#how many hours did I have yesterday to plan my lesson? literally all of them

[betterhomesandhozie]

in a hell of my own creation lol

[blahandwhatever]

So I thought I'd spend the last few days of November getting as much low-paying work done as I could, but my mind was so split by indecision about which tasks were most worth doing - truly, none of them were - that I barely did anything. Had a ton of microtasks available from Appen (not generative AI stuff, but the company seems to like to market itself around that because it's trendy [also, "Clients include eight of the top ten largest technology companies" but they pay like shit because whatever amount of success they have is likely based on the business model of "we can provide this service cheaper than anyone else" a.k.a. worker exploitation, which is just so depressingly prevalent]), but they were all such a combination of low-paying and tedious that the idea of filling a whole hour - much less the multiple hours required to make a sum of any significance - with god knows how many of them was simply inconceivable. I've never been able to do the microtasks on MTurk, either. Some people can do this stuff in a focused and sustained enough way that they can make some legit low-wage job earnings, but I am so overwhelmed by both the tedium and the sense of interminability that it is literal mental torture, and I'd rather make half as much per hour just doing some surveys.

Meanwhile, the low-paying real job I thought I'd be starting this week got delayed by some onboarding processes and issues, and the reviewing of an assessment for another job (also low-paying but not as badly) got delayed by Thanksgiving, but I did finally get the job, so there's that. Still keeping my eye on higher-paying jobs to apply for, but my motivation to actually work on applications is very limited. One of the big lessons I've learned from my latest miserably protracted job search experience is that I have to apply to both high-paying and low-paying jobs to some extent, like, from the beginning. For a long time, I was avoiding lower-paying jobs altogether because, like, why would I downgrade. But I had no idea how insanely long it would once again take to get a better one - and in the meantime, I still needed to make some fucking money. So I finally caved and applied for some lower-paying ones recently. And they are easier to get. And I resent them for their pay but need to take whatever I can get for now. In the end, it's not that much of a commitment if the jobs are flexible, and it adds at least passable security while I continue to look for something better.

I've also been drained of getting-stuff-done time and energy by Sleepiness again, which I've allowed myself to indulge most days, though I have to put some kind of limit on how late I get up - plus one day I had to go to Naperville to help with the dog because my father was gone and my mother was working a long shift, and yesterday I wanted to go for a walk before sunset, which I just barely managed. Each day I tend to feel a little better, and I might have like a four-hour window for which I feel legitimately motivated and energized, and then I seriously overestimate how productive a day I'm going to have, not knowing how I will crash again. My plans never ever account for the power or possibility of The Sleepiness.

I'm forever behind on chores like always, but I push myself to do At Least Something each day. Today I washed my sheets, remade my bed, and added the extra comforter layer I add for winter - which then led to sorting through the latest clothes pile disrupted by the bed-making, which then led to doing a bit of organizing in my closets because it would otherwise be impossible to place my freshly folded clothes in there without simply allowing it all to dissolve into anarchy and throwing them onto the Pile that had developed in there too. Of all chores, the Pile of Clothes is the one whose dread never exaggerates the reality. It truly takes forever to go through and organize the hundred fucking things that manage to accumulate on my bed somehow. So, I guess I can feel pretty accomplished.

[jacks-tracks]

New Year 2023

2023? How did that happen? Time really does slip away when i am aimless and drifting in Mexico. Not that i don't have a routine. Taking this morning as an example, up at 7, tea and grapefruit after a brush up, say Hi to the cheerful maid sweeping the palm fronds and fig leaves off the patio. Yesterday it was a centipede of sorts, third one, and here they have 40 legs. She spots them, a lifetime of training in venomous critters. She has been bitten and reports that the sting is minor, but that 4 hours later the site becomes swollen and extremely painful, in her case her arm swoll up and the pain crept to her shoulder and neck for hours. There is a treatment, injected antihistimines and steroids, but of course that costs money so people just tough it out. The scorpions are still coming, 6 so far, but only one made it into the room. Seems that the tiny golden ones are the most poisonous, potentially fatal. It was a golden one what made it past the door screen. Squish! Stinger up!

All that in Spanish, which i am comprehending better with daily lessons and practise. Still not thinking in Spanish, but I can prepare a sentence better. However, the Spanish the staff use with me is not the Spanish used locally, and kind of fast slurred dialect, Costeno. Incomprehensible. Just as our English chatter would be muddy to others.

Time for a beach walk before the heat rises. It is 22 degrees in the morning with the overnight breezes off the mountains, and I sometimes wear a jacket first thing, but by the time I go to the beach it's much warmer, like 25. A stroll down Calle Bueno Noche(good night street literally, but translate as Christmas Eve street), past the local dogs who all know me now, and across Calle Morro onto the sunny sands. This year the beach was sculpted by the hurricane waves into a series of shelves 100 meters apart, low enough that the high tide waves roll over the first step. The actual shore edge is steep, falling 10 feet into the shore break. In the past it was possible to skitter along the wave edge on the firm sand between waves and relatively flat. Now it's far too steep to be comfortable, so people slog along on the loose sand at the crest. I wear my Teva sandals like snowshoes to keep from sinking in the soft golden sand. Those old Tevas, glued and resewn many times, just don,t wear out, Vibram soles.and good velcro. Thousands of miles and a dozen countrys, still plodding along.

The beach is a favorite morning walk for gringoes, dozens trekking from La Punta to Zicatela and back. More Mexicans are getting on the fitness plan, walking the beach and filling the gymnasiums. There are lots of dogs, mostly domestic, some very friendly, but usually they are far more interested in the other mutts. OK they are not all mutts. An odd lot of purebreds, like dalmations, Huskys, German shepards, real chihuahuas like clockwork toys, meet an a broad mix of cross breeds. the dominant type varies over time depending on whose dog got loose. Lately it's Labrador crosses, replacing the golden lop eared long legged variety. While there are some standoffs, mostly it's sniff and posture followed by a romp. Some people carry sticks, but that seems to trigger aggression, or perhaps those dogs can sense their fear

It gets hot(28) quickly once the sun rises over the hills to the east, so I dodge into a stand of native trees where there is a palm log bench in mixed shade. Here i usually supplement my beach plastic trash pickup with litter, all aimed at the recycling bag back at Casa Dans.Beach litter has declined sharply after the Holiday season, and it's because the locals can pay off land taxes by doing mass litter pickups, up to 20people in a line desultoraly loading plastic into bags. Regretably that trash gets dropped in the town dump for later burning, but not before the dump ladies rip open the bags searching for aluminum cans or useable items

Return trip after 1 half hour outward is along Calle Morro, the beach front street. Interesting to see how many new tourist accomodation buildings are under construction,though often the building stops for unknown reasons Usually there a rush of foundation placing, rebar stacking and chain gangs of sweaty labourers mixing cement on the road, scooping it into buckets, and packing them on their shoulders up onto the walls to dump into the forms. Having tied up rebar for second floors, work often stops, and I wonder if it's financial,or if there are some rules around building permits requiring a certain accomplishment in a time frame. Certainly if all the many projects get finished, there will be a superfluity of rooms. Rumours have it that La Punta stopped new building after as similar rush. mind you they also have a no noise bylaw after 11pm, and a kids first rule on the now crowded surf beach.

The uphill trek back to mi casa can be done via several sets of stairs in various stages of concrete collapse. This means short backstreets guarded by dogs, most of whom i have either made friends with or fended off with rocks. There is one place halfway up the hill where 2 loud mutts bark furiously from behind a fence, perro bravos. That's where I pause for a breathe on the stairs, and chat with them, driving them to new heights of rage. Pretty soon the house owner comes out and yells at them to shut up and they slinkoff satisfied with their bravado.

The municipality made a lookout bench under a sort of cement bus top and that's a very good place to pause and scan the seas horizon for whales, fishboats, or the occasional tanker. Here there is a wide view of the beach, and the last beach hikers being replaced by sun worshippers and surfer watchers., Then it's home up one more hill to finally arrive sweating and happy at my shady cabana.

I believe walking is both healthy for the body and sort of restful for the mind. My goal is to see something new everytime and hopefully connect with the beauty, aiming for harmony.

[duckprintspress]

How can I write quickly?

I (hi, I’m @unforth) have been asked frequently over the years how I write a lot quickly. I’m a pretty fast writer - for example, I wrote the 5600 words of my May Trope Mayhem fill from yesterday in under 2.5 hours. 

First, a little of my personal history for context. I’ve always written, starting from when I was able to string letters into (very poorly spelled) words and (horrible un-grammatical) sentences. When I started trying my hand at serious, professional-level fiction writing, I joined a community called novel_in_90, which was founded by the author Elizabeth Bear. The purpose of novel_in_90 was “to be NaNoWriMo but more realistic.” Instead of 50,000 words in 31 days, it was 67,500 words in 90 days, or 750 words a day. I participated in multiple rounds of novel_in_90 starting in mid-2005, and in 2007 I completed my first (godawful) novel. When I started, even writing a couple hundred words of day took me forever, but it got easier with time. 

During those same years, I also got a job that required I do professional writing on a deadline: I was a grant writer, and I only got paid when the grants won. That often meant working fast under high pressure, culminating in the weekend I wrote and edited an entire 40 pages grant that was due on Monday. I think, if I hadn’t had a solid foundation of “regular daily plodding writing,” I’d not have been able to marathon when the moment came...and it came because I had to, not because I wanted to. However, I learned a valuable lesson: I could. Subsequently, I found that, when I had the time and space and was rested enough to use my brain, I could bust out a huge amount. Like, I wrote an entire 150,000 word novel in 17 days.

My personal record is about 200,000 words in one month (it was the month I wrote that novel; I wasn’t tracking when I did that so I don’t know exactly), 25,000 words in a day, and I’ve topped out around 3,000 words an hour. I do know people who can do more...but not many.

Not everyone will be able to do this. Flat out, I MUST preface the rest of this post by saying that. Some people will find that writing fast fits their brain, and for others, it just won’t, and that’s okay. Fast doesn’t equal better, and it isn’t inherently “good” to write fast. Furthermore, even for those who can write fast, not everyone will find the same strategies helpful. I can share what works for me. Try out one item, some items, or all of these - if writing faster is something you want to be able to do, which it certainly never has to be. Use what works for you, and discard the rest.

Sit in your chair, put your fingers on your keyboard or touch screen, and write. You can’t write 1,000 words in half an hour until you write one word, however long that one word takes. I know saying this is obvious, but I’ve been asked “how can I write fast” by people who struggle to write at all...fast can’t be your priority until you’ve got a foundation of just writing. (Honestly...fast should never be your priority, but it might be helpful to you regardless, which can make it worth learning.)

Start small. Set an achievable goal, and make yourself meet that goal (daily, weekly, whatever) come hell or high water, no matter how long it takes you. Keep the goal small at first; you’re not trying to torture yourself, you’re trying to build a skill. If you set the goal high enough that you consistently fail, you’re not teaching yourself anything. And, if you find the goal IS too high...lower it. There’s no shame in working within your limits. Think of it like starting a new work out regimen: you wouldn’t try to run a 10k at a record time if you can’t run a mile slow. Treat your fingers and your brain the same way you’d treat your legs and joints. Give them time to grow, learn, and improve before you try to push yourself.

Trying to write daily is worthwhile if you want to work on your writing speed, because you’ll be forced to try to fit it in as you’re able - that might be ten minutes in your morning, or an hour in your evening, and it might vary from day to day, but making it daily means you have to fit it in somewhere.

Building skills takes time and isn’t easy. For some people, it will come easier than for others, and even when you’re fast, going from “I can write words fast” to “I can write damn good words fast” takes practice and dedication and accepting constructive criticism - speed alone will never be worth more than writing well.

Having a community can help. Ya’ll will check in on each other, cheer each other on, remind each other that missing a day or a goal isn’t the end of the world, and keep each other’s spirits up. If you don’t know other writerly folks online, I recommend Weekend Writing Marathon ( @weekendwritingmarathon ) as a good place to start (I used to be a mod there). Once you’re trying to work up to larger word counts in a day, remember that even writing fast will take minutes or hours. You can’t write 2,500 words in an hour if you don’t set an hour aside. Make sure you’re giving yourself the room and time you need to succeed.

You will probably never be able to do high, rapid word counts every day, every week, every month. The best runners in the world don’t run marathons every day. Set realistic long term goals.

Work on projects where you have a clear idea of where you’re going. I’m not saying “pantsers” can’t write fast, because of course they can, but if you want to write fast, and well, and coherently, to create a first draft that’s in pretty good shape, you’ll do better if you have a good sense of what you’re trying to accomplish with your story. That doesn’t mean you need to do all your world building up front, or have a complete outline (I never have either). All you really need is what happens next. I tend to plan projects - and write them - one full scene at a time, with only a vague idea what’s going to come after. (I’m personally a “plantser,” and the strategies in this post will likely be most effective to other plantsers.)

Visualize ahead of time what you’d like to write...but don’t get too attached to what you visualize. When I go to bed, I plan the next scene I’m going to compose, often to the least detail. I then forget all of it overnight, at least all the specifics, and I’m left with a general sense and shape of what’s to come. You’ll never be able to replicate the “perfect” dialog you pre-conceive, so give up on trying to. Instead, play through the scene and think about the emotional beats you want to hit and plot points you want to forward. If you keep that in mind, you’ll be able to get the words out faster than if you’re agonizing over every word or regretting the “oh-so-great” idea that you’ve since forgotten. 

Practice different work styles. If writing every day doesn’t work for you, try instead saying, “this is my writing day each week,” and aim for a lot that specific day, and write little or nothing other days. Try writing at different times of day and on different days, fitting it into your schedule. If you’re beating yourself up for not writing when you “should,” it’ll be that much harder to succeed, so instead, as I said for point 2 - set a reasonable goal that fits your life and working style, fitting it around your other responsibilities, and push yourself within that framework, instead of trying to shoehorn into a style that you “think you should” use to succeed. 

Track your word counts, and take notes on how much you did and what project you were working on. If you’re also experimenting with different times of day and different days, make sure you note that too. I personally use a simple Excel sheet (well, Google Sheets, now) - column one is the date, column 2 is “starting word count,” column 3 is “ending word count,” column 4 is “=column 3 - column 2”, column 5 is notes. Pay attention to when you succeed at writing faster, and when you don’t, and consider what factors might have played into your success...and then try to replicate those factors next time you’re doing a sprint. Control as many variables as you can while you’re “training.”

If you find social media distracting, trying getting a web browser extension that prevents you from connecting to websites for a set period of time.

If you find you tend to dither before starting, I find it helpful to run through everything that I might do to procrastinate (check my social media! grab a snack! make some tea! set up my playlist! check my social media again! finish making the tea! check my social media for what I swear will be the last time!), and when I’m done, it’s like, well, I’ve done all those things, I’ve got no choice left, time to write, no excuses left.

If you find you struggle with picking up a WIP, try leaving off in the middle of a sentence at the end of a session, one where you know exactly how it ends - or, leave off mid-paragraph, or when you are positive you know what happens next (and I mean literally next, as in the very next sentence.) It’s much easier to “pick back up” when your first words are super clear. (Do not do this if you think there’s any chance you’ll forget or end up in a situation where you won’t return to your WIP for months!) 

If you find you struggle to maintain continuity across multiple writing sessions, try rereading what you wrote the previous day before you proceed. Resist the urge to edit it!

Avoid stopping when you get stuck, even to do research. Don’t know a fact? Add a comment to your manuscript flagging the relevant text, “LOOK THIS UP LATER.” Can’t think of a word? Put in something you can use the “find” function on easily (I personally use “XX” since there are no words that have a double x in them) and so you can come back later, search for your chosen placeholder, and fill in the blanks. Not sure how a scene ends but know the next scene? Jump ahead.

That said, if you really don’t know what happens next, you don’t do yourself any favors by pressing on. As I’ve said previously, speed alone should never be your writing object. It’s better to slow down, consider your plot, figure out where you’re going, and then write, than to just plow ahead - or at least, that’s better if you want a manuscript you’ll actually be able to use for something at a later point. If you’re truly just practicing, you can also say “screw it, who needs coherence?” and keep going. I’d personally never have finished my first novel if I’d spent a lot of time worrying about making the pieces fit together and yeah, it’s a mess, but it’s a mess I wrote instead of a mess I got stuck on and never completed.

Don’t move the finish line. If you’ve set the goal of 500 words a day, don’t beat yourself up if you get 550 because you think you think you could have done more. If you say you’ll write five days a week, don’t get mad because you DID have time the sixth day but chose to use it on something else. If you make yourself feel like shit when you succeed, what’ll happen when you fail? And when you’re comfortable and really think you’re ready, change the goal - reassess every month, say, and up your goals. While working for speed, trying upping your word count goal without changing the amount of time you allot for working.

Your need to adhere to the above suggestions will change over time. Once, I always had an outline; now I often don’t need one. Once, I wouldn’t let myself stop even to use a thesaurus; now, I find I can look up words without breaking my flow or significantly slowing myself down. This is not an “all or nothing” prospect, nor is it a “do things the same way forever once you’ve found one (1) thing that works” prospect - you’ll experiment, and find strategies that work for you, and then at some point, your needs will change, and you’ll experiment more, and find new strategies that work for you, on and on, as your skills grow. 

To reiterate: writing fast should never be your objective in and of itself! Greater writing speed will come with practice and as a general side effect of improving your craft. Simply being able to write fast is useless; being able to write fast and well will enable you to get more of your ideas out there, so if that’s something you’d like to accomplish, focus on building your general skills and training yourself to be able to use those skills rapidly and in tandem with each other to produce decent writing, in a first draft, at a decent speed.

Once you try, you may find none of this works for you! That’s okay. That’s good! You tried, which means you learned something about yourself and your own writing style, and that too will help you to improve. Keep experimenting, keep learning, and find what does work for you - and accept that no two writers will ever be the same, and one of those differences will be writing speed. Some writers will never write fast, and that’s doesn’t make them any less awesome or valid. And some writers will always write fast, and that doesn’t make them inherently awesome or valid. Only with a suite of skills that suit your individual life, personality, work style, writing capabilities, goals, etc., will you succeed as a writer (for various, personalized definitions of the word “success”); speed is only one of those potential skills, and not one that’s particularly important in my opinion...yet I still get asked about it fairly often, so here we are, these are my suggestions

Go forth, and write some words! <3

[archived-kin]

solomon deserves a husband so i'm giving him one (it's you)

note from kin: i don’t know HOW i’ve managed to get this out so soon after my last piece but i do know that it is a miracle (now watch me disappear for like a month lmao)

anyway there’s a severe lack of content for the boys in this fandom and therefore i am here to try to mitigate that!!

