#i am teaching myself how to be free (*college verse)
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Hey, new to your blog and to opera, and first of all I want to thank you for sharing all your informative, comprehensive and entertaining takes with us. Theatre fandom is so much richer for it! Secondly, I wondering if I might trouble you for some resource recommendations and some advice r.e. understanding opera technically and artistically as a newcomer to the genre. Myself, I only have highschool/College rudimentary orchestral (flute) skills and sadly cannot write music, sightread or sing well (would love to and have tried in the past to teach myself, but it's very difficult and hasn't...really taken well), so while I enjoy so much of the opera music to which I've been exposed, I feel so much is going over my head. What's more, though I have a theatre degree and poetry qualifications, my background is more performance Art and modern non-musical stage, so again I feel I'm missing so much nuance as I take in opera and the glitzy mad world around it. One of my tentative goals is to one day write a libretto, so it's important to me to figure it all out, however I know this will potentially be a long process. The podcasts Opera After Dark and Aria Code have helped somewhat with my understanding, but more knowledge and simpler breakdowns can only help more. Am interested in particular to know how you'd approach educating someone in opera, as you are so well-versed. In about a month I'm going to a screening of Rheingold, which is very much the scary deep end for me (I'm a fluffy French opera fan), so I'd like to go in forearmed haha. Thank you so much for reading and for your content, looking forward to the new season!
hey hey! first of all, sorry for taking half a century to respond to this ask - this is so sweet of you to say, i'm really touched 🥹
about the advice - first, to all the opera friends who see this, feel free to reblog with your own advice and ideas! i don't feel like the most qualified advice giver (lol) because for much of my knowledge, i don't quite remember how i got it. i played classical piano for twelve years, but i never "properly" studied operas anywhere, so most of my learning is and was autodidactic. i think i spent a lot of time on the internet reading interviews with my favourite singers. i also once joined an opera club/society at my university, where i learned more about practical aspects of rehearsals and performing. if you have the chance, going to any kind of open rehearsal is also great to learn about how music, staging, and acting end up together. then, it kind of depends on what you specifically want to discover about the operas you hear, whether it's music theory or aspects of stagings, etc.
i think i can say a bit, though, about how to approach a first-time rheingold (or a first-time wagner?). the most important thing is: the veil of seriousness that seems to surround wagner operas does not exist. at least it doesn't exist for me. it can be no less funky and fun than any other kind of opera. especially rheingold.
it depends a bit from which side you're more prone to approaching something: if you enjoy analysing music to get closer to it or if you feel you have to get closer to it first in order to want to analyse it. i am of the second type, which means i try to drop all worries before going to see something new and approach it with a "yeehee fun!!" mindset. something i find extremely worthwhile in wagner operas, especially because the words and the story are so old, is putting yourself in the characters' shoes and treating them as if they were real people. this helps if you tend to look at everything through the emotional lens - feeling emotionally close to the story in some way, either through understanding the relationships or properly relating, can help with appreciating the music and developing an understanding of why it was written this way. i'm no huge music analyst by choice myself, though, i have to admit. however, rheingold specifically is a very fun opera because it illustrates its own setting quite nicely with the music - there's a lot of atmosphere in the music and there's a lot of tone painting going on, like music that sounds like diving through a river, giant threatening footfalls, sounds of a smithy, and such. several of these reappear multiple times throughout the opera, so one thing i enjoyed playing around with while and after my first ring cycle was this playlist:
it has all the ring leitmotifs the heart desires and it's quite fun to play auditory bingo with them - you can either listen before you go or afterwards and then check out a recording.
as you were in orchestra, perhaps buying/borrowing a score and reading along would also be an option for you? i do this only for the works that really, really interest me, but i feel it does wonders for the amount of things i hear in the music, especially for wagner, because sometimes you can recognise motifs by sight on the page first and then you actually hear them better. i'd suggest doing this after the screening, though, if you liked it.
i'm not sure if this advice is any good, lmao - if you have any more questions, absolutely don't hesitate to be in touch! :) hope that rheingold goes well (which one will you be seeing, btw?) and i'd be curious to find out your opinion at the end!! :D
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tag dump haaa
#milky speaks (*ooc)#youth's like diamonds in the sun (*child verse)#i want to change my clothes my hair my face (*high school verse)#i am teaching myself how to be free (*college verse)#maybe i've always been more comfortable in chaos (*adult verse)#i want to love you but i don't know how (*kaspbrough)#i bless the rains down in africa (*reddie)#when he held me in his arms my feet never touched the ground (//thrustsfists)#all this heaven never could describe such a feeling as i'm feeling (//trashbeep)#i had this in my drafts and never actually posted it oops#now i'm gonna watch it with my family and then hopefully do stuff ic but mostly on mike first
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Mayo's Fic Recs
List of my favourite fics below the cut; this list is a WIP and completely personal taste; a mix of fandom classics and lesser knowns
Please remember to leave comments and kudos for the authors and podficcers!
*shows particular favourites
Fandoms currently included: Spn, Merlin, Les Mis, BatFam
Fics That Changed Me Fundamentally
Loaded March*** by Footloose. Merlin | E | 1.26M(Series)/ 35k (First part) | 188k hits (First part)
The reason SAS Captain Arthur Pendragon can’t keep a communications specialist in Team Excalibur because none of them are good enough. And then Lieutenant Merlin Emrys gets assigned to his squad, and Arthur does everything he can to prove that Merlin isn’t good enough, either. Except he is.
You can read all about my thoughts on Loaded March here, here, and here. Basically this fic series is beautifully written, has absolutely delicious UST, has found family, magic, and high stakes. It’s been part of my life for almost a decade now, I made friends through LM that I still have to this day, and it genuinely changed me as a person. Plus there are 78k of Extras to itch that I Finished Now What scratch. Parts 1-5 have been podficced and you can find them in works inspired by this one in each part.
Down to Agincourt*** by Seperis. Supernatural | E | 1.12M(Series)/ 154k (First part) | 73k hits (First part)
The world’s already over and they’re already dead. All they’re doing now is marking time until the end.
S7!Dean is transported back to the aftermath of where 5x04 The End left off. Much like LM, DtA was one that I avoided for a while. I didn’t think it would be my thing. I’m not usually into End!verse, it sounded so bleak from the summary, and it sounded so long for something I wasn’t sure about. If you’re reading this and nodding along? You are as much a fool as I was. Yes, it’s the end of the world. But it’s not over yet. This is a beautiful journey in what it means to be yourself, how to survive the end of the world, a How-To for Coups, and a study in food as a love language. I only read this fic this year, but like LM, it has genuinely changed me. Map of the World has been podficced.
Supernatural
Let’s start with the current hyperfixation. All of these are at least passively Dean/Cas unless otherwise stated. I've split into ones from my first time around in the SPN fandom and more recent ones because the vibes are actually really different and it took me some time to adjust (Not in a bad way! In a time has passed they have grown as characters way)
Old-School SPN (AKA the Classics my first time around)
Canon-Compliant or Divergent
Home in Motion* by nomdeplume13 M | 232k | 48k hits
Castiel swore he was done with spur of the moment decisions that permanently changed Dean Winchester's life. A year after the angel's most disastrous, his newest may present the largest challenge of dean's life: Fatherhood.
Did someone say kid!fic in canonverse? This is perfect. Canon divergence from the end of S6. Cas saves a baby from a neglectful mother and gives him to Dean to raise. They all move in with Bobby. Great OCs. Bobby considers Cas his son. Listen everything I say here will not be able to begin to encompass how much I love this fic. Just trust me on this one.
Named* by RC_McLachlan M | 95k | 95k hits
Jesus Christ is dead. Somehow, that isn't the worst part of Dean's week.
With a summary like that, need I say more? No but I'm gonna. This is one of the funniest fics I've ever read, but it doesn't take any emotion from the serious moments, if anything it heightens them. There are so many quotes from this I think about all the time. It was written in 2010 and so there's a bit of misogyny/character assassination of Anna in places.
Second Childhood by CloudyJenn (read by exmanhater) G | 16k (1h30) | 10k hits
"Dude, I can't do this whole thing by myself," Dean said with far more desperation leaking into his tone than he liked. It would just be too much to make it through hell and death and Lucifer only to have Castiel bail on him because of a frigging baby.
They beat the Apocalypse (OG-S5) and then Sam gets de-aged by a spell. I've listened to this so many times I know it by heart, it's an ultimate comfort fic to me.
Defy Any and All Expectation* by Tenoko1 (read by Tenoko1) M | 138k (14hrs) | 37k hits
Chuck's newly released books tell of another war between Heaven and Hell. Team Free Will sets out to try to defy prophecy, only to realize there is a lot more at stake and amiss than the not-quite-accurate words of one Prophet of the Lord. Along the way, Dean and Cas' relationship continues to evolve into something neither expected or were prepared for, all of their lives transforming in ways no one could have expected. But with no shortage of cases, monsters, and mayhem, it's going to require the help of new friends and old enemies if they're to have a hope of saving the world one more time. Alternate Season Six.
So this is a re-written version of Tenoko1's The Path We Choose which I don't think is around anymore. By the time I was reading the re-write as each chapter came out, I knew every single line of TPWC and it wasn't all that much shorter. It's such a perfect canon divergence because they are all 100% in-character. If you're into podfic, you already know what an absolute gift 14 hours is, but if you have never tried podfic before, Tenoko1 is a fantastic place to start. Her voice is soothing and energetic and her Cas sometimes comes to mind when I'm reading fic in Misha's place (sorry Misha)
His Fucking Kids 'Verse by 8sword M | 96k(Series)/ 3k (first part) | 26k hits (first part)
Jesus, the school should just have a parking spot labeled, “Reserved for the Novak-Winchesters,” because Dean’s getting sick of having to cruise around the parking lot looking for a spot every time he gets a call from the principal about Emma.
Emma survives and Dean and Cas are raising her and Claire. This fic series will make you laugh, make you cry, and (nowadays) make you wish Emma had survived to be a part of Wayward Sisters.
One Species Too Many by wallmakerrelict E | 22k | 37k hits
While Dean is laid up for a month after breaking his leg on a hunt, Cas decides that it's a perfect time to adopt a litter of kittens. But even though he's gotten better since Purgatory, Cas still isn't quite the same as he was before fixing Sam's head, and being trapped in a cabin with him for weeks on end is making that all the more obvious to Dean. When Sam takes off on a hunt, Dean has to figure out on his own how to navigate his new relationship with Cas while also helping to raise a bunch of fuzzballs that aren't even cute. Not even a little bit. (Well, maybe a little bit.)
Dean breaks his legs, and honey!Cas brings home some kittens to foster. It's achingly sweet and also painful because you know Dean wants to fix Cas but there's nothing to fix. It is tagged for ableism for this.
Tripping* by Hatteress E | 49k | 78k hits
That time the universe decided Dean belonged with Cas and wasn't afraid to pull out the big guns to make it so. Big guns in this case being obsessive fangirls, archangels turned tricksters and overly enthusiastic cupids. Welcome to Dean's life.
Alt!S5 and it is beautiful. Also any fic with Missouri is an automatic win.
Broadway Musical by Grifitings M | 12k | 79k hits
This is the day that marked the Holy and Blessed Union of Dean Winchester and Jo Harvelle. The merging of prominent bloodlines is always a grand occurrence, but breeding pedigree hunter families like Winchester and Harvelle is something to be rejoiced. It is also something to be meticulously planned, which thankfully the Host is very good at. Or, the romantic comedy where Dean Winchester and Jo Harvelle are destined to get married, Castiel is given the task of playing matchmaker and fails terribly, the entire Heavenly Host becomes a sitcom audience, God warns against male pregnancy, and Jimmy Novak is incredibly unimpressed with angels in general.
Jimmy deserves a sainthood and frankly I don't even want to hear about crack if it's not on the level of the Host yelling at Cas not to touch the butt.
Classic AUs (AKA AUs from my first time around)
Try Something Tuesday by almaasi E | 48k | 144k hits
Dean Winchester teaches a third-grade class. He's new to this whole ‘bisexual’ thing - but by pure happenstance, he meets Castiel: a particularly dapper male librarian who moonlights as a substitute teacher. Dean's curious and Castiel is willing, so why the hell not? Except, fate never intended it to be one-time-only...
This was one of the first spn fics to really really stay with me and it never really left.
Rock 'n' Roll Queer Bar by ChasingRabbits E | 127k(Series)/ 8k (Part1) | 29k hits (Part1)
Ellen and Jo Harvelle run Harvelle's Roadhouse, a bar that unintentionally becomes a beacon for wayward queer souls. Her employees: Dean, the smartass runaway with a big heart and bigger mouth; Castiel, the college drop-out turned hippie; his (surprisingly heterosexual) trouble-making brother Gabriel; and Charlie, who has been told several times that the back room is not to be used for after-hours Dungeons & Dragons games. But there's a lot of love in this place, and a new family for anyone who may otherwise be without.
This series. If you've ever felt unsure or out of place or anxious or just really felt like no-one understood you, this fic is for you. I first found this series when I was coming to terms with my queerness and I genuinely think it was invaluable. Also I am a sucker for the go for a dinner at Cas's family and end up storming out trope.
Play It All Night Long by janie_tangerine (read by Tenoko1) NC17 | 43k (4hrs)
The rom-com-ish one where Dean hosts a late night radio show, Castiel is a regular listener of his who starts calling one day and ends up calling more often than not and Dean finds himself liking it. This, until one day Castiel calls for not exactly petty reasons (just before Dean's brother Sam is visiting with his girlfriend for spring break) and things get very, very crowdy at his place. He also doesn't know it's just the beginning of it. Also features Gabriel, Chuck, Andy, the Roadhouse crew and a huge amount of music quoted. Especially Bob Dylan.
Again, this podfic has got me through many a night of insomnia. Cas calls in after a particularly shitty day and it all goes from there.
New-School SPN (AKA post-2014)
Canon-Compliant or Divergent
Tall Grass by aeli_kindara E | 57k | 28k hits
“I think we should have a garden,” Cas says. Dean looks up from his beer. He hasn’t had that much to drink, but Cas still has a vague look of unreality about him, a splash of living color that doesn’t fit in the bunker’s echoing stillness. Dean didn’t hear him coming. A lot of the time, Cas is so unobtrusive it feels like Dean has the bunker to himself, with Sam away. Dean shakes his head to clear it. “A — garden?” he repeats.
There is a reason you will see this recced time and time again. It healed parts of me I didn't know needed healing.
So Says the Sword* by komodobits E | 85k | 73k hits
The briefing was simple: ‘Stand guard over the Michael Sword until the battle is ready to commence. Await further instructions.’ Castiel doesn’t mind working security duty; he was briefed shortly after the initial salvation of the Sword from the pit, and again before taking up his position. He knows what to do. However, it’s easy to forget that the green room isn’t real. Time moves differently there, the space ever-changing to make a prison of mountains, cathedrals, salt flats, orchards, and whatever Castiel was led to believe about Heaven’s greatest weapon—Dean Winchester is something entirely unexpected
I saw ssts mentioned in like every single If you're getting back into the fandom READ THIS rec list. For good reason. It's described as "canon-adjacent in that seasons one to three happened exactly the same, but when Dean goes to Hell, he is not raised by Castiel". It's one of the most interesting concepts I've read and it's one of those fics where the writing style will stick with you. Castiel POV in a way you've never read before.
Aching in the Absence of You* by sobsicles E | 95k | 9k hits (in 5 days)
Brittle and battle-worn, Cas looks at him over coffee one morning and says, "I need to go," and Dean instantly knows that he's not coming back. He's not really sure how he knows it, but he does. It settles into the pit of his stomach, curling hot and tight like something he instinctively wants to tear out with his bare hands. He takes a breath, and it gets stuck in his throat, hitching there. It hurts, hurts, hurts when he finally exhales. "Yeah," Dean says, "of course you do," and he nods jerkily as he looks down at his phone. He doesn't say goodbye. He doesn't look up from the screen when Cas gets up and leaves the room. He doesn't finish his coffee, or move for a long time. By nightfall, Cas is gone.
If you don't already know sobsicles, I am delighted to introduce you to the person who will smash you to pieces with a hammer to put you back together Kintsugi-style. This one is post-finale but without 15x18 (it'll make sense as it goes). Cas says he's going to leave again and again Dean doesn't ask him to stay. Full of lines so beautiful they'd make Shakespeare weep, Sobsicles has this way of writing that is so evocative and paints such a clear picture. Fair warning, if you're Dean-coded, this might be A Lot.
dumbassery, denial, doing (the three d's to the destination)** by sobsicles E | 108k | 25k hits
Freedom is just one adjustment after the next. ~~~ Cas hums again. "I think you already have. It's been months since everything settled. All that's left to do is...get used to it, and perhaps—" His voice stalls out, uncharacteristically, and his gaze roams Dean's face with intensity. When he speaks next, his tone is a little raw. "Perhaps what one does with peace is...whatever they want." "What if I don't even know what that is?" Dean grumbles, arching an eyebrow in challenge. "'Cause I know damn well you don't just mean good food and a good bed and time in Baby, not simple wants like that. You mean—ya know, the big things, the wants we didn't get to have before." "Yes," Cas agrees. "If you're not sure, figure it out." "Easier said than done."
