Mungoā€™s, arenā€™t you?ā€
She cocked her head to the side. ā€œHow did you know that?ā€
ā€œYou told me,ā€ his brow furrowed. ā€œRemember?ā€
She vaguely remembered it, but, honestly, she could barely remember anything from before her final exams at this point. ā€œThat mustā€™ve been months ago.ā€
He laughed. ā€œYou remember who wants to be a healer when everyone else wants to play professional Quidditch.ā€
That simple statement made her feel better and worse at the same time. ā€œAw, and here I thought I was special,ā€ she joked.
Dean shrugged. ā€œSorry to disappoint.ā€
She waved him off. ā€œIā€™m only joking.ā€
ā€œWell,ā€ he laughed. ā€œThis is an awkward goodbye.ā€
She swallowed thickly. ā€œIā€¦ā€ she breathed deep. ā€œI think Iā€™m about to make it more awkward.ā€
His brow raised. ā€œSorry?ā€
She closed her eyes and took one final, deep breath.
ā€œY/N?ā€
She opened her eyes and answered with an awkward smile. ā€œIā€™m in love with you.ā€
ā€œO-Ohā€¦ā€ Dean stuttered, his eyes wide enough to nearly roll out of his skull. ā€œI, uhā€¦youā€¦what?ā€
ā€œLook, I donā€™t expect anything,ā€ she said. ā€œIā€™m not an idiot. I justā€¦Iā€™d rather get it out there than hold it in and thatā€™s crazy selfish of me, I know, butā€¦ā€
Dean hadnā€™t moved, hadnā€™t breathed since her confession, something she finally noticed. She waved her hand in front of his face. ā€œHello?ā€
When he still didnā€™t respond, she ran a hand through her hair. ā€œPlease,ā€ she huffed. ā€œCan you say something so we can be done with this?ā€
ā€œWh-What the hell am I supposed to say?!ā€
ā€œI donā€™t know,ā€ she said. ā€œHow about ā€˜Iā€™m flattered, but obviously I donā€™t return your feelings?ā€™ā€
Deanā€™s Adamā€™s apple bobbed. ā€œI, uhā€¦ā€ he tried before falling silent again.
Finally, sheā€™d had enough. Her face was on fire, her knees were shaking, and her heart was aching enough to take her to Madame Pomfreyā€™s at this rate. ā€œLook, you know what? Itā€™s fine. Have a good day, Professor.ā€
She turned on her heel, more than ready to go back to her friendā€™s room in the Hufflepuff dorm and maybe indulge in some of Ellieā€™s more medicinal plants, when she was suddenly stopped.
Her fingers twitched for her wand on instinct, but she managed to look before she acted. Dean was off of his desk, his large hand gripping her hard enough to turn his knuckles white.
ā€œYouā€™re hurting me,ā€ she grumbled, trying to wrench her arm away from him.
He immediately dropped her like she was on fire. ā€œSorry,ā€ he flushed.
ā€œNext time you want me to stay, use your words,ā€ she joked, trying to ease some of the tension.
ā€œCome on,ā€ Dean twined his fingers with Y/Nā€™s, pulling her towards the back of the room.
She frowned. ā€œWhaā€”Where are we going?ā€
ā€œSomeone could come in,ā€ he muttered, the tips of his ears turning pink.
She followed in silence, up the steps to the small office that sheā€™d never actually been in before.
It was mostly clean now, with one or two half open trunks mostly filled. A few pictures still hung on the wall, mostly ones of the two brothers as they looked now or slightly younger. One, however, caught her eye: a small boy, a baby in the arms of a beautiful blonde, and an older raven-haired man, all standing together, laughing.
She smiled when she recognized the bright green eyes of her professor in the little boy.
Y/Nā€™s head whipped around at the sound of the door shutting quietly, Dean leaning back against it like he couldnā€™t stand on his own.
She leaned back against his desk, her nerves growing with every passing moment.
After a short eternity of silence, she finally had to ask. ā€œWhy didnā€™t you just let me leave?ā€
He frowned, his brow furrowing. ā€œI couldnā€™t.ā€
ā€œWhy?ā€
A large hand ran down over his face, a heavy sigh of frustration leaving him as he did so. ā€œI couldnā€™t, not like that.ā€
Hope swelled in her chest and her breathing started coming out short, like there wasnā€™t enough air in the room. ā€œWhy not?ā€
He finally looked at her. ā€œBecauseā€¦Iā€™d be lying if I said I didnā€™t think about you that way.ā€
The biggest smile sheā€™d ever had cracked her face. ā€œYeah?ā€
ā€œBut, I meanā€¦Iā€™m twelve years older than you.ā€
ā€œSo?ā€
He rolled his eyes. ā€œYou really donā€™t think itā€™ll be an issue?ā€
She pushed herself off of his desk, which made Dean tense slightly. ā€œDo you love me?ā€
It took a long time for him to answer, and, when he did, it was with a simple nod; a simple nod that looked like it almost pained him, like he was unsure it was the right move.
With that, she began walking slowly toward him, afraid of spooking him. ā€œThen, I donā€™t know about you, but I donā€™t particularly care about what assholes might say.ā€
He smirked, even though a hint of doubt still obviously plagued him. ā€œYou sure?ā€
She answered by slowly running her hands from his elbows upwards, before encircling them around his neck. He watched her the entire time. Moving at the same pace, she pushed herself up on her tiptoes and kissed him.
His lips were even softer than sheā€™d imagined, late at night when she was alone in her dorm. His calloused hands came up to hold her face in place, like he was afraid sheā€™d pull away.
She had no intention of doing any such thing.
Her arms grabbed the labels of his robe, pulling herself up on her tiptoes to press her body against his.
His hands trailed down to the clasp of her Hufflepuff robes and quickly undid it. He then helped her shrug it off and onto the floor. Her fingers found his loosened tie and practically ripped it off of him. It snapped from the velocity, and Dean pulled away in shock.
She offered a sheepish smile, to which Dean simply shrugged and began kissing her once again. He pulled her tie apart, then it joined his on the floor. Dean then rolled his shoulders, letting his robes pool around his feet, before returning his hands to her waist. Giving her plenty of time to pull away, his hands pulled her dress shirt from her skirt. Then, they trailed up underneath it, his rough fingers scratching a bit at her skin.
Her own shaky fingers began unbuttoning his shirt. After a minute or so of fumbling, his bare chest was revealed to her, and she began exploring.
Her shirt was unbuttoned without her notice and it fell to the floor, leaving her only in her bra and skirt.
Shoes were kicked off as Deanā€™s lips trailed down her jaw, neck, and to her collar bone. His light stubble scratched at her soft skin, bordering on ticklish. She shoved his shirt off his shoulders, whining quietly when he didnā€™t immediately move his hands from her back.
He chuckled and pulled the shirt off before immediately resuming his old position, mouthing along the cups of her bra.
She laughed breathlessly, her fingers tangling in his short hair.
ā€œWhat?ā€ he mumbled, leaning up to suckle on her collarbone.
ā€œCanā€™t believe this is happening, thatā€™s all.ā€
He pulled away, looking worried. ā€œI donā€™tā€¦Iā€™ve never been with a student before. Youā€™re special, alright?ā€
She pushed herself up on her tiptoes, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. ā€œI know.ā€
ā€œAnd this isnā€™t a one time thing. Iā€™m taking you out after graduation.ā€
ā€œCanā€™t wait.ā€
ā€œIā€™m serious.ā€
She gave him a soft smile, and answered by pulling his lips back to hers. ā€œI know,ā€ she mumbled.