(as a heads up, this is sort of an au version of obey me’s story?? there’s no exchange program, and the general human world doesn’t know about the devildom or celestial realm, apart from sorcerers and similar special cases. solomon and simeon both still visit the devildom, though - solomon because he has a sort of job at the r.a.d., and simeon as an ambassador sort of thing for the celestial realm. the r.a.d.’s also less of a school and more of an organisation?? i haven’t really fleshed it out haha)

fandom: obey me!

character(s): male! reader, solomon, mammon (briefly), simeon (briefly)

pairing(s): solomon/reader

warning(s): blasphemy??? solomon disses god really briefly and that’s about it

genre: fluff!!!!!!!!!

As a general rule of thumb, Solomon doesn’t believe in destiny.

He’s lived long enough to know that, no matter what he does, the universe does not care about him, much less have some sort of plan for his future. The course that the world takes isn’t affected by some grand puppet master pulling the strings; one has to force the so-called path of fate in the direction they want it to take if they want something. Solomon knows this better than anyone.

It’s as much a downfall as it is a strength - as much as power as he’s amassed over the countless years, his constant need to challenge the universe’s power has lead him down a path far from humanity. There had been a time when he was like every other human on the Earth, when he was still young, full of hope and determination and promise, believing earnestly in some God high in the sky who would guide him through his life.

He shudders to think what sort of insufferable fool he’d been back then. An almighty God? Don’t make him laugh. The ruler of the Celestial Realm is incompetent at best, and a downright childish brat at worst. He doesn’t know how the angels put up with him - though he supposes his realm-smiting power is part of it. Why the universe chose to place such power on such a being’s shoulders will always be beyond him.

Long as it has been since he had been so naive, Solomon has learnt his lesson, to say the least. He’s seen people come and go, witnessed kings and queens reign and fall, watched on as friends and family live and die. It’s a truth that he’s been forced to learn across the years of his long, long life, a curse that he brought upon himself the moment he gave up the purity of his soul in pursuit of magical arts. 

He supposes he’s always had an insatiable thirst for the unknown - to play all his cards out front, to tempt fate’s hand, to jump into the void and hope to find ground beneath his feet when he lands. It’s that sort of reckless abandon and hunt for knowledge that has led him so far down this path, through so many years, across so many sleepless nights. The world continues to swirl around him, always changing, but Solomon refuses to be swept away. Because, even in the tumultuous movement of the universe, there has always been one constant that keeps him anchored - you.

The night he'd first met you isn’t as clear in his mind as he would have liked. He wants to be able to remember everything - the way the soft blue light of the will-o’-whisps had lit up your eyes in the dark of the night, the way that your hand had felt in his as you greeted him with a handshake, the way that you had said his name for the first time - in sharp detail, but Solomon knows better than to hope to recall something so long ago so perfectly.

He’d still been relatively new to a sorcerer’s life at the time - excited and determined and a little too full of himself. You… well, he doesn’t remember exactly, but he does remember thinking that you must be the most handsome being to exist. The you of today would probably shake your head and dismiss the past you as an obnoxious high hoper, but Solomon has loved you for so many years that he’s never been able to think of you as anything less than perfect.

There are times when he wondered how he managed to stumble upon such luck. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that Solomon has has had truly insufferable periods over the years he’s known you, and he’s always considered it a miracle that you still chose to stay. Even through all the restless nights and the exhausting trips, even after all of the clashes and vexation, you have refused to give up on him.

He had asked you once, in the aftermath of an argument spurred by his inability to confide in you and your own frustration with his refusal to communicate. He remembers that night so vividly that it might well have happened just yesterday - the frustrated shouts, the shattering of glass, the warmth of your arms around his shoulders as he finally collapsed on himself. He doesn’t know what your face had looked like as he stuttered the question out in stuttering breaths, head buried in your shoulder in an effort to conceal his tears, but he imagines that it had been soft.

“I’m not going to leave you to yourself,” You had told him matter-of-factly, stroking his hair with such fondness  that it still sometimes brings a tear to his eye when he remembers it on particularly long nights. “And I’m not giving up on you, either - not now, not ever.”

Solomon had been unable to speak, too choked up by his feelings and the sudden, overwhelming love spreading through his entire body to reply. He’d only sunk deeper into your embrace, wishing that the moment could last forever.

I wonder if he still remembers that…?

“...lomon! Anyone home?!”

He jolts up from the table he’s sitting at so abruptly that he nearly knocks his head right into Mammon’s chin. The Avater of Greed, however, reacts quickly, and hops back before Solomon can break his jawbone.

“Jeez, you’re off on a different planet today,” He comments, setting his hands on his hips as Solomon shoots him the sort of look that tells him that he’s not particularly enthused about his presence at the moment. “What’s up with ya?”

Solomon isn’t quite sure how to answer. Sorry, I got distracted thinking about how perfect and lovely my husband is and how I’m the luckiest man in the entire world - nay, the universe - to have him. He nearly physically shudders at the thought of how much teasing he’d receive if he answered like that.

Instead, he chooses a much safer and still technically true option. “Just thinking about going home today.”

Mammon nods in understanding, pulling up a seat next to him and throwing himself down into it without much grace. “I feel ya. S’ been a long day.”

“You’ve barely done anything today,” Solomon quips flatly, not particularly impressed by the demon’s attempt at… empathy? Relatability? Either way, it isn’t working. “I doubt it’s been that hard.”

“Now, now, Solomon, let’s not be rude,” interjects a soft voice from behind them. Simeon is still dressed in his fancy envoy cloak - the one so long and heavy that it trails along behind him like a bridal train, decorated with a number of elaborate golden charms that jingle as he moves.

Solomon attempts to shoot him a slightly annoyed look, but it’s kind of hard to stay irritated by one of the literal embodiments of holiness and light, even if he wakes you up at very unholy hours of the morning to help him figure out how to answer an email. Solomon isn’t ungrateful for the new age of technology descending on humanity, but he’d like it a lot better if it hadn’t somehow reached the angels as well. The amount of times he’s had to tell Simeon that he needs to actually turn his D.D.D. on before he starts calling someone is… embarrassing, to say the least.

“You’re back in the Devildom, I see,” He observes as the angel pulls up a seat and sits beside him. “Did Michael send you down again?”

Simeon nods with a smile. “There were some arrangements that needed to be made with Lord Diavolo. Naturally, I volunteered.”

“Naturally,” Solomon echoes, raising a brow at his friend. “I don’t suppose your biases had anything to do with your decision?”

“Well, they may have had some effect,” Simeon answers with a shameless smile and shrug, beginning to undo the tassels of his heavy cloak and draping it on the back of chair he’s sitting on. He’s still wearing all of his regular clothes underneath it - including the other, much smaller cloak. Solomon wonders how he hasn’t somehow melted in the heat.

“When’re you gonna start heading home, anyway?” Mammon asks, beginning to pick at a loose thread on his jacket sleeve. “It’s gettin’ late.”

Solomon blinks and looks up at the clock. “...ah, you’re right. In that case, I'll get going now.”

Mammon shoots him an odd look as he pushes himself up from the table and reaches for his bag, managing to hoist it onto his shoulder with some effort. He’s never been particularly good at heavy lifting - you’re usually the one helping him carry everything around the house.

“Oi, oi, what’s the rush?” the demon asks as Solomon adjusts the weight of his bag and starts heading for the door. “You on a timer or something?”

“I promised [Name] I’d be home earlier tonight,” is Solomon’s slightly absent-minded reply as he fiddles about in his pocket to find his transportation charm, nearly losing his balance and dropping his bag in the process. “I’ll see you both tomorrow.”

Mammon watches him in clear confusion for a moment as he pats down his pockets, mumbling a quiet curse under his breath as he realises that he’s left his charm at home again. How many times this month does that make it now...? He supposes that he could always perform a teleportation spell, but knowing his luck with those, he’ll probably end up somewhere in Morocco again.

“Oi, Simeon,” Mammon hisses to the angel, who cocks his head slightly to the side and leans over so as to hear him more clearly. “Who’s this ‘[Name]’ Solomon’s talkin’ about?”

“You don’t know?” Simeon blinks at him in blatant perplexion - as if he can’t even fathom the idea that Mammon might not know who Solomon’s talking about. “He’s talking about his husband.”

There’s a long moment of silence. Then—

“Solomon has a HUSBAND!?” Mammon practically shrieks, completely flabbergasted. “I thought he was totally, like, the forever alone type!”

“Don’t tell me you’ve never noticed?” is Simeon’s bewildered response. “Who do you think Solomon is always talking about buying groceries for?”

“I thought he was just buyin’ them for himself!” Mammon fires back, looking far more ruffled and shocked than he probably should be. He whips around to look at Solomon, who’s flicking through the little packet of blank charms he keeps on him at all times in an effort to find the right one to create a temporary transportation charm. He’s had to do it so many times this month that he’s already beginning to run out. “You’re married?!”

“Of course,” Solomon answers vaguely, briefly raising his left hand, allowing Mammon to spot the soft glint of a ring around his fourth finger. “You’re not?”

“Wh— ‘course I’m not!” Mammon exclaims, positively scandalised by the very concept. “Why would I get married, huh?! It’s a waste of time and a waste of money!”

“Think whatever you like,” Solomon dismisses him easily, which only seems to irritate Mammon further.

Finally having found the right blank charm, he plucks it out and begins carefully tracing patterns onto it with a single glowing finger. He’s dimly aware of Mammon furiously whispering to Simeon in the background, with the angel responding in kind, most likely sharing some exaggerated story from back when the three of you had worked together - when Solomon had accepted a job from the Celestial Realm. The details of the whole thing are a little fuzzy to him now, long as it has been, but he’s almost completely sure that Simeon somehow still remembers the whole thing flawlessly.

“How old even is he?!” He hears Mammon hiss.

“I’m not so sure myself,” Simeon replies, placing his chin in a thoughtful hand. “Let’s see… their two millennial anniversary’s coming up in about two years, and I remember Solomon saying that they got married when he was around two hundred or so… which means he’s about twenty-one hundred years old.”

“Holy shit,” Mammon mutters in disbelief, turning glance at the sorcerer as he starts folding down the corners of his charm into the right shape. “Humans aren’t supposed to live that long. How’s his husband still alive, then?”

“That isn’t really a question for me to answer,” Simeon shakes his head slightly. “I suppose you can always ask him yourself if Solomon ever brings him to work with him.”

“I doubt it,” Solomon speaks up for the first time since announcing his departure. “He’s usually busy during the day. Besides, transportation charms make him queasy, and I’m not making him walk all the way down here.”

“Aren’t you a wizard?” Mammon asks, scratching his head. “Just do one of ya fancy teleportation spells. Why d’you need a charm?”

Solomon sighs. He hates to admit it, but he can’t be bothered to make up some other reason to cover up for himself. “I’m afraid that teleportation spells aren’t actually particularly accurate. We could end up somewhere in the Pacific if I’m not careful.”

Mammon looks thunderstruck. “Then what about all those times you’ve teleported us?! Don’t tell me we coulda ended up in, like, the Archaic Pit or something?!”

“Well, it was always a possibility,” Solomon shrugs in reply, finishing the charm with a deft flick of his hand. “You’re a demon, I sure you could have handled yourself.”

“But…!” Mammon crosses his arms and turns away like a grumpy child. “Hmph…”

“Do say hello to [Name] for me, will you?” Simeon requests as Solomon turns to open the door, ignoring the sulking demon sitting beside him. ���We haven’t been able to talk for a while.”

“You text him every day, don’t you?” Solomon asks, shooting him an unimpressed look. “I’d say that’s conversation enough.”

“Now, now, there’s no need to be stingy,” Simeon countered with a smile, tilting his head slightly to the side and leaning forward. “Besides, one misses the presence of an actual person after a while of nothing but electronic communication... especially texting is so difficult. Tell him he’s always welcome to come around for some tea - Luke would be happy to see him.”

Solomon shakes his head, but makes a sound of affirmation nevertheless. You had mentioned that you’ve missed seeing Simeon since he’d started the whole negotiator businesss, and he isn’t the sort of person to deny you the company of a friend. “I’ll let him know. Anyway, I should really be going now…”

“Have a safe journey!” Simeon calls after him as he swings the door open and sweeps out. Solomon waves a hand over his shoulder in response, then disappears down the corridor, most likely to a quiet spot in the courtyard to use his charm. He’s been banned from using them indoors ever since he accidentally shattered one of the fancy artifacts in the assembly hall and sent hundreds of shards flying everywhere. Apparently Barbatos is still finding tiny pieces of glass in the crevices of the floor.

“Why didn’t Solomon ever say anythin’?” Mammon asks Simeon after a moment of quietude. “Seems like the sorta thing you’d mention.”

“Solomon’s a private man,” Simeon says with a shrug. “Besides, he and [Name] have made plenty of enemies over the years, and you’d be shocked by how quickly names and locations can spread…”

“Does he mind us knowin’ about it, then?”

“Well, personally, I’ve known for a while,” Simeon answers, “And I’m sure the others will have worked it out by now - Solomon’s always finding ways to mention [Name] in passing. But no, I’m sure he doesn’t mind. He’d say something if he did.”

Mammon nods and goes silent for a little while. Then he asks, “What’s this [Name] like, then? Must be some guy if Solomon liked him enough to put a ring on him and keep him for that long.”

“Well, let’s see…” Simeon drums his fingers thoughtfully against the tabletop. “He has quite the penchant for raising deadly plants, he hasn’t gone more than a full month without exploding something or another for about five centuries, he takes clocks apart in his spare time, he likes his coffee with a touch of vanilla, he collects cursed books, he makes a lovely butterscotch-cinnamon pie, and he works as a curse breaker for hire.”

It takes a moment for Mammon to process all of the information that’s just been dumped on him. “...sounds like the kinda guy Satan would get along with.”

“I thought so as well,” Simeon agrees. “Their house even reminds me of Satan’s room, in a way… [Name] is quite the avid reader.”

“What, you’ve been?”

“Only once,” Simeon’s eyes flutter closed for a moment as he reminisces. “Quite a long time ago now. I wouldn’t know where to find it even if I wanted to go again, though - it’s always moving.”

“Do they move house a lot, then?”

Simeon shakes his head. “Oh, no, no. They’ve lived in the same house for centuries - it’s the house that moves itself.”

Mammon pauses. “...what?”

“The building,” Simeon clarifies. “They’ve got an enchantment on the whole thing that makes it change locations every couple of weeks or so.”

“But… why?”

Simeon shrugs. “[Name] doesn’t like staying in one place for too long.”

“Still, isn’t that a bit much…?” Mammon pulls a face. “They could always just travel, ya know…”

“As Solomon said, transportation talismans make [Name] feel queasy,” Simeon explains. “And he prefers not to use teleportation spells when it comes to him, just in case they end up somewhere dangerous.”

“And he doesn’t care about the rest of us ending up somewhere dangerous?” Mammon huffs and collapses forwards onto the table.

“Well, you can’t really compare the two,” Simeon says patiently as the demon continues to mutter indignantly under his breath. “He’s his husband, and we’re essentially just his friends from work.”

Mammon opens his mouth to make a rebuttal, then thinks about it for a moment and changes his mind. After a moment, he comments, a little less resentfully, “Well, you’d think he’d at least introduce us.”

“He’s been planning to for a while, actually,” Simeon tells him. “Give him some time and he’ll probably bring it up on his own.”

Mammon nods. “He’d better!”

“I’m home.”

You look up from the book you’re reading and hop down from your seat on the roof just in time to see Solomon emerge from the back garden, looking noticeably dishevelled, with leaves decorating his head like some sort of fancy accessory.

“Welcome back!” You greet him happily, setting the book aside and moving forward to start picking the leaves from his hair. Solomon smiles softly at you as you take his bag in one hand and start pulling him to the front door with the other. “You forgot your talisman again, by the way.”

“I noticed,” He laughs, gently removing your hand from his upper arm and wrapping his fingers around it instead. “Why else do you think I ended up in the hedges again?”

“It’s a wonder that you’ve had to make these temporary talismans so many times and you still haven’t gotten one right yet,” You tease in reply, nudging him in the shoulder. “How many points is that on the tally now, then?”

“Ten for the basement, seven for the roof, and eleven for the hedges now,” He answers with a small pout as you laugh. “Honestly, you’d think I would have learnt my lesson...”

“You never do, love.” 

The door creaks as you and your husband enter the house, only to immediately be greeted by a bundle of scales hitting you head-on. You manage to keep your footing and steady yourself on the doorway; Solomon isn’t so lucky, and ends up laying spread-eagled on the floor with about two hundred kilograms of excited adolescent dragon purring on his chest.

“Looks like Triton missed you,” You comment with a bright smile, setting Solomon’s bag down beside the umbrella rack and leaning over to give the dragon a scratch behind his left horn, just the way he likes it. He rumbles happily and jingles the little bell around his neck at you. “Isn’t he getting big?”

“I saw him this morning, [Name],” Solomon wheezes from his position on the floor, somehow managing to reach up and tickle Triton’s chin with one hand despite the dragon’s weight. “He can’t have grown that much in ten hours.”

“You never know!” You tell him, reaching up and wrapping your arms around Triton’s neck. He coos in a delighted fashion and raises his head, setting it heavily on your shoulder. Solomon uses the brief lightening of the weight on him to take in a deep breath as you allow your dragon to nuzzle furiously into your neck. “Dragons are unpredictable, you know.”

“Believe me, I do,” He sighs tiredly as Triton blows out a pleased puff of hot air and knocks the clock off the wall again. “Now, if you wouldn’t mind, Triton, I’d quite like to get back up again.”

The dragon blinks and raises his head from your shoulder, glancing down at the sorcerer that he’s crushing under his weight. Then he huffs and turns away again.

“Oh, you—!” Solomon curses as the dragon seems to press even harder into him. Your laughter rings out across the hall, and while he’d normally take a moment to admire the sound, he’s a little preoccupied. “[Name], stop laughing and help me!”