Yes, two sobsicles recs back to back. This one I read first and it still holds such a special place in my heart. A sign of a good fic is being able to picture it perfectly. The sign of an amazing fic is that when reading this I was so in Dean's shoes I could feel a pool cue between my hands and Baby behind my back. And I sobbed like a baby in this. It has probably my favourite ending ever. It's genuinely beautiful. If you don't read another on this list, read this one.
Teaching Poetry to Fish by aeli_kindara M | 52k | 14k hits
In which Castiel teaches poetry to fish. Also, himself. Also, eventually, Dean. (A series-long story, diverging slightly from canon after S14.)
The ultimate Cas character study and interwoven with poetry.
So There It Is, I've Said It All by PorcupineGirl (read by Ceewelsh) G | 4k | 13k hits
"Why, do you have something you need to say to me that you don't think I'll like?" I think I'm in love with you. "Yeah. I guess so."
Dean figures out he's in love with Cas then can't stop thinking it. This is genuinely beautiful and if you've ever had trouble actually saying the thing you're thinking, you'll relate to Dean here. I recently did the podfic for this.
you won't find this place alone by amidsizedfrog G | 9.5k |
When Claire said she was dropping out of college to pursue hunting full time, Dean said, “right,” and left the room. Or, the cross-generation conversation about formal education, choosing your own path and figuring out what it looks like to find a family. Or, in other words: "But what I do have is a GED and a give-'em-hell-attitude, and I'll figure it out." - Dean Winchester
This is a beautiful look at education in the hunter world, and I love anything that looks at Dean and Bobby's relationship and this does it perfectly. Also best cameo ever.
Seek to Know You Better by ahurston E | 33k | 23k hits
Dean and Cas, a long stretch of highway, and 36 questions empirically designed to make two people fall in love. As if they weren't already.
This is perfect. It has a lovely slow pace like it has the vibes of an indie film if that makes sense? Like it's two guys going from place to place talking. It was an instant favourite.
Newer AUs (AKA more recent AUs)
And This, Your Living Kiss* by opal_bullets M | 57k | 69k hits
Only a very few people in the world know that the celebrated and reclusive poet Jack Allen is just Kansas mechanic Dean Winchester, a high school dropout with a few bucks to his name. Not that it matters anymore; life has left him so wrung out he never wants to pick up another pen. Until, that is, a string of coincidences leads Dean to auditing a poetry course with one Dr. Castiel Novak. The professor is wildly intelligent, devastatingly handsome...and just so happens to be academia's foremost expert on the poetry of Jack Allen.
When I asked which fics were absolute must-reads for someone who'd been out of the fandom a few years, this was said repeatedly. But what really got me to read it was everyone actually told me more about what it meant to them than just the summary. It's a study in poetry, a study in learning who you are and who you used to be, and a reminder that it's never too late.
The Graveyard Shift* by riseofthefallenone, PurgatoryJar E | 620k | 175k hits
Dean’s favourite coffee shop, The Graveyard Shift, is only open after the sun goes down. Which is perfect for him, because that’s exactly when he craves coffee the most while doing the overnight at the fire hall. The coffee shop’s owner is pretty perfect too, but it’s kind of a bummer that Dean never gets to see Cas during the day. In a world where the supernatural live more or less in peace with the rest of humanity, it’s a little impolite to ask Cas just what he really is - or what his dark past entails.
A fantastic magical realism fic - magical creatures live and work with humans. Gabe and Cas run a coffee shop, Dean is a fireman, and the burn is slow and delicious and the intrigue kept me reading for like a week every single spare minute.
Painted Angels by WinJennster E | 106k | 162k hits
Author Castiel Novak has finally hit the big time, with a book based on his failed college relationship with a brilliant painter. He's put all his pain behind him, but at a book signing, he comes face to face with Dean Winchester for the first time in twelve years, and the reunion doesn't go like Cas hoped. Dean's a broken man, with a lot of scars and secrets, shoulders weighed down by his demons and self loathing. Cas sees a second chance with the man he's never stopped loving, but Dean's moved on, and is about to get married. Sam launches a "brilliant" plan to reunite his brother and his best friend, but Cas is worried it will all blow up in their faces, and he'll go through the agony of losing Dean a second time.
The first part of this I actually saved back when I was first in the fandom but I never got around to reading it (I had a To Read folder of 100+ fics that I absolutely dove into when I got back into spn) and the rest of the series finished in 2016 so I'm counting it in this section not the other. On the one hand, I wish I'd read this when it first came out. It's beautiful and heartbreaking, and so visual. On the other hand, I think I appreciated it a lot more now than I would have seven years ago. The parallel of me coming back to the old fandom that I loved dearly with Cas coming back to see someone and places he loved so much really hit. (Although coming back to the spn fandom was much easier and much less heartbreak!)
Finale Fix-Its (yeah fuck you Dabb that this has to be a whole category)
The Goldenrod Revisions by aethylas M | 66k | 15k hits
A rewrite of Supernatural’s final two episodes, expanded into a five episode arc - in which Chuck needs to be defeated, Castiel deserves to be saved, and the characters in this story get a very different ending.
Script format re-write of 15x19 and 15x20 into a 5-episode finale fix-it. As far as I'm concerned, this and chocolatecakecas's American Pie fanvid are the Supernatural finale.
break the skin (to break the barriers)* by sobsicles M | 30k | 9k hits
The first time she meets him, he's nothing more than an almost-missed appointment. ~~~ Dean is silent for a long, tense moment, then he gruffly says, "It's not for banishing the angels. It's to summon them. So, it doesn't—it's not to get rid of 'em, but to draw 'em in." Mitzi can't help but glance up at him at that. His voice is so heavy with so much unexplained pain, and she doesn't understand why, or what angels have to do with it. She knows religion can impact people. She's very aware that it can get complicated, and that it can be a huge source of pain for someone, but Dean sounds grievously wronged, somehow, as if it's a truly personal thing. She pushes through, focusing back on her job, clearing her throat before murmuring, "Well, I guess we all want angels to visit us sometimes." "Just the one," Dean mumbles. "Your guardian angel?" Mitzi asks. Dean breathes out, "Something like that. As close to one as an angel will ever get."
Therapy through getting tattoos and telling your life story to someone who obviously doesn't think it's real. Outsider!POV not just done well, but done literally the best.
Kingdom Come by ahurston E | 17k | 10k hits
Cas wakes up on the coast of Maine. He makes his way home.
I don't know if this counts as finale fix-it as it's more fuck the finale we're ignoring that. There's just so much love and care in this fic.
The Family Business by chai_lattes M | 16k | 5.5k hits
It's all over. It's been weeks since Chuck's defeat and Cas' return from the Empty. There are no threats on the horizon, no apocalypses to stop, but there's something that keeps the Winchesters from being happy. Something that's maybe always been there. On their way back from a hunt, they find John Winchester, back from the dead.
If you're anything like me, you start rubbing your grubby little hands together at the tag John Winchester's A+ Parenting like yes let's address this! This is one of the best examples of John coming back and how it jars with the life that they have built. Also Claire and Jack getting to share screentime!
Merlin
If I have a forever fandom, it's Merlin. I've always kept one foot in this fandom, and it introduced me to fandom, and most importantly to podfic which kinda had an impact. All Merthur unless stated.
Canon-Verse
Seven Magpies by syllic (read by lunchee) E | 33k (3hr15) | 58k hits
Arthur opened his eyes a minute later to the sight of seven magpies streaking across the top of the clearing, their shapes dark against the white clouds and the muted grey of the sky. He tried to remember what it was that seven magpies meant—he'd had a nurse who had sung the rhyme to him as a child—but couldn't. Arthur wakes up somewhere he doesn't recognise, but where he clearly belongs.
Okay so this is an AU but it's Canon-AU so it's going here. Fantastic role reversal fic that you will be thinking about for weeks.
and from your grace, i fell by TheDragon (read by Ceewelsh) T | 4.6k (41mins) | 13k hits
“Where’s Merlin?” he asks the maid. “Where’s that idiot of a Court Sorcerer?!” “Begging your pardon, Your Majesty. I thought you knew,” the maid replies, not daring to look him in the eyes. “He’s taken ill.” “And he couldn’t be bothered to tell me himself that he would be unable to attend today’s council meeting?” Arthur questions, voice full of acid. “He hasn’t woken since he collapsed two days ago, Sire,” the maidservant says, blissfully unaware that what she’s saying the power to stop Arthur’s heart in its tracks.
When I first read this, it had me completely transfixed. I could not stop reading. It was so raw and so full of emotion. I was then lucky enough to get TheDragon in our exchange, so I did a podfic for it and it's probably the most proud I've been of one.
Modern AU
The Student Prince* by FayJay (read by FayJay) M | 145k (15hrs) | 696k hits
A Modern day Merlin AU set at the University of St Andrews, featuring teetotal kickboxers, secret wizards, magnificent bodyguards of various genders, irate fairies, imprisoned dragons, crumbling gothic architecture, arrogant princes, adorable engineering students, stolen gold, magical doorways, attempted assassination, drunken students, shaving foam fights, embarrassing mornings after, The Hammer Dance, duty, responsibility, friendship and true love...
A classic is a classic for a reason. I'm also pretty sure this introduced me to podfics so like special place in my heart x2. Did you know if you filter AO3 by hits on Merlin, this has 426k more hits than the second result? Now that is a Fandom Classic.
Drastically Redefining Protocol* by rageprufrock (read by lunchee) E | 46k (5hr30) | 269k hits
In which Prince Arthur meets Merlin and all hell promptly breaks loose.
As I always say, if this can happen to me and I still love the fic, nothing is going to change that. Arthur hides from his duties in a cupboard and gets stuck in there with a chainsmoking med student.
Fundamental Imperfections by Starlingthefool (read by bravenclawsome) M | 12k (1hr35) | 123k hits
In which an argument about Dickens leads to a Twitter scandal, broken bones, midnight conversations, and transatlantic longing. (Or, an AU with Arthur and Merlin as moderately famous authors.)
This fic has everything: Charles Dickens, long distance texting, Morgana choking a Sherlock cosplayer with his own scarf. This is the ultimate comfort fic and I compare all fics to this even when they're incomparable. I never read the sequel because it was WIP and I was waiting for it to complete, it hasn't been updated since 2015 and apparently ends on an unhappy note, so if you're going to read the sequel you have been warned.
Les Mis
Modern!AU
Overzealous Oddities by YassHomo e/R, Courf/Cosette/Marius, Comb/Ép | G | 6.4k | 4k hits
Courfeyrac: Remember when I smashed our tv and we laughed about it? Enjolras: No. Courfeyrac: Let me rephrase Courfeyrac: I've smashed our tv, lets laugh about it.
I love me a text fic and this is in my opinion the best one around. Just look at that summary. I have quoted that so many times.
But Paris was a very old city and we were young* by GingerNinjaAbi E/R, Courf/Jehan | M | 99k | 42k hits
Perhaps somewhere in between all the cups of coffee, shots of tequila, sunny March days, terrible lumpy jumpers, love, cigarettes, drunken nights and the desire to change the world they'll all leave Paris with a degree in something. Or not. Grantaire's money is on no. But he's a pessimist who's hopelessly in love, so perhaps his opinion shouldn't count.
The ULTIMATE modern!AU tbh.
Tagged by Salomonderiel E/R, Courf/Jehan | E | 155k | 28k hits
So there's this artist. He could probably be compared to Banksy, but he's a lot more... cynical. He shares rooms with a poet who braids his hair with flowers, in a flat near Covent Garden they rent from a short-tempered shop keeper with a penchant for fans and who'd do anything if you mentioned Poland. Sometimes, the three of them will go and deface public buildings in London whilst completely smashed off their heads. And then there's this, shall we say, 'revolutionary'. He has a band of other revolutionaries, who all meet at this cafe by Borough Market. He shares rooms with his best mate, a philosophy student, spends too much time with a flirty guy who has a thing for poets, goes boxing with a guy in a red vest, wants to punch the wet sop who drools on the blonde waitress and is getting tired of this guy who keep breaking his laptops through sheer dumb luck. Thank god the hypochondriac's there to keep an (slightly too) attentive eye on their stress levels. The revolutionary thinks the graffiti artist's work is a waste of space. The artist thinks the revolutionary's campaigns are a waste of time. And all the while, the poet and the flirt drool over each other in the background...
This is perfect and it's funny and it's beautiful and it rips my heart out multiple times.
Canon
To Be Free by kjack89 (read by Ceewelsh) Gen, Cosette/Marius | T | 3.8k (32mins) | 375 hits
Three blows from a bayonet had transfixed Combeferre’s breast, followed by a fall from the barricade as he rapidly lost first blood and then consciousness. But neither of these, it seemed, was enough to kill him, as much as later he might perhaps wish that they were.
I read this because it was on a list kjack89 did of their favourite fics which don't necessarily have the same hits traffic. It's nothing I would have usually read (canon era, not e/R, MCD) but I am so glad I gave it a go. It's a study on what if Combeferre had survived the barricades too and the guilt. This stayed with me for days afterwards until I eventually messaged kjack89 to get permission to podfic it.
BatFam
Canonish (I don't know differences between canons but these are all they're superheros fics)
Robins United by laceymcbain (read by reena_jenkins) Gen | T | 49k (6h15)/ 19k (2h25) (First part) | 103k hits
Bullets, knives, a three story fall, even a fucking crowbar hadn't managed to keep Jason down permanently, but Dick Grayson (and the rest of his "family") was going to kill him with kindness.
The ultimate batbros series. Also if you haven't heard reena_jenkins' podfics before, you are welcome. Pre-pandemic I took a lot of public transport and reena_jenkins kept me sane.
batcoons by drakefeathers (read by reena_jenkins) Gen | G | 6k (49mins) | 14k hits
Jason and raccoons have a lot in common. (Additionally: his so-called family are much bigger pests than the stray animals hanging around his safehouse.)
This is funny, it's heartwarming, and it's a really good character study.
AU
Here Comes the Sun by batsy_rocks Clark/Bruce | T | 19k | 20k hits
Clark Kent is a kind-hearted reporter working in the big city. Bruce Wayne is a stressed dad of four with no idea of what he's doing. Then they meet.
Bruce Wayne is a Tired Single Dad™. It's genuinely such a sweet fic.
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[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day Two Hundred Seventy-Three: A Screeching Halt ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata ] [ SasuHina, blood, serious injury ] [ Verse: Best Years of Your Life ] [ AO3 Link ]
“All right, I’ll see you after class, then.”
“Okay! So, are we still going to have our take-out and movie Friday, or…?”
Sasuke chuckles, bringing his wife forward with an arm around her waist, planting a kiss against her temple. “Of course. I even delayed a quiz so I’d have less to grade this weekend.”
“Oh, scandalous, putting aside your work!” Hinata can’t help but tease, going a light shade of pink at the gesture.
“Hey, you teach first graders, you don’t have to deal with teenagers and their boatloads of homework like I do. If I want to give myself a break, I’ll do it. We’re not about to fall that far behind on the curriculum. We’ve had this planned for two weeks, now. A few days’ break from an algebra quiz won’t kill anyone.”
“All right, all right...well, I better get going. I’ve got a mini field trip to prepare for.”
“Heading to the park for the day?”
“Mhm. The high school band is hosting a concert and the elementary classes all get to go watch.”
“You’ll have to tell me how it goes.”
“I will. See you later, hun.”
“Bye.” Dropping Hinata off in front of their small town’s elementary school, Sasuke watches her reach the door before heading off further down the street to the high school. While his wife is a first grade teacher, he himself hosts algebra classes, typically for freshmen, but a few older students tend to get sprinkled in. True to his word, he’s skipping their quiz that was scheduled so he can, instead, have a guilt-free night without anything to grade to finally get a little peace and quiet with his wife. With the school year newly begun, they’ve both been up to their ears with work since the tail end of August. Any chance they get for a break is more than welcome.
Parking in the staff lot, Sasuke fetches his supplies from the back seat before making his way into the building...which means navigating a sea of teenagers. Easing his way through, he occasionally gives a greeting, nodding to students he knows. At one point he gently taps a teen’s head, giving him a scolding look at having found him lip-locked with his girlfriend.
“Try to keep PDA to a minimum, please,” Sasuke chides with a sigh.
The pair just pout, making no promises either way as they sulk. Sasuke just snorts. He knows well how it was being a teenager in love...at least, a bit. He and Hinata didn’t really get together until their senior year, carrying on into college when they both went into the same basic major of education, just with different focuses. While Hinata loves small children and early education, Sasuke prefers math and people a little more...grown up.
...not that all teenagers are mature, by any means.
Making his way into his classroom, he starts sorting through his things: reviewing today’s lesson plan, making sure he has graded homework to pass back, taking out today’s roll call sheet...and sending Hinata a quick text.
Did you pick a movie, by the way?
As he awaits her reply, he glances up as a few early bird students file in before the bell, eyes then lowering back to their textbook. His first period class has actually turned out to be one of his most productive, averaging a bit higher grades than the other slots he has through the day.
His mobile then buzzes.
Hm, not yet...we’ll have to browse Netflix and see what’s what. Should we watch an old favorite, or try something new?
He mulls that over.
Personally, if this is a relaxing kind of night, I’d prefer something we know so we don’t have to pay TOO close of attention...I might just doze off.
After a pause she responds, and he can almost hear her laugh.
All right, oldie but goodie it is! But next time I want to see that new drama...can’t remember the name but you can’t put it off forever :P
Sasuke can’t help a snort. Oh, yes he can.