The last articles of their clothing hit the floor until they were only in their undergarments.
Dean pulled away again, which made Y/N pout and try to reel him back in. He chuckled, disentangling himself from her. ā€œGimme me a sec.ā€
She stood and watched as Dean took his own robe and laid it out gently on the ground. He then turned to her and held his hand out. ā€œIs this okay?ā€
ā€œItā€™s perfect,ā€ she took his hand and squeezed it.
With a giant grin gracing his features, Dean climbed down onto the robe and pulled her along with him. She settled herself in his lap, straddling him. She leaned down, not letting an inch of space between them, and kissed him. One of his hands rested on her hip, whilst the other hand rested between her shoulderblades, holding her close.
She pulled away when she couldnā€™t breathe, bringing Dean into a sitting position with her.
Dean took that as his cue. His hand on her back ran down to her bra clasp and undid it in one try. She threw it behind them and Dean palmed her breasts. He massaged them with his fingers and tongue, finding every place that made her moan and marking her as his. His teeth worried her nipples, turning them red and swollen. Dark, purple marks were beginning to mar her skin.
Her own fingers carded in his hair, tugging lightly on the sandy brown locks. She fell forward, only being held up by Dean. Her hips began grinding down onto his growing erection, looking for some sort of relief.
He bucked up into her, his hands grabbing her hips to guide her a little better.
She yanked back Deanā€™s head a little too roughly and looked into his glazed green eyes. Her lips crashed against his, soft moans muffled by the connection as they continued to grind against each other.
ā€œStop,ā€ she finally pulled away, trying to catch her breath.
ā€œAre you okay?ā€ Dean spoke between pants, still managing to sound concerned.
She nodded. ā€œMore than.ā€ With that, she stood up and began pulling down her panties.
Dean watched, unable to look away as she, rather ungracefully, disentangled herself from the ruined piece of clothing.
She stood before him, completely naked and with an audience thoroughly entranced. Deanā€™s hands trailed up her thighs to her hips, pulling her close.
ā€œWhatā€™re you doing?ā€
He smirked up at her, pressing kisses up her inner thigh.
ā€œO-Ohā€¦you, uhā€¦really?ā€
ā€œIf you donā€™t mind.ā€
ā€œMind?!ā€ she coughed. ā€œNo, by all means!ā€
He gave her that smirk that made her melt, then pressed a soft kiss to her folds. He nudged her legs open enough to give him space to work his magic.
His finger disappeared into his mouth before reappearing at her entrance, nudging at her.
She worried her bottom lip between her teeth, trying to keep in the sounds Dean was eliciting.
He sucked at her clit and puffy outer lips in turn, finding the parts that made her shake and pull at his hair.
Finally, when he was two fingers deep inside her, she had to push him away. He pouted, but that stopped when she resumed straddling him and pulled him into another passionate kiss. Then her lips left him and continued down a trail similar to the one Dean had traveled down her body.
He knew what was coming without needing to hear her say it. ā€œBabyā€”ā€
ā€œItā€™s my turn,ā€ she spoke evenly, confidently.
With that, he pushed himself up onto his elbows, but made no other move to stop her.
She acquainted herself with every inch of his chest, her taut nipples brushing lightly against his hips and thighs as she moved further down.
Finally, she was met with Deanā€™s dick, hard, weeping, and pressed against his stomach. Her eyes flicked up to meet his as she pressed a soft kiss to the large vein that ran on the underside.
He hissed, fisting the robe underneath him.
She took that as a good sign and began pressing soft kisses from the base up and, when she got to the tip, her tongue slipped out and lapped at the slit. That brought another sound sheā€™d never heard from her professorā€™s lips, so she did it again.
Then she took one last deep breath and took the head into her mouth.
One of his hands grabbed her hair, not pulling or guiding her in any way, but more for purchase.
She took as much as she could into her mouth, her hand wrapping around what she couldnā€™t fit. She found a rhythm as best she could, twisting her wrist as she bobbed up and down. One of her hands rested on his hip, putting a token effort into holding him in place. His hips still thrust into her mouth of their own accord, but he tried to hold himself back for her after she gagged the first time.
Finally, he sat up and pulled her lips back to his.
With that, she sat back in his lap, still kissing Dean like she needed him more than oxygen.
ā€œYou sure you wanna do this?ā€
She laughed, pulling him in for a quick kiss. Then her hand reached down and grabbed him, lining him up. ā€œIf youā€™re in, so am I.ā€
He chuckled. ā€œIā€™m about to be in.ā€
That pulled a snort from her, and she buried her head in the crook of his neck. ā€œThat was awful.ā€
ā€œItā€™s why you love me.ā€
She pulled back with a small smile. ā€œYeah, it is,ā€ she murmured, her fingers trailing along his hairline.
He looked at her like she was one of the Seven Wonders of the World. His hands brushed up her thighs to her hip and pulled lightly downwards, and she obliged.
She had to take a minute once he was fully seated inside her. Dean laid fully back, breathing deep. Y/N took his hands from her hips and interlaced their fingers together, smiling breathlessly. He answered her by squeezing her hands lightly.
With that, she began moving slowly. She rubbed herself back and forth, watching his face for any and all reactions. He never took his eyes off of her. His look of complete adoration made her feel even hotter, and she was sure that she was blushing more than ever before. Instead she started lifting her hips and dropping back down slowly, and she forgot all about her own nerves.
Suddenly, Dean separated their hands, instead wrapping them around her to pull her onto him. She gripped Dean at the base of his skull, pulling him in for a kiss as her movement became limited. Deanā€™s began moving his hips up into her in sharp bursts, unable to help himself anymore.
She pulled away, letting her forehead fall against his as she tried to remember how her limbs worked.
The world shifted suddenly as Dean sat up, letting her put some more weight onto her knees. One of his hands still rested on her upper back, but the other fell to her hips, guiding her movements.
They moved together, Dean kissing at any patch of skin he could reach when he could breathe, and Y/N wrapped herself around him tightly.
She felt the pressure building up inside her and she was nearly over the top. She was trying to speak, tried to tell him what was going on, but speech was beyond her. Dean knew anyway. He pulled her into a kiss, and the hand on her back pushed her closer.
Nothing in particular triggered her orgasm, but more of the entire situation, more the fact that every fiber of her was being held together by Dean. He followed her immediately after, unable to hold himself back any longer with her walls fluttering around him.
When they could each breathe again, Dean slowly laid himself back down on the floor, pulling her with him to lay on his chest, being careful not to dislodge himself from her.
A moment passed before either could speak, and Dean was first, ā€œSon of a bitch.ā€
She giggled, burying her head in the crook of his neck. ā€œI donā€™t know if my legs are working right now.ā€
ā€œSweetheart, you arenā€™t the only one.ā€
The pulled more giddy laughter from her.
They were silent a minute more before Dean spoke again. ā€œI meant it, you know. That this isnā€™t a one time thing.ā€
ā€œI know,ā€ she said. ā€œIt might be a little hard with me over at St. Mungoā€™s, butā€¦ā€
ā€œWe at least have the summer. And weā€™ll only be a Floo trip away once school starts.ā€
She began to shiver, reaching over for her robe and wand. She sat up fully, finally letting Dean slip out of her. With a swish of her wand, both parties (along with Deanā€™s robe) were clean. She then laid down beside him and pulled her cloak over the both of them.