“He’s like a rebellious teenager!” You splutter helplessly in reply, voice still trembling slightly out of mirth. Triton makes a happy noise as you reach up and rub his scaly cheeks, his ears fluttering slightly. “Awww, you’re really growing up, aren’t you, baby? Your poor dads are really going to have their work cut out for them, huh?”

“Hey,” Solomon calls reproachfully from beneath Triton’s enormous chest. “Your husband’s still being crushed down here.”

“Oh, right!” You click your tongue and give Triton a meaningful look. He grumbles but obeys nevertheless, hopping off of Solomon (though not without knocking all the air out of him by using his chest as a launchpad) and scampering off, most likely to go play with the salamanders that have set up shop in the storage room again.

“I’ll never understand how you manage him so well,” Solomon sighs as you bend down to pull him to his feet, rubbing at the sore spot on his chest. “He never listens to me.”

“Aw, he loves you, really,” You reassure him, taking his hand and pressing a comforting kiss to his knuckles. “He just likes roughhousing with you.”

Solomon shakes his head, wanting to complain further about the big lizard that the two of you had adopted six months ago after the last one grew up and flew the nest, but then he sees the smile on your face, and he feels the flicker of irritation in his chest die down almost immediately. It’s at times like this that he’s really reminded of how absolutely worth it all of the nonsense he has to put up with at work is - because, at the end of the day, you are here, with your warm eyes and your lovely smile, with your comforting hands and your warm embrace, and there is no road too long to walk if you are waiting for him at the end of it.

“I know,” He sighs, tugging off his shoes and stepping into his favourite pair of slippers - the ones with the little cat faces printed on them that you’ve charmed to always maintain a perfect temperature for his feet. He glances at your own feet and notes that you’re wearing your matching pair as well.

The two of you have long since set up a routine for this sort of occasion, and you both fall into it with unconscious ease. Solomon changes into something more comfortable while you put the kettle on in the kitchen, and the two of you inevitably spend so long snuggled up together on the largest armchair in the living room, unwilling to leave the warmth of each other’s presence, that the water cools down, and you end up having to put it back on again. Then you sit together at the table, you with a coffee with a dash of vanilla and him with his favourite chrysanthemum tea that you always brew just the way he likes it. Sometimes you’ll sit side by side, shoulders pressed up against each other as you show him the specifics of your latest curse-breaking commission, and sometimes you’ll sit across from each other, holding hands across the tabletop as he tells you about his day.

Today it is the former, but Solomon can’t help but zone a little out of the detailed deep-dive you’re giving him about the intricacies of the spell that’s cursed this teapot to shoot its contents at anyone who attempts to fill it. It isn’t that your explanation is boring - quite the contrary, in fact; Solomon could probably listen to you describing the most mundane or trivial of things on loop for the rest of his life and be perfectly content with it. No, it’s more to do with the fact that this is the first time he’s been home before dark in a long while, and he can’t help but revel in the fact that he can spend time with you like this again. Of course, there’s something wonderful in coming home to be able to collapse into bed beside you and bury his face in the crook of your neck, drifting to sleep as you burrow closer to him even in your sleep, but Solomon can’t run off of that forever - he needs to see you with your eyes open as well, after all. 

“You’re not listening to a word I say, are you?” You ask as you note the far-off look on your husband’s face. You’re not offended in the slightest by the way he starts at the directed question, evidently guilty, but you are a little puzzled. “Is there something wrong?”

Solomon’s mouth falls open slightly, then shuts again. There’s something about the way you’re looking at him so earnestly that makes his heart stutter like nothing else. Honestly, you’d think he’d be used to this after nearly two thousand years, but it seems that he’s still as weak for you as he was on the very first day of your marriage. “...I suppose I’ve just got a lot on my mind.”

“You always have a lot on your mind,” You counter softly, giving his hand a brief squeeze. “Come on, you can tell me.”

He laughs quietly, bringing your linked hands up to his face and gently holding yours to the side of his face; you, in turn, unfurl your fingers from around his and rub his cheek affectionately. After a moment, a fond smile pulling at his lips, Solomon replies, “I’ve… missed you a lot this week.”

You pause in mild surprise, but it quickly turns to endearment as Solomon presses his body even closer to yours. The hand that you’re using to hold your mug of coffee moves to settle on his shoulder as you pull him closer. “Really now? What a coincidence. I’ve missed you lots as well, love.”

He chuckles a little bashfully, his cheeks flushing. It seems that your ability to fluster him hasn’t declined even a bit over the years. He’s still well and truly besotted.

You can’t help but find it rather amusing that, despite already having spent a good hour and a half or so in the living room, bundled so close together in the blankets that you could feel his breath on your skin, the two of you are still nestling so close together now. You suppose it’s the effects of a week with much less contact than usual.

You lean forward and press a kiss to his jaw before pulling back again, reaching for your coffee and taking a sip. Solomon exhales softly, pulling his own drink towards him and draining the last of the tea in a single mouthful.

“You know,” He says, setting his empty cup down on the table. “One of my coworkers was asking about you earlier.”

“‘Coworkers’,” You snort at his choice of language, earning a reproachful poke in the side as punishment. “Come on, just admit that they’re your friends.”

“Fine,” He sighs. “One of my friends, then - Mammon, the one that Lucifer’s stringing up all the time.”

“The one with white hair?” You recall, thinking back to the group photo that Simeon had sent you a while back. “He’s the Avatar of Greed, right?”

“That’s the one,” Solomon nods. “Apparently he never noticed that I was married.”

“Well, you can’t really blame him,” You say, giving him a playful nudge. “Honestly, the way you keep your mouth shut, you’d think I was some shameful secret or something.”

Solomon looks scandalised by the very idea - it had only been a little joke, but his eyes flash with such affront that it’s almost as if someone has genuinely called you such a thing. “Of course not! I’d never—”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, I was joking,” You cut him off before he can get more riled up. Solomon calms down quickly once you set a comforting hand on his knee, though he still looks a little indignant. “I know why you don’t like talking about us much, but really, it’s okay. They’re your friends, aren't they?”

He hesitates, then nods, releasing another deep sigh soon afterwards. “I suppose. There isn’t much I can really do about it at this point anyway… according to Simeon, most of them have somehow figured it out already.”

“They’re probably a lot smarter than you give them credit for, Sol,” You hum, reaching up and brushing a stray lock of hair out of his eyes for him. “They’re demons, after all. They’ve lived even longer than us.”

“Believe me, they really aren’t.” Solomon shakes his head, a frown pinching at his brow at the very memory of the amount of things that his coworkers have done recently - some of the most notable being Diavolo setting an entire flock of geese free in the courtyard for an ‘experiment’, Levi quite literally throwing himself out of a window just to win a bet against Mammon about who could get down the stairs faster, Asmo causing a stampede in the main hall by dropping and shattering a bottle full of a powerful aphrodisiac potion that became even more powerful once released into the air, and Lucifer accidentally breaking one of Solomon’s favourite cauldrons when he’d transformed into his demon form and inadvertently smacked halfway across the room it with one of his upper wings.

“I’d really love to meet them some day,” You sigh, swirling the contents of your mug around. “They sound like fun.”

“Trust me, the trouble isn’t worth it—” Solomon attempts to reason with you, but he gives up laughably quickly as you pout at him in protest. “Oh, fine. But don’t blame me if you get sick because of the charm again.”

“We don’t have to use the charm,” You shake your head. “Just do a teleportation spell!”

“You know that that’s risky,” Solomon sighs, chucking you under the chin and leaning forward to kiss the tip of your nose. You laugh as he draws back again, a pleased smile rising on his face at your reaction. “We could end up anywhere.”

“You’ve teleported them a bunch of times, though, haven’t you? And you haven’t ended up in Texas or the Sahara Desert any of those times!”

The resemblance to his earlier conversation with Mammon and Simeon is almost uncanny. “That’s different. I was still teleporting them within the Devildom, not across an entire realm barrier… and besides, I can afford the risk with them. You’re a different story.”

You pout again, shoulders dropping in defeat, though it doesn’t escape Solomon’s notice that his sentiment seems to have appeased you at least a little. “...guess we’ll just have to use a transportation talisman, huh…?”

“That’s your only option if you really want to visit, yes.”

You go quiet for a moment or two, nose wrinkling and face scrunching as you think it over. Solomon doesn’t mind the lack of conversation - he entertains himself by studying your features, wondering for perhaps the millionth time how he managed to find someone like you.

Finally, a determined look rising on your face, you nod and proclaim, “Then I’ll do it!”

Solomon cocks his head slightly to the side. He can’t say he’s surprised by your eagerness, but he had expected it to take you longer to make up your mind. He opens his mouth to say something, but tou answer his question before he’s even asked it, a skill that you’d managed to pick up within the first year or so of knowing him.

“I really wanna see what you actually get up to when you work,” You explain, looking a little sheepish. “You’ve had a job there for nearly two years and I’ve never even said a word to the people you work with.”

Solomon laughs. “It isn’t usually a requirement in the workplace. Wear appropriate uniform, bring any equipment you need, introduce your husband to your coworkers within the decade…”

“Still, I’d feel bad if I didn’t at least meet them,” You say. “Besides, I want to see Simeon as well. You said he’s working down in the Devildom for a bit as well, didn’t you?”

“Why are you so eager to see him, huh?” Solomon’s tone is light and teasing, so you know not to take him seriously as he puts on an hurt expression. “I’m offended. Your dear husband’s right here and you’re thinking about some angel.”

“Oh, stop it, you,” You shake your head in slightly exasperated amusement as he runs a finger down his cheek in lieu of a tear. “You know it’s not like that.”

“Isn’t it?” He pulls an exaggeratedly petulant face and pretends to turn away like an upset child. “Sometimes I feel like you love him more than me.”

“Simeon’s a lovely guy, but you’re still the only guy for me, you doof,” You tell him, tapping fondly at the cheek he’s turned to you with your free hand. Solomon obligingly turns back around to look at you, a grin pulling at his mouth. “Why would I marry you and then stay here for two thousand years if you weren't?”

“I guess I always assumed it was out of pity or something,” He jokes in response, leaning forward and briefly brushing his nose against yours. “And, just so you know, you’re the only guy for me as well.”

“I’d better be,” is your lighthearted reply as he pulls away. After a moment, looking at him expectantly, you begin tentatively, “So…?”

He sighs, but gives you a smile nevertheless. “I’ll ask Diavolo. He probably wouldn’t mind if I brought you without asking first, but Lucifer definitely would.”

“What’ll we do if they hate me?” You ask. “Do demons actually eat humans?”

“They wouldn’t dare,” He replies firmly. “Not if I have anything to say about it. Besides, they won’t hate you. I doubt anyone could.”

You laugh and drop your head to rest on his chest. “You’re too nice to me, love.”

Solomon turns to wrap both his arms around your shoulders, setting his chin on the crown of your head. You smile into his jumper, looping your own arms around his waist and pushing yourself closer to him.

“I’m not just being nice. Honestly, [Name], you’re kind of the most perfect man in the universe.”

[inarizakibabe]

Changes

As the first prince of his country Suna had just about everything his heart could want. Riches, fine silks and linens, and more food than he could eat. One would expect with a life as luxurious as his he would be happy. Unfortunately his father could see the sadness deep in his son's eyes. Maybe he needed  new hobby or more servants to boss around? Then again looking at things carefully the king noticed his son avoided the servants as much as he could. Just what could cheer up his son and bring back the joy in his eyes? Oh! Maybe that could work.

"You called for me father?"

"Yes Rintaro. I've noticed your sour mood these past few months and I think I know what could make it better." the king smiled down at his son. "I remember entering a funk as you young kids say and your grandfather threw a ball in my honor and I ended up meeting your mother."

Suna fought hard to hide the disgust creeping onto his face. Surely his father didn't really think he wanted to meet someone.

"So that's why three days from now we will have a ball and invite all eligible maidens to attend. Maybe I'll be able to see you smile again,"

"Um father with all due respect I don't really see how a ball will improve my funk as you called it. Maybe if I took a ride around the forest I'll feel better?" Suna hoped his father would get the message but knowing how stubborn he was he'll most likely be engaged three days from now. "I'll even bring my attendants to make sure I'm alright."

"Nonsense going for a ride isn't what you need. Trust me on this Rintaro. A ball is exactly what you need. You're dismissed. You have a ball to prepare for." The king said before turning back to the papers on his desk.

Suna sighed and left his father's office. Maybe if he ran away nobody would miss him. Or the entire kingdom would be put on lock down until he was found. He couldn't put his people through that so there was only one thing to do.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The next day Suna found himself taking a walk in the garden. If all goes to plan he wouldn't have to propose and maybe he could get the freedom he was craving. Sure castle life was fun but when you have people constantly telling you how to live and doing every thing fro you it can get tiring. Before he turned eighteen he didn't have as many responsibilities as he does now. Life was simple he would take lessons during the day and after a certain time he was free to do what he wanted until dinner time.

Now he's stuck behind a desk everyday taking on the tasks of the kingdom he father didn't want to do. If he got to leave the castle anymore it was for business and once all was settled he'd come right back home and behind the four walls of his personal office again. His home had become a prison and his office his cell.

"You know if you continue to frown at the ground it's less likely to open up and take you away from here."

Suna looked up and found one of his attendants speaking with him. He had two personal attendants who miraculously happened to be twins. They met each other at the age of six and have been together ever since. The one speaking to him now was the blonde one Atsumu which meant his brother Osamu, with gray hair, was most likely harrassing the kitchen staff.

"That sounds like a dream come true right now. Don't you feel suffocated here? You've lived here your whole and trained to work for me. Was it something you always wanted or was this chosen for you?" Suna asked.

"Sounds like someone is scared of their responsibilities. Alright Rintaro tell me what's wrong." Atsumu offered Suna an encouraging smile until he noticed the deadpan look on Suna's face. "You don't have to look at me like that you know."

"No offense but, actually take as much offense as you can from this but last I checked advice giving wasn't something you were capable of. Where's Osamu?"

"Looking up one of the maid's skirts. Now what do you mean I'm not a good advice giver? I happen to give great advice to people in need." Atsumu huffed.

"Right right remind me again why ten percent of the palace guards quit after you left 'inspiring' words with them." Suna mused.

"Be glad you're a prince." Atsumu muttered dejectedly.

"Threatening the crowned prince? That's grounds for dungeon time. Let me know if you want gray or white sheets." Suna laughed as he continued in the direction he was headed before.

"I'll take green. Look the fact of the matter is you're clearly not happy about something and as one of your attendants it's my job to fix that. I can get your horse saddled if you want and tell your father you had an entire platter filled with cheese." Usually Suna would grimace at the mention of cheese but a ride through the kingdom sounded more like what he needed.

"Thanks but no thanks, after the last time my father would kill me if he found out I ran off again. If you did want to cheer me up you could figure out a way to get him to cancel this ball he's throwing in my honor."

"You know as well as I do just how stubborn your old man is. You'd have better luck raising the dead than changing his mind. Look on the bright side. There'll be cake." Atsumu smiled at Suna who in turn frowned at him.

"For saying that you get purple sheets."

"Wait! Let's talk this out!"

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The following day Suna found himself in his room being fitted for a new suit. In the twenty minutes he's been standing there he's been pricked by pins three times.

"Last warning tailor. The next time you hurt the prince you'll be charged for treason." Today Osamu was keeping Suna company

''Forgive me your highness. You're more built than I'm use to dealing with. Rest assured this suit will be the most beautiful suit you'll ever wear." the tailor put another pin in the fabric he was working with and prayed he hadn't pricked Suna again. "If I may ask, what occasion is this ball in honor of? The last celebration we had was your eighteenth birthday and I believe your birthday isn't until next year so what's the joyous occasion?"

"You'll find out the day after the ball until then please focus on leaving skin on my body." Suna sighed.

"Of course your highness my apologies again."

"Tsumu talked to me yesterday. What's going on with you?"

"He talks too much. He simply saw me walking in the garden nothing else."

"Oh yeah? I heard that princess you met in Shektor is coming tomorrow. Should I make arrangements that she's your first dance of the evening?" Osamu smirked at Suna who scowled at him. "Oh dear your highness what an expression. Be careful Princess Tsumaki doesn't see it she might think one of the wind goblins is tickling your nose again. In fact I'll write a letter to her right now to bring her special medicine to cure you!"

"Osamu you bastard! Ow! Alright fine enough I'll answer both your questions just stop tormenting me! I should have both of you locked up for treason." Suna growled trying to keep the parts if his sanity he still had.

The tailor and Osamu smirked at each other as Suna began to speak again. "I just felt trapped behind these walls recently. Is everything I'm doing really important? I sit down and sigh papers all day either about farm rations or mining and I just don't see the need to do any of that. The people know what they need to survive and they know how to do what they need to survive so why should I waste time looking over it for them? They're not children who need to be supervised they'd be well off without me. The again if I don't do that then what is my purpose here? What am I suppose to do with my life? Am I just the face the people use when they need something? No wait that's my father's job so I'm just here. I make agreements and trade deals with other countries and attend diplomat meetings my father can't make it to. If I didn't do any of that then I'd be a regular boy in the kingdom maybe doing stable work. Sounds better than being the one everyone blames for everything if things go wrong. My father apparently doesn;t know me very well and thought I was lonely so he's throwing a ball for me to find a wife. What's not to love about that?"

Osamu sighed and pulled one of Suna's cheeks. "First don't talk about yourself like that. Like it or not this is how you were born and there's literally nothing you can do about that. It doesn't matter what kind of job you do even if all you did was tell someone to move a chair you still did something and it benefited somebody in the long run. You can't see yourself for the things you do but me and everyone else around you can. You just need to look at things from a different point of view."

Suna looked away from both of them and sighed while taking in Osamu's words. Maybe all he did need was to view things from a different perspective. Yeah maybe that could work. "Ow!"

"You didn't have to stick him again Mori." Osamu sweatdropped.

"Nope that time definitely was an accident. Please try not to move your highness." Mori smiled innocently.

Or maybe his tailor would take him out first. Whichever came first he guessed.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The day of the ball finally arrived and carriage after carriage arrived at the castle holding nobles and royals from near and far. Suna was in his room again watching from the window as carriages entered the palace grounds. Maybe if he's lucky he could make a run for it during the party and jump the fence to get away from everybody to maybe save himself for a little while. Or maybe one of guards sees him and tries to follow him and ruins his plans.