But by then the warning bell rings, so he puts the phone on silent and gets ready to address his gaggle of teens. What with it being Friday, he doesn’t have the highest expectations for attention spans, but...hopefully they can get through his lesson, and then they’ll have all weekend to study. Or...in most cases, probably just cram a bit Sunday night.
He knows their ways.
“All right class,” he calls as the final bell rings, every desk occupied. “I’ll take roll call, and then we’ll jump right into things. I know you’re all eager to get through to the weekend, so...let’s just get today’s lesson over with, shall we?”
With everyone in attendance, he dives right into their current chapter section, explaining and giving examples on the white board. A few students have questions toward the end, but otherwise it seems to be smooth sailing.
So, when the bell rings, he announces the upcoming quiz as they take their leave. “Be ready on Monday! No homework for today, so go enjoy your weekend outside studying, all right?”
Second period he has free, finishing up a few stray assignments for an afternoon class he has yet to finish grading. When third period rolls around, he finds several students missing.
“They’re at the park for the concert,” one girl explains, and Sasuke nods in understanding.
“Right, the one for the little kids, gotcha. All right, well let’s get started, and -”
Before he can go on, the door slams open, and the entire class (including him) give a jolt. Beyond it is the gym teacher, looking harried and out of breath.
“Sasuke, I’m sorry but - your wife, she -”
Dread immediately weighs in his gut like a stone. “...what happened?”
“There was a-a car, and -” He swallows. “She was leading her class across the road to the park. They aren’t sure if the driver was drunk or not, but Hinata was struck, and -”
Sasuke’s face slackens, quickly draining of color. “...I...I have to -?”
“I’m free this period, I’ll watch your kids - get going!”
Nodding jerkily, Sasuke wastes no time in rushing past him through the door, sprinting down the hall to the door nearest the elementary school as frantic voices fill his classroom.
Please, please no...please no!
Shoving the door open, he doesn’t slow down, running flat out the entire way to the school and the park across the road. Already there’s sirens cutting through the air as the local ambulance makes its way to the scene. Elementary school students are gathered in the park, many crying as confusion and panic spread through the classes like a wildfire.
On the sidewalk, several teachers are gathered around, frantic and gesturing. One looks up, and he recognizes the elementary nurse. “Oh Sasuke, good you’re here - she’s pretty badly hurt, but she’s going to be okay. I think she’s got a few broken ribs and a broken arm, but her head and spine appear to be fine. We’re not moving her just in case, until the EMTs get here.”
Let through as the other adults part, Sasuke feels his heart stop in his chest. Hinata lays on the sidewalk, a bit of blood smeared across her chin. Her breath is short and gasping, an arm wrapped around her middle with a grimace of pain. The other lies weakly along her side.
“Oh shit...Hinata…” Carefully kneeling, he gently lays a hand on her shoulder. “Honey, I’m here…”
“Sasuke…? Oh, thank God...I-I’m all right, just...just a little banged up.”
“Shh, don’t talk - save your energy, and don’t make it any worse for those ribs.” He smooths at her bangs, expression gaunt with worry and apprehension. A glance up, and he asks, “What happened?”
“Hinata was leading her kids across the street when a car just...swerved around the corner,” a man replies, tone hushed. “It was all over the road, and going far above the speed limit. Hinata managed to corral the kids and get them out of the way just in time, but she was hit instead. The car tried to stop, the tires screeched something awful, but...it was still moving at a good clip when it hit her. She saved those kids...no telling the damage someone that small would have had. She kept them from panicking and scattering all over the road...”
“And the driver?”
The other teacher nods, and Sasuke looks up. Only then does he see the car smashed into a tree, a small swarm of police cars surrounding it.
“Seems they were in some kind of high speed chase. What possessed them to go through a school zone is beyond me…”
Siren blaring, the ambulance finally pulls up, EMTs rushing to evaluate the situation. Once they have her checked out, a stretcher is fetched, Hinata lifted onto it and loaded into the back.
“Sir, are you her husband?”
“Yes, I am. Can I go with you?”
“Of course.”
Turning back, a teacher lifts a hand in understanding before Sasuke can speak. “We’ll get word to the high school. I’m sure they’ll understand.”
“Thank you…” Climbing in beside his wife, Sasuke takes her hand, face still drawn.
“I’m all right, Sasuke...it could be w-worse.”
“I know, but that doesn’t make it any better. You got hit by a car…!”
“A few weeks, and I’ll be right as rain,” she assures him, smiling tiredly. “But...I guess this m-means we’ll miss our movie night...huh?”
“...I’m sure we can reschedule. For now...you’re my priority.”
Lacking any more words, Hinata just blinks slowly at him as the doors are closed and they pull away.
.oOo.
Oh man, I hate writing a hurt Hinata ;o; But this was the first thing that came to mind upon reading the prompt. She'll be okay, just needs some recup time...and she was a hero saving those kidlings! Poor Sasuke's very shook up, tho... Anyway, not...much else to say? I'm v tired and tomorrow's gonna be a long one, so I better get some sleep~ Thanks for reading!
#sasuhina#uchiha sasuke#hyūga hinata#blood //#serious injury //#best years of your life [ au ]#365daysofsasuhina
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What is the next craft you are going to make? I’ve gotten into making beaded bracelets. Do you go outside every time that it’s sunny? Nooo. I don’t care about it being sunny, that doesn’t do anything for me. Especially if it’s hot and miserable. I don’t understand how people like summer. I’m a fall and winter gal. What’s the last thing you purchased with cash? I don’t remember. In the winter, would you prefer it to be snowy or not snowy? It doesn’t snow here, but I wish it did. What decade did you grow up in? The 90s and 2000s. Although, I’d argue I still have growing up to do.
What was your favorite Backstreet Boys song? A few of them, but “I Want it That Way” holds special memories because in 4th grade I had the coolest teacher and he’d sing songs, even played some on piano, was always goofy and fun and just really cool. We loved when he’d read out loud to us cause he did the best voices. I still remember him reading Matilda to us. Anyway, back to the song, that was one of the songs he’d sing. The whole class did. I think sometimes he did it as a way to get the classes attention, like he’d start and then we join in and do every other verse or something. I think mostly he just did it for fun. I was so sad on the last day of school I remember crying at home lmao. He was favorite teacher by far. I was fortunate to have him again in 8th grade cause he started teaching that grade and it worked out great. My younger brother and a couple of my cousins had him, too. I actually have him on Facebook. Favorite *N Sync song? I have a few as well. Which of those two bands did you like best? I liked them both. Do you learn choreography easily? I’m no dancer at all. If you had to choose, would you rather be taller or shorter? Taller. Do you feel you can trust your doctor? One of my doctors I know I can. I’ve been seeing her for almost 4 years now and I know she really cares and has my best interest at heart. My other doctor isn’t as personal and I honestly kind of just feel like a number or paycheck and that’s all. I get what I need, which is the main thing, but still. What is the theme of this year’s wall calendar? I don’t have one. Do you feel like you were just writing 2009 on your school papers? No, it’s been 10 years now. How old will you be in 2033? Blah. Do you believe that Jesus will come back in your lifetime? I hope so. Do you still have your favorite toy from when you were kid? I still have my Barbies. What was the last good book you read? Burying the Honeysuckle Girls by Emily Carpenter. Which do you do more: read books, spent time online, or watch television? Spend time online and watch TV. What do you do the most when you’re online? Tumblr, watch YouTube, and check social medias. Do you use a sunlamp? No. Is your 2019 off to a good start? It was a horrible start, I got really sick and it caused setbacks and it was just a really, really bad time. How will you decorate for Valentine’s Day? We don’t. Which foot is bigger, your left or your right? I think my right one slightly is. What color is your winter coat? I have a black peacoat, a white peacoat, and a black/blue/gray/white plaid peacoat. Do you have an art journaling Bible? No. What’s your favorite candy to receive on Halloween? I liked getting chocolate. I hated getting stuff like “Dots.” Do you think you’re too old to go trick-or-treating? Uh, yeah I’d say so. I’m 30 years old. Do you have a bobblehead? Yeah, a Chewbacca one. If yes, what does your bobblehead look like? ^^^^
Have you ever spent your birthday alone? No. Do you enjoy spending holidays alone (if you’ve ever done it)? I’ve never spent any alone, thankfully. I love that I’ve been able to spend them with family and that’s how I want to spend every holiday. Which holiday is closest to your birthday? 4th of July. Have you ever had a themed bday party? Yeah as a kid I did. If yes, what was the theme? I had various ones. What is your favorite ride at the fair? I don’t do fairs. Were you afraid of heights as a child? I still am. Do you think it’s stupid when you’re dying to have someone pray that you don’t feel afraid? (I would want them to pray that I live, personally) No, not at all. I mean, if there’s a chance I could live then yes it would be nice if they prayed for recovery and that I pull through, but if there was nothing that could be done and I was dying, then it prayers of comfort and strength would be appreciated. It would be a scary time. What’s the strangest thing you’ve wrapped a present in? Nothing strange, I use wrapping paper, gift bags, or gift boxes. Do you enjoy and appreciate life? Or is this something you need to learn? No. :/ What was on the last mylar balloon you bought? I don’t recall. Which dollar store is your favorite? Why has this question come up in the last few surveys I’ve done?? Have you ever made a pom-pom out of yarn? No. Do you prefer to take showers in the morning or at night? At night. Can you read in the car? * Nooo. I would get so much motion sickness <<< Same. What food gives you diarrhea? That’s not an issue for me, my issue is I have a messed up stomach, so it just gets upset and I get really bad stomaches that really seem to be at random. Do you keep a diary with a lock and key, or do you just hope no1 will read? Nope. This is my diary for all to see. Do you have a friend turned enemy whom you wish were still your friend? No. Have you ever had a lead role in a play? No. Do you know how to use imovie? Yeah. What does your phone look like? Like a coral iPhone XR. Would you raise your kids differently than your parents raised you? I’m not having kids. What was the best part about college? The learning, some of the assignments, projects, and books we read, and in community college I was a board member for the psych club, which was a lot of fun. Overall I’d say I liked college, but I wouldn’t have said that during. During that time I got very stressed out, overwhelmed, and burnt out. Crazy to be able to look back and say I liked it overall. And it was a time I was doing something with my life and felt like I was working towards something. If you were homeschooled, did you come up with a school mascot? If so, what? I wasn’t homeschooled. Are you really “wild & free”? Nope. Do you wish to be a free spirit? I’d like to be more independent. I’d like to enjoy and actually live life, not letting fear or my health or myself or anything hold me back. Where would you go and what would you do if you could do anything? I’d love to just travel all over. Would you ever take a solo road trip? Nooo. Do the mountains fascinate you? They’re beautiful. What is the most fascinating part of nature? Nature is quite fascinating and beautiful.
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One Big Happy Family - Chapter 2/2
Another entry in the series: Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered
Summary: It’s never the right time to meet the in-laws, is it? Kurt and Blaine have surprise guests.
Rated: G Characters: Kurt Hummel, Blaine Anderson, Burt Hummel, Carole Hudson-Hummel, Pam Anderson Words: ~4800 AU, Mashup with the 1960′s US tv series Bewitched Warnings: None Chapters: 2 of 2
Notes: And Chapter 2!
Read the rest of the verse:
I Married A Witch - AO3, tumblr
One Big Happy Family - AO3
thanks to my beta @honeysucklepink!
--
The neighborhood tour goes smoother than Kurt could hope for. Carole manages to slip her arm through Blaine’s right at the start of their walk, and she deflects some of the more invasive questions he knows his dad wants to ask. Kurt has an uneasy feeling that this short trip is going to last an eternity.
Kurt tries to convince his dad that they should have dinner at a local Italian restaurant, but Burt insists they just go back to Kurt’s place and order Chinese food. It’s one of Burt’s favorite things to do, so Kurt relents, but he’s sure Burt just wants a quiet place to start his real line of questioning with Blaine. They get settled back at Kurt’s apartment and Kurt wanders off to the kitchen to place their order.
When he rejoins Blaine and his parents all sitting in the living room they are in mid conversation, but it’s Carole talking, so he’s not too worried. Blaine smiles at him, but doesn’t look like he’s been raked over by Burt yet. Kurt spares a glance at his dad, who seems to be content to listen, at least for the moment.
“So how long have you been a teacher Blaine?” Carole asks. “Kurt said you teach kindergarten?”
“Um, yes, yes I do. And I’ve been teaching for just three years. I have one more class in early development to take to finish my masters.”
“And when will you be taking that?” Burt asks.
“I’ll be taking it during the school year, at night.”
“I didn’t realize you had another class to take,” Kurt says, momentarily surprised, but sitting down next to his husband on the couch and tangling his fingers in Blaine’s. Blaine gives him a grateful smile. “Did you tell me that and I forgot already?” Kurt instantly regrets saying anything when he sees the suspicious look on his dad’s face.
“Actually I don’t think I did,” Blaine answers, oblivious to Burt’s expression. “I’ll have to head up to Columbia two nights a week for the semester, then do some in-class certification.”
“You didn’t know that Kurt?” Burt asks, and Kurt sees Carole roll her eyes.
“We haven’t really got around to talking about the fall schedule yet, Dad. As I told you on the phone, school doesn’t end for a couple weeks and Blaine is busy. Besides, we’re really focused on getting the apartment ready to sell, so we can start looking for something a little bigger.”
“So what do you do to keep yourself busy in the summers?” Carole asks. Kurt appreciates that she’s trying to keep the conversation to simple topics, even if he can see his dad waiting to pounce.
“Oh!” Blaine genuinely grins, and Kurt can’t help but smile too. Blaine’s smile was one of the things that had captivated him from the start. “I teach music too, to kids mostly, so in the summer I have some extra classes during the week.”
“Oh, do you teach singing?” Burt asks.
“No, at least no one’s ever asked.” Blaine’s hands are flitting around a little, obviously nervous in front of Burt, and Kurt wonders if he can will Blaine to relax just with his thoughts. “I’m not sure I’d be a good vocal coach, but I teach piano and guitar, and once someone asked for ukulele lessons - that was fun, I sort of had to teach myself along the way that time.”
“You do this in your apartment?”
“Uh huh. The front room - you walk right past it before the living room, is set up as my studio. I teach a couple of days after school now, and sometimes on Saturdays. But I’m trying to keep Saturdays free now so Kurt and I can have that time together.” Blaine looks over at Kurt and smiles softly. Burt just grunts.
“What about your family? Are they in the area?”
“Burt, give the boy a break,” Carole scolds. She’s gentle but Burt doesn’t pursue it further.
“It’s okay,” Blaine answers. “I know this was a bit of a surprise, and we have a lot to learn about each other.” Kurt is impressed. “My mother has an apartment in the city, but her primary residence is near Boston,” Blaine says.
“Primary?” Burt is leaning forward in his chair, like he always does when he watches college football, so Kurt steps in to try to take some of the heat off Blaine.
“Blaine’s mother grew up in Europe, Dad,” Kurt tries to explain. He even thinks that’s right, although he’s doesn’t know the exact history of Blaine’s family; every time Kurt asks more probing questions Blaine gets evasive with his answers - but he’s pretty sure this will satisfy his dad for the moment. He can get more details from Blaine later, before they have to introduce them to each other. “She came to the states after she and Blaine’s father broke up.”
Burt scowls a little, but it’s mild, and Kurt is pretty sure he’s the only one who catches it, Carole had pulled Blaine’s attention away from Burt again, and Kurt is going to have to raid the Vogue sample closet for the scarf and the Hermés bag to thank her for her help this weekend.
“So how are things at Vogue honey?” Carole asks.
“Oh, so good,” Kurt leaps at the question. “We have a busy schedule coming up. We’ve started planning the spring issue already so there are photo shoots to prepare, and we are doing final retouching on the fall issue so that can get to print.” Kurt’s about to continue when Blaine excuses himself and leaves the room. Kurt watches him for a moment, then goes on telling Carole about the photo shoots, but when Blaine doesn’t return in a few minutes he starts to worry.
Kurt’s about to get up to make sure his husband is okay when Blaine comes back into the living room, eyes wide and mouth tight, and shakes his head once, so Kurt doesn’t ask what’s going on (but that answers the question about whether or not Blaine can communicate with him telepathically, which is a little disappointing Kurt has to admit). Less than a minute later the doorbell rings.
“Ooh that must be dinner.” Kurt jumps up and heads to the door, not hearing Blaine call after him until he already had has one hand on the doorknob.
When he opens the door he is not greeted by his favorite delivery person, but by an attractive, slightly older woman, with striking grey streaks in her hair, and hazel eyes so identical to Blaine’s that Kurt is momentarily speechless. She’s dressed in a navy and silver caftan-like dress that Kurt estimates must have cost in the thousands of dollars. He has never seen this woman before, not even in pictures, but his heart leaps into his throat because she can only be one person.
“You must be Kirby,” she says, holding her hand out in a gesture that clearly expects Kurt to kiss the back of it.
“It’s Kurt, Mother,” Blaine corrects tersely as he appears at Kurt’s side. “As I am sure you know.” Blaine looks at Kurt. “Mother, this is my husband. Kurt Hummel.” She hmms and looks Kurt over, but he does manage to take her hand. “Kurt, this is my mother. Pamela Anderson.”