Dean pulled her into a hug, settling her in. ā€œYou donā€™t have to go anywhere, right?ā€
ā€œI promised Iā€™d meet Ellie in her dorm when I was done,ā€ she said. ā€œWhy, you wanna cuddle?ā€
ā€œShut up,ā€ he grumbled, holding her closer. Then a sly grin came over his face, and he turned to her. ā€œYouā€™re meeting Ellie when youā€™re done here, right?ā€
Her eyes narrowed. ā€œYesā€¦why?ā€
With that he rolled over on top of her and, right before he crashed his lips to hers, he said, ā€œBecause Iā€™m not done with you yet.ā€
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nathjonesey-75 Ā· 7 years ago
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Last Year, Vintages and Resolve
Twenty-five years ago, Bjorkā€™s first album; Debut ā€“ made a huge statement in its first song, ā€œHuman Behaviourā€. The first lines spoke:
Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā ā€œIf you ever get close to a human Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā And human behaviour Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā Be ready, be ready to get confused
Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā There's definitely, definitely, definitely no logic Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā To human behaviour Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā But yet so, yet so irresistible
Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā And thereā€™s no mapā€¦ā€
Whilst I began writing this a few weeks ago, on holiday - as a personal review of 2017, the refreshing of mind, the starting of a new year and inadvertent reflections as usual - bolster the topics to be covered. Bjork happened to come in a brainwave which fits in to the last yearā€™s many incidents. Hear me out.
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Thinking back to 1993 ā€“ twenty-five years ago - and when I bought the album, thinking what kind of year it was. I was experiencing real bereavement for the first time as my grandfather and other close relatives from my his (my motherā€™s) side of the family, were lost. My father first experienced the depths of mental health issues clashing with work, forcing him to retire from his headmasterā€™s position. I was supposedly sitting important exams, which had to be retaken. At the same time, I broke through into the Welsh Schools U-18 Rugby Union squad. Llanelli RFC were arguably the best rugby club in Britain at the time, having won the league and cup double, before the European Cup was introduced. Liverpool FC was still recovering from the highs of the 1980s and the low of Hillsborough. I also began learning the guitar. Still a kid, wanting to leave a small town and see the world. Master NaĆÆve, esq at your service.
The human behaviour analogy clicked into the same gear as my first ideas of how we humans like to peculiarly categorise things for reference purposes. Music and arts are sorted into genres. Wine into grape and year. OKā€¦ Iā€™m already listing my priorities in life, but there is a point, as I will focus primarily upon wines and how they are recognised by their makers; as well as connoisseurs for the quality of year.
For anybody who wouldnā€™t understand the term ā€œa good yearā€ in wine terms ā€“ this directs the drinker or buyer into knowing the climate of that year and its effect on wine standards and grape fermentation. In my-almost five years of life in Australia, I know 2013 was a good year for making Cabernet Sauvignon (my preferred red), as it is a dry climate red wine. During that year, the grapes in the dryer areas ripened on a long summer of high temperatures,creating a great selection of wines of this grape from certain regions in Australia.
So when people reflect upon years in the same way ā€“ personal years ā€“ the climate of mood and high - or low temperatures; of happenings and incidents in lives along with health, as we get older ā€“ will dictate to our recall whether it was a good year, a passable year; a bad year, or a ā€œthis wine is vile plonk, waiterā€ ā€“ kind of year. When Bjorkā€™s Debut first arrived, all I knew of wine was that France was supposedly la crĆØme de la crĆØme of making it, having only travelled as far as France, Germany and Cyprus in my then - eighteen years. The only wines which pubs in small town Wales near me served in those days ā€“ were the lavish choices ofā€¦.red andā€¦ white.
While the vast majority of friends, acquaintances and public writers would agree that 2016 was like a sour, flat, out-of-date Echo Falls red; this past twelve months since the ā€œyear of grand obituariesā€ ā€“ has not been short of incidents. Moving into January 2017 I felt a necessary steely resolve, not only within myself to face the world head-on, but by the sensitive wider public in the face of political adversity and solidarity i.e. terrorism, the rise of the far right, dumb voting and megalomaniac buffoon ā€œleadersā€ (easier to narrow down the worst ones by their own anti-title).
Itā€™s an encourangement that this was the approach and long may it continue. For my own personal year was packed with more and more corners to turn than New Zealandā€™s mountainous, indirect roads. Spectacular views along the way, yet flabbergastingly ongoing for such short distances. It was as much a relief as it was a shuddering shock at point of diagnosis in March; to learn that I have had deteriorating osteoarthritis in my left hip for over fifteen years. Ā Knowing where exactly it happened (as it was intensely painful at the time), nearly eighteen years ago ā€“ and that a guy with whom I played football as a kid ā€“ did it maliciously, causing gradual physical damage to me since then was the hardest part to swallow. Still, I donā€™t have to look like an overweight carthorse on the rugby masters pitches any more (wink-wink, nudge-nudge, say no more ;) ).
It was a year of beginnings, sporting highs; tragedy and heartbreak; along with the steadiest of professional change progress through learning. Returning to work in a previous capacity was good, despite a gratuitous office ogre choosing to make daily life a little hairy. Ā Seeing my beloved Scarlets return to champion material has been a long time coming, but oh, so sweet. The British and Irish Lions also gave me great pride in July, as did Melbourne Storm in October (and throughout the season), living in very unhomely sport territory. Losing a dear friend to bowel cancer ā€“ a young mother of thirty and wife of a dear, close friend was almost as heartbreaking and awakening as the sheer time-stopping revelation itself, when it happened. Living on the other side of the world in that instance is such an indigestible matter. If there is no logic to human behaviour, then there is as little in such demons as cancer or depression. You are missed, Jas.
I have, in recent years wanted to play more of a part in raising awareness and support for my chosen charities, thus this was as biting an invitation as could come. Plus it added to my ethos of 2017 of putting myself out of my comfort zone in order to face fear. In November, I was honoured to raise $2000AUD for beyondblue Ā - my own drive for mental health awareness ā€“ which was shared with Bowel Cancer UK, in memory of Jasmine Penarroja. A taste of how to raise more money next time was a personal highlight. Of course, jumping out of a plane also was, but itā€™s also a promise to myself that next time will be better and will raise more revenue.
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Regarding the whole mental health cause (while again remembering Bjorkā€™s line that thereā€™s ā€œno logic to human behaviourā€), I can say that my daily, weekly, monthly and long-term management of depression has benefitted. Facing, identifying and managing what is a daily crusade ā€“ can be done. Plus sharing stories, communing with others and knowing there is a way; there is a reason for staying alive and there are people who want you alive ā€“ not dead ā€“ is the message. I am aware to the grassā€™ roots beneath my feet that to people who struggle worse than I do ā€“ it may be easier said than done ā€“ but thatā€™s the point of raising awareness and the steely resolve I mentioned earlier. Having a wonderful wife and partner with the patience of an archangel as well as her own tribulations ā€“ also helps. So donā€™t ostracise yourselves from each other, people. While one personā€™s logic is anotherā€™s melange, you can only make it work how ONLY you need it.
Restarting piano lessons after thirty years was a highlight, as was another jump from the comfort zone to perform at a recital. Upon a grand piano. At a church. Oof. Comfort zone well and truly guffed out and almost followed through there. Perhaps the most exciting thing about the last month or so of 2017 was recording DJ sets for Black Sheep Radio, which was set up by some of my expat football mates. I sincerely hope the station will take off in 2018 and that I can contribute to its rise.