"Just sit through the ball and I'm sure your father will let you leave for an hour tomorrow."

"Yeah right after his engagement announcement. Listen Rin if you don't want to do it then I don't see why you should."

"Don't listen to Tsumu. We'll help you if you need a breather every now and again but we can't cover fro you the entire night."

"Or eat these two slices of cheesecake right now and be excused for the rest of the night." Atsumu suggested wiggling his eyebrows.

It was a pretty solid plan but a night of pain wasn't worth missing the ball. His father might only postpone it and he'd be confined to his room until everything passes.

"Well gentlemen it's my last night a single man. If I'm lucky Tsumaki won't be my future bride. The small bout of freedom I had was nice but it's time for me to be a big boy and do what I have to. Once I'm king the first thing I'm doing is making sure Asami doesn't go through this." Suna sighed.

"I doubt she'd have a problem with it. Which girl doesn't want to be entertained by a handsome man? Bonus points cause he's rich." Atsumu shrugged.

Suna's eyebrow raised in confusion, "Are you calling the princess a money whore?"

Atsumu chuckled softly and smiled at Suna. "You and I both know that's not what I meant. You're really the only person who has a problem with palace life. Asami is actually looking forward to her happily ever after which is something you need to start doing. You can hate it but if it's something that has to be done then you have to suck it up and get it over with."

"You can say that because it's not your life. I need to teach Asami about how dirty boys are. Osamu you'll be the example for what you and Mori did yesterday. Who could've imagined my attendant and the tailor conspiring against me. The mutiny." Suna shook his head in mock disappointment.

"Be disappointed all you want. I did what I had to do. Now you have to get ready for tonight. If you need us you know where we'll be." Osamu left with Atsumu right behind him.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*

Night fell quickly and two hours into the party Suna finally met all the young women his father had invited. Many were kind and some more beautiful than necessary but all quickly looked away when Princess Tsumaki approached him. The night continued on as his father hoped with Suna being forced to mingle with everyone present. Eventually his social meter began to run out and he retreated to a hidden balcony for air.

A sound close by caught his attention and Suna found a young woman who seemed to be in the same situation as him. If he remembered he remembered her name was (y/n) third princess of a neighboring country. Suna tried to sneak away before you could see him but alas luck wasn't on his side.

"Your highness good night."

Suna counted to three then slowly faced you with a friendly smile, "Good night my lady. I hope you're enjoying the party."

"It's lovely and so is your country. Please give your father my thanks for inviting my family."

"I can assure you he'll give his thanks for attending. If I'm not being too forward may I ask why you're out here instead of enjoying the food?" Hopefully pressuring you like this will give Suna the quiet time he was hoping for.

"Forgive my rudeness but the amount of people inside made the room a little stuffy. I came out here for a little air." you smiled at him.

"Fair enough. I hope the air is to your liking."

"With all due respect your highness it's been a long night and it's exhausting speaking like this so if you don't mind we can call each other old acquaintances and speak like old friends would. It would be an honor if you would call me (y/n)."

Suna blinked at your request and fought the grin trying to rise on his face. "If that's so then feel free to call me Rintaro. Blame my father for taking things the wrong way and forcing us all to go through this."

"We can't really fight what our parents want us to do. Comes with the title really. You seemed upset earlier should I assume that you don't really want to get married?"

Suna sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I don't mind getting married I just don't think I should get married because my father thought I was in a funk as he called it. Sounds cliche but I actually believe in meeting someone and falling in love."

You blinked at the prince and giggled. "You're very cute Rintaro. I like to believe everyone wants to fall in love that way. Nobody wants to have their partner chosen for them. What good is being married if you're gonna be miserable everyday."

"If it means I don't have to sit through marriage consultations and weird balls like this one then I may just prefer the other way."

"Careful what you say. I think we both know your father is capable of that. I saw princess Tsumaki looking for her Rinnepoo earlier. Maybe I should let his majesty know you've chosen someone." You looked up to find Suna pouting at you. "Careful your highness they may send you back to etiquette classes for making such a face."

"Good evening Prince Rintaro. It's a pleasure to make your aquaintance tonight. I do hope that-"

"Ok! That's enough! Don't you dare repeat that."

Suna smirked and hid his mouth behind his hand. "Pardon me princess. I just found your greeting to me this evening amusing. I mean no harm it's just you were so cute. How many times did you practiced that?"

"Whatever. Let's see what you would do if the roles were reversed."

"Sorry princess but this isn't about me." Suna giggled.

"So you can smile and laugh. I almost thought you were emotionally constipated. Is that the funk your father thought you were in?"

Suna sighed being reminded of the situation he was in. "It's more than that but nobody would understand."

You smiled at him encouragingly. "The whole you're royalty so you have absolutely no reason to not be happy thing?"

"Exactly that. It's gonna sound stupid but I guess I miss the freedom I had before I turned eighteen. Well more I don't see the need for me to do the things I'm doing."

"Ah you feel monarchy should be abolished. Look at it this way crackers taste good on their own but with cheese the taste is elevated. Cheese and crackers is superior to just plain old crackers by themselves or just cheese by itself. Yes your kingdom could probably prosper on it's own but there are situations the people shouldn't handle on their own. Budget distribution, land distribution, diplomatic matters and many other things. We exist to keep harmony in the kingdom. Imagine leaving children to raise themselves. Many would unfortunately die before reaching a certain age. Think of your kingdom as your very own children. They're self sufficient yes but without you to guide them in the things they don't understand they'll be hurt. You can still do the things you love but your children come first. If you don't take care of them then someone may just take them away. "

Suna sighed. "I can understand that but I just don't understand why it has to be me."

"I don't understand why it can't be you. Anyone could've been chosen for the job but you were chosen. I don't know you well enough to speak on certain things but I have heard rumors that you basically run half of your kingdom on your own. The fact that nothing has fallen apart shows that you're more than competent to do your job. You need to have more confidence in yourself. I've only known you for a short time but I can already tell you're a wonderful person. Don't sell yourself short." You smiled at Suna who looked at you unsure.

Suna shrugged, "If you say so (y/n). Are you hungry?"

"I'm alright for now. But I do think we need to get back before someone misses us."

"What's the rush? You know the reason for this party."

"Is that you asking for my company your highness?"

"I didn't hear a no princess." Suna smirked when you giggled.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

A few months later Suna found himself sitting in his office again. He was hard at work but this time with a slight smile on his face. A knock on the door took him away from the work he was doing and Atsumu stepped into his office.

Atsumu placed a sandwich and a cup of tea on the table in front of Suna "You seem to be in a better mood these days. What's your secret?"

"Sorry but secrets are secret for a reason."

"Keep your secrets then. Simply means I can't tell you the one I just heard." Atsumu smirked.

"I heard the dungeons don't have heat." Suna shrugged.

"Really? Just make sure my sheets are red."

Suna laughed and shook his head, "You little turd nugget. What's going on?"

"Alright fine but only because you asked so rudely. I heard your favorite princess is coming by later today. Maybe if you finish all your work you can be at the doors to greet her."

"Lucky for me this was the last page I had to look over. Prepare two horses and I'll make sure your sheets are maroon."

"And you call me the turd nugget." Atsumu rolled his eyes. "His majesty said you can do whatever you want for the rest of the day once you stop keeping him in suspense."

"Sounds good. Thanks for lunch."

Things were definitely starting to look up and with one simple question later tonight Suna's life was about to change again. This time for the better.

[popculturebuffet]

Amphibia Weekly Reviews: New Wartwood and Friend or Frobo?

Hello all you happy people! And welcome back to another week’s worth of Amphibia reviews! And we got two standout episodes today as Marcy tries to home improvement her way into people’s hearts, and Polly makes friends with a destructive but endearing robot. Find out what I thought about in full under the cut!

New Wartwood: Marcy episode! Wu-hoo! And true to the show’s current status quo, and I do love how it evolves, it’s her first day in Wartwood and she’s pumped. And true to the awkward, probably autistic like yours truly, nerd we’re dealing with.. she does not make a great impression or intergrate herself to the naturally suspcious of outsiders tow. So when questioned by Anne how her day went she gets into how the town’s carefully built on a swamp.. and how the townsfolk hate her, complete with Angry Mob. Anne disperses it but it’s still the funniest moment of the episode to me, both in how a small one sprouted up so quick.. and how polly’s there despite LIKING Marcy (”I go where the mob goes anne!”). ALso i’d be remiss if I didn’t mention Anne just.. casually blushing while talking to Marcy. There’s no catalyist or any reason she would for any other reason than being sweet on her. 

So Marcy, after fixing a statue she knocked over, decides she can earn their love faster as she dosen’t want to wait.  This does get to one of Marcy’s core issues.. while she has many, like any of us, it ties back to the fact she has trouble getting this isn’t a video game. I mean she does get the diffrence between real life and a game on an objective level, but she can’t get real life dosen’t WORK like fiction, something i’ve also struggled with and can massively relate to. So she assumes helping them, via fixing up the town a bit, will make them like her. It makes them warm up a little but they still don’t. 

So naturally, who should come in by blimp to give her a tempting offer that will end badly but Mayor Toadstool! He also has a blimp now but it keeps escaping... I think I know where it went. 

So THAT’S how he can afford those things. Naturally seeing how nice Marcy made things he has a plan to exploit the hell out of her gifts with masonry to pretty up the town as a tourist attraction to make him more money. Anne talks her out of it.. but she ends up caving in the middle of the night. I also love the touch of her staying in the Fwagon, not forgetting the plantars bought it and finding a practical use for it in and out of story now i’ts no longer needed. I also love the little signs she has on it. 

The next morning the town awakes to marble pillars in front of all of the shops to make them look fancy and Marcy and the Mayor promoting the town’s new effort,s including a golden founderss tatue and a horrifying golden clock of toadstool, with Anne warry of her girlfriend’s antics. Mostly becaue you can’t force people to like you or bribe them to. Otherwise you cause the entire town to sink into the water bellow... like now. But while Marcy is now convinced the town will never accept her she still dosen’t want them all to die, and summons Joe Sparrow.. who continues to be the best thing ever added to this cast I swear to god as he helps her save the day, removing the various new things to reduce weight, saving some villiagers from a pillar (as Croaker points out their frogs ending up in the water isn’t that deadly), and getting rid of the gold monstrosities. 

So the end result is that the town is rightfully liviid, though she does genuinely appologize.. and suprisingly.. TOADSTOOL actually tries to take all the blame. The town rightfully dosen’t let him, but it’s clear he’s somehow growing as a person. Even if anne’s assement of him as “What would happen if the Monopoly Man had a Baby with a PIece of Fried Chicken” is still 100% accurate. They do agree they’ll like her with time, just like Anne, and if supscious, will gladly give her another shot. So Marcy’s learned her lesson.. always listen to your girlfriend. And while she literally fixes her damage.. the mascot toadstool hired explodes as it’s full of bugs. 

Final Thoughts on New Wartwood: This was a fun episode. A fairly simple and predictable one, but sometimes that works perfectly and this one was just damn funny, charming and full of good character stuff. Top notch. 

Friend or Frobo?:

I have a confession to make: I fricking love robots. It’s something that really HASN’T come up before, but I love a good robot. There’s just tons of good stories to be had with artifical beings, their struggles to be recongized for who they are, their cool powers, their awkward but endearing attempts to fit in with us less than deserving humans. And ficton’s had TONS and TONS of awesome ones: The Vision (in both 616 and MCU flavors), who is one of my faviorite heroes period, Red Tornado, Jenny Wakeman, Shard the Metal Sonic, BOYD, Aya, Data, Crow, Tom Servo, Gypsy, Growler, Robo, Grimlock. the list really DOES go on into infinity for me. 

WEirdly though I didn’t pay much mind to Frobo before this episode.. but with no real personality other than endearlingly running into the same obstacle for hours, and no real background yet, I didn’t really have anything to attach to other than “Cool anne’s either going to nearly get killed by a robot or get one”. But this episode changed that using the oldest trick in the book: having a child befriend it. We’ve seen it before with Sentinels, Badniks, Autobots and Iron Giants. Now we get it again with largeish frog robot. And it is pretty damn good. 

This is a Polly episode. It’s Hop Pop’s faviorite day: Seed Store Day! Naturally Marcy has come along and naturlaly she’s just as geeked out about seeds as he is because she’s precious and I must protect her from the horrible trauma her trusted father figure is about to inflict on her. Polly naturally wants to get into some shenanigans but suprisingly.. Anne and Sprig don’t wanna anymore. THey’ve learned their lesson and decide to just play video games. So polly does the resonable thing.. and blames them for some shenanigans on her part and goes out to get into more shneanigans only to find it’s lonely without a friend. 

Enter Frobo, named that because he looks like a frog and she heard the term robo from anne’s game. And despite very limited programming... Frobo is VERY loveable. As Polly notes he’s essentially a baby: he starts by mimicing her, including his horrifying but endearing laugh, and even doing her spin dash she gained a few episodes back I didn’t mention because I forgot. That one’s on me. Sprig also did the Yooka Laylee thing on top of her spin dash then so there’s that. 

Point is it’s all fun, games and heartwarming bonding till Frobo accidently floods the city and gets mobbed and one of the mobbs makes the terrible mistake of accidently kicking polly. 

He goes into Red Eye Iron Giant HOmage mode and starts fighting everybody.. including Anne and Sprig who show up to contain things, but eventually Polly wins everyone over with a heartwarming speech as she stops him, pointing out it was her fault and while he is weird, he’s just an innocent> The town.. decides why not. As the mayor points out “We already have two freaks what’s a third”. And given Marcy nearly killed them all yesterday and they begrudginly acepted her and anne did it WAY more than once and they see her as one of them, yeah they give up. 

Naturally once they get back Marcy is an easy sell. Now she can do chrono trigger cosplay! Hop Pop is a bit till it’s shown that frobo can farm super fast, and he’s part of the family now. Sprig and Anne shrug off him having come from the factory, and this surely won’t backfire on them surely. 

Final Thoughts on Friend or Frobo:

This one was excellent. The idea of Polly having to learn repsonsiblity was a nice idea, and Frobo is as I said endearing: he’s simply an innocent being who knows nothing and is slowly learning and his friendship with polly is really fucking cute. And giving him an emotional attachment to the plantars means whatevers going on with him gets higher stakes.. and given how robots are treated in fiction i’m just counting the minutes till he tragically gets blowed up real good. But until then this episode was a standout for the season. While as I made clear the “Kid befriends death machine” trope is not NEW, the baby concept made it feel fresh. It also as usual had some good jokes. 

So all in all a top notch week, really great stuff and i’ts only going to get better next time!

Nexttime: Mayor Toadstool is tempted to leave. Kay. But more importantly MADDIE EPISODE AGAIN BITCHES. AND IT HAS MARCY IT. I’M READY. 

Next On This Blog: Final Space Yo! Quinn and Gary visit earth and Tribore leaves.. again. Be here or be... elsewhere I guess

If you liked this review, follow for more, join my patreon, and comission your own review if you want via my askbox, discord and dms. See you at the next rainbow. 

[raffinit]

5 Mythology? For Sylvaina. The prophecy said, so Person A and Person B are to be hitched!

this one got away from me a little bit i apologise

@skwiyhedd​

The first time Jaina ever caught wind of the prophecy was as a child; barely into her tweens, poring over dusty tomes in the highest shelves of the library. Books that most had forgotten even existed except for the librarians who were about as old and dusty as the books themselves. Jaina rather enjoyed spending time in the library. If not for the quiet, yellowy warmth it gave her, then for the stories Old Ned would tell her.

“There was a prophecy,” he said one day, tome spread open in his lap. He pointed one weathered finger at an image Jaina could barely make out; carefully etched in inks over parchment, faded over time and wear. An outline of the sun and the moon, the land and the sea. A tree outlined in flames and a throne of ice. “Eons old; some say older than time itself. A warrior —” Old Ned pointed to another picture, a figure in black ink whose edges frayed with time into a deep maroon and purple. Its upturned face smudged with age as if black tears ran freely from it. “— destined for Death. But Risen again from his grave with vengeance in his heart to burn the living to ashes with him.”

“How cruel,” Jaina remembered saying. “How heartless.”

Old Ned smiled at her patiently and gestured to her chest. “It’s always a matter of heart, my girl. See here —” He led her eyes down to the picture directly across the one of the warrior; a frozen throne and the warrior standing before it, beside another figure, unidentifiable.

She peered at it curiously. “Who is that?”

“No one knows. The prophecy spoke of another; a master of the elements. Someone with a lion heart strong enough to tame the wild fire of the warrior. She gave her heart to him and they ruled the land together, in peace, for ages to come.”

“But —”

The sound of the library doors creaking open made them both look up abruptly.

“There you are,” Jaina’s mother huffed. “Come along for your lessons, dear. Leave poor Old Ned in peace.”

Old Ned chuckled, shutting the tome as he rose on slow, aching feet. “No harm done, m’lady. The young Lady Proudmoore is always welcome here.”

“I want to hear more about the prophecy,” she begged, but Old Ned had simply pet her hair and sent her away.

“Another time,” he promised her. “Another day.”

When she asked her mother of it, Katherine scoffed. “It’s nothing more than fairy tales, dear. Children’s stories. Let it out of your mind.”

Jaina frowned, but the thought was fleeting in her youth at the prospect of magic lessons.

--------

The next time she heard of the prophecy was in passing; a derogatory remark made during a lesson in Dalaran. Second-year students in a cluster in the back of the class. “Pah,” the ringleader said. “Prophecies are nothing more than fantasies. Fairy tales people tell themselves to make themselves feel important.”

Jaina rolled her eyes and continued reading. They were meant to transcribe the Old Language; not whinge about it. The syntax was convoluted, but its grammar was similar enough to her encounters with the Elven languages for her to piece it together. “The pronouns are all wrong,” she told the archmage. “This translation for the words aren’t gender-specific. Even modern Thalassian and Elvish use neutral pronouns.”

The archmage peered at the book over her shoulder. “So it would appear. Translations aren’t always meant to be taken literally, Lady Proudmoore. Especially of such ancient tongues. The point of the exercise is to extract meaning, not nitpick.”

There was a snicker from the back of the class, and Jaina gave them all a withering glare.