Kurt wants to laugh but nothing comes out; he recovers quickly though. “It’s an unexpected pleasure. Blaine has told me so much about you.”
Pam looks innocently at Blaine. “You said come by for dinner this weekend, didn’t you Blaine dear? Did I get the date wrong?”
Kurt looks at Blaine, who is glaring at his mother but doesn’t say anything.
“No, it’s -” Kurt is sure this evening will turn into a disaster of some intensity, but until he can get Blaine alone to find out exactly how worried he should be, he lets his perfect host instincts kick in and rolls with it. “It’s perfect. It just so happens that my parents are here for the weekend. You should definitely join us.”
Kurt ushers his mother-in-law into the apartment, and into the living room where Burt and Carole are looking confused.
“Dad, Carole, this is Blaine’s mother, Pam Anderson.” Kurt introduces, and Burt stands and looks at Kurt.
“Yes, um, I forgot that I told her she could come over this weekend and we’d have dinner,” Blaine explains, covering for the surprise.
“Well I wanted to meet your new husband dear. This was all so sudden.”
“That’s what I said,” Burt says to Pam. “I didn’t even know Kurt was dating someone new and he calls me and tells me he’s married -”
“That’s enough Dad,” Kurt stops him. “We all know Blaine and I had a whirlwind courtship, but the important thing to remember is that we’re both happy.” The last thing Kurt needs right now is his dad bellowing about how his and Blaine’s marriage was too spur of the moment.
Luckily, before Burt can start up again, the door buzzer goes off again, and this time it is the delivery person with their food. Kurt doesn’t want to leave his dad alone with Blaine’s mother, but he does want at least a moment to speak to Blaine privately, so he asks Blaine to join him to set the table. He shares a meaningful look with Carole and just hopes she can keep everything under control.
“Blaine what is going on?” Kurt whispers. He wonders if Blaine could put them them in some kind of a cone of silence, but he doesn’t say it.
“Kurt I am so - she just showed up in the kitchen!” Blaine whispers back. “When I got up before I knew she was here. I wanted to cut her off before she just appeared in the living room. I tried to get her to leave but she was not taking no for an answer after I told her your parents were here. I told her that if she wanted to stay for dinner she had to ring the buzzer like a normal person and come in through the front door.” Blaine’s arms were crossed over his chest and he was tapping his foot, something he did when he was angry or frustrated. “She’s the one who changed the furniture,” Blaine whispers. “This has the potential to be a very big disaster.”
Kurt nods. “Oh I know. Your mom and my dad? We’ll just have to try to keep the conversation light. Carole will help. She already trying to keep my dad from - I don’t know what, dragging me back to Ohio? I have no idea what he’s actually thinking. This is all so weird.”
“I know exactly what my mother is thinking and I’d like to keep any of her hijinx under control this evening.”
“How bad could it get?” Kurt is genuinely curious, although he’d like to keep the evening from getting completely out of control. Blaine’s eyebrows rise so high they practically leave his forehead. "Disaster. Right," he murmurs, taking the stack of plates out to the dining table.
Once the table is set and all of the various dishes laid out Kurt makes the few steps to the living room to gather everyone.
“So did you know Blaine was dating Kurt before they sprung this on us?” Kurt can hear his dad talking to Pam.
“Not exactly, but I could tell something was going on with Blaine” Her tone sounds more amused than Burt’s, but there is an edge that Kurt is sure he doesn’t want to explore without Blaine there to help navigate. “I know my son, and he was definitely acting different.”
“Alright everyone, dinner is ready,” he interrupts, stepping through the high arch to the living room. “If you’ll join Blaine and I at the table we can continue this conversation with me and Blaine rather than have you talk about us behind our backs.” Kurt can feel the edge behind his comment, but he’s not particularly interested in letting the evening get too far out of his control. He gives his dad a warning look as he walks past.
Pam takes the head of the table, seemingly oblivious to Blaine’s frustrated fussing as he moves platters and dishes on the table to fractionally different positions. Blaine was already agitated by the sudden appearance of Kurt’s parents, but since his mother’s arrival his energy has been frenetic. Kurt is trying not to panic himself.
Blaine and Kurt take seats next to each other on one side of the table, and Burt and Carole sit across from them. Burt’s eyes light up when he spies the plate of egg rolls, and Carole gives him the go ahead to eat whatever he wants this evening, effectively distracting him at least for the moment.
“Blaine?” It’s Pam, and she’s raised one carefully sculpted eyebrow in the direction of her son.
“It’s Chinese food, Mother. We didn’t know you were coming or I’d have made other arrangements.” Kurt notices the fingertip of her left hand tapping on the table, and wonders for a second if she’s going to conjure up her own meal right there in front of Burt. “Several of the dishes are steamed, I’m sure you can find something you like.”
“You don’t care for Chinese food?” Kurt asks. Blaine really has not talked much about his mother, other than that bizarre first day in the hotel, so Kurt doesn’t really know what to expect, other than that Blaine finds her somewhat difficult to deal with. Kurt can see as much, even with just these few interactions, but he also knows that relationships between parents and children can come with a lot of baggage, and he’s as determined to have his mother-in-law like him as he is for his own father to accept Blaine into their family. Thankfully, he’s not worried about Carole at all, and he spares a moment to smile at his step-mother across the table. Maybe she’d like that navy Calvin Klein shift dress he’s had stashed in the closet in his office for a special occasion.
Pam just hums in response to Kurt’s question. Blaine answers, “The MSG doesn’t agree with her.”
“Oh.” Kurt sits and reached for an egg roll of his own. “I don’t think this place uses -” he stops talking after a pleading glance from Blaine. “Better safe than sorry though,” he finishes. He smiles in the direction of his mother-in-law, but she’s looking at Burt and Carole as if she’s conducting an inspection.
“So, where did you get married?” Carole asks, distracting Kurt away from Pam. “Did you get married at one of those Elvis chapels? I always thought that would be fun.”
“Well in fact there was someone dressed as Elvis at the wedding,” Kurt answers, trying to play up the fun part of their nuptials. He holds back on telling them about the drag queen, at least for now. “I think that’s part of the package.”
“Did you get any pictures?” Carole asks. Kurt knows and appreciates that she is trying to keep the conversation light, but he can sense the suspicious interest radiating off of both Burt and Pam, and he’s at a bit of a loss at how to battle it. Blaine has so far been silent next to him, but his leg is jiggling under the table and Kurt is starting to worry about him just a little.
“Yes there was one photo included in the wedding package,” Kurt decides to talk to Carole rather than try to include everyone. Maybe they’ll all be content to sit and listen.
“You have one photo of your wedding?” Burt asks. So much for being content. “That’s it?”
“Well we didn’t exactly plan it, Dad. As you already know.”
“I do know.” Burt frowns. He obviously wants to ask more questions. Kurt decides to roll the dice.
“You obviously have some questions, Dad. Why don’t you just ask me? We’re all here, let’s get this all out in the open.” Kurt glares at his father. He’s not sure this is really a good idea, but he’s got Blaine and together they can handle their parents. “What is it that bothers you about my marrying Blaine - who I love, Dad.”
That takes the wind out of Burt’s sails, but only for a moment. Everyone is watching Kurt and Burt.
“Yeah, okay. Fine. I have questions, Kurt. First off, you can tell me how my son, who spent all of first grade designing elaborate weddings for his Power Rangers, complete with multiple costume changes, wedding playlists and menus with a vegan option - weddings that I attended more than one of I might add - and who has no less than five overstuffed wedding binders still under his bed at home - you can tell me how his wedding ‘just happens’ at an Elvis chapel in Las Vegas, without a tuxedo, or a string quartet, or so much as a word to his dad!” Burt almost chokes on his last word, but he holds his ground.
“Burt!” Carole turns to stare at Burt before Kurt can say anything.
“Those sound like perfectly reasonable questions to me,” Pam interjects, her tone almost too mild, before turning to look at her son. “Blaine, dear?”
Kurt, still stunned by his dad’s outburst, turns to look at his husband, but Blaine is staring at the table, gripping the edge with both hands. Before Kurt can react to anything, Blaine is pushing away from the table with a mumbled excuse me. Kurt hears the click of a door shutting and it pulls him out of his shock. He stands, glaring at Pam too for good measure as he throws his napkin on the table.
“What the hell, Dad?” Is all he can manage before he goes off in search of Blaine.
Kurt doesn’t think Blaine would have shut himself in the bedroom so he heads for the bathroom. The door is shut, so he knocks quietly. “Blaine, it’s me.”
He hears a click and sees the knob turn and the door drift open a few inches. Kurt opens it enough to slip through, and sees Blaine half sitting on the counter tipping a glass of what looks like whisky into his mouth. He watches as Blaine drains the glass then toss it into thin air.
“I’m so sorry Kurt.” He tilts his head and Kurt can see his face. He looks more defeated than upset.
“Why? You didn’t do anything. Our collective parents, on the other hand, they could use a Groupon for an etiquette class.” Blaine chokes out a single laugh. Mission accomplished.
Blaine shakes his head. “No that’s not - I mean yes. My mother needs to go to etiquette camp.” Blaine hugs himself and sighs. “But what I meant is, I am sorry you didn’t have what you wanted. Your dream wedding. I’m sorry this all turned out,” Blaine waves his hands around, and Kurt flinches, not entirely sure what’s about to appear out of thin air. “Like this.” He shakes his head again and goes back to staring at the floor.
“Blaine.” There have been a couple of times since they got married when Blaine has expressed concern that he somehow tricked Kurt into marrying him, and that if Kurt had any sense he’d want to get out of it. Kurt thinks this is because Blaine hadn’t mentioned the whole being a witch thing, and Kurt has tried to reassure him that that doesn’t matter. And it doesn’t, not to Kurt. So he really wants Blaine to hear what he has to say now. He puts a hand on Blaine’s shoulder, pulling him closer.
“Blaine I need you to listen to me, really listen. I love you. So we got married in Vegas, I don’t love you any less because of it.”
“But your binders. All your plans. This isn’t what you wanted.”
Kurt shrugs. “I’m also not a love starved gay teenager with nowhere to put my romantic feelings other than in a wedding binder any more.” Blaine laughs softly. “And if we are going to stand any chance at all against our parents we have to really stay on our toes. Together.”
Kurt pulls him into a kiss then. Not a quick peck on the lips though. He wants Blaine to know, really know, that he wants him. He cradles Blaine’s face with both hands, teasing his tongue into his mouth easily as Blaine gives in to it. Blaine grunts softly and wraps his arms around Kurt’s waist moving closer until they are pressed against each other chest to knees. Kurt slides his hands down over Blaine’s shoulders, not stopping until he reaches his ass.
“I really wish we could finish this right here,” Blaine pants, practically into Kurt’s mouth.
“Can’t, mmm, can’t we? You could do that -” Kurt waves a hand over his head, “like at the party? Who would know?” He dives in again, covering Blaine’s mouth with his.
Blaine stops kissing him long enough to mumble my mother, and that’s enough to throw figurative cold water into Kurt’s pants.
“Blaine, I thought you told me she doesn’t know every time we have sex. Because honestly I don’t think I can handle that. And if she did it would explain why she hates me so much.”
Blaine bites his lip with a grin. “No, she doesn’t. But she’d know I was using magic, I’m close enough that she’ll feel it. And it would be harder for me to stop time for her.” Blaine wriggles in Kurt’s arms. “She’d know.”
Kurt sighs dramatically, but they put themselves back together anyway.
“Ready?” Kurt asks once they’re presentable.
Blaine nods. “You go. I need a minute.” Kurt kisses him, a peck on the lips this time, and leaves the bathroom.
Kurt has more than a few things to say to his dad, and is almost sure he’s ready to stand up to Pam too - although she hasn’t really said that much, so he may just let Blaine handle her when he thinks it’s appropriate.
“Dad,” he starts as he nears the dining room. “We need to -”
Kurt stops and stares, not sure that he’s actually seeing the sight in front of his eyes. There is a small pig on the table, its face in a bowl of sesame noodles, and a large chicken just...sitting on a plate. Kurt doesn’t know how long he stares, but he does know he wants to scream and he can’t. He remembers that Pam is there, and when he looks in her direction she is relaxed in her chair, examining her nails.
“Maybe orange,” he thinks he hears her say. She blinks and smiles, turning her hand to show Kurt her new instant manicure. Kurt definitely wants to scream.
“Mother what have you done!” Blaine rushes past him just as the chicken ruffles its feathers and jump-flies off of the table and down the hall. “Fix it. Fix it right now.”
“Blaine?” Kurt finally manages. “What, what is happening. I don’t - where are my parents?”
“You were gone so long,” Pam rolls her eyes. “I didn’t know what to talk to them about.”
Kurt spares a glance at Blaine, then looks back at the pig.
“What do you mean you didn’t know what to talk to them about? You and Burt must have a million more terrible things to say about the fact that Kurt and I are married.”
“Oh we did talk about that. But then he started asking questions about your dad and I really couldn’t be bothered.”
“So you turned them into farm animals?”
Kurt doesn’t know why he didn’t figure it out himself. “Blaine? Blaine change them back.”
“I can’t.” Blaine crosses his arms over his chest angrily and continues to glare at his mother.
“What do you mean you can’t?” The pig on the table that is either his dad or Carole finishes up with the bowl of noodles and crashes over the other containers, sniffling into each one as it picks out its next course. “Do magic. Change them back.” Kurt waves his hands at the pig.
“A witch can’t undo another witch’s magic Kurt. It’s just not possible. My mother will do this.” Blaine turns to her. “Or there will be dire consequences.”
Pam scoffs, but for the first time tonight Kurt can see something that looks like concern in her eyes. Blaine stares her down, and if the circumstances were different Kurt would definitely find it hot. “You wouldn’t,” she challenges.
“Do you honestly think I won’t pick Kurt, Mother?”
Pam flinches and half stands up, and for a split second Kurt isn’t sure she won’t simply make them all disappear. But she sits and they don’t disappear, and Kurt exhales and runs to the living room to try to find the chicken.
“Blaine I’ve never picked up a chicken before!” He corners it, backing away when it flaps its wings menacingly. “Do they bite?” Kurt thinks he can at least chase it back toward the dining room. Blaine runs into the room and snaps at the chicken and it stops flapping around. “I thought you couldn’t do that.”
“I can’t reverse the magic, but I can still do magic on the chicken.” Blaine approaches the bird slowly and picks it up, and Kurt follows him back to the dining room where he sets it on the table with the pig. “Mother?” Blaine prompts.
Pam scowls, but she stands and with an exaggerated flourish and, with an audible crack that sounds just like when lightning struck the tree outside his window when Kurt was eleven, the chicken and the pig turn back into Carole and Burt, the food on the table is all fresh and back to exactly the position it was in before. No signs that a pig or a chicken were ever there...
“- why didn’t he tell me? I had to miss my only son’s wedding, Carole. There was a time when I thought I was never -”
Burt stops talking when he realizes Kurt and Blaine are standing and staring at him.
“When did you get back?”
It takes Kurt a long second to catch up with everything. “Just - just now, Dad.” Kurt swallows and pulls out his chair, and he and Blaine both take their seats. “Dad, I -”
“Mr. Hummel,” Blaine interrupts. He covers Kurt’s hand on the table and gives it a squeeze “I want to apologize for anything I’ve done that made you feel - left out. I know it feels like Kurt and I marrying seems like an impulsive act, and maybe it was.” Burt nods at the acknowledgment. “But Mr. Hummel, I promise you I love your son, and I will do everything in my power to make him happy, and to earn your trust.”
Kurt is not prone to tears, but he has to wipe one away as it threatens to roll down his cheek. He squeezes Blaine’s hand and when Blaine looks at him he knows everything will be fine.
Burt is quiet for a moment before exhaling and rubbing his large hand over his face and the top of his head. Kurt knows he’s looking for the baseball cap that would normally be perched there. He nods at Blaine. “Yeah, um, call me Burt, son. Mr. Hummel was my dad, and he was a mean SOB.”
Kurt does let the tears fall now, and wraps an arm around Blaine in a sideways hug, kissing him on the top of his head. He can see Pam watching the goings on with interest, but she doesn’t react. She is going to be a tougher nut to crack than his dad, it seems.
--
Sunday night they are back at Blaine’s apartment (and Kurt really needs to start thinking about it as their apartment) - after Burt and Carole have left, and Blaine has assured his mother that he will call her during the week and they will have lunch - where Kurt drags his husband to bed and they burn off the stress of the previous thirty six hours.
“That could have gone worse,” Blaine observes, still sweaty and tucked under Kurt’s arm.
“What do you mean? That was fantastic.” Kurt gives Blaine a playful slap on his shoulder and Blaine giggles.
“I meant this weekend, with all our parents.”
“Oh, that? Yeah, piece of cake,” Kurt agrees. “Let’s never do that again, okay? I really don’t think I can handle my dad as an actual pig more than once in my lifetime.”
Blaine laughs again, and Salem jumps up on the bed; after confirming that they’re done bouncing around, she lays down across Kurt’s feet.
“At least Salem seems to have accepted me into the family,” Kurt observes.
“I never doubted that she would.”
#BBB: one big happy family#klaine fic#klaine fanfiction#bewitched au#bewitched bothered and bewildered
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LPGA Tour Star Lizette Salas has recently shared the latest addition to her wellness routine on Instagram that is helping to support her mind and body from the inside out: Persona Nutrition.