The certain flat Lambrini of 2017 being launched into Room 101 will be having three (yes, 3) motor accidents in the last month, after 23 years of none. Fortunately only one occurred on a public road and a freakish, questionable one at that. Not to mention the obtuse, three-interview process which devoured a chunk of me in May, at the same time as Jasmineā€™s death and starting a new job. Had I been trying for a high-flying financial trophy of a role ā€“ Iā€™d have understood the killer late evenings of attendance and best behaviour after work. But for a mediocre salary and to be unsuccessful after (for the sake of gaining more office experience) what can only be described as ā€œmind gamesā€ from the CEO can only be categorised as a pretentious, overhyped wine which wasnā€™t worth the price. I dodged a bullet there.
If I had to judge 2017 in wine terms or another category, it sadly wasnā€™t a vintage but a staying afloat year, much as was 1993. Certainly, with its uncorking and after giving it time to breathe you could appreciate its qualities in some ways. What it does give the beginning of 2018, is more depth of experience and a tool for sculpting the year into a hopefully more palatable period of time. After nearly five years on this large land, I can only remind myself that thousands of immigrants who try to experience a better life by moving to a new terrain, by completely adapting to new cultures (or lack of at times) often donā€™t build their happy homes in a few years. I have no right to demand more, despite frequent headspins about my CVā€™s content. There is always the option of a return to the original source to hopefully taste the champagne of life again. Yet, after five years here and the grit and resolve of gradual career change and ever-so-steady progress, would a return to - what may by now be - a possibly unfamiliar homeland ā€“ be as advisable?
Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā ā€œAnd thereā€™s no map, and the compass wouldnā€™t help at allā€
Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Ā  Bjork, Human Behaviour (Debut, 1993)
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aurriii Ā· 7 years ago
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Holiday Gift Ideas: 19 Best Selling Books That Will Give Someone The Winter Feels
All found for less on BIGWORDS.com, starting at $1.99.
Let It Snow: Three Holiday RomancesĀ  ā€“ John Green
Three interconnected stories from three bestselling authors: John Green (Paper Towns,Ā The Fault in our Stars), Maureen Johnson (The Name of the Star), and Lauren Myracle (The Internet Girls series.)
Major motion picture in the works!
A Christmas Eve snowstorm transforms one small town into a romantic haven, the kind you see only in movies. Well, kinda. After all, a cold and wet hike from a stranded train through the middle of nowhere would not normally end with a delicious kiss from a charming stranger. And no one would think that a trip to the Waffle House through four feet of snow would lead to love with an old friend. Or that the way back to true love begins with a painfully early morning shift at Starbucks. Thanks to three of todayā€™s bestselling teen authorsā€”John Green, Maureen Johnson, and Lauren Myracleā€”the magic of the holidays shines on these hilarious and charming interconnected tales of love, romance, and breathtaking kisses.
AĀ New York TimesĀ Bestseller!
Bridget Joneā€™s Diary ā€“ Helen Fielding
Bridget Jonesā€™s DiaryĀ is the devastatingly self-aware, laugh-out-loud account of a year in the life of a thirty-something Singleton on a permanent doomed quest for self-improvement. Caught between the joys of Singleton fun, and the fear of dying alone and being found three weeks later half eaten by an Alsatian; tortured by Smug Married friends asking, ā€œHowā€™s your love life?ā€ with lascivious, yet patronizing leers, Bridget resolves to: reduce the circumference of each thigh by 1.5 inches, visit the gym three times a week not just to buy a sandwich, form a functional relationship with a responsible adult and learn to program the VCR. With a blend of flighty charm, existential gloom, and endearing self-deprecation,Ā Bridget Jonesā€™s DiaryĀ has touched a raw nerve with millions of readers the world round. Read it and laughā€”before you cry, ā€œBridget Jones is me!ā€ Great product!
My True Love Gave to Me: Twelve Holiday Stories ā€“ Stephanie Perkins
Twelve romantic holiday stories by twelve bestselling young adult authors edited by Stephanie Perkins.
Ex-Mas ā€“ Kate Brian
Two Exes. One holiday adventure.
Merry Ex-Mas?
Seventeen-year-old Lila Beckwithā€™s parents just left for vacation, and Lilaā€™s all set to throw the holiday party of the season. But when her Christmas-obsessed little brother, Cooper, discovers that global warming is melting the North Pole, he and his best friend, Tyler, take off on a runaway mission to save Santa.
Lila has to get Cooper safely home before her parents get back on Christmas Eve. But the only person who can help her is Tylerā€™s older brother, Beau ā€” a.k.a. Lilaā€™s musician, anti-everything ex-boyfriend.
Itā€™ll take more than a Christmas miracle for Lila and Beau to overcome their differences and find their fugitive brothers. But could a journey destined for disaster help these polar opposites fall in loveā€¦all over again?
All I Want Is Everything ā€“ Cecily Von Ziegesar (Gossip Girl, #3)
Itā€™s Chrismastime and Blair and Serena are best friends again and up to their old tricksā€“partying hard and breaking hearts from Park Avenue to the Caribbean. Blairā€™s mom and Cyrus are having their honeymoon in Salt Key. And when school lets out for the holiday, Blair, Serena, Aaron, and company head down there to blow off steam after their midterm exams. In between Pina Coladas and topless sunbathing, Blair and Serena plot revenge on super-jerk Chuck Bass. Everyone jets back to NYC for Serenaā€™s New Yearā€™s party, during which Nate and Blair may or may not finally go all the way, and Serena may or may not be discovered to be the secret fling of Hollywoodā€™s hottest young leading man. Great product!
Kissing Snowflakes ā€“ Abby Sher
Just in time for the holidays comes the perfect winter break read! This fun, sweet, wintertime book is filled with humor and romance.
The picturesque montain ski lodge is the perfect place to spend winter breakā€¦if you have a boyfriend! Otherwise, that cozy leather couch in front of the crackling fire looks a lot less inviting. Good thing that there are lots of cute, blond, sweater-wearing ski instructors around to choose fromā€¦.
This fun, sweet tale of holiday romance on the slopes is the perfect wintertime read!
The Book Thief ā€“ Markus Zusak
The extraordinary #1 New York Times bestseller that is now a major motion picture, Markus Zusakā€™s unforgettable story is about the ability of books to feed the soul.
It is 1939. Nazi Germany. The country is holding its breath. Death has never been busier, and will become busier still.
Liesel Meminger is a foster girl living outside of Munich, who scratches out a meager existence for herself by stealing when she encounters something she canā€™t resistā€“books. With the help of her accordion-playing foster father, she learns to read and shares her stolen books with her neighbors during bombing raids as well as with the Jewish man hidden in her basement.
In superbly crafted writing that burns with intensity, award-winning author Markus Zusak, author of I Am the Messenger, has given us one of the most enduring stories of our time. The Book Thief
You Better Not Cry: Stories For Christmas ā€“ Augustein Burroughs
A NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER about Christmases past and present from the #1 bestselling author of Running with Scissors, Dry, and A Wolf at the Table At eight years old, Augusten Burroughs profoundly misunderstood the meaning of Christmas. Now proving himself once more ā€œa master of making tragedy funnyā€ (The Miami Herald), he shows how the holidays can bring out the worst in us and sometimes, just sometimes, the very best. From the author described in USA Today as ā€œone of the most compelling and screamingly funny voices of the new centuryā€ comes a book about surviving the holiday we love to hate, and hate to love.