“It’s wrong,” she said stoutly, looking the archmage in the eye. “The language is wrong. I can’t extract meaning if it’s telling me the wrong things.”

She earned two hours of detention with the archmage that day for her efforts. It was soon lost to the rest of her memories of Dalaran when the Scourge swept across the land.

-------

The last and most prominent time the prophecy came to light was late in the evening. When the day swept away into twilight and the stars scattered across the sky in a blanket murky light. It came at the hands of Thalyssra of all people — encased within a tome she had a distant memory of encountering.

“Forgive me for disturbing you so late in the evening,” Thalyssra murmured. There was a strange, pressing sense of urgency to her that prickled the nerves in Jaina’s spine. “But I had to show this to you.”

She brandished the tome, laying it open on Jaina’s desk until it came upon a page with two images. The warrior and the throne.

Thalyssra pointed at the figure beside the warrior, though her eyes were staring intently at Jaina. “That’s you.”

Jaina blinked. “What?”

“That’s you,” Thalyssra repeated, with rising excitement. “I remembered many years ago; centuries past when this prophecy was told. A warrior raised from the dead, vengeance in their heart — a master of the elements who could heal it —”

“That’s ridiculous,” she sputtered, reaching out to shut the tome. “Utter nonsense! Prophecies are just fairy tales, Thalyssra. Old wives’ tales.”

The night elf gestured towards portions of the book, flipping between pages eagerly. “Look, here — ‘arose in the sky, a flame so mighty; the roots of life burn’. That’s Teldrassil!” she exclaimed. “And here — ‘what melody rose from depths of black; the waters moved and the dead slept’. That’s you!”

“That’s absolutely ridiculous,” she insisted, yanking the book over to her and frantically skimming the page. “No, see — that bloody translation is wrong.”

“I think I’d know better than you would,” Thalyssra replied, not unkindly. “I checked and triple-checked. Even Liadrin agrees —”

Jaina shook her head incredulously. “Liadrin? What does Liadrin have to do with this?”

“She is closer to Sylvanas than either of us — I needed her assistance in speaking with the Banshee Queen —”

There was a knock at the door, quiet and discreet. Thalyssra’s eyes lit up. “Oh, that should be them.”

“Wh—” Jaina’s mind reeled. What did that even mean for them? Short of the thought being absolutely ridiculous, unfathomable, unprecedented — all those things — what the hell was she meant to do with the information? “Wait a minute, wait a damn minute —”

But Thalyssra would not. She moved to the door and pulled it open. Liadrin slipped in quickly, followed by a significantly less eager and wary Sylvanas Windrunner.

“Oh good,” Liadrin said, jerking her chin at the tome on the desk. “You’ve brought her up to speed. That’s half of the job done.”

Sylvanas eyed her warily from across the room, red eyes flicking to the tome and then back to her. “Proudmoore. I see they’ve roped you into this madness as well.”

“I’m honestly more surprised they roped you into it,” she replied, mostly without thought, because rational thought didn’t seem to go very far in that moment. “You seem to be the most sensible one here. What the fuck is happening right now?”

Liadrin answered for the Warchief, which in any other situation would have surprised Jaina. “We need you to get married. Yesterday would have been ideal, but we’ll take what we can get.”

Jaina stared in alarm. “Excuse me?”

“Married. Hitched. Espoused.” Liadrin waved a hand impatiently. “Whichever you prefer. The prophecy insists.”

“What bloody prophecy —”

“The prophecy of the warrior and the mage,” Sylvanas intoned quietly, looking equally at a loss. It was the most emotive Jaina had ever seen her. “The prophecy spoke of the End of Days; the rise of a dark power and a frozen throne. Everything that’s happened so far has come true. More or less. They seem to be convinced that if you and I...join...it would bring the prophecy to full circle.”

“And we all won’t die,” Liadrin added.

Jaina opened her mouth to protest, but no sound would come forth but for a strangled choke. She stared at Sylvanas for some sort of indication; to see the sneering smirk and cruel eyes or a deeply-rooted boredness. Something other than the grimness that set the Queen’s brow into a furrow and her lips into a thin line.

“Tides,” she gasped. “You actually believe them.”

“What choice do I have?” Sylvanas snapped, bridling with irritation. “I was coerced into coming here —”

“You knew exactly where we were going. I saw you quicken your step —”

“Regardless,” Sylvanas bit out, glaring at Liadrin. “We have nothing more to lose.” She looked at Jaina then, expectant and almost...unsure. “What say you, Lord Admiral? If we wed and it works, then that is all. If we do and it fails, it can be annulled. Simple as that.”

Thalyssra made a quiet little exclamation. “Oh, we must plan the wedding!”

“She hasn’t even said yes!” Liadrin gestured to Sylvanas. “Kneel, damn it. Do it properly.”

Jaina stared at them all, at Sylvanas, when the Warchief knelt upon a knee before her. A sudden rush of sensations made her sway in place.

“Don’t embarrass me, Proudmoore,” Sylvanas mumbled, glaring up at her. “I won’t debase myself further.”

“You need to ask her, you twit,” Liadrin scoffed, and Jaina marvelled at the absolute tolerance for the disrespect as Sylvanas gritted her teeth and growled in response.

“There’s no need,” Jaina blurted. “Don’t — it’s fine. I —” Tides below and Light above, what the hell was she even doing? 

“I accept.”

[thesvenqueen]

With All My Love

Rating: M Pairing: Kristanna (as if it would be anything else) Also on AO3

Previous Chapters: (Prologue)

Note(s): I got on a roll yesterday and this appeared. Some peaceful, normal day stuff...for now :) a

{Chapter 1}

Much like everyday, Anna ate her breakfast in silence.

It used to drive her mad. The deafening silence that seemed to drag on and on, only the slight scraping of utensils against plates & the little sips of morning tea, the only noise to break the lull.

It’s sad to say she’s used to it by now. I time once meant for mingling and chatting is now mostly a reminder to Anna on how distant her and Elsa had become.

She bites into her toast, taking a glance towards her sister. Elsa sits regal, as she always has, at the other end of the table. She sips her tea as she looks over the documents laid before her, today's paper placed off to the side.

It’s routine now for Elsa to use every meal time as a moment to review what she can. Whether it be letters from dignitaries, potential deals with other kingdoms, notes from council meetings; the papers were stacked by her plate in a small, neat pile.

There had been a few times when Anna had tried to speak, tried to engage with her older sister but they were in vain.

~.~

Try to ask her what she has planned for the day, how she’s feeling maybe? Couldn’t hurt to try. She can’t just ignore you like that.

I do, well I did. A few times, but it’s the same as always.

She just sipped her tea and nodded. I asked her what she had planned for the day and she just...nodded at me. I tried again but she shushed me and said “I have a lot of things to catch up on Anna, you’re distracting me”.

I don’t even think she heard me at all.

Well, at least she spoke. That’s a start!

I guess.

~.~

Finishing her breakfast, Anna stands. Her lessons weren’t for another hour or so, more than enough time to head to the kitchens as she did most mornings. With a smile at the thought, she reaches across the table to snag an apple for later and turns to leave.

As she reaches the large wooden door, she pauses, looking back to see if Elsa had even moved from her spot. If she’d even noticed her younger sister had gotten up to depart.

With a sigh, Anna realizes her sister hasn’t even so much as flinched. She pushes the hurt down as she leaves, as she has done so many times before.

~.~

“Here for your second breakfast already, my lady?”

Anna giggles as she enters the kitchen, smiling in kind at Gerda, “Not yet, but perhaps in an hour or so.”

~.~

Is there anyone at all you’re close with? There has to be someone in your household.

Well, there is Gerda. She assists where she can; kitchens, cleaning, you name it. She’s always been kind to me since I was little. Though I think I bring her to her wits end sometimes.

From the stories you’ve told, I couldn’t imagine why.

That is very rude of you….but you may be right.

~.~

Gerda playfully rolls her eyes, picking up her rolling pin to point it at her, “Not sure if I should prepare anything for you seeing as you snuck the last of the chocolates, again.”

Anna feigns hurt, placing her hand over her heart, “Gerda, I would never.”

“Yes, as you have said many times now.” Gerda sighs, going back to rolling out the dough, “But it’s not the rats stealing those boxes.”

“You have no faith in me Gerda.” Anna teased, eyeing the bowl of what seemed to be some sort of jam on the table.

“You make it hard to have faith my--AH, NO!” Gerda cries, smacking Anna’s hand away from the bowl before she can sneak a lick.

Anna pouts, only to smile as Gerda snags a spoon, scoops a bit and hands it over to her. It’s strawberry jam, Anna’s favorite and she hums in delight at the taste.

“Now that’s all you get till they’re ready.” Gerda said, snatching the spoon away, “Don’t need you eating up all my jam.”

While Gerda is turned away, Anna sneaks a finger into the bowl and swipes more jam before she can see.

“I hope your hands are clean at least.”

Anna squeaks in surprise, taking off to the back door before Gerda can come for her. She’s so distracted that as she bolts out the door and down the stairs, she slams head first into something large and solid.

“Well, good morning Princess.”

Anna rolls her eyes, stepping back as she rubs her head, “I hate it when you call me that.”

“Why? It’s your title isn't it?”

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean I like being called by it.”

“Just being formal.”

“And since when have you ever been formal Kristoff?”

Kristoff chuckles as she turns back to his sled, beginning to untie the ice, “With you? Never.”

“My point exactly.” Anna teases, taking her seat besides the stairs. She watches him intently, biting into her apple.

She’s known Kristoff for a few years now, and he had become a steady friend during these tough times. He started delivering ice to the castle every other day, and Anna had ran into him by chance.

Literally.

Much like this morning, she had swiped something from the kitchen. Running to escape Gerda’s tyraid, she’d bounded down the stairs, only to slam directly into Kristoff. He’d been holding a block of ice and their collision had sent the block flying to the ground, shattering into tiny pieces.

He’d been mad, glaring while she stood and repeated over and over how sorry she was. He didn’t care, he had exclaimed, that was his meal ticket she’d just managed to smash. He ignored her the rest of the delivery, brushing past her as she sat on the side of the steps. Feeling guilty, she’d snuck a bag of food into his sled when he wasn’t looking as an apology.

The next time he had visited, he had smiled at her, thanking her for the goods.

From then on, she’d sit idly beside the stairs or give Sven a few scratches behind his ear (and sneak some carrots much to Kristoff’s protests) while he did his delivery.

~.~

Is that all though? Seems quite lonely.

I mean, we get some visitors here and there that I’ll chat with. Some people bring goods for the house and what not, and I’ll talk with them but that’s it.

...it is very lonely.

I’m sorry.

Don’t apologize, at least I have you :)

~.~

“Where did you go this time?”

Kristoff grunts as he lifts a block from the sled, “Just on the other side of the North Mountain.”

“Isf tfhat a flongf ftrip?” Anna asks, mouth full of apple.

“Can’t hear you with your mouth full Princess.”

Anna swallows, watching Kristoff come up the stairs, “Is that a long trip?”

She saw him shrug ever so, “Not really. A day trip if anything. Sven gets us back pretty quickly.”

Anna turns to the reindeer, who raises his head ever so as if in pride. “You’re the best Sven.” She calls with a smile. The reindeer looks at her then, and Anna giggles as he shook his head at somewhat a thanks.

“Yeah, don’t hype him up too much.” Kristoff says, coming back down the stairs, “He’s still a great pain in the ass.”

“So mean to him, honestly.” Anna says. She moves then, heading down the stairs to stand beside Sven. “You’re a good boy Sven, don’t let him say otherwise.” Anna says, feeding him the rest of her apple.

“You act like I treat him horribly.”

“I never said anything of the sort.” Anna looks back in time to see him roll his eyes as he picks up another block.

“I just don’t baby him, like you.”

“I don’t baby him. I just show him love and appreciation, unlike someone.”

He ignores her then, heading into the kitchen once more. Anna huffs a laugh, turning back to Sven, “He’s such a stinker.”

She could swear the reindeer nods in agreement.

“You need to work on your whispering.” Kristoff calls, coming back out.

“I wasn’t whispering! If anything, you need to work on your niceness.”

“I’m nice enough.”

“Says who?”

“Me, and that’s all the approval I need.”

Anna rolls her eyes, leaning gently back against Sven as she crosses her arms, “So full of yourself, honestly. No wonder you're so big, you're filled with your own ego.”

Kristoff pauses, hands around another block, but only for a second as he moves before Anna can really take notice. “You make me sound like an ass.”

“Well…” Anna teases, seeing him eye her as he turns with the block of ice in hand. She laughs then at the annoyed look on his face, “You’re not an ass, Kristoff or I wouldn’t come see you every time you visit.”

“Oh, if that’s the case, let me start being one now then.”

He laughs as he goes back up the stairs, Anna scoffing at him as he goes.

~.~

I’d really do nothing all day if not for my lessons. Even then, I hardly do anything in them as it is. I don’t recall anything the tutor told me and they know it too. I get berated for it all the time.

That’s great you get to have that though. I know nothing about anything.

Not true! You know about harvesting and mountain climbing and mountains and how a business works.

I can tell you the history of the last war, like that is even helpful.

I don’t even know when the last war was so you have me beat there at least. I’ll say that’s a good thing.

I suppose, but it’s nothing very helpful.

~.~

Dinner was in a few hours, which meant she had most of the afternoon to herself now that her lessons were over.

With that, Anna ventures out to the castle grounds. She roams idly at first, walking slowly through the gardens, letting her hands brush across the tops of the blooming flowers around her.

Her true destination is a bit farther off, the one corner of the castle not in view of any windows or guards just in her sight.

She looks back slowly, to not raise suspicion if anyone was watching her.

No one was, no one ever was.

She moves quickly then, coming to the corner and wastes no time beginning the climb up the corner wall. The climb has become second nature to her, she hasn’t second guessed a step in years.

For a brief moment, she sits on top of the wall, looking out onto the castle grounds. It’s a pretty site, but it’s not the one she longs for. Then she turns herself away from the castle, and pushes herself off the wall. She lands with a soft thud.

The birds seem to chirp louder here, seemingly welcoming her back to their home. Anna smiles as she begins the familiar walk, making sure to walk slow enough to enjoy the peace around her as she always did.

~.~

There is just something about it, it’s the only place I feel...happy most days. It’s so peaceful, just the noise of the birds chirping, the breeze blowing the leaves of the trees. Sometimes there are deer too! I saw one just the other day on my way up here.

For once I just, I feel at peace, all my worries forgotten back home while I’m here. I know it sounds crazy, but it’s the truth.

No, you’re not crazy. I feel it too. In the mountains, at my cabin, it’s my escape from everything. It’s an odd sense of peace. Well, not odd, it’s comforting. Just an overwhelming feel of comfort, like you’re covered in a fur blanket.

~.~

There was a part of her that wants to sprint to the tree, knowing that a response awaits her there. It has been two days since her letter was taken, her last one had contained some slips of poems inside.

K had been curious after she had written a line from one of her recent reads into one of her letters. Wanting to know some of her favorite poems that she knew, he’d asked her to send some to him.

She’d been self conscious when she’d placed the envelope in the tree. She worried that she’d gone a bit overboard, providing pages upon pages of poems she loved and adored. So many in fact, the envelope struggled to contain the bits of parchment inside and she had to tie a piece of twine around it to keep it closed.

She worried for nothing though as when she’d returned the next day, the whole thing was gone. As expected really.

It has been 3 years, and K never once failed to reply to her letters. It only took 2 of those years for Anna to fall completely and deeply in love with him.

The realization had scared her more than relieved her. To be in love with someone she’d never met nor knew their true name, but it was real and true. Over hundreds if not thousands of letters, discussing their fears, encouraging each other, comforting them when needed and, sometimes, venting their anger and frustrations, proved that it was real.

He’d been there more than anyone else had been these last few years, more than her own blood, and yet she had no idea who he was.

He was just K, but that was enough for Anna and more than enough for her to fall for him.

~.~

I must tell you something, and please be truthful with me. It will seem crazy and I must know that you will not judge me for how I feel.

I would never do that and you know it. But I promise all the same to not judge your feelings. Is everything ok?

I must confess something I’ve been holding back for a long time, trying to make sense of but finally realized what it was I was feeling. I know now that, though I have never met you and don’t even know your name….

I love you.

I am so sorry to have delayed my response for so long. I did not mean to leave you waiting, I was called away for a harvesting trip that lasted longer than expected. Two days turned into a full week. A story for another time.

To answer your letter:

I have a confession as well. I have also found myself in love with someone I can not give a face to. The only thing I know are the color of your eyes, a blue that I wish to lose myself in.

A, though I also do not know your name, I have also found myself completely, and helplessly, in love with you. I love you too, with all I have.

~.~

Anna could just see the large Oak peaking through the forest. Nerves and excitement getting the best of her, she bites her lip, gathers her skirt, and sprints the rest of the way.

Her excited laugh seemed to echo around her as she came up to the tree, heard by no one but the creatures within the forest.

She doesn’t hesitate to stick her hand into the hole, laughing once more when she felt the familiar feel of parchment between her fingers.

Her smile is so wide, her cheeks burn as she looks at the letter in her hand. A single “A” scratched in his handwriting on top of the envelope.

These letters had become a staple in her dull life, so had K more importantly. There had been a few times she’d thought of hiding in the forest, to wait and see who K could be.

~.~

Why don’t you?

Honestly?...I’m scared. I don’t want to ruin such a beautiful, great thing by ruining the mystery behind it.

Do you think you’ll ever want to meet someday? No pressure at all but, I would like to meet the person I’ve written for over two years now.

I want to, someday, when I work up the nerve. I just don’t want you to be disappointed.

Why would I be disappointed?

That I don’t turn out to be the girl you imagined in your head. That I’m...I’m not who you were expecting and regret it ever happening.

The only person I expect is A, and from the years of letters we’ve shared, I doubt anything could make me disappointed or want to regret meeting you. Ever.

Are you sure? You’re not saying that just to be sweet.

I promise you, when we finally meet, I will not be at all disappointed. There is no way in hell I’d regret this. The moment I meet you, I will hug you tightly, never letting go. If anything, I’m nervous. I also don’t want you to be disappointed in who I may be.

If you promise, then I promise too. The day we meet will be a moment I cherish forever.

I love you.

I love you too.