How did you get involved in golf? I spent a lot of time around the game when I was young because my dad worked for a golf course. He traded services with the head pro so that he would teach me how to play. It gave me an opportunity that has opened so many doors and become such an important part of my life.
How do you prepare for tournaments? I work with two coaches. One of my coaches has been with me for many years and helps me with my full swing. I work with a second coach off and on who helps with my short game. Additionally, I work with a trainer when I am home in Los Angeles, and he comes on the road with me for certain events as well. I feel like I have assembled a great team to help me get to where I need to go, and I have been blessed with a good work ethic so I always feel prepared.
As a golfer you’re traveling often for tournaments – what helps you stay on top of your game? Sometimes travel interferes with my ability to work out regularly or with the proper equipment. I have to be creative to get my workouts in on the road.
What does personalized nutrition mean to you? Nutrition is such a huge component for athletes. With the amount of processed foods, I don’t think we’re getting many of the nutrients that we need, and a personalized nutrition plan becomes necessary. Persona helps takes care of my personalized nutrition so I can focus on my game and play my best.
So explain more about the personalized nutrition company, Persona that you have been partnering with? Persona is the leading personalized supplement service on the market. They also have a free online assessment I took to get my vitamin and supplement recommendations and it factors in my personal needs, especially as it pertains to Golf and fitness. My lifestyle, dietary preferences, stress levels, sleep patterns, health conditions and prescription medications were all considered as well to create personalized supplement recommendations specific to me that are actually delivered to my door each month in a pre-sorted, time-coded daily tear-off packs. It’s amazing for on the go which, I’m always traveling here and there with my tournament schedule.
What makes Persona different from another personalized nutrition company? Persona takes the guess work out of the dietary supplement aisle by aligning science, data and technology to deliver personalized nutrition safely and conveniently. For someone like myself who’s been playing college-level and professional sports for so long; I might be a little more versed in this space. But for someone who is just starting to take vitamins, the personalization and guidance are incredibly valuable. Additionally, Persona is also the only personalized nutrition company that cross-references more than 1,000 prescription medications to help avoid risky nutrient interactions.
Why do drug-nutrient interactions matter? It’s important to have an understanding of drug-nutrient interactions (DNIs) if you decide to take both supplements and prescription medications. Vitamins and supplements can have a negative effect on your health if taken incorrectly. Since I’m continually on the go, if I’m hit with a negative DNI, it not only screws up my day, it could screw up my week and potentially my job/career if I have a tournament that week.
What do you look to achieve for the future? My desire is to continually strive to be better at my craft and influence kids to achieve their goals through the work that I do with the San Gabriel Jr. Golf Program.
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Books to Read in 2019
This past year I finished reading MAYBE 2 books. How incredibly disappointing is that? In high school I read ALL THE TIME, and I have a whole wall covered in books, yet I have barely read! I’m really going to force myself to read more this next year. I know for a FACT that my semester next year will hinder my goal, but I’m hoping to follow this plan as closely as I can (although I am darn positive that I probably won’t be able to finish all of these). Most of these books I have selected relate to other personal goals I hope to achieve. The boldened titles are the books I feel are most important in my personal growth (and thus the books I will read first). I’m also hoping my love for reading can be reignited. I know a lot of us can lose the habit of reading, especially with busy college schedules, so I’ve added the descriptions of the books (from the back or from the amazon descriptions) I hope to read in case any of you would also like to read more!
Productivity Books
1. The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People by Stephen R. Covey
In The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People People, author Stephen R. Covey presents a holistic, integrated, principal-centered approach for solving personal and professional problems. With penetrating insights and pointed anecdotes, Covey reveals a step-by-step pathway for living with fairness, integrity, honesty, and human dignity- principles that give us the security to adapt to change, and the wisdom and power to take advantage of the opportunities that change creates.
2. Getting Things Done by David Allen
In today’s world, yesterday’s methods just don’t work. Veteran coach and management consultant David Allen shares his his breakthrough methods for stress-free performance that he has introcued to tens of thousands of people across the country. Aleen’s premis is simple: our productivity is directly proportional to our ability to relax. Only when our minds are clear and our thoughts are organized can we achieve effective results and unleash our creative potential. From core principles to proven tricks, Getting Things Dones can transform the way you work an live, showing you how to pick up the pace without wearing yourself down.
Meditation and Buddhist Books (from Wisdom Publications mostly)
3. Zen Vows for Daily Life by Robert Aitken
Zen Vows for Daily Life is a collection of gathas, vows in verse form for daily practice, similar to prayers or affirmations for use at home, at work, and in the meditation hall itself. Reciting these poetic vows can help us be fully present in each moment and each activity of our lives. These gathas serve as gentle reminders to return again and again to our highest aspirations, with acceptance, joy, and compassion—for ourselves and all beings. Zen Vows for Daily Life will be a steadfast companion in keeping the reader inspired and committed on their spiritual path.
4. A Heart Full of Peace by Joseph Goldstein
Love, compassion, and peace—these words are at the heart of all spiritual endeavors. Although we intuitively resonate with their meaning and value, for most of us, the challenge is how to embody what we know: how to transform these words into a vibrant, living practice. In these times of conflict and uncertainty, this transformation is far more than an abstract ideal; it is an urgent necessity. Peace in the world begins with us. This wonderfully appealing offering from one the most trusted elders of Buddhism in the West is a warm and engaging exploration of the ways we can cultivate and manifest peace as wise and skillful action in the world.
This charming book is illuminated throughout with lively, joyous, and sometimes even funny citations from a host of contemporary and ancient sources—from the poetry of W.S. Merwin and Galway Kinnell to the haiku of Issa and the great poet-monk Ryokan, from the luminous aspirations of Saint Francis of Assisi to the sage advice of Thich Nhat Hanh and the Dalai Lama.
5. Open Mind by B. Allan Wallace
Lerab Lingpa (1856–1926), also known as Tertön Sogyal, was one of the great Dzogchen (Great Perfection) masters of the nineteenth and early-twentieth centuries and a close confidant and guru of the Thirteenth Dalai Lama. This volume contains translations by B. Alan Wallace of two works that are representative of the lineage of this great “treasure revealer,” or tertön. This volume will be of great interest for all those interested in the theory and practice of the Great Perfection and the way it relates to the wisdom teachings of Tsongkhapa and others in the new translation schools of Tibetan Buddhism.
6. Interconnected by Ogyen Tinley Dorje
Plucked from a humble nomad family to become the leader of one of Tibet’s oldest Buddhist lineages, the young Seventeenth Karmapa draws on timeless values to create an urgent ethic for today’s global community. The Karmapa shows us how gaining emotional awareness of our connectedness can fundamentally reshape the human race. He then guides us to action, showing step by step how we can change the way we use the earth’s resources and can continue to better our society. In clear language, the Karmapa draws connections between such seemingly far-flung issues as consumer culture, loneliness, animal protection, and self-reliance. In the process, he helps us move beyond theory to practical and positive social and ethical change.
7. I Wanna Be Well by Miguel Chen
A punk rocker’s guide to grow, learn, and appreciate the present moment—in short, to live a life that doesn’t totally suck.
8. Discovering Your Soul Signature by Panache Desai
Your soul signature is your spiritual DNA - it is who you are at your core, the most authentic part of you, and your singular contribution to this world. And yet, we reject our authentic selvs. We allow our soul sigature to become blocked by any number of emotional obstacles that life throws in ou path: anger, fear, guilt, shame, sadness, despair. Any or all of these feelings overtake us and create a density, a heaviness that doesn’t permit us to embrace who we truly are, deep inside. We are energetic beings, Panache Desai reminds us, and emotions are energy in motion. When we are blocked we feel unworthy, less than, unloved, incomplete.
In Discovering Your Soul Signature, Panache Desai invites us on a 33-day path of meditations-- shot passages to be read at morning, noon, and night that are designed to dismantle the emotional burden that holds us back and open us up to changing our lives. Through this distilled, poetic, practical, and inspiring course, he invites us to live a life of authenticity, to rediscover purpose and passion, and to believe from our soul in the possibility of all things.
9. As Man Thinketh by James Allen
This little volume (the result of meditation and experience) is not intended as an exhaustive treatise on the much-written upon subject of the power of thought. It is suggestive rather than explanatory, its object being to stimulate men and women to the discovery and perception of the truth that -
"They themselves are makers of themselves" by virtue of the thoughts which they choose and encourage; that mind is the master weaver, both of the inner garment of character and the outer garment of circumstance, and that, as they may have hitherto woven in ignorance and pain they may now weave in enlightenment and happiness.
Religious Books
10. The Miracle of Forgiveness by Spencer W. Kimball
In The Miracle of Forgiveness, President Spencer W Kimball gives a penetrating explanation of repentance and forgiveness and clarifies their implications for Church members. His in-depth approach shows that the need for forgiveness is universal; portrays the various facets of repentance, and emphasizes some of the more serious errors, particularly sexual ones, which afflict both modern society and Church members. Most important, he illuminates his message with the brightness of hope that even those who have gone grievously astray may find the way back to peace and security. Never before has any book brought this vital and moving subject into so sharp a focus. This classic book is a major work of substance and power.
Science Books
11. God’s Equation by Amir D. Aczel
In God’s Equation, Amir Aczel tells the story of what lies between these events: the history of modern physics and the development of the sciene of cosmology, the study of the nature of the universe.
Other Books
12. A Clockwork Orange by Anthony Burgess
In Anthony Burgess's nightmare vision of the future, where criminals take over after dark, the story is told by the central character, Alex, who talks in a brutal invented slang that brilliantly renders his and his friends' social pathology. A Clockwork Orange is a frightening fable about good and evil, and the meaning of human freedom. When the state undertakes to reform Alex—to "redeem" him—the novel asks, "At what cost?"
13. Walden and Civil Disobedience by Henry David Thoreau
In 1845, Thoreau moved to a cabin that he built with his own hands along the shores of Walden Pond in Massachusetts. Shedding the trivial ties that he felt bound much of humanity, Thoreau reaped from the land both physically and mentally, and pursued truth in the quiet of nature. In Walden, he explains how separating oneself from the world of men can truly awaken the sleeping self. Thoreau holds fast to the notion that you have not truly existed until you adopt such a lifestyle—and only then can you reenter society, as an enlightened being. These simple but profound musings—as well as “Civil Disobedience,” his protest against the government’s interference with civil liberty—have inspired many to embrace his philosophy of individualism and love of nature. More than a century and a half later, his message is more timely than ever.
14. The Art of Worldly Wisdom by Baltasar Gracian
In the Art of Worldly Wisdom Baltasar Gracian gives us pertinent and pithy advice on friendship, leadership, and success. Think of it as Machiavelli with a soul. This book is for those who wish to have an ambitious plan for success without compromising their integrity or losing their way. Audacious and captivating!
15. For One More Day by Mitch Albom
For One More Day is the story of a mother and a son, and a relationship that lasts a lifetime and and beyond. It explores the question: What would you do if you could spend one more day with a lost loved one?
#books#resolutions#studyblr#reading#books to read#list#a clockwork orange#wisdom publications#as man thinketh#Anthony burgess#james allen#meditation#wisdom#2019#science#school#read#read more#goals#productivity#effectiveness
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twitter fic #2
Hux was a planner. Ever since he had been gifted his very first planner, on the first day of high school, everything in his life had been planned down to the most minute detail. Everything was meticulously written down and planned in advance.
Including his sexual debut.
Losing one's virginity in high school? Too much of a cliché (also likely to be messy and unpleasant).
Losing one's virginity in college? Also a cliché, but much more tasteful.
Losing one's virgnity after college? No, that would ruin the sexual experimentation period he had planned. Hux simply needed to make his debut, so he could move on to the experimental phase. Then he would have it out of his system by the time he got his master's.
His plan was perfect. Now it was just a matter of finding the perfect candidate. It would have to be someone older. Someone experienced. His fellow freshmen were obviously out of the question. And it had to be a man.
Hux believed himself to be a gay man, but he kept an open mind. After all, that was what the experimental phase was for. But his first had to be a man.
So, Hux made a list in his planner. A detailed list with names and descriptions.
The list was revised over and over again, as the candidates' relationship status and/or sexual orientation took them off the list.
In the midst of revising, Hux encountered an unforeseen problem.
He had no idea what his type was.
Hux found a bench, on a busy part of campus and quietly considered the people walking by. What did he like? What physical traits spoke to him?
Hux made a new list
- They had to take care of their appearance.
- And dress well.
- Have nice hair.
- Tall?
It was a waste of a lovely afternoon and Hux wasn't any closer to a conclusion.
Hux continued his research in his dorm. He perused instagram and various websites, trying to get a feel for what kind of man made his heart race. Of course, it wasn't a necessity. The candidate didn't have to make him feel anything other than arousal.
But since Hux didn't date in high school (he was much too busy with his extracurriculars to even entertain the thought (and no one ever asked him)), he might as well figure it out. No time like the present.
While waiting for class to begin, Hux was rewriting his list af attractive traits (with colored pens). He had decided he had a fairly firm grasp on what type of man he was looking for now.
Until his professor made an announcement.
"Class! I would like to introduce a grad student of mine. Kylo, stand up, please? Kylo will be teaching this class next semester, so he will be here and observe how it's done, for the remainder of the semester."
Oh no.
It was The One.
An absolute mammoth of a man, dressed in jeans and a hoodie. He looked nothing like the men on Hux's list. He didn't possess any of the traits on the attractive traits list either.
But Hux knew.
He had to have him.
New plan. Hux needed a new plan. Seduction was out of the question. Seduction was for relationships. Also, Hux had no idea how to do that. He would just. Introduce himself. Proposition the man. Like an adult. Maybe explain why?
No. No, that was a bad idea. Explaining it would imply no one else was interested in Hux. (They weren't, but Kylo didn't need to know that.) He should revise his planner, set aside time to come up with a plan of attack.
Hux came to the painful realization that he should have paid more attention to his peers; engaged in social activities more often. If it had been one of his father's associates, Hux would have known exactly how to make his proposition. But Kylo was a peer.
Luckily for Hux, the answer to his metaphorical prayers came all on its own.
Right as Hux arrived for class, Kylo left a stack of flyers on their professor's desk. Curious, Hux skimmed the text. A free ("trans inclusive!") sex ed seminar, hosted by the art department.
"It's super chill."
Hux startled and turned, his wide eyes meeting Kylo's. "Pardon?"
"The seminar. We do it once a semester."
"We? You speak at this thing?"
"Yeah," Kylo smiled kindly.
"It's important. To me."
"I'll be there!" Hux's mouth said, without any input from his brain.
Kylo smiled and watched while Hux shoved the flyer into his bag, and stumbled his way up the stairs to his seat. He couldn't see Kylo from way up there, but it was better that way. For his grade's sake.
Hux was under the impression that he had been very thorough, while conducting his research in preperation for college. The sexual relations part.
Hux was wrong.
Terribly, terribly wrong.
Kylo was one of three speakers, at the seminar. Thank God, Kylo was gonna be the one to guide him through his first time. Hux would be in good hands.
Hands the size of shovels.
It was entirely possible Hux missed some vital points while distracted by said hands.
After a series of very comprehensive presentations, the attendees were encouraged to mingle and ask any questions that they did not feel comfortable asking infront of the whole room. Hux waited patiently for the crowd to thin out. Rejection was a very real possibility.
He felt overdressed, even though he'd swapped his usual button up with a nice polo shirt. Kylo was wearing a hoodie and jeans ensemble again, sporting a cluster of pins in various different rainbow configurations. Hux knew they represented LGBT identities, but he wasn't well versed in LGBT affairs.
Kylo took notice of Hux waiting around for him and waved him closer. "I don't think we were formally introduced. I'm Kylo Ren."
"Armitage Hux. Please, call me Hux."
Kylo smiled kindly as his hand engulfed Hux's.
Hux took a deep breath and ignored the way Kylo's warm hand against his skin, made his heart race. "I have some questions."
"That's what I'm here for," Kylo smiled. "Go ahead."
"Are you attracted to men?"
Kylo was visibly thrown by the question, crossing his arms across his chest. "Yes?"
"Are you in a relationship?"
Kylo frowned. "Those are not the kind of questions I was referring to. But no, I'm not."
Hux nodded.
This was it.
"I have not yet made my sexual debut. I would like to do so, and I have been looking for the right partner. I believe that you would be a good choice." He cleared his throat, "I would like for you to be the first person I have sex with."
Kylo gaped at him. "What the actual fuck, Hux."
"Did I not make myself clear?" Hux frowned.
Kylo grunted and put his hands on his hips. He looked away. Then back at Hux. Then away again.
"You–You've been here for two hours, listening to us, and this is what you decide to do?"
"Don't be ridiculous. I knew I was going to ask before I got here."
Kylo made a choking sound and took a few steps backwards. "Did you not hear any of the presentations?"
Hux couldn't figure out if he was being rejected or not. "Of course I did. You said everyone have sex differently. This is how I do it."
"You're not having sex! You don't know that yet!" Kylo said, on the edge of hysteria. "Are you– Are you okay? Did something happen? Do you need help?" Kylo asked, moving back into Hux's personal space. "I sure as hell need help," he added, under his breath. "I don't think I'm qualified for this."
Hux crossed his arms and huffed. "If you don't want to, you can just say no. There's no need to be rude."
Kylo took a deep breath and rubbed his hands down his face. "Ok, I need you to walk me through your thought process here."