Alaska, 1920: a brutal place to homestead, and especially tough for recent arrivals Jack and Mabel. Childless, they are drifting apartā€“he breaking under the weight of the work of the farm; she crumbling from loneliness and despair. In a moment of levity during the seasonā€™s first snowfall, they build a child out of snow. The next morning the snow child is goneā€“but they glimpse a young, blonde-haired girl running through the trees.
This little girl, who calls herself Faina, seems to be a child of the woods. She hunts with a red fox at her side, skims lightly across the snow, and somehow survives alone in the Alaskan wilderness. As Jack and Mabel struggle to understand this child who could have stepped from the pages of a fairy tale, they come to love her as their own daughter. But in this beautiful, violent place things are rarely as they appear, and what they eventually learn about Faina will transform all of them. magic snow child haunting fairy tale ending joy
The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe ā€“ C. S. Lewis (Chronicles of Narnia #1)
A beautiful paperback edition of The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, book two in the classic fantasy series The Chronicles of Narnia. This edition features cover art by three-time Caldecott Medal-winning illustrator David Wiesner and interior black-and-white illustrations by the seriesā€™ original illustrator, Pauline Baynes. Four adventurous siblingsā€”Peter, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy Pevensieā€”step through a wardrobe door and into the land of Narnia, a land frozen in eternal winter and enslaved by the power of the White Witch. But when almost all hope is lost, the return of the Great Lion, Aslan, signals a great change . . . and a great sacrifice. Open the door and enter a new world! The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe is the second book in C. S. Lewisā€™s classic fantasy series, which has been captivating readers of all ages with a magical land and unforgettable characters for over sixty years. This is a stand-alone read, but if you would like to discover more about Narnia, pick up The Horse and His Boy, the third book in The Chronicles of Narnia.
Well, apparently I live here nowā€”my mom just bought the place. And named it after me, Ashleigh, which was nice. But did she know how cold it is here?? Um, itā€™s a tiny island with not much to do, unless you really like sleigh rides. But I gotta say there are quite a few hot guys on this cold island . . .
The Red Garden ā€“ Alice Hoffman
In exquisite prose, Hoffman offers a transforming glimpse of small-town America, presenting more than three hundred years of passion, dark secrets, loyalty, and redemption in a web of tales where charactersā€™ lives are intertwined by fate and by their own actions.
The Red Garden introduces us to the luminous and haunting world of Blackwell, Massachusetts, capturing the unexpected turns in its history and in our own lives. From the townā€™s founder, a brave young woman from England who has no fear of blizzards or bears, to the young man who runs away to New York City with only his dog for company, the characters in The Red Garden are extraordinary and vivid: a young wounded Civil War soldier who is saved by a passionate neighbor, a woman who meets a fiercely human historical character, a poet who falls in love with a blind man, a mysterious traveler who comes to town in the year when summer never arrives.
At the center of everyoneā€™s life is a mysterious garden where only red plants can grow, and where the truth can be found by those who dare to look.
Beautifully crafted and shimmering with magic, The Red Garden is as unforgettable as it is moving.
Decked With Holly ā€“ Marni Bates (YA Read)
Holly Dayton is about to go way out of her comfort zone. . .
Spending Christmas vacation on a cruise with her two cousins from hell isnā€™t Hollyā€™s idea of a good time. And when in a moment of seasick-fueled desperation she lurches into an open suiteā€“sheā€™s greeted with an eyeful of pepper spray. The culprit? A gorgeous guy calling himself Nick. But when Holly goes to make her exit, she gets the shock of her life: a corridor crammed with screaming teenage fans. Because Nick just happens to be Dominic Wyatt, drummer for ReadySetā€“one of the hottest bands in America.
Suddenly rumors are swirling, and Hollyā€™s face is captured on countless phones and plastered all over the Internet. But the band canā€™t risk a scandal destroying their family-friendly image, so Dominic convinces Holly to be his fake girlfriendā€“just for two weeks. How bad could it be to be fauxmantically involved with one of the cutest rockstars on the planet? Hollyā€™s about to find out. . .
ā€œFans of Meg Cabot will find Marniā€™s voice equally charming and endearing.ā€ā€“Julie Kagawa, New York Times bestselling author
Dash and Lillyā€™s Book of Dares ā€“ Rachel Cohn and David Levithan
A whirlwind romance from the New York Times bestselling authors of Nick & Norahā€™s Infinite Playlist!
ā€œIā€™ve left some clues for you. If you want them, turn the page. If you donā€™t, put the book back on the shelf, please.ā€
16-year-old Lily has left a red notebook full of challenges on her favorite bookstore shelf, waiting for just the right guy to come along and accept its dares. Dash, in a bad mood during the holidays, happens to be the first guy to pick up the notebook and rise to its challenges.
What follows is a whirlwind romance as Dash and Lily trade dares, dreams, and desires in the notebook they pass back and forth at locations all across New York City. But can their in-person selves possibly connect as well as their notebook versions, or will their scavenger hunt end in a comic mismatch of disastrous proportions?
Co-written by Rachel Cohn (GINGERBREAD) and David Levithan, co-author of WILL GRAYSON, WILL GRAYSON with John Green (THE FAULT IN OUR STARS), DASH & LILYā€™S BOOK OF DARES is a love story that will have readers scouring bookstore shelves, looking and longing for a love (and a red notebook) of their own.
Once Upon A River ā€“ Bonnie Jo Campbell
ā€œA demonstration of outstanding skills on the river of American literature.ā€ ā€•Entertainment Weekly ā€œBonnie Jo Campbell has built her new novel like a modern-day craftsman from the old timbers of our national myths about loners living off the land, rugged tales as perilous as they are alluring. Without sacrificing any of its originality, this story comes bearing the saw marks of classic American literature, the rough-hewn sister of The Leatherstocking Tales, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, and Walden.ā€ā€•Ron Charles, Washington Post
City of Thieves ā€“ David Benioff
From the critically acclaimed author of The 25th Hour and When the Nines Roll Over and co-creator of the HBO series Game of Thrones, a captivating novel about war, courage, survival ā€” and a remarkable friendship that ripples across a lifetime.
During the Nazisā€™ brutal siege of Leningrad, Lev Beniov is arrested for looting and thrown into the same cell as a handsome deserter named Kolya. Instead of being executed, Lev and Kolya are given a shot at saving their own lives by complying with an outrageous directive: secure a dozen eggs for a powerful Soviet colonel to use in his daughterā€™s wedding cake. In a city cut off from all supplies and suffering unbelievable deprivation, Lev and Kolya embark on a hunt through the dire lawlessness of Leningrad and behind enemy lines to find the impossible.
By turns insightful and funny, thrilling and terrifying, the New York Times bestseller City of Thieves is a gripping, cinematic World War II adventure and an intimate coming-of-age story with an utterly contemporary feel for how boys become men.
Rules of Civility ā€“ Amor Towels
From the New York Times-bestselling author of A Gentleman in Moscow, a ā€œsharply stylishā€ (Boston Globe) novel of a young woman in post-Depression era New York who suddenly finds herself thrust into high society.
On the last night of 1937, twenty-five-year-old Katey Kontent is in a second-rate Greenwich Village jazz bar when Tinker Grey, a handsome banker, happens to sit down at the neighboring table. This chance encounter and its startling consequences propel Katey on a year-long journey into the upper echelons of New York societyā€”where she will have little to rely upon other than a bracing wit and her own brand of cool nerve.