~.~

Her hands shake as she opens the letter, smiling at the familiar handwriting gracing along the parchment.

Anna sits against the tree trunk, pulling her knees up to her chest. With a sigh, now comfortable in her normal spot, she begins to read:

A,

Wow, you weren’t kidding when you said you had many favorites.

They were really pretty, and simple too which kind of surprised me. I always expected poems to be this intricate, wordy thing that were hard to get but not the ones you sent. No wonder you love these.

They were good to read during my last trip. Helped pass the time more quickly.

Meant to tell you during my last letter, word in the village is that Sarah, the one who runs the dress shop, was spotted chatting with George late into the evening. He didn’t leave her shop till the sun was completely down.

Everyone says chatting but, between you and me, they weren’t just chatting. He was in there for ages apparently. Good for them really. They deserve some happiness.

I hope your lessons went well today. Don’t let your french tutor get to you. I have yet to meet someone with perfect french and I work in the village itself. I’m sure you’re doing just fine.

Hope I’m not being too forward, but as I read the poems, I imagined you reading them aloud. It was a comfort, even if I have never heard your voice before.

You mentioned meeting soon...I want to too. No pressure on when, I don’t want to force you to do anything you don’t want but, I would like to finally meet you. To give you the hug I’ve been wanting to give you for a long time, hold you in my arms for even just a moment.

I think, if you are ready to meet, then so am I. Just say when, I’ll be there.

With all my love,

K

Anna reads and rereads the letter again, taking in every word he wrote.

She clutches it to her chest as she looks out onto the fjord below. It’s crazy, she thinks, how someone she’s never met has impacted her so greatly. Not crazy, no, a wonder in and of itself.

A surprise blessing that she was lucky to have.

Soon, she thinks, as she watches the sunset, she will finally have a name and face to the letters

She wonders if she will know him, if she will recognize him as someone she’s seen by happenstance in passing or a complete stranger she’s never met. There is a small chance she’ll know him as she has hardly ever ventured outside of the castle, so she settles on the idea of the latter.

Which, in hindsight, suits her just fine. Rather it be someone completely new.

Still, as she makes her way back to the castle, the lanterns slowly being lit throughout the village, a small bubble of fear sits deep in her chest.

He doesn’t know her title. He knows everything else, down to the color of her room, but Anna has yet to share that one tiny detail. She never mentioned what she did, where she lived, or her family's name. He just seemed to assume it was some nice, comfortable family in the town.

She wonders, then, if he really will respond as he had promised so long ago. With open arms, a tight hug full of love and comfort he’d been wanting to share with her for years now. Or would he deny her, turn and flee the moment he realized who she is.

Though K has promised, on many occasions, that it won’t happen she still fears it will. He doesn’t know, won’t know till they meet her true identity and she knows it’s unfair to spring such an important detail on him in such a manner but she can’t bear to write in a letter “you must know, I’m the princess of Arendelle, second to the throne.”

Even in her own head it sounds utterly ridiculous.

It’s time though, she thinks at dinner, twirling her spoon in her soup as she sits alone at the table tonight. Three years have passed and she is surprised she’s held back this long. If not for the fear, it would’ve happened long ago.

She almost thinks of telling him no, of just breaking it all together and not replying. Leaving him in the dark, but that thought makes her heart hurt at the idea of him somewhere wondering why. Thinking, wondering what he had done wrong for her to go silent and she can’t do that to him.

She owes him this, princess or not, he must know who he has shared years of letters with. Who he has spilled his heart and soul to, and her as well.

Anna decides then, as she nestles deep into her covers, pulling the letter out from her drawer to reread in the firelight, that she will meet him. Despite the fear, the guilt, the unknown of it all, she will do it. She will finally put a face and a name to her K, her love, the one person in her world that gets her.

Soon, she thinks, as she drifts off to sleep as she holds his letter close to her chest, very soon.

[rigelmejo]

random thoughts:

i want to do a guardian print novels comparison lol.

i have a simplified edition which in some ways is excellent: it has the kunlun prequel text, all of the extras, the chapters are edited in a way that clearly indicates priest polished it up to make the story ‘better’ (priest changed chapter 1 from Guo Changcheng seeing a random guy with no legs to Zhu Hong’s tail and fainting, adds details to a lot of chapters). The only thing its missing is the explicit sex scene (I think - it might even have it for all i know, but i’m guessing not since that’s usually cut out of simplified print novels i think?). But like in general - my simplified chinese Guardian novel seems to be the most complete version of the novel as far as final edits/extras. This isn’t necessarily the link I bought from, but this is the simplified print version I have (aliexpress does have a lot of priest books for sale).

I just got the traditional character version of the books (which is so beautiful WOW the covers and inside looks so nice). So far, its chapter content is more like the webnovel (so no scene edits/details added like my simplified version, no Kunlun prequel). There are a few edits of wording on small things (suddenly versus abruptly, next/then, that kind of thing). I don’t think it has any of the extras, so its not the original traditional published version with the shen san extra (i thought it was?). So upside is my simplified copy does seem to be the most complete, and the traditional one i have matches the webnovel most if i wanted to compare differences. Downside is i’m surprised the traditional version has so little content? This is the traditional print versions I bought, volume 1 and volume 2. That site can be ordered from in english, worldwide.

feeling the urge to do something with japanese again but i don’t know what. logically, doing nukemarines memrise decks is... probs the most effective thing to do. i don’t feel like doing flashcards though.

i kind of feel like listening to japanese core 6k or japaneseaudiolessons, just because i can just play them in the background (easier mentally than flashcards). maybe reading japanese audio lessons basically textbook - but that’s if i feel like reading? 

also just kind of. feel like playing a video game - maybe kh2 since i know the game well enough i can still ‘speed play’ if i don’t want to slow down and read everything on screen (whereas persona 3 and crisis core took 1 hour to get to save points since i had to slow down and read everything). i read some scripts yesterday in japanese... and watched some shows yesterday (though that hardly counts since they had eng subs). my mind just wants to ‘do’ things, not really do flashcards lol. so like? listening, watching, playing - my brain thinks it sounds fun! but reading lessons/doing flashcard drilling of study materials, i feel tired lol...

i also kind of. just want to do some challenge for myself like: do clozemaster japanese for 1 month and see how much i get through/how much i improve? or do japaneseaudiolessons for 1 month and see how far i get etc.

chinese wise: i officially re-did all 12 chapters of Guardian with Listening Reading Method step 2 with the other audiobook by wheat. Now I’m officially on a new chapter 13, with avenuex’s audiobook, and going back to doing step 2 AND step 3 (for vocab). Again, as SOON as i switch to avenuex its easier to follow what’s going on without looking things up - i think part of it is the way she narrates sort of... slows down and speeds up depending on the emphasis in the sentence? so its easier to catch exactly what’s key info/characters interacting versus description. and also her voices for everyone are more different, and she edited in guardian drama music so a lot of the scenes i bet have some ‘ingrained’ memory from when i watched the show helping me recognize the scene that’s going on. i imagine for ‘comprehensible input’ this version just has a lot more i ‘get.’ also just in general i love her audiobook ToT. 

though wheat’s is really nice! i like wheat’s voice and would love to talk like them. For shadowing, I find wheats is really good because the audio is mainly just voice, and a deeper voice (which i both would rather sound like and find easier to identify the words clearly as far as for repeating), and all an even speaking speed except dialogue - so i can repeat after what wheat says in small phrase bursts without falling behind too much. So for listening in the background, more general listening practice, and for shadowing practice i plan to use wheat’s more. 

while step 3 is more focus intensive, i think doing it once minimizes how many words i have to look up in step 2 and how many times i feel step 2 would benefit me. when i skip step 3 i feel like i could do step 2 for 3-4 times and keep picking up a lot of new words. so to speed up progress, probably just going to do step 3 then step 2 again (or step 2 then 3 we’ll see).

L-R method has really helped my vocab for guardian ToT i have no problem reading the traditional version now. i also have far less trouble reading new chapters for the first time (still have words i need to look up, just its not enough to prevent me from following the main idea and details). I’m really glad I decided to try L-R method with guardian. I’m really excited how this is going to affect reading other priest novels later (or L-R tian ya ke, sha po lang, mo du). Because i can already notice it making Mo Du a bit easier. and i’m only 13 chapters in out of 100+ plus extras. I notice it makes reading and listening skills better. I don’t know about its claim from some of “from A1 to B1″ in 30 hours (which is what someone did with Italian, with some previous romance language study). Because I was probably like a A2 or weak B1 when I started trying this? (Idk I was like HSK4 with a smattering of extra passive knowledge that didn’t line up to HSK 5-6 exactly, so i could read Xiao Wangzi and watch Shan He Ling etc but only knew like half the words on HSK 5-6). So I don’t know if for a beginner, if L-R method for chinese would get them very far, or how many hours it would take. I’d say for a beginner-intermediate learner though, it will boost your listening level quickly (vocab a bit slower but i do notice progress now). And since listening level can fall behind reading, that’s a nice thing. 

I read about someone who’d done L-R for mandarin for 300 hours though with less progress made though and i’m still curious why. Because i’ve done about maybe 30 hours and seen a lot more - idk if just having a base in chinese first helps a lot (like i got the 300+ hours basic learning done before i even tried L-R method and they just need to get through their hours to hit milestones too), or if they do something different. But given that experience, i do think if L-R isn’t giving small noticeable progress at least every 5 hours or so (and reasonably noticeable progress like easier listening comprehension of previously studied chapters or learned some handfuls of new words in 10 hours) then it makes sense to switch it up or try something else. like for me - switching to a literal word for word text using pleco dictation-translate tool has been much more effective. i would guess in part because its word for word so i don’t have to put in mental effort to re-arrange sentence grammar to the words i’m hearing in the audio (but more effort to know chinese grammar so not as helpful as a beginner in some ways unless u understand the story beforehand with step 1 reading the text in a language u understand). and in part because it keeps my translation synced to the audio so i don’t lose my place, can replay portions, and don’t therefore waste time being as mentally drained or confused. and doing step 2 in pleco (or anything with a quick click dictionary) so i can see some definitions with step 2.

still kind of want to just binge the videos on “learn korean in korean” youtube channel. he just makes such good lessons even though i’m not really studying korean. 

also... mmm... korean clozemaster... mmm (i would probably learn nothing because translations do not tend to be literal for many asian languages on there so chinese and japanese only work for me cause i know enough words/grammar already to catch when things are not literal/outright wrong)

[knittingdreams]

Fireheart - Chapter 3

I think I might be uploading this daily until I catch up with the chapters I have up on Ao3, so I hope this updates don’t annoy anybody! xD

If you haven’t read the previous chapters, here they are!

Chapter 1 - Returning to the living

Chapter 2 - Infiltrating the 24th floor

CHAPTER 3

A hell of an entrance

Sam Cortland was early to school on the second day of classes, as he wanted to get a feel of what people were thinking, what the mood was and what people’s patterns were. He knew Celaena had been around the premises multiple times before the term had started, but he hadn’t expected to be joining her until only a few days ago. Arobynn had approached him a week before and threatened him in a way that made him comply with being his spy. He hated it, but he didn’t really have any other viable options.

He was sitting on a bench by the entrance waiting for the bell to ring and watching people come and go. A few of the girls had approached him and said hello, some had even asked which classes he was attending and tried to flirt a bit. Reality was that he wasn’t interested in any of them, and he didn’t have time for romance anyway, he was technically at work. He had been polite and nice to each of them regardless, because he had an image he wanted to portrait. He wanted to be the good guy that everybody could count on, the one they’d trust with their secrets.

The loud rumble of an engine and the sound of squealing tires took him out of his daydream, and he looked up, his brows shooting up in surprise.

“So much for being one more in the crowd,” Sam muttered under his breath.

Right in front of the entrance’s stairs he saw a black motorcycle that had just parked up. The bike’s sinuous and seductive lines were perfectly in harmony with the curves of the girl that was getting off it. It was a sight he was used to, at least under different circumstances. The whole crowd had turned their heads around, and everybody was already whispering, watching the girl jumping off the bike. 

Sam had to give her credit, Celaena did look fantastic as she jumped down, lifting her flexible and long leg high up and giving the whole school a pretty decent view of her inner thighs. She stood next to the bike for a second, probably making sure that there were enough eyes on her before she took the black helmet off, shaking her blond hair around and then brushing it back with a hand. 

“Wow, who’s that?” A girl whispered next to him. 

“What a slut,” another one murmured under her breath, Sam barely heard her as she walked past him.

“You gotta be shitting me,” he heard Dorian Havilliard say as he elbowed the guy next to him, which Sam was pretty sure was the president of the student’s council.

“What is it?” The brunette guy asked.

“That girl, she’s staying at my family's hotel,” he replied.

“Celaena, the new exchange student?” The president asked, furrowing his brows.

“Yes, I ran into her in the lobby yesterday, I can’t believe I didn’t notice her at school!” Dorian said, and then the pair started slowly walking towards Celaena, as if wanting to watch her from closer.

Sam hid his smile behind a hand, pretending that he was coughing. He wasn’t surprised at all that Celaena had managed to run into him on her first night at the hotel; she was amazing at what she did. Cunning came to her almost as second nature.

Almost, because it hadn’t always been like that and Sam could still remember the broken girl that had shown up lying limp on Arobynn’s arms all those years ago.

“Who’s that?” Sam had asked, standing on his tiptoes to look at the girl’s face.

Her coat had been dripping water over in the foyer as Arobynn walked towards the staircase.

“Her?” He had asked disparagingly, “She’s my lottery ticket,” he had said as he quickly walked up the stairs.

Sam could still remember the hushed whispers around the mansion on those first days, the planning and plotting. Arobynn had wanted to get a ransom for the girl, but had finally concluded that it was most likely that she was wanted dead, so it would be a safer bet to use the girl until things were certain; until he came up with a better plan.

Weeks had led into months, and months into years, and the girl had stayed. Arobynn had trained her, and she had slowly come out of her shell, proving to be strong, ferocious and sassy. Damn, she could be so sassy, Sam thought. Him and Celaena had clashed so much during the years, and had gone from being strangers, to almost friends, to enemies, and all the way to lovers for the one quick peck that had been both of their first kiss. 

Sam chuckled at the memory, Celaena had been so annoying that day. They were probably around 12 years old, and Sam had wanted for her to shut up so badly, that he had kissed her once, pressing his lips hard against hers. 

He had ended up with a black eye for it.

“What happened with being inconspicuous?” he asked his female counterpart as she walked past him. He joined her pace, quickly walking by her side.

“That was never my plan,” she hissed under her breath. “Now piss off, I don’t want anybody to see us talking,” she said as she sped up and walked through the front doors, letting them slam closed behind her back.

“Noted,” he murmured, slowing down and taking a peaceful pace while nodding happily at all the girls that grinned at him. 

He made his way to his locker and grabbed a few books, slowly stacking them in his arms as he tried to catch anything from the few conversations around him. It looked like the whole school was talking about Celaena’s entrance. The girls were a bit upset about the new competition, and every single guy sounded like he wanted to get under her skirt.

He shook his head, and made his way to homeroom. 

The day went by without any more major events. He went from class to class, only running into Celaena in one of them. The talk about her dramatic entrance had subdued by then, but he could still hear whispers about it here and there, most of the guys were focusing on her ride now, instead of dribbling over the image of her. 

There was one reaction that he was eager to hear about, and it was the one from the only student he thought he hadn't run into that day. He had tried to join as many advanced classes as he could, but he wasn’t as literate and smart as Celaena was, hence why he had had to join the school as a junior and only had a few advanced lessons. 

He found the guy he was looking for during the lunch hour, and he made sure to sit at a table close enough to eavesdrop. Aedion was sitting with all the jocks, as it was to expect. It must have been practice day, because instead of wearing his classic uniform, he was wearing a black polo, the number 15 written on big yellow letters on his back. He hadn’t even taken off his captain band, which gripped his bicep tightly as his arm flexed when he rested his head on a fist.

Aedion was talking with a few other players, a huge grin on his face showing all his perfectly white teeth. Sam watched as his eyes shot up when someone called his name, and a tall curvy girl with dark brown hair cascading up to her waist walked over to him. She wrapped her arms around the captain’s neck, gave him a quick peck on the lips and then sat on his lap. Sam wasn’t surprised to see that she was wearing the cheerleader’s outfit. There was an elegant look in the way her bare pale legs were crossed at the ankles in a careful manner.

He was close enough to hear most of their conversation, so he leaned closer not to miss any words.

“Hi honey, how was cheerleading practice?” Aedion asked as he played with a strand of the girl’s hair.

“Not bad, the squad was a bit distracted though,” she said, sounding mildly annoyed.

“Why was that?” Aedion asked, his bright turquoise eyes looking up at her, seeming genuinely confused.

“That new girl, she has them all a bit crazy. Apparently she made a big entrance this morning, but I missed it because I was talking with the coach, did you catch her?” the girl asked, sounding curious to see her boyfriend’s reaction.

“Oh, I was a bit far, but I did see her. Her ride is actually a piece of art,” he said.

Sam had to cover his mouth to hide his chuckle for the second time that day. The guy was good, he knew how to deflect the conversation not to make his girlfriend jealous. Sam was genuinely impressed.

“Lysandra!” A blond girl called as she rushed over to Aedion’s girlfriend.

“What’s the matter?” She asked, turning around and letting Sam get a full view of her big and beautiful emerald green eyes. 

“Sorry hun, coach needs a word with you, would you mind going back to the gymnasium?” The two girls left in a hurry and Sam’s eyes trailing after them.

“She’s so taken, mate,” a skinny guy sitting next to Sam said as he elbowed him playfully. “I recommend you to be careful, Aedion won’t like it if he catches you staring,” he said in a low voice, as if to make sure that the next table over wouldn’t hear them.

Sam thanked him for the advice, and kept on eating his lunch. He spotted Celaena on the opposite side of the cafeteria then, and followed her gaze to see what she was looking at so intently. Her eyes were fixed on a table not far away from him, and Sam noticed Dorian Havillard sitting there with the same brunette guy from before. So far, those two seemed to go together everywhere. They were talking and elbowing each other, their eyes on the blond girl that was eyeing them shamelessly.

It looked to him like Celaena wasn’t wasting any time; she was hunting, and only for a second, he felt sorry for her prey. 