Hux looked at him for a moment. Kylo was awfully pretty up close.
"Well. I haven't had sex before, and there's only so much you can learn through research alone, so I believe having an experienced partner is the way to go. You're older than I am and you're very attractive, so I'm assuming you have experience. And I'm attracted to you."
Kylo blinked. "I– I have no idea how to reply to that."
"Are you rejecting me?"
"I have no idea what I'm doing."
Hux couldn't help but pout a little. If Kylo wasn't experienced, maybe he should take another look at his list of candidates. "But you have had sex, yes?"
"Yeah, but," Kylo closed his eyes. "Why did I answer that. No, ok, listen. Sex is– it's organic, ok? You can't just plan it like that. You can't put it in a spreadsheet and go this is what I'm gonna do. You can't do that, Hux. Especially not when you have zero experience."
Hux felt a little self conscious and put his hands in his pockets, averting his eyes. "I didn't put it in a spreadsheet. And why can't I plan it? I plan everything else. I like planning!"
Kylo's demeanor shifted minutely. He looked around the room, before moving closer to Hux.
"Listen, I– I'm not mad, ok? But I think you need to talk to someone about this, and I'm not sure I'm the right person for you to talk to."
Hux bit his lip. He didn't have anyone to talk to. He had a dormmate, but he'd rather die a virgin than talk to him about this.
"Why can't I talk to you?"
"If you have feelings for me, you might not be honest and just try to please me. It would be a waste of time."
Hux furrowed his brows. "I said I found you attractive, I didn't say I have feelings for you."
Kylo went bright red, all the way up to the tips of his ears. "O-oh."
One of the volunteers called out for Kylo. The last of the attendees were being shuffled out of the room, while the volunteers were cleaning up.
Kylo looked at Hux, at a loss for words.
Hux had truly lost control of the situation. The night had not gone to plan at all. He had to regain control. "Tuesday."
"What?"
"Tuesday. After class. Are you busy?"
Kylo shook his head. "I usually just go over the notes from class and nap."
"Let's meet after, then. You can explain to me why you think this is the wrong way for me to go about having sex - in depth - and I'll explain why you're wrong," he smiled.
"I'm not," Kylo replied, firmly.
"But you will meet with me?"
Kylo sighed. "Yes."
Tuesday, sitting in a secluded corner of the library, Hux was staring at Kylo. "I'm serious, Hux. Not everyone starts having sex in college."
Hux nodded. "Some do it in high school."
"And some do it after college, or they wait till they're married."
"Right. Religious people."
"And people who aren't ready. Some people don't have sex at all, and that's ok too."
Hux wrinkled his nose. "Why wouldn't you want to have sex?"
Kylo thumped his head against the wall behind him. "You were at the sex ed lecture for two hours, Hux."
Hux nodded again. "Yes, and I was listening, but that doesn't mean what you said made sense."
Kylo sighed deeply and ran his fingers through his hair (his luscious, bouncy, divine looking hair). "Alright. Tell me what you want your first time to be like."
"What do you mean?"
"What are you picturing when you think about it? Rose petals? Candles? Back of a car?"
Hux opened his mouth to reply, but.
He didn't have an answer.
He only ever pictured what came after.
Kylo looked at him softly. "Don't you want it to be nice?"
"I– I don't know."
Kylo scooted closer and put his hand on Hux's shoulder. "Your first time should be with someone you trust, someone who makes you feel safe. You're sharing your body with someone else. That's a big deal, even when you trust them. Have you done anything with anyone before?"
Hux looked at his hands. "I wasn't allowed to date, when I lived at home. Not that anyone asked me, but. No. I haven't done anything."
"Don't you wanna do that first, then? Have a first date, a first kiss?"
Hux felt his throat tighten up. He hastily turned his head, not wanting Kylo to see.
"There's no deadline on these things, Hux. Don't rush into it just because you think you should."
Hux swallowed thickly. He should've paid attention earlier – were they truly alone?
"What if," he had to clear his throat to get the words out. "What if no one wants me?" He glanced at Kylo.
Kylo didn't want him - why would anyone else? If he could get really good at sex, maybe someone would be willing to overlook how boring he was.
"Can I see the list?"
Hux rubbed his eyes. "What list?"
"What did you call it? The candidate list?"
"Oh."
Hux retrieved his planner from his satchel and handed it over. Kylo eyed him at the size of the planner, but didn't comment.
Hux found the tab that corresponded with the list and opened the planner to the correct page. The soft cover of the planner made it impossible for Kylo to hold it in his hands, so he balanced it on his thighs. Kylo read the list and made a soft sound. "So, why these people?"
"They're hot?"
Kylo looked unimpressed. Hux curled in on himself and muttered, "They look kind. And experienced. And confident."
Kylo hummed. "I'm not on here."
"I wasn't gonna ask everyone. I was gonna narrow it down until there was only one left. Then I saw you, and the list became redundant."
Kylo sighed softly. "I'm not sure I'm the right person for this, Hux."
Kylo may very well be right, but Hux didn't want him to be. "You haven't said no yet."
"I know."
Hux looked on in horror as Kylo turned to the next page in Hux's planner. Two of the pages were stuck together with a misplaced sticky tab, meaning Kylo skipped the page with the attractive traits list entirely, and ended up on the list of sex acts Hux had planned for his experimental phase.
Kylo audibly swallowed. The page was titled quite descriptively. There was no way to explain it away.
"I feel like I should point out I didn't tell you to turn the page. In my private planner."
Kylo closed the planner and laced his fingers on top of it. "I might be overstepping here, but I don't think you should do this. Any of it."
Hux didn't know how to respond. He looked at Kylo, brows furrowed.
"I think you're looking for something, but I don't think this is it."
Hux rose to his feet and took the planner from Kylo's lap. "You're wrong," he said, with finality. He jammed the planner into his bag and stormed out of the library.
Looking for something? What on Earth would he be looking for? He just wanted to have sex! Everyone else was having sex, but Kylo wasn't telling them to stop. And he still hadn't outright rejected Hux's proposition - what was Hux supposed to think! Honestly, Kylo was being very rude and if he hadn't been so good looking, Hux would've retracted his offer long ago.
Hux just wanted to touch someone and be touched in return! Was that really too much to ask for? He was constantly surrounded by people, strangers, who were having the time of their life! Laughing and talking and kissing and making plans – was it wrong to want that too?
Sure, his studies kept him busy, but he still had free time. Was it really so bad to want to spend that time with someone? It didn't even have to be se–
Oh no.
Hux spent the whole class on Tuesday, glaring daggers at the back of Kylo's head. The bastard was right. Hux had been stewing in his own misery for an entire week, being forced to realize how terribly lonely he truly was.
He needed an answer. A final answer, so he could move on.
Hux had been talking himself up for days, in preparation for the confrontation; but when it finally came down to it, he couldn't do it. Kylo looked just as uncertain as Hux felt.
Kylo was smiling softly, but he did not look happy. "Hux," he said, gently. "Hey."
Instead of demanding an answer, what came out of his mouth was, "Are you busy this weekend?"
Kylo shook his head. "No, why?"
"Would you like to go to the cinema with me?" At the look of surprise on Kylo's face, Hux hastily added, "There's a film I'd like to see, but, I don't want to go alone."
Kylo was fumbling with his belongings, trying to pack his bag without taking his eyes off of Hux for too long; as if he was a flight risk. "Wouldn't you rather go with someone you know?"
Just tell him, Hux thought.
"I don't know anyone else."
Surprisingly, Kylo freely offered his phone number. Hux didn't end up needing it, as Kylo showed up on time, exactly when and where they'd agreed. Hux braced himself for having his taste in films ridiculed as they paid for their tickets, but Kylo didn't as much as blink.
The fact that Kylo wasn't opposed to political thrillers, only made him more attractive in Hux's eyes. They hadn't discussed whether this little outing was, in fact, a date. In Hux's mind it was. A date wasn't inherently a romantic endeavour, or so Hux thought to himself.
The theatre wasn't very full. Hux and Kylo were rather secluded, in their corner of the room. They had laughed earlier, when they discovered they both preferred chocolates and sweets over popcorn. Kylo kept offering his bag of M&Ms during the course of the film. Hux didn't remember the last time he'd been to the cinema. Or anywhere for fun, really.
He kept glancing at Kylo. When the M&Ms where gone, Kylo put the empty packet in his pocket, and put his hands on his thighs. Hux couldn't take his eyes off of them. His fingers were long and pale in the light from the projector, bright against the black of his jeans.
Before he did it, Hux knew it was a silly thing to do. Especially considering everything they'd talked about. He gently put his own, smaller hand on top of Kylo's. Hux studiously kept his eyes on the screen, even though he could feel Kylo's eyes on his face.
He couldn't help but hold his breath until Kylo reacted. He was expecting Kylo to pull his hand away, or maybe get up and leave. But he didn't.
Kylo turned his palm and laced their fingers. His hand felt even bigger than when they'd shaken hands. Hux marveled at how much thicker Kylo's fingers felt, in between his own. He knew his hands were on the delicate side of the spectrum, but he almost felt dainty in comparison.
Once Hux was confident Kylo wasn't going to pull away, he gently tugged their joined hands into his own lap. Kylo looked alarmed for a moment, arm tensing, effectively halting the move.
Kylo looked sheepish when he realized Hux wasn't putting his hand on his dick. Hux just wanted to hold Kylo's hand in both of his own.
Kylo let his arm go slack and Hux made a soft pleased sound. Using two hands was much better. The film couldn't hold his attention anymore.
Hux played with Kylo's fingers while trying to figure out how to phrase his next proposal. Sex wasn't on the table – but maybe something else was? Hux looked at Kylo in the dark. His hair looked soft and bouncy. So did his lips. No, plump was a better word.
If Kylo wouldn't be his first sexual experience, maybe he'd be Hux's first something else. (Hux had already decided that they were on a date, which made Kylo his first date ever. But he wasn't gonna tell him that.)
Kylo licked his lips, practically making the decision for him.
"Kylo?"
"Mm?"
Hux leaned over the armrest and spoke quietly. "You can say no–"
"Not this again, Hux," he sighed and rubbed his eyes.
"No, no, I'm not asking for sex."
"Well, thank God."
"I want you to be my first kiss."
Kylo look a little stunned. "What?"
"Hear me out," Hux went on and gave his hand a little squeeze. "I just wanna know what it feels like. I'm not asking for anything else. If you don't want to see me ever again, after today, I respect that and I won't approach you again. But you have to answer. Yes or no?"
Kylo considered him for a drawn out moment. "Just a kiss?"
Hux nodded in affirmation.
"Just one?"
"I promise."
Kylo looked around them. The closest people were five rows away. He looked back at Hux and nodded once. "One kiss."
"One kiss," Hux repeated, heart racing.
His palms were getting sweaty. It was a relief when Kylo let go of his hand; right up until his cupped Hux's face. All the blood in his body rushed to his cheeks. There was no way Kylo couldn't feel the heat of the blood against his palms.
Hux wished his night vision was better. He couldn't make out the details of Kylo's face very well.
Kylo took his sweet time, just sitting there, holding Hux's face. It was unnerving, but Hux didn't dare move, let alone say anything. He was on the cusp of actually getting what he wanted, for once. If he ruined it, he would never be able to forgive himself.
Kylo sat up, leaning halfway out of his seat, in a move that couldn't be comfortable – but he was moving in. He tilted his head slightly, nose fitting perfectly beside Hux's, the tip of it pressing into his cheek. Their lips met and Hux forgot to breathe. Kylo's lips were soft and warm against his. He didn't notice his eyes closing.
Kylo let it last far longer than Hux thought he would.
The air rushed from his lungs when Kylo pulled back. Without thinking, Hux cupped the back of Kylo's head and pulled him into another kiss. Kylo laughed into the kiss, lips parted. Hux felt clumsy when he moved his lips, but it didn't deter him.
Kylo was smiling against his lips, trying to follow what Hux was doing. Hux was contemplating how to get his tongue in Kylo's mouth, when Kylo gently pushed him back with a hand on his chest. Hux blinked sluggishly, lips still pursed.
"I agreed to one," Kylo laughed.
Hux winced. "I know, I'm sorry."
Kylo leaned back in his seat, smiling. "Did you like it?"
Hux covered his mouth, looking anywhere but Kylo. "I did." He tried his best to suppress the giggles that were trying to force their way out.
Kylo pulled the hand away from his face and laced their fingers again, resting their hands on the armrest between them. His thumb moved across Hux's knuckles, back and forth. They tried to pick the movie back up, but they were too busy sneaking glances at each other.
When they left the theatre, it felt like ten years had come and gone. The night air felt crisp against Hux's heated skin. Kylo was still holding his hand, which he persisted doing while he walked Hux home, which he had insisted on doing, like a gentleman.
Standing on the steps outside his dorm, Hux asked, "Would you like to come up?"
"I don't put out on the first date," Kylo smirked.
Hux blushed – it was a date!
"Are you sure I can't convince you?" Hux joked, even if it fell a little flat.
"Positive."
Feeling oddly hopeful, Hux added, "So, how many dates do I need to take you on?"
Kylo barked out a laugh. "You're such a little shit," he grinned and advanced on Hux. He crowded Hux against the door and kissed him again.
Hux happily parted his lips, and made a soft sound of surprise, when Kylo nipped at his tongue. Again, it ended much too soon for Hux's liking, but he held his tongue.
Kylo walked backwards for a few paces, getting ready to leave. "You busy next weekend?"
Hux's heart soared.
Kylo did end up being responsible for Hux's sexual debut, but it didn't happen till a year later. Hux was absolutely terrible. Luckily, Kylo was very fond of his boyfriend and insisted practice makes perfect.
And it did.
Eventually.
~ FIN
#kylux#wrote this on twitter#modern setting#first times#college au#awkward hux is awkward#also available on my ao3
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An attempt to sUmmarize the impossiBle
It’s weird to think that a third of my life has involved the program. I don’t take much time to internalize the impact that it has had on my life as I think through my past, but without UB I would not be where I am today. It’s not in the sense that I’d never be in college or never have accomplished what I have so far. It’s more like UB is my main reminder how much I care about students, their well-being, their future, and their position and transition from where they are going into college.
As an education major, you only really interact with students during your time there twice during the duration of being a student. The first time is before you board into the COE, and the second is when you student teach at the end of your degree. Your first placement isn’t even in a high school if you are in secondary, so if that is your intention, you don’t really see students of that age to confirm your decision to work with them (after 4 years of college mind you) until then.
My opinion of UB and appreciation for the program has changed highly due to my position as an educator, eventually. Though I generally am lax during UB, I understand high school students are high school students and they will do what they want to do, making bad decisions or terribly radical choices, but they learn from their choices. I think back to how much I know about relationships now from a secular standpoint instead of from my religious background and a large majority of my understanding of how to be a boyfriend or future fiance and husband comes from being a bad boyfriend or being treated poorly in the past. I made many a bad decision throughout high school, mostly all involving relationships, and I spent a lot of time, money, and heartache (both within and outside of UB) in relationships that I thought mattered.
The corollary to that is the fact that high school students, from my opinion, needed to be treated like their decisions matter. Generally speaking, high school students assume that their decisions are make or break, that their life will be destroyed if they fail a test or break up with a significant other or whatever. Every event is the coolest or biggest thing that has happened since sliced bread, and I think where people fail to communicate with high schoolers is that they try to step into that learning experience where errors are necessary for growth.
I don’t always write chronologically, I see myself as a blur of thoughts that somehow weave together into a theme. It’s why I can only ever write a verse instead of a full song, and also why I like slam poetry so much since one minute you could be talking about types of cheese, and the next stanza is you slamming the government for its’ treatment of their citizens. So, backtrack farther.
I throughout Upward Bound learned a lot about life and friends that I didn’t consider before as somebody that learns primarily by example. Specific topics include that you should break up with somebody before you start talking to another person, or that you should not give every ounce of your energy into everything that you do (I still struggle with this one). I didn’t care much about my 11th and 12th grade year. My GPA went from a 4.0 to a 3.5 in 3 semesters, which is /pretty impressive/. I wanted to go to UTC due to having a large community of friends there and also reports of having a phenomenal Education program, but personal laziness stopped me from applying. I only got into ETSU because my Bridge application got me into the university, and it has the convenient benefit of being 10 minutes from my house, which I can’t complain too much about the “free room/board and meal plan” that I have from living there. Outside of my personal laziness, I know students that would have never went to college coming from families with drug issues or domestic issues that were inspired to succeed on their own and the program is a tool to launch their determination into high gear.
This is the part where I start talking to you, the reader, which for the sake of me sharing this is to be assumed as somebody as a part of the program in some facility. Though Dr. Gross says that these people may be some of your friends for the rest of your life, in some cases they are, but for me they weren’t. What I will always remember are little things that inspire me to keep doing what I’m doing, though being more serious eventually. The things like “Zander, I’m want you to be on our bus.” or “Will you come take a picture with us?” or “I’ll miss you a lot when you aren’t here next year.” help remind me that since I’ve heard these things from such a large variety of students that whatever I’m doing, personality wise or just my approach to this job is working.