With its sparkling depiction of New Yorkā€™s social strata, its intricate imagery and themes, and its immensely appealing characters, Rules of Civility won the hearts of readers and critics alike.
Landline ā€“ Rainbow Rowell
As far as time machines go, a magic telephone is pretty useless. TV writer Georgie McCool canā€™t actually visit the past ā€” all she can do is call it, and hope it picks up. And hope he picks up. Because once Georgie realizes she has a magic phone that calls into the past, all she wants to do is make things right with her husband, Neal. Maybe she can fix the things in their past that seem unfixable in the present. Maybe this stupid phone is giving her a chance to start over ā€¦ Does Georgie want to start over? From Rainbow Rowell, the New York Times bestselling author of Eleanor & Park and Fangirl, comes this heart-wrenching ā€“ and hilarious ā€“ take on fate, time, television and true love. Landline asks if two people are ever truly on the same path, or whether love just means finding someone who will keep meeting you halfway, no matter where you end up. St Martin s Griffin
Blankets ā€“ Craig Thompson
ā€œQuaint, meditative and sometimes dreamy, blankets will take you straight back to your first kiss.ā€ ā€“The Guardian
Blankets is the story of a young man coming of age and finding the confidence to express his creative voice. Craig Thompsonā€™s poignant graphic memoir plays out against the backdrop of a Midwestern winterscape: finely-hewn linework draws together a portrait of small town life, a rigorously fundamentalist Christian childhood, and a lonely, emotionally mixed-up adolescence. Under an engulfing blanket of snow, Craig and Raina fall in love at winter church camp, revealing to one another their struggles with faith and their dreams of escape. Over time though, their personal demons resurface and their relationship falls apart. Itā€™s a universal story, and Thompsonā€™s vibrant brushstrokes and unique page designs make the familiar heartbreaking all over again. This groundbreaking graphic novel, winner of two Eisner and three Harvey Awards, is an eloquent portrait of adolescent yearning; first love (and first heartache); faith in crisis; and the process of moving beyond all of that. Beautifully rendered in pen and ink, Thompson has created a love story that lasts.
from Textbook Case | Bigwords.com http://ift.tt/2AjFC6O via IFTTT
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thephenomenalkid Ā· 8 years ago
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A Year Review 2016
This was a real struggle that greatly challenged my academics, familyā€™s financial matters, relationship with my friends and keeping up with myself.Ā 
January
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010316 ā€“ It was still our holiday break and second-sem was fast approaching. I asked Chu to come over to my place, and spent overnight. We looked like people who are positive in life and my face was like a siopao.
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0101916 ā€“ We were just planning to get some barbeque sa kanto and I canā€™t remember how we ended up at Kuya Jā€™s. Shookt at food prices plus 10% service charge. Haha we did not expect this to happen. Kuya Jā€™s Restaurant is like a fine dining resto that serves pretty normal Filipino cuisine and charged it with very high prices that a typical Filipino family would not prefer it simply because itā€™s not worth it. Personally, I got so disappointed with the three small slices of lechong kawali in a big plate which costs almost equivalent to the price of twice as Jollibeeā€™s C1.
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013116 ā€“ As far as I can remember, my mom and I had a pic together at the Bencab Museum and to this garden. Haha Mama came to Baguio to assist my lipat-bahay action provoked by not-so-good-happenings that happened to me and my boardmates inside the apartment that Iā€™m staying in. Our broken relationships with each other along with our unending misunderstandings made the house itself suffocating for me. I thought I needed to breathe and living in a new environment would be a good choice. It turned out, everyone that I intend to avoid moved out already before me. Everyone left the house, except Chu, Ate Donabel and me, until I finally have to transfer as well.
Living there made me sleep harder. The silence of the house was deafening. I cannot even focus on my studies, I dropped one of my subjects, I was not at my best self, I cannot even think straight. Every bad memory that I had there, every mistake that I made, every people that I hurt haunts me every time I try to get some sleep. If only we could turn back time. I would be good.
Unfortunately, my lipat-bahay-plan was not a success. After a month, realization struck me. I tried to pull myself together and went back again to the boarding house that I left. The silence of the house was still deafening. I was still disorganized but I am trying to find my equilibrium back. I am trying to build again everything that broke inside me. Starting afresh means starting to forgive myself and others. I hope that everyone that I hurt and every people who was involved in the misunderstanding that I started would find forgiveness, too. Most importantly, I hope we all remember our lessons.
February
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030616 - Panagbenga Ending. I used to go to church and go to Burnham Park after to witness the fireworks display of the different institutions in Baguio City for the ending celebration of Panagbenga. Panagbenga is one hell of a season in Baguio, and if you are a resident here, you wonā€™t like it here either. Itā€™s like EDSA except roads are ups and downs and cars are stuck in the middle of the traffic. And, tons of ignorant, selfish tourists from all over the world. If Baguio is a person, she is a real strong woman to bear all these happenings, stress and people brought by this season.
March
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032216 - Ate Micah stayed in Baguio after her graduation for some work. But, during this time she was deciding to left Baguio for a while and be with her family in Bicol. So, for some reason that I cannot remember, we also decided to do this cutest photoshoot. We still the cutest.
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031716 ā€“ ā€œBakit nandito ā€˜to? Akala ko nasa ā€˜yo.ā€ Ā 
April
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042516 ā€“ It was my first time to meet Chuā€™s third older sister, Cherry. I like her. She is more makulit, but kind and adorable, light-hearted and easy to be with. This pic was taken at Amare la Cucina. Sheā€™s a very generous woman I did not expect her being kind with me as if I was a family for her, too. She is a nurse who are currently working in Riyadh, Saudi Arabia. I like her stories about her work abroad and her experiences with the other OFWs. Especially the funny ones where we laughed our hearts out as she reminisces the moments with only a candle giving us light because it was ā€œpakurongā€ at that time in Pangasinan. ā€œPakurongā€ according to them is a special event during election where the authority or whoever is in power cut the electricity down to some selected places in Pangasinan where bribery happens.
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043016 ā€“ Well, given the opportunity that I was in Pangasinan, I met Cali but this time she was a little bit taller than the last time I saw her. She is still adorable and the cutest as she is. We were in Pangasinan because we have no water in Baguio, school year has not yet ended and we still have a pile of laundry. We needed to get rid of it so we do our laundry in Chuā€™s house with lots of unlimited water from the poso system.
May
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051416 ā€“ This was one of my favorite photo of myself taken from Ate Cheā€™s iphone. It was my ā€œlakas maka-celebrity selfie with the wonders of natureā€.
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051416. Yes. After a week, we were back again in Pangasinan. But this time we were in the beautiful beaches of Anda, Pangasinan. This was my favorite photo of us. It seemed like we had our late summer but early vacation. I truly enjoyed this trip and Chuā€™s family gathering. I never felt that I am ā€œsomeone elseā€. Her family and extended family made me feel that I am a family, too and I am grateful for their warm welcoming of me. I enjoyed the place and the company, despite the uncomfortable feeling brought by unfinished acads that I still have to think about when we get back to Baguio.
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051416. I never expected to see my dad whom I thought to be somewhere else in the country other than Pangasinan. It turned out that he was also in there with the people that he is working for. On that day, he suprisingly called me through phone as if he felt that my existence was just near to him. See, the force is strong in our family.