----

Hope you enjoyed this! You know you can always read more on Ao3, read some of my originals on Wattpad, or even find me on Instagram for some bookstagram galore and random texts/poems/updates on my writing! :D

Here’s my take on stunning, gorgeous, love of my life... Aedion Ashryver xD 

[lovemesomesurveys]

1. What plans do you have for the weekend?  Same things I do everyday.

2. What were you doing at 10:30 this morning?  It’s only 5:29AM. Hopefully, I’ll be asleep by then.

3. Tell me about the last conversation you had with someone you find attractive. What did you talk about?  I don’t remember, it’s been a few years.

4. Do you chew your pens?  No.

5. Have you ever made notes in a lesson, then looked back at them and found you couldn’t understand what they meant?  It happened sometimes. 

6. Which do you like best - History or Geography? Why?  >> History. I find humans more interesting than landmasses, I guess. <<< lol exactly.

7. How many pets do you have?  What are their names?  I have a doggo named Princess Leia.

8. Who was the last person you had a weird, funny, or random conversation with?  My brother.

9. Are you upset about anything atm?  I’m annoyed that I stayed up even later than I normally do yesterday so I could make sure I was up when my doctor’s office opened and call them first thing. I ended up waiting for over an hour on hold before just finally hanging up. I have a hard time getting through to them every month, it’s super frustrating. Anyway, I attempted sleep after that and only got about 2 hours (somehow I’ve been up since then, which was about 1230ish in the afternoon, and it’s now 5:37AM...). I tried calling later after I got up, but had no luck, so here I am waiting for them to open again. D: It’s for my prescription refill for my medicine that I’m almost out of, which is important, so that’s why I’m doing this.

10. Think back to March 2012. Who were you in a relationship with?  Joseph and I had our thing going on.

11. Is there anything that’s happened recently, that you wish had turned out differently?  Yes.

12. Who was the last person of the opposite sex that you talked to on the phone?  My dad.

13. Are you blood related to the last person you hugged?  Yes.

14. Is there something you do on a regular basis, that you don’t enjoy doing? Why?  Simple mundane tasks because even those take a lot of energy that I don’t have, so it takes a lot for me to do and it’s not enjoyable. Even eating can feel like a chore at times.

15. Do you have any Mariah Carey, Whitney Houston or Celine Dion songs on your iPod?  Actually, I don’t have any songs by any of them on my Spotify. :O

16. Have you ever felt jealous of anyone else’s success?  I’m happy for other peoples’ success, I want people to succeed. I do feel envious at times, though. 

17. Who did you last speak to in person?  My mom and brother.

18. Have you ever had a one-night stand? If you have, did you regret it afterwards?  No, I haven’t. 

19. Have you ever done something that you said you’d NEVER do?  Yes.

20. What was the last thing you asked for help with? Who did you go to for help?  I asked my brother to get me a bowl from the cabinet last night cause I couldn’t reach it.

21. Do you think it’s possible to love someone after being in a relationship for only a short amount of time?  Sure, but I personally haven’t experienced that. I fell fast and hard for people, but love took some time.

22. Who was the last person to text you? If you were gone tomorrow, how much do you think that person would miss you? My mom. I know she would miss me a lot.

23. If your significant other had several other sexual partners before you, how much would that bother you? Would you worry about being compared to the others? How many previous sexual partners do you think is acceptable?  As an almost 31 year old with no sexual experience and no change in that in sight, I’m going to assume that whomever I end up dating (IF I ever find anyone) will have been with other people. Especially the older I get. And I don’t have a problem with that. I would expect him to have a life before me lol. I certainly wouldn’t be surprised if he’s had other sexual partners, I would expect that. I wouldn’t find it necessary to know how many, though. All I would care about is our relationship and our life together going forward. That being said, I would most definitely feel self-conscious and inadequate because of my inexperience. I would worry about being compared. 

24. Who was the last person of the opposite sex to send you a message on Facebook? What if you had a baby with that person?  Uh, NOOOO. My older brother was the last person of the opposite sex to message me on Facebook.

25. Who were the last girl and the last guy to facebook message you? What if these two people had a baby together?  My aunt and my brother, again NOOOO.

26. How many people of your preferred sex have hurt you?  Two.

27. Have your friends ever talked to you about the forms of contraception they use? What form of contraception do you prefer?  My former best friend talked about that quite a bit. I’ve never been on any type of birth control, so I don’t have a preference. 

28. Has the last person you hugged ever made you cry?  Yes.

29. When was the last time you ate chocolate?  I had brownies like a week ago.

30. Do you like Charles Dickens novels?  Gotta love A Christmas Carol.

31. If you told your parents that you were going to be a parent, how do you think they would react?  I can’t get pregnant and I don’t want to have kids, so.

32. You find out that the person you love/like is having a child with someone else. What do you say?  I don’t like/love anyone in that way.

33. When was the last time you said something and thought “Why the hell did I say that?” What exactly did you say, and who did you say it to? How did the person react?  I do that often. I just overanalyze every little thing and dwell on things like that. 

34. Who was the last person outside of family that told you they loved you? No one outside of my family has said that in a very long time.

35. Who is your 4th Facebook message from? Have you ever hugged/kissed that person? My aunt and yes.

36. Did someone/something upset you today?  Like I said earlier, I’m just annoyed about having to wait up again to call my doctor and who knows if I’ll even  get through to anyone today. I have this feeling that they’re not having regular hours right now despite what their automated message thing says when I call. If that’s the case, it would be nice if they could update that. 37. What song reminds you of your first boyfriend/girlfriend?  lol what comes to mind is Jay’s Rap from Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back cause it was his favorite bit from one of his favorite movies, he used to say it all the time. “Fifteen bucks little man, put that shit in my hand. If that money doesn’t show, then you owe me, owe me, owe.” I’ve never even seen those movies, but I still remember that.

38. Outside of family, who were the last 3 girls you talked to?  A couple of my nurses and Elisabeth.

39. Outside of family, who were the last 3 guys you talked to?  Lane is the only guy outside of my family that I’ve talked to in a long time.

40. Who was the last person of the same sex to text you? How much do you know about the love life/sex life of that person?  My mom. She’s told me about a couple boyfriends she had when she was in high school and then of course I know about my dad cause they’ve been together my whole life (a couple years before that even). She certainly doesn’t talk to me about her sex life and I definitely don’t want to know haha. 

41. Who is/was your strictest teacher in school?  I had 2 really awful math professors at the community college I attended. 

42. Have you ever felt so ill that you literally didn’t know what to do?  Yes, I’ve felt that way a lot.

43. Do you know all the words to the last song you listened to? Would you sing that song on karaoke? I forget what the last song I listened to was at the moment.

[mittensmorgul]

Re: "the shattering of their very concept of free will, the purpose of their entire lives" -- did we get foreshadowing of this in 13.16? Maybe soon we'll see Dean bangiing his head on a tree, growling, "We've been stopping vampires and demons when we could've been hunting God? Are you kidding me? My life is meaningless!"

omg I was like... wait did I write that? I found the reply I typed up yesterday where I wrote that, though, so apparently I did :’D

https://mittensmorgul.tumblr.com/post/188284521260/i-kinda-feel-like-the-deancas-tension-in-the

(in my defense, I spent the next 6 hours afterward or so making the transcript of the episode, so now my brain has been squished dry and is back to WHAT R WERDS?! mode again, having been drained of all coherency) :D

BUT OMG that’s a WONDERFUL observation! I mean, Scoobynatural was the sort of in-universe wall-break I think a lot of us would LOVE to get. I know I would personally love to travel to the SPN universe and sit each of them down and tell them a few things, you know? I mean, I literally wrote 143k words of fic about it after s10. Obviously a lot has changed since then, but the main point of it stands, and was the foundation concept of Scoobynatural, too.

If you could go into a fictional world and interact with your favorite characters, what would you tell them? How would they react? How would YOU react in THEIR world? (and the first part of that fic is how would THEY react in YOURS, too)

I think we did get a bit of Dean metaphorically banging his head on a tree over feeling like his life was meaningless, with the whole maze concept:

Dean: Just when we thought we had a choice. You know, whenever we thought we had free will. We were just rats in a maze. Sure, we could go left. Sure, we could go right. But we were still in the damn maze. Just makes you think, if all of it... you know, everything that we've done... What did it even mean?

(also, high five to Last Night Me for finishing the transcript so I have something to easily quote now) :D

I think this is Dean’s version of the head-banging-on-a-tree existential crisis, since he’s not actually a cartoon character. Because just like the Scoobies, they may have questioned the greater meaning of their lives on learning about something apparently much bigger than them, but they were all MORE than happy to slide right back into their previous beliefs and understanding at the end of the episode, too. They WANTED to go back to hunting bad guys in rubber masks, because they legit DID help people that way, and the notion of fighting against something wildly more powerful had broken them. Literally and metaphorically.

It reminds me of Dean’s comment going all the way back to early days of things being “above their pay grade,” or just “this is big” when it came to things like Specky the Wonderdemon in 1.04. Remember when the question of “what happens after death” was “way beyond our pay grade?” (it was 2.16) I think they’ve leveled up to the top pay grade at this point, you know? I think Dean would gladly opt for retirement from Chuck’s regular lineup of viewing entertainment, if it didn’t mean letting the whole planet burn in the process.

But even INSIDE their own universe, Sam and Dean and Cas ARE “fictional characters.” At least, to the readers of the Supernatural novels, they are. And in their world, words like that have power, too. “Tearing up the script,” “making it up as we go,” “rewriting the ending”-- all of these things have been the core of what they’ve been about all along. I think Chuck likes to forget those features of the “characters” he “created.” He made them into what they are, by teaching them how to run his mazes and finding it interesting when they managed to escape so many times, you know? And he might be able to lay down new mazes, but he’s not as heckin’ creative as he thinks he is.

Omg, you know how I see Chuck-As-Author now? Like some punk-ass jerk who hates that some folks are able to see the end coming, hates that his characters are able to spot the escape hatch in his stories, and out of spite wrote a “twist they never saw coming” that only he knows the rules for. But it’s too late, you know? TFW... they’re the endgame everyone is rooting for. Like Metatron trying to set Cas up as the villain but ended up proving his own villainy in the process. Like Zachariah confidently arranging “lessons” for Dean only for Dean to learn the opposite lesson to the one he tried to teach. Same with Gabriel and his lessons to TFW that backfired completely.

Chuck made the mistake, at the very start, of writing Sam and Dean as the heroes. And they’re more than capable of filling those roles, even at the end when Chuck thinks he’s got a different plan for them.

If it’s not clear, I absolute ADORE this thematic aspect of the entire series. :D

*shuts up before I end up talking about this all day*

[presleepthoughts]

How about a spider Beca au? For bechloe?

I literally have had this draft on my computer for over a year now. Didn’t plan on releasing it until I completed it but if you’d like to read it, here it is 😬😀

I planned this to be multi-chapter fanfic so there’s not much Bechloe in the first chapter so excuse me 😂 

If you don’t like it, we can just pretend it never happened. 

but if you are interested in more, just let me know and I’ll show you the rest.

Powerless - Chapter 1

Sheflexed her muscles trying to break out of the straps that trapped her limbsdown on the bed. A middle-age man stood beside her in a white lab coat with aneedle in his hand filled with blue liquid. Beca’s eyes widened in panic and fearas she struggled to fight for her freedom. She couldn’t go through this again.This was the fifth time this week.

“Subjectis ready for the injection. Third attempt. 5-milliliter dosage.” He listed hisactions as he grabbed Beca’s IV tube and placed the needle inside, pushing theliquid into her veins.

Becapanted, preparing her body and mind for the virus to hit her immune system. Shefelt the pain slowly spread through her forearm all the way to the top of hershoulder and her body shot down. She started shaking violently, trashing backand forth as the venom spread through her body. Her body was rigid to the pointwhere she feared her spine was going to snap at any moment.

Unbearablepain attacked her heart and she let out a scream.

Thedoctor observed her reaction, ready to step in at any moment. “Her heart rate’sincreasing. Vitals are low.” He watched her heart monitor as it started to beepfrequently. “We’re losing her.”

Anautomatic voice rang through the room from the speakers. “Give it a minute.”

Thedoctor obeyed and stayed put. Beca felt tears sliding down her cheeks becauseof the pain that she was powerless to stop. Her eyes rolled back into her headas her body finally lost the battle and she fainted. Her heart monitor sloweddown to normal rate.

“Thirdattempt failed. Subject unconscious.”

Thedoor opened suddenly and another professor walked in. “Give me the chart.” Hedemanded and flipped through the pages, mumbling under his breath. “It’s stillmissing something. But what?”

Hesighed and took off his glasses, rubbing his eyes. “I need to go back to thelab. When is she gonna wake up? We need to keep trying.”

“Shecan’t take anymore. Her heart is going to fail and she’ll die. She needs therest.” The doctor said, releasing her wrists from the handcuffs. “Let’scontinue tomorrow when she’s recovered.”

“Fine.”The professor said nonchalantly and disappeared through the door.

Shewoke up in a white room the next morning, vision slightly blurred. She scannedaround her and glanced down her arm, finding three glowing red dots on herwrist. She sighed; she’ll have a hard time covering them up. It’s no wonder whyeverybody in school thought she was a drug addict.

Carefullysitting up, she grabbed her phone from the bedside table and checked the time.School started in an hour. She needed to get going if she wanted to be on time.

Shegathered her strength and pushed herself off the bed and immediately grabbedher stomach, feeling the nausea coming full force. She reached for the emptybucket placed beside her bed and dry heaved for a couple of minutes. She hadn’teaten since yesterday morning when she was whisked away to the lab.

Dr.Harris peaked his head through the door.

“CanI come in?”

Becagroaned in pain as another wave rolled through her body. The doctor took thatas a ‘yes’ and walked inside with a clipboard.

“Howare you feeling? Aside the nausea. Headaches? Pain in the limbs?” He scrabbleddown something on the paper, unconcerned about the girl on the floor.

“What’s– what’s happening?” Beca weekly coughed out, finally able to take a breath as herstomach relaxed.

“Yourimmune system is trying to reject the venom but it is too powerful. So, theonly other way to get rid of it is by vomiting. It’s natural. You should befine once every drop of toxic left your body.”

Becawanted to snicker and throw something at him but she opted to use that energyto stand up slowly. “How many times?” She asked exhaustedly.

Withoutany context the doctor understood her. “3. It wasn’t safe for us to continuewith the treatment.”

Us. Beca shook her head with alifeless smile. Like she wasn’t the one who almost died yesterday. “That mustbe a record.”

“Hesent me to examine you and determine when are you ready for the next trial.”

Becacollapsed down on the bed. “Great. Awesome. Can you hurry up because I have togo to school.”

Becahurried down the corridor as fast as her body allowed her. The check-up ranlater than she thought and she missed the school bus, making her walk fifteenminutes to the school. Normally it wouldn’t be a problem but she still felt theeffect of yesterday, heavily in her body.

Shetucked down her sweatshirt to cover her wrist and knocked on the classroomdoor. Mrs. Andrews looked at her pointedly but continued the lecture, allowingBeca to slip in the back row without a verbal confrontation. Dropping her bagon the ground, she pulled out a notepad and a pen, blinking rapidly to not fallasleep.

Aftercopping down everything on the board, Beca quickly became bored. Twirling thepen between her thumb and index finger, she looked around the classroom. It wasfilled with the almost entire football team, including the cheerleaders aswell. Beca saw two IT kids from the Tech Club and two lead singers in DramaClub. Front and center sat the cheerleader captain, Aubrey Posen and her secondin command Chloe Beale.

Becatilted her head in wonder.

WhileAubrey embodied every single stereotype of a cheerleader, Chloe was different. Becanoticed her talking to strangers nicely, treating everybody with respect andkindness.

“Ms.Mitchell, you were late and now you don’t even pay attention to the lesson.”Mrs. Andrews’ voice rang out loud, shocking Beca out of her thoughts.

“I’msorry, Mrs. Andrews. I’m listening.” Beca spoke out, shrinking in her seat asthe classroom turned to her. She briefly caught Chloe’s ocean blue eyes beforethe cheerleader turned back around.

“Wonderful.As I was saying…”

Afterthat Beca tuned out, slowly progressing to lay her head down on her desk. Shefought to keep her eyes open but were unable to and she fell asleep.

Theschool bell woke her up violently as she swung her head up and saw peoplegathering their stuff and leaving the classroom.

“Ms.Mitchell, a word please.” Mrs. Andrews’ were sitting at her desk, staring atBeca disapprovingly.

Fuck.

Staciewere waiting for her outside the room, leaning against the wall.

“Whattook you so long?” Stacie questioned, holding her books to her chest.

Becashowed her the pink note in her hands with the words DETENTION splattered onit. Stacie winced as they made their way to the next class that they shared.

“Ouch.What did you do? Mrs. Andrews is really cool usually. It’s hard to piss heroff.”

“Well,I succeeded apparently. I ran late, didn’t pay attention and to top it all off,I fell asleep.” Beca listed bitterly, coming up to her locker. “It’s a miracleshe didn’t send me to the principle.”

Thelast thing she needed was her father to be called in school. She shuddered justthinking about it.

“Whathappened yesterday that made you so tired?” Stacie’s mouth opened wide. “Didyou pick up some hot girl? Oh, tell me everything. I wanna hear all about it.With details.”

Becasnickered as she opened her locker and pulled her history book out. “Like Icould do that. Please. I’m the only lesbian in this school. Who would I pickup?”

“Justbecause they are not out, it doesn’t mean that there isn’t any girl to choosefrom. Believe me, you are not the only one. Plus, it’s a small town, noteverybody is as brave as you.” Stacie stated shrugging.

“Yousure do know a lot about closeted lesbians here. Are you trying to tell mesomething?” Beca smirked jokingly and Stacie rolled her eyes.

“Please,you know I fell in love with people. Not gender.”

Becalaughed. “How poetic of you.” She lifted her arm to grab the strap of her bagbut her sweatshirt shifted down, revealing the evidence of yesterday’s trial.Stacie’s eyes immediately zeroed on the three angry dots and she sucked in adeep breath.

“Whatare those?” Her tone was controlled as she pointed at Beca’s wrist.

Beca’seyes widen as she quickly lowered her arm, pulling the material down, hidingthe marks again.