I definitely and admittedly am not as professional as I should be for this job, which leans into why I think that students enjoy my company, but you all truly do not understand the impact that you make on the staff and RA’s lives in a similar way that we seem to make on you. I thank you all for every compliment you have ever given to a staff member here, me or anybody, since it truly keeps us motivated. Between my two jobs, I was working from 7AM-11PM with two hours worth of breaks throughout the day combined, and it was a nightmare especially on my seven night duties, but every time I went into work with a smile and the best attitude that I could and it was responded with joy and all positives back from the students.
I think the whole point of all of these cluttered thoughts is a large thank you, from myself but on behalf of all of the staff, for just being a great group of students. I think back to my seemingly normal life of me getting into UB with a family that was together, a brother not in a wheelchair, and a fine lower middle class life and I wonder how I got into UB. I’m not going to go too much into it, but I think that God (please don’t stop reading) put me in Upward Bound to help show me my passion for students of this age and continue to remind me how much I care for each and every student.
I love each and every day that I have had working with the program. The best part of this job is you all, the students. This program has no purpose, meaning, and can not exist without you all taking a step towards the success of your future and joining UB. I know that sounds unnecessarily like I’m giving the beginning of the summer speech, but between all the classes and CWS and Bridge and having staff ready to help you and living in dorms for a month and traveling around the country doing who knows what, there are so many new experiences that you would not have been able to have had you not signed up for this program.
On the most personal note, and a concluding one, each group every summer just spills my heart with joy of being to hang out. Though I definitely act your age more often than my own, I can sense that you all know that I’m somebody you can come to in a time of need, and that when you need a pick me up or a bad joke, I’m your guy. All that I could ask for from being a staff member of UB is for students to know that I care about them, and I think that this summer I’ve done that better than before. My goal was to make myself seem like a better friend to all instead of a few, and I’m not a crier outside of relationships but I can tell you all that I am deeply saddened that I will most likely not be involved with UB next summer. You all are a truly unforgettable batch of students, and I could never ask for a group as hilarious and caring and joyful to be around as you all.
The UB program is not a program made up of summer staff, we are temporary and change yearly. It is a program of students, whose united front to succeed and make their lives better than their present situation would make out for them come together to be as strong as they can be and make themselves as bold as they can to move out into college in the real world. Outside of my friendships with each and every one of you, I am proud to have been a teacher, a mentor, a leader, and a numerous variety of other titles as you all grow through your time in UB.
Peace out,
Hopefully see everybody next year, but if not I know I’ll see you all doing great things in whatever you decide to do.
ZB
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Little biographies of each of my SIs below - post inspired by @benobiships!
From left to right
Fandom: Breath of the Wild - with a few modifications. Unbeknownst to most people (my SI included) the Champions didn't die - they got put into resurrection chambers, complete with puzzles to unlock and discover them. Is She Me?: This is one of my SIs who is a bit more of an OC than exactly being me, as far as personality goes. Like me, she thinks she's kind of clever (and to a degree she is), she's silly, she can come off a bit clumsy sometimes, and is sometimes lacking in the commonsense department. Her interests are pretty different than mine - she's fixated on the old Sheikah tech that's around, and desperately wants to get into a shrine. She's fairly in tune with the spirits and other mystical beings in Zelda-verse, because she's a Chosen One like Link/Zelda (though her role is much smaller). She's also hilariously weak like myself and doesn't know when to quit (also like myself). She can become easily hyper-fixated by ancient things, which is not so much like irl me. Role: My SI grows up in Kakariko Village. While people are nice enough, and Impa kind of takes care of her, she always feels like an outsider. She is not a Sheikah herself, and that is obvious. She often goes to visit the other Sheikah out in Hateno and Akkala, to learn about the tech and everything. However, she becomes frustrated with not being allowed to research certain things ("the shrines are for the Champion, don't touch them"), so she runs away. Impa knew that she was a Chosen One, part of the legend, and panics a bit that she's run away. But unfortunately, Kakariko cannot spare to send anyone to find her, with the Yiga Clan's returned presence. And thus begins her journey to ultimately resurrect all the Champions (starting with Urbosa, followed by Mipha, Daruk, and Revali). She later meets Link (and Zelda once the world is saved). F/O(s): Romantically, Urbosa and Mipha (sometimes as a polyamory, but typically a V if anything). Platonically, Daruk, Revali, Link, Zelda.
Tags: Modern History (Urbosa x Wendy), Rainfall in the Ruins (Mipha x Wendy), botw aesthetic, Urbosa, Mipha
Fandom: Star Trek TOS Is She Me?: Very literally. She is me but through time travel shenanigans she ends up in the future (Star Trek is the future!!!) on the USS Enterprise. She even used to watch the Star Trek tv show! Very literally me. Over time as she becomes a science officer and computer specialist of the future, she diverges from me a bit, as her time on Vulcan helps her calm her emotions, and she learns to defend herself a little bit. And Starfleet grows more discipline in her. Role: Once she orients herself to being spontaneously transported to the future and gets through the grieving of losing everything, she starts trying to learn and grow on the ship, with the story that she is McCoy's niece (Everyone kinda knows this isn't true but opt not to question it). Kirk and McCoy take it upon themselves to take care of her while she acclimates, and Spock gets roped in as well. He kind of knows she has a crush on him, but he doesn't really know what to do about it or how he feels, although over time he figures out both of those things. He helps teach her about technology and science in the future, and she is kind of like his apprentice. Eventually they confess their feelings to each other. After some time, it is decided that it is too dangerous for Wendy to stay on the ship long term. Now that she has acclimated to being in the future, they want her to go to school on Vulcan and properly train for Starfleet/Science Officer duties. She is super scared to be away from everyone but ends up doing it. She and Spock bond before that. She goes to school, makes some friends, some shenanigans happen (including a traumatic event of someone else trying to break her bond with Spock), and then the Enterprise comes back to pick her up after some time. F/O(s): Romantically, Spock. Platonically, Kirk and McCoy (who waffle between familial and best friend depending on the day tbh), and the entire bridge crew. Amanda and Sarek are her in-laws and she loves them like family.
Tags: Love is Fascinating (Spock x Wendy), Uncle Kirk, Uncle Bones, Spock, Star Trek Aesthetic
Fandom: Fantasy setting Royalty AU - an AU entirely of my own creation, in a fantasy setting that allows for magic, different sentient species, etc. Crossover with all faves and their verses. Is She Me?: She looks like me, but in fancy dresses. Our personalities are fairly different though. She's a very magnanimous Princess, who is very brave and very selfless, and also has a really amazing magical power. She speaks politely and well. She is physically weak like myself, and despite her interest in learning to defend herself she is not permitted such things. We both really like to read and learn, even if that interest turns out just to be a hobby. Notably, she is a great diplomat and speaker, though she doesn't really enjoy the former (I wouldn't say irl me is GREAT but is okay, though I do not enjoy it also) Role: She was an orphan as a child, taken in by the Sheikah, who make up the elite royal guards. Once it was noticed I had an amazing magic power, to make massive unbreakable shields, the King and Queen scooped me up and I became the Princess. I grew up and was trained, and eventually I chose for myself four elite guards, who also became my secret lovers. It was an unusual move, but being beloved by the people, it was allowed. The King and Queen clearly think of me more as a pawn than as their child, so it was important I surround myself with people who really cared about me. My power has protected the city on numerous occasions, and the elite guard I chose have protected me even more times than that. F/O(s): My elite guards and primary lovers are Spock, Urbosa, Akabayashi, and Shizuo, as a polyamorous clump of sorts, centered primarily around me. Impa is a secret romantic lover as well (childhood friend who became leader of the Sheikah tribe), though outside of that group. Mipha is a Princess from another Kingdom who I am publicly romantically involved with - while we both consider it temporary (as in we won't get married), it's great fun and keeps away the other suitors. She sometimes engages with my elite guard as well. There will be platonic faves appearing as well.
Tags: Royalty AU, Royalty Aesthetic
Fandom: Durarara!! (x2 focused) - in this AU I am part of the yakuza as well. Is She Me?: She is the most like an OC of any SI. She is an outlet for feeling powerless - she is angry, she is strong, and she gets shit done. She swears a lot (which is true to me irl) and talks shit, and delivers on those promises to hurt them when people wrong her. She's the aggressiveness that I feel inside me, but that irl me would never consider executing. She's terrible at introspecting and talking about emotions (not like irl me at all). However, she does have a secret love for Poke'mon and plushies (irl me loves Poke'mon and plushies...). And also magical shield powers that she has weaponized. Role: She was an orphan American child who somehow ended up in Japan - she was adopted by the head of a small yakuza that co-existed with the Awakusu-kai in Ikebukuro. While she considers herself Japanese and Japanese to be her first language, she does speak English, and she is often accused of being a foreigner because she looks that way. Her adopted grandfather (she sees him that way, not as a father) does not force her into the yakuza - she joins on her own. She loves to fight, and being his granddaughter is given a lot of free reign to do what she wants within the boundaries of the small yakuza. She goes to high school at the same time as Izaya/Shinra/Shizuo/Kadota. She catches a lot of shit for being a woman, but she kicks enough ass that eventually she makes a name for herself - the Crystalline Angel. In addition to just being badass at fighting, she discovers early on that she has a special power - to generate shields. But she learns that she can form these shields into any shape, including razor sharp blades. When she's serious about using those powers, it's hard to beat her. Her primary job in the yakuza is to watch over prostitutes and make sure no one is causing them trouble, and if they are, she kicks an entire ass. Ultimately, her grandfather passes away, but he cuts a deal with the Awakusu-kai (who he was on good terms with) to let her join them. The other executives don't take her seriously for a while, but she shapes up and proves herself to them. There's a lot of shit talking, and she falls for Akabayashi almost immediately - and he falls for her instantly too. F/O(s): Romantically, Akabayashi. Platonically, Shinra and Celty, and sort of Izaya. She would really not call them friends, but they have a storied history and she wouldn't say she hates him either. Platonically also all of the Awakusu-kai execs - Aozaki, Shiki, and Kazamoto. She and Kadota were friends in high school, but haven't spoken since then.
Tags: Sharp Lines and Soft Edges (yakuza!SI x Akabayashi), yakuza si, yakuza aesthetic, durarara aesthetic, Akabayashi
Fandom: Durarara!! Is She Me?: Yes, with a few modifications. She is me, but after I graduated college I moved to Japan to work there. And I speak Japanese relatively fluently. This means I discard a lot of the life experiences irl me had. Personality wise, we're generally pretty similar - kind and smart, but ready to lay down some sass at my friends. A little absent-minded at times. Differently, my SI here learns to fight fairly well, and also has magic shield powers. Role: She moves to Japan and almost immediately runs into trouble (depending on which F/O she's with, the trouble varies). She quickly learns that the city is full of bad people and unusual people, and finds herself making friends with the unusual people. In the verse where she dates Shizuo, she helps calm him down, and Izaya takes an interest in messing with her to mess with Shizuo. Things got complicated very fast. In the verse where she dates Akabayashi, she doesn't much learn to fight, as the yakuza protects her once her relationship with Aka is serious. In that verse she joins the Dollars before she finds out Akabayashi is in the yakuza, which is how she discovers her shield powers, despite not really knowing how to fight. F/O(s): Romantically, Shizuo or Akabayashi (not ever in the same verse). Platonically, Celty (BFF!) and Shinra are big friends of hers, as well as Anri being like a younger sister to her. She's also on good terms with the van gang in both verses.
Tags: Street Signs and Snuggles (Shizuo x Wendy), Red Devil’s Honey (Akabayashi x Wendy), durarara aesthetic, Shizuo, Akabayashi
#self insert#references#there are more and maybe one day I will update this post but this is enough for today :)
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Hello! It's been a long time but I return! Me: The name’s Micchi, but feel free to call me whatever you wish. I’m in search of some casual roleplay buddies who might be up for some light-hearted, or really heavy roleplays. Basic info for me is I’m 20, and I’m a female more or less searching out other partners, preferably female, but gender really doesn’t matter in the end. I can’t say how much experience I have in RP, as my time RPing has been very patchy. I would average and say I probably have 1-2 years of experience, but I'm still learning and adapting. I'm currently enrolled in college in a full-time baking course, so I'm out most of the day during the week. I try to squeeze out replies despite this, as roleplaying is a great de-stresser for me. I try to average at the least one reply per day, but I can’t always do so since I’ve been fairly busy these days. At the least, I will respond on the weekends at least once a day if I can't get responses out during the week. If I haven’t replied in a week, please shoot me a message to remind me to reply, as I likely have read your message, but forgotten to reply! I will make sure to tell you if I know that I won't be able to reply for a week or more, so please be willing to do the same for me!
Style: I RP in third person, paragraph style. I prefer to RP semi-lit, though I do this more or less as a stress reliever and a hobby, so I’m not too strict on my style or length or anything. I typically average a paragraph in response, and can push myself to write 2-3 if necessary, but even one-liners are no issue to me. My length varies depending on my partner, but I cannot spiel off more than 4 paragraphs per response. I like to plot up ideas together and though I’ve never gotten the chance, world-building does sound cool! I like to use faceclaims for my character, either a real person or an anime drawing, depending on my character (My older ones would likely have an anime drawing as a faceclaim while newer characters would have a real person). I also love to send pictures for references on my characters, and their clothing. It’s much easier for me to imagine their looks and clothing that way. ^.^ And lastly, since it’s been a while since I’ve RPed, I may be lacking in terms of detail and length, but with time and practice, I will improve! The same goes for my characters. They may start out very plain/shy or unrealistic-sounding, but over time, I will flesh them out and make them more and more realistic! So please bear with me. c: Rules: So, starting rule is that I ask for my partners to be 18+, for comfort reasons and because I quite like smut. I prefer to be close in age to my partners, as I feel a better connection, and I’m more comfortable with it. Second rule is that I ask you not to take control of my character without asking me first. I’ve had it happen before, and frankly it’s very annoying, and I’m sure you can understand why. Last, a general rule. Respect. It’s a mutual rule, of course. I’ll respect you as long as you respect me. Preferences: So, I like to talk with my partners OOC, but this isn’t necessary if you wouldn’t like to do so. I’m an awkward and shy person, so I totally understand if you wish to keep talking strictly to plotting and talk about our characters/setting. For pairings, I highly prefer M// and F//, but I will do some M/F, though only if doubling. I would love to try some F//, as I’ve never actually RPed F// before, at least not without being ghosted, so I’d love to get the experience with it. I prefer to play a bottom, but I will switch and I might top. I like to play a range of characters, but most are bottoms or switches. I prefer highly to switch if you dislike playing a specific role, to keep variety in the mix. I prefer to do OC RPs, but I do have a few fandoms that I will play canon characters in. Most fandoms are for the universe. I usually play only one character at a time, but I can double. I like to do two different pairings when doubling (Like M// and F//). Kinks & Limits: I’ll start with my main limits, since it’s mostly the normal stuff. - Mommy/Daddy kink - Mpreg - Abusive relationships (Both physical and emotional) - Furries/Bestiality (Doesn’t include shapeshifters/hybrids) - Pedophilia/Age play (Or in general underage characters) - Incest - Non-con (Unless it’s in a character’s history, then that’s fine) - Feet stuff - Anything unhygienic As for my kinks, I’m still exploring so I’m open to almost anything not on the limit list, but here’s a few of my favourite ones so far: - Cross dressing (Especially for my bottom males) - Rough sex - Lingerie (I love having my characters dress up in lingerie) - Hickeys/biting -Choking Fandoms: So, I have just a few fandoms, but here they are. (The more *s next to the name, the higher my craving for it) - Overwatch ** (I prefer to play OCs since I’m not too well versed with the characters just yet, or we can just use the universe) - Toukiden Kiwami (I’d be pretty happy using the universe) - BTS**** (I love these boys please RP them with me. No OCxCanon with this fandom) Genres: - Romance (I love to have romance in any RP if possible) - Fantasy/Supernatural (My ultimate favourite. I like modern fantasy) - Slice of life (The one I’m best versed in) I am willing to try really any genre except historic ones because I know I can’t do justice to any timeline earlier than the 2000’s.