June
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060716. National Museum with Chu. I am truly amazed with the glorious The Spoliarium by Juan Luna. I never expected that it is as huge as that. No wonder why Juan Luna became such a famous and admired person of his time. Of course itā€™s the National Museum, so we roamed around and get to see the fantastic works of other artists and historical figures, pieces of evidence of hardships the Filipinos have had to bear from our colonizers.Ā Ā 
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061316. TKā€™s 19th birthday was a memorable one for the three of us. We were like Disney characters taking an adventure--searching for Love Desserts Restaurant under the scorching UV rays from the sun along Quezon Avenue. It was a very long and stressful walking. Nobody knows where exactly what weā€™re looking for. Until, we found it then. We took a brief break before actually consuming the food.
It is an eat-all-you-can type of Ā restaurant, you have access to all the desserts they could offer, you can even personalized your own icecream or halo halo except that it is time-constrained. If you are a birthday celebrant on the day of your visit, your meal is free except that you need to bring 2 or more friends. The desserts were good, except that I ate more of the bicol express shanghai and nachos instead of the desserts being offered.
The adventure walking that we had before we actually reached the store changed our appetite. We werenā€™t craving for desserts but a heavy meal for our angry stomach. This caused a little dizziness, too.
To my personal judgement of the said restaurant, I think it would be a little more delightful if we have visited the other branch (newer) in Fairview instead. The greatest advice would be, if anyone of you wants to visit the place, better have a car with you.
July
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073016. Ā Instead of taking pictures inside the Female CR of SM Novaliches today, we tried a different ambiance from a fitting room. Lucky we. Itā€™s like we had a mini photoshoot and in a low budget. Lighting of good.
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072616. Today, we shared my momā€™s overly sweet halo-halo. Also, Shau and TK taught me how to properly play the life-changing, friendship wrecker UNO CARDS.
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071416. This was our first try to eat in a Food Park. If I remember it right, we celebrated no particular occasion but merely catching up to each other.
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061716. Ā NOW YOU SEE ME 2. We watched this movie courtesy of Tita Shaula. I can still remember how the magic tricks amazed TK. TK reactions can replace FB Messengerā€™s stickers.
August
It was a busy month because another academic year has started. This was my second to the last semester that I need to take before finishing this undergrad program.Ā 
September
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090416. This was the day before my 20th birthday and this picture is one of the most colorful pictures that we have taken together. This is my favorite picture of us. It was the 2nd month of my 2nd to the last semester in college. Whenever I am with these two, I never felt that I am reaching the adulthood life. Although, we all happily observed that we are becoming mature individuals as the topic of our conversations extend from ourselves to our families and to our nation. We canā€™t deny the fact that we are all growing old and there are tons of responsibilities that await for us.
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090516. I had a very small celebration with my family and I could not be more grateful for everything and every people that I have in my life. Life has been tough but I am blessed with a beautiful, strong and loving family and friends.
October
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092616. It was Chuā€™s 19th birthday and we cannot think of a good birthday gift to her so with the help of our favorite artist we gave her an obra maestra. Haha Her very own face colorfully sketched in a piece of board.
November
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110916. Today, our coolest professor in Philippine Institution 100 (Rizalā€™s Arts and Works) thought of the best project ever in exchange of our supposedly last long and exhaustive essay exam. She would like all the boys in the class to perform a monologue in the character of each and all of the women in Rizalā€™s life. The class was divided into groups so that each of the boys in the class will have and get their own assistance in make-ups, dresses and everything that they need from the girls. As a very supportive group members to our Kuya Matthew Oco (who was chosen to portray Rizalā€™s legal wife Josephine Bracken), we decided to join him on the stage instead of him performing a monologue. I acted as Rizal, Kuya Matthew as Josephine, Gabe as Rizalā€™s sister and Frances Maynel as a priest.
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111216. Uncle Gin is the most fabulous landlord ever. Baguio will fall without him. It has been my honor to know him a little deeper.
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Ā 112116. Adivay. I have completely fallen inlove with the great harmony of the communities in Benguet.
December
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120316. Moana. It was the last week of the semester and Moana was already available in cinemas in Baguio. I canā€™t wait to watch because I believe that itā€™s a beautiful craft and money is gonna worth it.
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120716. Christmas Party. I had fun for the first part of the party. But, I never expected that Ate Wrakle would come. For real. Despite everything that happened, I have no right to not to welcome her in the house. We all valued the house itself, our relationship towards our boardmates, and our relationship with the houseā€™s owner. Itā€™s all our second home. She must have missed all the memories she shared inside with her friends. I wish she did not leave the house sooner. But, I now understand more clearly her needs of silence and privacy at that time.
As usual, I joined UPB communityā€™s PASIKLABAN. It was my last Pasiklaban as an undergrad student.Ā I received a white rose from an APO member who ran naked and participated on their Oblation ritual that hopefully, to symbolize harmony for the next succeeding years of me dealing with people. I enjoyed the night, and all the performances, especially from our professors and instructors. I will surely miss how satisfying it is to end the semester with this kind of celebration. Ā I felt nostalgic, emotional and free as I watched the fireworks display. I cannot believe that I have only one semester left. I felt alone for a minute. I missed my old friends from last four years. It did not turn out well between me and most of them, but I did miss them. I wished that there was a way we could go back in time and just be happy. I wished we could all just forget and forgive.Ā Ā 
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cassidy-malta Ā· 7 years ago
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June 1: Goodbye & Goodnight
Ā Our last trip was bittersweet. We took a weekend in Catania, Sicily and didnā€™t quite have the time to really do all that much, but we did get to explore ruins, shops, and see the military helicopters overhead as the NATO Summit was just forty minutes away. It did, however, feel good to start and end our semester together in Italy. Our first trip was to Rome, our last to Sicily. There was lots of reminiscing to be had!
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(I canā€™t say that I particularly desired to see the local mythical magical elephant, but suddenly I was there and I can confirm that it is probably quite magical)
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(me, completely underwhelmed by some breathtaking statues)
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(my favorite place in Catania was this little nook with cute little bars and ample succulents! Me and my tropical crop-top felt right at home!)
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(say no more, Iā€™m hooked)
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(poor Roman statue has had to carry his arm around in a basket for the last 1000 years. Bummer, dude)
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(probably a saint or something. This place was even more catholic than the Vatican - if I can say that - as there were shops left and right selling rosaries and pastoral robes. I thought about getting my dad one but then I saw the price tag and decided that Iā€™ll get a job instead)
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(art and fun and plants- what more could a girl need? the answer is wine)
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(a little Mary-nook)
ā€œEventually, however, I will have to pack up and go back to the United States. Today in particular I have been pondering what I will bring with me back. Tacky souvenirs, sure, but I will bring back much more valuable intangible souvenirs. I will go back to the United States knowing that through my service learning opportunities, my positive attitude, and participation in university lectures has made Malta a little bit of a better place. I will have gained many new friends both in my Luther peers, my University of Malta peers, and the people I met in every corner of this island. I will be braver, able to conquer new and bigger challenges that I thought possible just a month ago. Hopefully I will be a little smarter and picked up a culinary gift beyond putting a potato in the microwave.