“No- nothing. I – I just doodled on my hand. It’s ink.” Beca would’ve been proudof her quick thinking if Stacie’s expression hadn’t hardened. She didn’tbelieve her.  

“Don’tlie to me. Beca you said you weren’t doing that anymore! Are you stupid?”Stacie asked strongly, taking a step forward.

Becastepped back. “I’m not doing anything.” She said defensively. As the firstrumors started going around school that she was a drug addict, Beca hadn’tbother to come clean to Stacie. It was easier to let the girl believe thatthose marks came from herself when in reality he was the cause of them.  

“Itdoesn’t look like it! Beca, are you using again?” Stacie in her anger grabbedBeca by the shoulder, squeezing tightly, trapping the girl between herself andthe lockers.

Suddenly,Beca was back in the lab as the assistant strapped her down forcefully onto thehospital bed. No matter how hard she fought, he held her down strongly as hestabbed the needle in her arm and pushed the medicine that made her so woozy,she couldn’t tell from up and down.

Herbreathing picked up as her heart beat out of her chest. Acting on pure panic,she pushed Stacie away by her shoulders, watching as she stumbled backwardswith her eyes wide open in shock.

Bothfrozen to the spot, Beca was aware of the growing crowd around them, curiouslywaiting for something to happen, phone ready in hand to record. She pushed downthe tears threatening to escape and ran down the hall, away from prying eyes,away from Stacie and out the door.

[bradycore]

@anxiousprincedad I saw your post and..I wrote a thing

If anyone else writes this please tag me I would love to read it..I wrote this at one a.m. in under an hour it's not quality content

But anyway

---

Virgil lounges in his chair, examining his chipped black nails as he absorbs the interviewer's questions. He has to admit he doesn't like being on TV too much, but it can be fun to do these interviews, and play with the fans a bit--take now, for example, when he decides to finally respond to a much-asked question with a casual "Yeah, I'm in a relationship." He's not surprised when, the next day, his corner of social media is blowing up-- he's always been a fairly private person, regardless of the fact that one could consider him famous. Virgil could spend hours scrolling through this stuff-- it's like a conspiracy theory video but better because these theories about the mystery partner are so far from the truth it's funny-- but he's pulled away from the phone when, speak of the devil, Logan finally gets home from work. "Lots of papers to grade again?" "Yes, my apologies that I arrived home so late. I did manage to catch that interview on my lunch break, however." Virgil can feel himself internally melting at the quirked smile on his boyfriend's lips. Externally, he just walks over to the kitchen and pulls the nerd in for a kiss, simultaneously grabbing the coffee pot from behind Logan. "It's ten at night, set that down--" Virgil holds eye contact as he chugs the pot, still half full from the afternoon's batch, in defiance. Logan chooses to ignore this display of what their friend Roman would call, an "act of bravery, bordering on stupidity." "Are you ever going to actually say who I am?" "Wasn't planning to." They share a smile-- they prefer to keep their careers away from the secret, stress-free side of their lives, aka each other. *** It's the next week. Logan watches in amusement as his boyfriend collapses on the bed after a concert. "God, I'm tired," the rockstar says hoarsely. Logan brings over a mug of tea, knowing that while Virgil may need to live off of his caffeinated coffee, jasmine tea is the favored drink. He smiles at the appreciative gaze. "A student asked me today if I was a fan of you, she saw my phone wallpaper." "What did you say?" laughs Virgil. "I said 'Something like that.' Someday they'll know. Until then, I prefer to let them suffer in their blatant ignorance." "Speaking of people suffering in ignorance and confusion," Virgil pulls his Twitter page up on his phone, "I'm enjoying watching everyone trying to figure this out." Logan reads his boyfriend's most recent post, not able to hold back a snort. So many of you have been wondering about who I'm in a relationship with, but I have to admit, sometimes it seems like he loves his Crofter's jelly more than he loves me. #notsponsored *** A few months later Virgil's back with the same dark-haired interviewer whom he's actually quite grown to like. "Well, Joan," he grins, "I actually have some news about--" "Mystery guy?" they exclaim hopefully. "You've kept us in the dark for so long, it's not quite fair, don't you think?" "Actually...yeah. And as of yesterday, we're engaged, so it's probably about time." "Dude!" "Dude." They high-five. "Who proposed?" is Joan's first question. "Hey now, that's a story for another time. I've got to keep some secrets, right? Anyway, I hope you'll be content and stop badgering me if I show you a picture?" Virgil can almost feel the gasps coming from every viewer as he taps a few things on his phone. He leans foward, feeling his pulse beating hard as Joan carefully takes the phone for a closer look. He resists the urge to fidget anxiously with something(his anxiety giving him a need to fidget is the real reason behind the chipped nails and the torn jeans, actually)-- though he's not too sue what he's so nervous about. The photo is one of his favorites of Logan(well..they're all his favorite but what can you do). The college professor is smiling in his black polo and khakis(and the tie. Of course the tie) and it was a real moment, an expression of happiness from a normally seemingly impassive man. Virgil is sure, though, that what most people are focusing on as Joan holds the picture up for the world to see is the opposite of what Virgil sees-- a surprisingly normal man, nothing special. Joan, thankfully, isn't stupid, and congratulates Virgil on the fiance, who would gladly fight anyone who talked bad-- or anything less than perfect really-- about his nerd. On his way home in a cab, reading all the disappointed comments from his fans about how they expected "more," he tweets, Anyone who succumbs to the stereotypes of mainstream media and judges people based on appearance-- or the appearance of the person they love-- good bye, I don't want you coming to my concerts or buying my merch, assholes. But when he gets home, Logan is there(he didn't have classes that day) and calms him down, reminding him of all the fans who are being more awesome. "I think some of the comments actually exceed expectations--" "No. No, we are at home, you don't get to use teacher language." *** Tomorrow Virgil wakes up and feels so grateful for his fiance, who always helps him find the honest side, which is, yes, often the bright side, of things. Life is good. He stops by Starbucks and grabs the teacher a pumpkin spice latte, planning to drop by Logan's classroom in general appreciation. Needless to say, the students(those who weren't fans and hadn't seen yesterday's interview, anyway) were quite in shock when an all-out punk rocker came strolling in during a talk about astronomical culture. "Oh, sorry," the tattooed guy with the three lip piercings says, "I didn't mean to interrupt a class, but I brought you a latte," and many kids identifying him as the leader of the Storm Clouds band are close to fainting in shock when he kisses Professor Sanders on the cheek. "Yes, you could have thought that out a bit more," smiles Logan, "but I appreciate it." He notices the distracted class and snaps his fingers. "Let's--" "No," calls a particularly opinionated kid, "don't you dare make us finish the lesson, I wanna know about your boyfriend!" "Fiance," corrects Logan, sighing inwardly as he realizes class might as well be over. "Okay, you can ask him a few questions." The rest of the lesson-- and all of next week's classes-- all the students are freaking out about how they never knew how "cool" their teacher really was(they had always loved him to be honest, he was quite the good teacher.) And Virgil and Logan enjoy laughing at everyone's reactions-- fans, students, most everyone is actually really accepting, even if at the same time still in shock. They're content, in spite of all the excitement surrounding them, to have a small wedding not covered by media-- some things should get to remain private, especially what happened after the wedding. (No, you fools, nothing inappropriate, they literally just went out and bought a cat. It's name is Elliott Crofters Latte the Third and they didn't want a kitten to have cameras shoved in it's face. They're two asexual dorks and it would not behoove you to think otherwise.) The End

[imagine-loki]

It's A Funny Little Story

TITLE: It’s A Funny Little Story CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: One Shot AUTHOR: MaliceManaged ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine taking (well, more like dragging) Loki to the aquarium with you when tensions are high with the others to keep things from escalating. You end up admiring the sharks, as they are your favourite animal (which you have told literally anyone who’ll listen). Imagine the look on Loki’s face when you casually tell him that you got munched on by a shark once, and that the shark tooth on the necklace you never take off was removed from your hipbone in the hospital. RATING: Gen NOTES/WARNINGS: Yesterday I decided that I really, really wanted to write, but none of my current WIPs was calling to me, so I looked through my bookmarks and found this prompt, and just like that, 2k words happened. I have barely slept. Send help. And cake.

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    They were arguing. Again. Mina could hear their raised voices long before she reached the common room, though she couldn’t make out what was being said. It didn’t really matter in the end; arguments always escalated into fights if they weren’t stopped, and fights were very bad for her stress levels, which was bad for everybody given that her powers were very much tied to her emotions.

    They did not need another… incident.

    With a sigh she hurried her steps and, without pausing or even a word of greeting, grabbed Loki by the arm and dragged him with her right out the other door, feeling a moment’s resistance before he realised it was her, though he did huff in annoyance as he went along. She heard a faint protest behind them but ignored it, walking along until they reached her room, where Loki finally resisted and pulled his arm back to remain in the doorway.

    “This is far enough; I believe you’ve made your point rather clear,” he said coolly, moving to leave.

    “Oh, no, you don’t,” Mina countered, grabbing hold of his sleeve, “I am not done with you.”

    “You stopped the argument; what more could you want?”

    “Correction: I stopped one argument. I let you leave now, you’re just going to end up in another one.”

    “And so you removed the source of the trouble; how noble,” he practically sneered.

    Mina rolled her eyes. “Sure, keep putting words in my mouth; that’s real mature,” she replied sarcastically, “Not like I’m trying to help you or anything.”

    Loki frowned. “Why would you help me?”

    “Because you’re doing a terrible job of it yourself, mostly.” That earned her a glare. “Oh, don’t look at me like that; it’s true.”

    “Fine; and what is your grand plan to help me, hmm?” he asked slightly mockingly, crossing his arms at his chest, “Am I to be confined to this doorway until I’ve learned my lesson?”

    “You’re only there because you want to be; I have a perfectly good chair in here.”

    He fought to keep his expression neutral. “My, how gracious,” he deadpanned, sweeping into the room and sitting on the aforementioned chair then looking at her expectantly, “Well? What now, oh, generous one?”

    Mina arched an eyebrow. “Anyone ever tell you you’re a brat?”

    “Not to my face,” he replied with a smirk.

    She nodded then walked over and sat on her bed facing him. “So, what was it about this time?”

    He considered refusing to answer, but ultimately sighed, figuring he might as well. As he talked, she began toying with her necklace; a shark tooth that came to rest on her collarbone on a soft leather cord. Loki had yet to ever see her without it, though he had never asked about it, not really wanting to make conversation with her. It wasn’t that he didn’t like her, but he didn’t want to risk forming any kind of attachment to her - or any other mortal, for that matter - and prove Thor right; he would never hear the end of it.

    “Sounds to me like you need to get out of here,” she said when he finished, earning a slight frown.

    “I’m sure they would agree,” he replied a tad testily.

    “I meant for the day, Loki,” she clarified exasperatedly, “Or at least a few hours.”

    “And where do you propose I go; since you are so full of ideas?”

    She leaned back, propping herself on her hands, and thought for a moment before her expression lit up. “Ooh, I know! Let’s go to the aquarium!”

    “‘Let’s’?” he asked slightly surprised. He’d figured she would just give him a destination and send him on his way. Though in retrospect he should have known better; it wasn’t as though she’d ever shied away from his presence, which was both curious and slightly annoying, depending on the moment.

    “Yeah! We can go see the sharks!” she continued excitedly, either ignoring or missing his tone, “They’re my favourite, you know.”

    “Truly? I had no idea; you’ve only mentioned it a hundred times since we met,” he replied, voice dripping with sarcasm, then glanced around the room at the shark posters practically covering all the walls; the shark memorabilia adorning the desk, dresser and nightstands; the shark themed books both on the shelves and otherwise littering the room; the shark patterned covers on the bed, plus the throw cushions; and the three stuffed shark toys of increasing size taking up the rest of the bed, “Really; who could possibly have guessed.”

    “Oh, shut up,” Mina half mumbled, blushing deeply. She stood and walked over to her closet, pointedly not looking at him, which made him chuckle. Grabbing a t-shirt at random, she found it to be the one she’d gotten from the aquarium promoting its then new shark exhibit, and looked back at Loki somewhat sheepishly to find him trying very hard not to smile. “Not a word.”

****

    They stopped for lunch first, as that was what Mina had been on her way to do before encountering the argument in the common room, and she spent most of it rambling about sharks while he half listened, the rest of his amused attention subtly watching the looks they were getting. Mina seemed to either not mind or, most likely, not notice, especially when he further encouraged her info dump with a few well timed questions. One thing was for sure, he mused; the girl was very passionate about her interests. It was actually quite endearing, though he stopped that thought before it could take too much of a hold.

    He was not forming attachments to the mortals, dammit.

    By the time they reached the aquarium, Mina was practically vibrating with excitement and Loki felt as though he could write a book with all he’d learned about sharks in those two-ish hours since they’d left the compound. After paying the entrance fee, Mina took Loki’s hand and led him inside, surprising him; he knew her to be quite physical with her friends, and she grabbed his arm all the time when she wanted to lead him someplace, but the simple gesture was unexpected, as was the fact that she seemed not to think anything of it. Oddly enough, it didn’t bother him half as much as he’d have expected.

    With her singular focus, Loki expected her to go straight to the shark exhibit, but she instead led them on a meandering course through the whole aquarium, admiring the rest of the exhibits with a peaceful smile on her face. There weren’t as many people there as he would have expected, but he noticed she was taking them to areas with a sparser number of patrons standing around and felt a sort of gratitude that she was respecting his aversion to crowds, especially without drawing any attention towards it. As he watched the marine life swimming, floating or crawling around in the tanks, he felt his irritation from the argument and what had caused it drain away to be replaced with a sort of tranquillity, and felt even more grateful for the outing. Mina had been right; he really did need to get out of the compound, for something other than work, anyway.

    He tensed a bit when he noticed a group of people a ways away looking and pointing towards them and whispering amongst themselves, but as though sensing his shift in mood, Mina got his attention and pointed at a school of brightly coloured fishes swimming by with a grin on her face that had him smiling a bit back at.

    Eventually they reached the shark exhibition and Loki had to admit, seeing them up close like that, he could sort of see the appeal; they certainly were impressive animals. Beside him, Mina was positively enraptured, and he was once again amazed that she’d delayed getting there long enough to show him the rest of the place. He smiled a bit to himself as he turned his attention back to the tank; she was a curious creature.

    “You know, I got munched on by one of those once,” Mina spoke up casually after a while as one of the sharks swam closer to the glass.

    Loki’s gaze snapped towards her. “Sorry; what??”

    “Oh, yeah; it’s a funny little story,” she continued unconcernedly, “I was at the beach with some sort-of-friends, and they decided to hang out outside the water for a while. I didn’t really want to get out yet, so I stayed behind, and as I was floating around a shark came up and decided to take a bite out of me.” She picked up her necklace with her thumb and said with a grin, “They actually dug this out of my hipbone in the hospital; the doctor was nice enough to let me keep it.”

    “I’m… I must confess I am surprised you survived such a thing,” he said, half questioningly, trying to wipe the incredulous look he knew was there from his face with marginal success.

    Mina giggled a bit. “Well, it wasn’t as bad as it could have been. The teeth missed my spine by a couple inches, otherwise I’d have really been in trouble, and all the screaming and splashing drew attention fast enough to get me to the hospital before I bled out too much. It did leave me with this badass scar, though!” as she finished, she turned towards him and lifted her shirt to reveal her left side, where sure enough there were slightly jagged scars running in a semicircle over her abdomen and disappearing into the waistband of her jeans.

   It took Loki a moment to find his words, simply standing there staring between the scar, the necklace, and Mina’s beaming face. “And, ah, what happened? To the shark, I mean?”

    “You mean besides getting probably the biggest shock of its life?” she replied with a snort. At his raised eyebrow, she shrugged, “Nothing happened to it; it just swam away, probably questioning its life choices.”

    Loki stared at her a moment longer then turned back to the tank. “I’m surprised after that you would still name these your favourite animals,” he mused as he watched a shark lazily swimming past close to the glass.

    “Well, why wouldn’t I? It’s not like it meant any harm; it was just doing what sharks do. Not its fault its teeth are razor sharp and I’m so soft and squishy.”

    He chuckled softly. “No, I suppose not.”

    They stayed there a good while longer, until Thor called Mina asking if they were going to be away for much longer as he needed Loki to go over some paperwork with him, which caused Loki to roll his eyes and mutter something in asgardian that she doubted was particularly flattering. As they sat in the car on their way back to the compound he turned to her and lightly touched her hand resting at her side to get her attention, earning a questioning look.

    “I wish to… thank you. For today,” he said a tad haltingly, “You were right in that I needed a diversion; and though I suspect this trip was more for you than me, I do appreciate it.”

    Mina smiled warmly at him. “I get needing a break from everyone,” she replied, “They can be a bit much after a while for me, and I actually like them; I imagine it’s worse for you.”

    He looked down with a slight huff of a laugh. “I admit, while it’s certainly not new to me, it can be… trying… being surrounded by so many people who despise me. The glaring gets rather tedious after a time.”

    “I wouldn’t say they despise you, exactly; they just don’t like you very much. Mind you, your attitude towards them doesn’t exactly help.”

    “Which is rather the point. We are not friends, we are tangentially allies solely because of Thor; there’s no need to pretend otherwise,” he replied somewhat loftily, turning back to his window.

    Mina stared at him for a long moment. “Wow; you are so full of it.”

    He looked back at her incredulously. “I beg your pardon?”

    “That is not why you keep your distance and go out of your way to push people’s buttons, and you know it.”

    “Oh?” he said coolly, crossing his arms at his chest, “And why do I do these things, then, since you seem to know my mind better than I do?”

    She shrugged. “It’s a defence mechanism. If you push people away first, they don’t get the chance to do it to you.” His eye twitched a bit and he looked back out the window, settling back in his seat. “For the record; that doesn’t work on everyone.”

    “So I have noticed.”

    They rode the rest of the way in silence, with Loki heaving a sigh that was not as annoyed as he wanted it to be when she stayed beside him on his way to the meeting room where Thor was waiting. She only smiled knowingly, causing him to roll his eyes.

    At the doorway to their destination, he paused and looked down at her. “Alright, I admit; perhaps you’re one mortal worth bothering with after all.”

    Mina giggled, earning a raised eyebrow. “Who told you I was mortal?”

    He blinked. “Wait, what?”