Armed with a newfound confidence and a serious case of the travel bug, the midwest is going to receive a different girl than it sent out into the world. I hope that I never lose the slack jawed-knotted stomach-pounding heart excitement and intrigue I felt on that very first day. I know that I will spend the rest of my life finding those moments and allowing them to chisel and chip away at me; however, despite being chipped away at, I will return bigger, stronger, and with more than I left with.ā€
-Cassidy Woods, February 2017, Initial Malta Reflection
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(look at this scared little college kid trying not to cry as she embarks on the adventure of a lifetime)
Written a mere 114 days ago as a pre-trip reflection, I look back on these two paragraphs and have to stop an absurd little giggle from rising in me. How naive I was! I could pick these two short paragraphs apart sentence by sentence and comment on each aspect, but instead I can sum up all my thoughts in retrospect with the simple sentence: I severely underestimated Malta. The midwest is certainly getting a new woman when my plane lands at four in the afternoon on Saturday. I am a little smarter, a little braver, a little bit more confident, but a helluva lot stronger than I left.
I thought that life at the University of Malta would be parallel to my life at Luther College but I could not have been more wrong. This is the aspect of the culture that was the toughest to navigate. The two hour lectures failed to get my attention and the all-or-nothing final exam is quite possibly the worst thing to ever happen to me. The classmates that I thought would be my new best friends turned out to leave us sitting in the back of the classroom, speak exclusively Maltese, and whisper nearly every time we opened our mouths to contribute. It has given me an insane newfound respect for the international students in America. I was always kind to them, but I had always felt like it was an exclusive group I could not be a part of. Now, however, I know that when youā€™re international, it is damn near impossible to integrate into the local community of students who have infinitely more in common and many years more than I will ever have with them. Iā€™m really hoping I can bring this new experience back to the states and become a more passionate person.Ā 
I also thought that I would walk out of this experience having had the best time of my life with 13 new friends. Unfortunately, that is not totally the case. Consider this myĀ ā€œtell-allā€ blog post. Imagine showing up in a very bizarre foreign land with 13 other people with different upbringings, ideas, opinions, priorities, and motivations for being there. None of us had ever lived in an apartment before and very few of us even knew each other before departing. Mix in a couple miscommunications and a sprinkle of gossip and youā€™ve got a big recipe for disaster. There were days that the group dynamic would cause me to call my mom and dad and literally BEG to come home. A few trips I strategically planned toĀ ā€œget awayā€ from it all. Sometimes, I would make dinner and retreat to my bed for the rest of the night to avoid the others. However, I am not blameless. I admit that I engaged in the pettiness, the back talking, and poor communication. I judged before I knew, and I could be unyielding in my opinion. This has been a semester of growing up. Iā€™ve learned how to take responsibilities for my actions, how to apologize, and also what I will and will not/can and can not tolerate from other people.
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(hereā€™s the entire group the first night we arrived! Each one of these people are special and amazing human beings and we all accomplished something spectacularĀ together, even though we donā€™t all get along)
Itā€™s not all bad though- donā€™t despair! Iā€™m just trying to be realistic and make sure you all know that this semester hasnā€™t been all flowers and rainbows. While Iā€™m not leaving with every one of my classmates as a friend, I am leaving with a few new life-long friends. Maddie, in particular, has been my rock and my partner in crime. Sheā€™s always been down for whatever adventure I have planned or a late night snuggle, wine, RuPaulā€™s Drag Race, and whine night. From roommates who unwillingly ended up living together to best friends, sheā€™s been my most constant support. Maddie isnā€™t the only friend Iā€™ve made- even in these last few weeks Iā€™ve made some new friends- both my classmates and locals.Ā 
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(this goofy girl is one in a million)
The midwest is getting back a lot more than it bargained for when it kissed my forehead and sent me out into the world. I can now plan a trip, manage my money, grocery shop, do basic home repairs, and live incredibly independently - things I never really needed to do before. I can be 100% on my own in massive metropolitan areas (London)Ā and non-english nations (Switzerland). Iā€™ve learned loads about my own mental health and surprised myself by my bravery and fortitude. My culinary skills have developed- dare I say, they blossomed- and now I can cook a potato in the microwave AND season it. Iā€™ve chipped at a bucket list and crossed things off I never even fathomed adding, secured a new identity as a WORLD TRAVELER (omg), and I have been forever changed.Ā 
Recently I had a deep chat with my dad (Mike Woods? Deep chat? SHOCKING!)Ā where we mulled over the Apostle Paul (light conversation in the Pastorā€™s family). According to the book of Acts, in 60 AD, Paul shipwrecked on the little island of Malta on his way to Rome for trial.Ā There is no archeological evidence that Paul was ever here. That being said, I think there is something beautiful and admirable about these island people taking an unconfirmed myth and running with it- integrating it into their entire cultural identity.Ā 
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(the biggest feast/holiday of the year in Malta is the Feast of Saint Paulā€™s Shipwreck- we stumbled upon it our first time in Valletta back in February)
In Acts, Paul writes: ā€œAfter we were brought safely through, we then learned that the island was called Malta. The native people showed us unusual kindness, for they kindled a fire and welcomed us all, because it had begun to rain and was cold.ā€ (Acts 28: 1-2, ESV)
Paul was shocked by the natives ā€œunusual kindnessā€- something I have experienced. They trusted him and took him and the other shipwreck survivors under their wings- a remarkable display of compassion and love from a nation that is repeatedly colonised and taken over for strategic gain. Essentially Paul was a refugee and they took him in without fear of attack - something that we can all learn from.Ā I'm a resident, not a tourist or a local. A weird liminitive state between belonging and not. I get to witness and experience both sides of the relationship. The Maltese welcome and display excellent hospitality to the tourist. The tourists, in turn, are eager and excited to learn more about Malta.Ā 
I've been taken in and experienced the same hospitality that Paul experienced. In return, I've tried to honour their culture and respect this crazy little island- living my time here to the fullest. Forever an optimist, Paul vouches that we should engage in,Ā ā€œfilling your minds and meditating on things true, noble, reputable, authentic, compelling, graciousā€”the best, not the worst; the beautiful, not the ugly; things to praise, not things to curse. Put into practice what you learned from me, what you heard and saw and realizedā€ (Philippians 4:8-9 MSG). As I look back on this trip, I am going to focus on the moments that were true, noble, reputable, authentic, compelling, gracious. The best and not the worst. The beautiful and not the ugly.Ā 
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(saying goodbye toĀ ā€œTriq Depiroā€ - the road weā€™ve called home)
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(and saying goodbye to the flat with the red door... heartbreaking stuff, here)
So thatā€™s it. Iā€™m wrapping up this adventure and this blog. Iā€™ve spent the last week in a frantic head spin of unpacking from Sicily, and beginning the process of packing my bags to go home. Iā€™ve taken two finals, written two final research essays, and a handful of reflections. I also know that I am going to be fighting jet lag and stress as I leave Malta on Saturday morning at 6:30AM and arrive in Minneapolis at 4:00PM (Iā€™ve given up on trying to understand how this works). This summer I am interning at Sparkhouse Publishing in Minneapolis, living with my generous Aunt and Uncle in Shoreview- which I move into Sunday afternoon and have my first day of work on Monday. I canā€™t believe that Sunday morning Iā€™ll be waking up in my own bed, to my puppyā€™s frantic wiggles, to go to church with my mom to hear my dad preach and see my congregation again (shameless plug to encourage EVERYONE to come see me at Prince of Peace on Sunday morning in La Crescent, MN during service!). I want to send a special thank-you out to the massive list of people who have been following this blog, my special email subscribers, my parents, professors, friends back home, and Luther family. See you all SO SOON.Ā 
Onto the next adventure!Ā 
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