Plots/Pairings: These are some plots/pairings that I like or want to try. I’m open to any suggestions. (The more *s there are, the more interested I am in it. Bolded role is the role I would prefer) - Youtuber x Youtuber** (OCs only, but maybe two newer YouTubers collaborate and end up closely knit, and start dating) - Detective x Criminal/Thief* - Pirate x Pirate - Pirate x Commoner/Royalty (The commoner/royalty being a captive, though this wouldn’t be a Stockholm syndrome thing, but with a surprisingly merciful pirate who is kind to the captive) - Idol/Celebrity x Idol/Celebrity*** (This could go for BTS, or for OCs. I just like the idea of two celebrities who can’t be together often falling for one another and sneaking off to meet one another when they’re able to. Would probably be related to K-pop/J-pop/J-rock) - Idol/Celebrity x Commoner**** (Someone who happened to run into the idol/celebrity and hadn’t a clue who they were or was a fan and the idol grew attracted to them because they treated them no different than a normal human after learning who they were. I’m currently doing one of these, and I love it. This more or less ties to J-Pop/J-rock or K-pop, but any kind of idol/celebrity can be used) - Vampire x Werewolf* - Vampire x Human - Werewolf x Human (I’m a sucker for the human helping an injured werewolf plot) - Werewolf x Werewolf (Maybe a rogue being taken in by a pack alpha sort of scenario and slowly adapting them to life with a pack again) - Vampire x Vampire* (I like any plot, but I’m weak for an old, powerful vampire taking in a fledgling/newly turned vampire and teaching them how to adjust to their new life) - Demon x Angel - Demon x Human* (A human summons a demon, for any reason, and somehow the demon gets stuck with the human. Maybe the human accidentally summons the demon, and cannot send it back, so now the demon begrudgingly has to deal with this human until they find a way to get him home and they form a bond) - Human x Hybrid*** (Usually tied in with heats/ruts/ABO dynamics) - Hybrid x Hybrid* - Merman x Human** (Based off of Orenchi no Furo Jijo, a mermaid/merman is beached and dying, and a human takes them home and houses them in their tub. Possibly takes them back to the sea later on and makes routine visits to see them) - Good Boy/Girl x Bad Boy/Girl* (Something where the bad girl/boy has a soft spot for the good boy/girl and treats them completely opposite of their image. Maybe they’re childhood friends, and have been separated for years due to one moving away and have been reunited in college) - Supernatural creature x Human* (It could be any supernatural creature) - Supernatural creature x Supernatural Creature* AUs: So, I’m really weak for the hybrid AU, supernatural AU and soulmate AUs. I would be willing to incorporate any into an RP. Contact Information: Congrats if you made it this far, and I’m sorry for rambling. This post ended up wayyyy longer than I meant for it to be. But, if you want to RP, here’s where to contact me! I am most active on LINE and Discord. Discord: Imacow46#9993 LINE: imacow46
#indie rp#indie roleplay#independent roleplay#oc rp#multiple paragraph#para#semipara#oneline#short term#long term#messenger#smut rp#submission
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I would absolutely LOVE anything in the What Kind of Day It's Going to Be verse. Either a timestamp, alt POV, or sequel would be a dream come true! Thank you soooo much!
Original fic here!
Bellamy never thought he would quit a job for a relationship. It was one of those things that happened on TV and always struck him as unrealistic: short-sighted, dramatic, and, ultimately, dangerous. He’s never been so well off that he thought he could gamble his livelihood for, well, romance. He was old enough to know better when he was twenty, when he was thirty.
Which is probably why he doesn’t tell Clarke right away when he does it. Because it feels so juvenile, some big gesture that he’s dumping on her, like a cat bringing a dead mouse to its owner’s doorstep and expecting them to be impressed at its thoughtfulness and not horrified.
“Yeah, when you put it like that, it was a shitty idea,” says Wells.
Sometimes, just sometimes, Bellamy remembers that the president of the United States is giving him feedback on his love life, and it’s surreal.
Mostly, though, he can forget.
“Seriously, what the fuck am I supposed to say to her?”
“I got a job at the Newseum. That’s–” He counts on his fingers. “Seven words. Easy.”
“And then she asks why I quit, and I give her fifteen good reasons that aren’t I’m fucking in love with her and sick of having a conflict of interest.”
“If you don’t tell her you’re in love with her, it’s a waste.” Wells claps him on the shoulder. “I have to go be the president. Congrats on the new job. Same time next week? If you haven’t told her by then–”
“I’m not leaving for a month, I have plenty of time to tell her.”
“The sooner you tell her, the sooner you can ask her out,” Wells points out, not unreasonably. “I’m just saying.”
“Yeah, yeah. Go run the free world.”
*
Obviously, Wells does not make up a political scandal just to force Bellamy to talk to Clarke, but Bellamy can’t help combining the two. It’s his job to talk to Clarke about political scandals. Wells doesn’t give him enough details to break the story even if he wanted to, but the simple, “It’s about our parents; I think tomorrow’s going to be rough for her,” is more than enough for him to go by. He hadn’t like Wells at first, back in college, because President Jaha was, from everything he’d seen, kind of a dick, and it’s no surprise that the guy was kind of an asshole.
But Wells is good, and he and Clarke don’t deserve to have to deal with this stuff.
“Get to the White House as soon as you can,” he tells Monroe in the morning.
She frowns. “I haven’t heard anything.”
“Trust me, it’s going to be a busy day. Good time to show you how to trick interns into talking to you. But I’ve got other stuff to do too.”
“Connections to leverage?” she teases. She’s always very impressed that he and Wells went to college together.
“Something like that. See you there.”
He stops by Casa Coffee on his way in, grabs enough supplies to get Clarke through at least the first couple hours of her day, and he makes it in by eight. As he hoped, Monroe is already there, and Clarke looks about ten seconds from strangling someone.
“I will actually murder you,“ she says when she sees him, confirming his suspicions.
He loves her a lot.
“Good morning to you too. I brought you coffee.”
It takes a second for her eyes to focus on the cup; her night must have been rough. “I don’t accept bribes.”
It’s automatic to deny it; he always denies these things. “It’s not a bribe, it’s–no, actually, it’s a bribe,“ he amends. "But it’s so you don’t kill me, not because I think it’s going to get me advance information.”
She accepts the coffee and drains what looks like half of it. “I won’t kill you yet.”
“That’s the best I ever hope for. Where’s your intern who doesn’t know how to shut up? Myles? He’ll tell me what’s happening, right?”
She glares at him, and he finds himself beaming, feeling kind of stupidly happy, considering the circumstances. It’s going to be a rough day for all of them, but–this is probably his last major crisis before he leaves this job. It’s just a little bit fun.
“Nothing is happening,” says Clarke, like he has ever in his life believed this.
“Wow. That’s really what you’re going with? Really? You look like you haven’t slept and you usually at least let me be an asshole before you start threatening to kill me. Wells doing okay?” he adds, remembering the weary, defeated tone in his voice last night.
“President Jaha is fine,” Clarke snaps, which means it’s true. “You can wait for the press conference like everyone else, Bellamy.”
The worried look he pastes on his face is complete bullshit, and they both know it. “So now I can’t even express concern for my old friend on what’s clearly a–” Her elbow hits his ribs, and he laughs. “Fine. How long to the press conference?”
“I still haven’t made up my mind to not murder you.”
“If it’s more than an hour, I’ll bring you another coffee at nine,” he says.
She makes a show of thinking it over. “Make the next one a latte and we’ll talk,“ she says, and that’s about as much as he was expecting.
He’s got another hour and a half before the press conference; plenty of time to do his job before he comes to flirt again.
*
It’s a predictably hectic day. He makes time to get Clarke another coffee and a muffin, but this is Monroe’s first really busy day, and he needs to show her the ropes, which leaves him with a lot less time to flirt and fret than he’d like.
"Shouldn’t you be introducing me to the press secretary?” she asks, over lunch. “She’s your main point of contact, not her interns.”
Bellamy considers. “I haven’t told her I’m leaving yet,” he admits. “So I can’t really introduce her to my replacement yet. We’ll do it when it’s less, uh, like this in here. You don’t want her to remember you as the reporter who decided to introduce herself in the middle of a crisis.”
“Isn’t there always a crisis?”
“Less of a crisis. Or a less personal one.” He wets his lips. “Trust me, this is a bad day for it. I’m going to try to butter her up for you.”
“Does she get buttered up?” Monroe asks, with a wariness that is probably warranted. “I heard you’re her favorite and she still doesn’t really like you that much.”
“She loves me,” he says, without thinking, and doesn’t let himself think about the statement too hard. “She’s fine, once you get used to her. Mostly bark. I promise, I won’t let her kill you.”
“Wow, I feel so much better.”
“I’m buying her a sandwich to remind her that she likes me and everything.” He flashes her a smile. “Trust me.”
“That’s even worse,” she grumbles.
She’s going to be so good at this job.
*
He doesn’t make it back to Clarke until well after four, which makes him feel like a bit of an asshole. He wasn’t planning to go without checking in for so long, but their schedules are off, and it’s not his actual job to take care of her.
Which might be the biggest reason he needed a new job, honestly. He’s at the point in his life where he wants to prioritize people over his career, and Clarke is one of his most important people. Wells, too. And he’s tired of them having to talk around what’s going on with them because he’s a reporter, tired of knowing they can’t and shouldn’t trust him. It should be his job to be there for her.
She’s sitting down when he gets to her, which is a good start. Her eyes are closed, and she looks more exhausted than he’d expect, given someone could see her.
He sits down next to her, shoulder brushing hers, offers the sandwich he bought at lunch, and she opens her eyes to give him a wary look. “At what point did we decide I can’t feed myself?”
It feels like a bigger question than it really is, but it feels like the right time to answer a bigger question. “Wells called me last night to fill me in,“ he admits.
Her jaw actually drops, which he didn’t think was an actual thing humans did. “But you didn’t–”
“I didn’t break it. He didn’t call because he was giving me an exclusive. He was worried about you.” He clears his throat. “I quit my job.”
“When?” she asks still stunned.
It’s not the question he was expecting. “Three days ago. Wells knew, which is probably why he called me. I’m staying on until the end of the month to train the new kid, tie up loose ends, etc.”
She shakes her head. “I feel like I missed half this conversation. Are you–” He can see her swallow. “You’re not leaving DC, are you?”
“Nope. I got a job at the Newseum.”
“The Newseum?” she asks, dubious. “Seriously?”
“What? The Newseum is cool.”
“You’re a Pulitzer-prize-winning journalist.”
She sounds almost offended on his behalf, and he has to smile. He is her favorite, he knows that. “It’s a good job. Kind of different, yeah,“ he admits, when she just looks dubious. "But if it sucks I can probably convince another newspaper to hire me. Or write another book. I’ve got options.” He rubs the back of his neck, unsure. She still hasn’t asked the big question. “But, yeah. I’ve got three more weeks at the Post and then I’m done.”
“I still feel like I’m missing something,” she says, because somehow, she still is.
“I thought you would be having a shitty day. And you don’t deal well with direct displays of affection, so I figured I’d just bring you coffee and pester you until you felt better.”
She scowls, but not really at him. Just at the world. “And then you disappeared.”
“Like I said, I am theoretically training a replacement. I was teaching her how to trick Myles into giving away state secrets.”
“Don’t you just ask him for state secrets and he starts talking?”
He has to smile. “You really need to work on your hiring process for interns, yeah. Your boss says you are required to leave at five,” he adds, showing her the text message he got half an hour back. There’s no way anyone else is leaving at five, but he’s not sure Clarke would ever leave, if Wells didn’t kick her out.
“You could have faked this text,” she says, finally.
He rolls his eyes. “I could have. You still look like you haven’t slept in days, though. And,“ he adds, careful, deliberate, "I think I owe you dinner.”
It feels as if the whole world freezes, but he’s pretty sure it’s just the two of them–her, then him. “Are we really doing this now?” she asks, soft.
“I was going to wait, but, yeah. I’m kind of worried about you. The stuff with your mom can’t be easy. I won’t–I’m not looking for an exclusive here,” he tells her, and it feels so good that it’s true. “I just want to help you.”
“You couldn’t have told me that this morning?”
“I didn’t want to distract you.” She frowns, clearly confused, and he feels heat race up his neck. “I was hoping finding out I was quitting my job would distract you,” he admits.
That finally gets through to her. “You didn’t quit your job for me, did you?”
“Not just for you,“ he says, which is true. "The hours are better too.” He doesn’t want her to respond, so he stands again, changes the subject immediately. “So, five? Dinner’s on me.”
She’s starting to smile, and he feels years of tension start to drain from his chest. “You bought breakfast and lunch. I can cover dinner.”
"Okay,” he says, grinning. “It’s a date.”
"Where’s your replacement?” she asks, standing herself.
“Weird subject change. But talking to your intern, I think.”
“I want to meet her.”
“Now?”
“Today was a nightmare,” she says. “I’ve got half an hour left, I don’t want to actually keep dealing with this. My shitty interns can do it. I want to meet your replacement and then I want to go home and make out with you until we’re ready to order dinner. Unless you have something else going on.”
He lets out a surprised laugh. “That’s a very specific plan.”
“That’s what I’ve wanted to do every single time we’ve had a crisis for the last two years,” she says, looking him up and down with an unsubtle heat in her gaze. “If I finally get to to it, I’m going leave early for it.”
“So let’s just go,” he says. “I bet you’ve been here since five a.m. You can meet Monroe tomorrow.”
She bites her lip, clearly torn, and then, to his shock and delight, she grins.
“You know what? Fuck it.” She tugs him down and kisses him, and he laughs against her mouth.
“We should at least go home first,” he reminds her. “Anyone could see.”
“Wanted to get it out of the way. Text Wells for me, will you?”
She slides her hand into his once they’re on their way out, and he couldn’t stop grinning if he wanted to.
*
Me: Your press secretary is leaving early to get dinner with me.
PRESIDENT JAHA!! 🦅 🏴 🎉: Thank fucking god
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The odd friends: The young liberal and the elderly conservative
The waitress at Cracker Barrel looked confused when she stopped at our table. Among the snow globes, animatronic weasels, and ceramic pineapples, Richard and I were yet another random curiosity. A 30-something year-old woman in jeggings and a pixie cut next to her 92-year-old friend with the rodeo belt buckle and scraggly beard.
Richard flashed a gap-toothed grin at the waitress. “Hon, can you bring us one of them baskets? With extra biscuits?” he asked. He knows I like biscuits better than cornbread. At 92 with his sweet smile and wispy white hair, Richard’s “Hons” and “Sweeties” lack the demeaning quality they might have with a younger man in a position of power. Still, I studied the waitress’s face. I started to tell Richard not all women like being called “Hon,” but the waitress’s expression softened into bemusement. “Of course, Hon,” she said, then headed towards the kitchen.
In an era when the political is personal, people make assumptions about others’ beliefs based on their appearance. Many of the assumptions one might make about Richard are correct. He is a lifelong Texan and a white evangelical Christian who dropped out of school in the sixth grade. Like 55 percent of men with no college degree, Richard is staunchly anti-abortion rights. He has voted Republican since before I was born, including a vote for Donald Trump in 2016.
If Richard fulfils a stereotype, so do I. Like 51 percent of Americans aged 30 to 49, I supported Hillary Clinton. I identify as a feminist and an atheist. I earned my master’s degree from a music school on the East Coast. I organised watch parties for President Barack Obama’s election, donated to the Bail Project, and vote Democrat.
Once a week, a Facebook friend brags about ending a relationship with a friend or family member who voted for an opposing political party. I have blocked Republican friends myself, usually for posting memes or rants that incited violence or discriminated against marginalised groups. But Richard and I have been friends for eight years, despite openly discussing our ideological differences.
When the basket of biscuits arrived, Richard reached for one. Then his eyebrows shot up. His hand flew to his mouth. “I forgot my teeth,” he said, meaning his dentures. We laughed.
Leaving school at 12 and college degrees
I first met Richard in 2012 when he called me about violin lessons. To liberals, America in 2012 was a warm cocoon. Social safety nets like the Affordable Care Act told poor or sick Americans for the first time they mattered. Neo-nazis hid rather than marching down streets brandishing torches.
It was in this year that Richard, at 84 years old, decided to take up the violin. His wife had died in 2011, and he had recently found his grandmother’s violin in the attic. The local music shop had given him a list of teachers’ names and contact numbers. Mine was at the top.
At his first lesson, I handed Richard a copy of my policy and expectations for students. Nodding solemnly, Richard pulled a pencil out of his bag and took notes in neat cursive penmanship. He has practised nearly every day in the eight years and counting he has been my student.
More American millennials than any previous generation have college degrees. Like many people my age, I took for granted that my education would continue after high school. Higher education whisked me from my homogenous suburb onto a campus with peers who had different religions, abilities, ethnicities, cultural backgrounds, and sexual identities. My professors taught me to critically engage with the news, which influences my voting decisions today.
Richard, however, did not attend school past the sixth grade. One of the defining moments in his life occurred when at age 12, he asked his father for a nickel. “I haven’t got a nickel,” his father told him. “You want money, you go to work.” Shortly after, Richard left school and got a job “pearl diving” – washing dishes in a restaurant. He performed manual labour before enlisting in the army. Thirty years later, he retired from the light company where he had worked his way up to foreman.
Richard poses with his violin during a lesson [Photo courtesy of Meghan Beaudry]
The Bible and speaking your mind
During that first year of weekly violin lessons, our conversations began to extend beyond the violin. I responded to Richard’s stories of his late wife, Beverly, with anecdotes from my own recent marriage. Richard reminisced about his military tour of Japan and Korea at the tail end of World War II. I learned to appreciate his sharp wit. Once, Richard mentioned a car he had seen that had crashed into the gates of a cemetery. “People are just dying to get in there,” he said dryly. With his mischievous smile, he looked like a schoolboy who had just slipped a toad into a classmate’s desk.
I first glimpsed how much Richard’s ideology conflicted with mine several months into our lessons. Richard had offered to take my husband and me out for dinner. We met him at Spring Creek BBQ. He wore cowboy boots and a giant silver belt buckle. Richard’s devout Christianity had never been a secret, but I hadn’t realised until then how much his religion influenced his politics. Perhaps I should have. Eight out of 10 evangelical Christians say they plan to vote for Donald Trump in 2020. Once seated, he questioned my husband and me about our nonexistent religious beliefs. “You need to think about what happens after you die,” Richard urged. Then he passed out anti-abortion rights pamphlets to random diners, who accepted them with polite but confused nods. The title: God Has a Plan for Your Child.
Richard would persist in his efforts to convert us for months. Years later, I would learn to see his determination for what it was: a strong desire to save a young couple he had grown deeply fond of, in the only way he knew how. But once during a lesson, I couldn’t contain my annoyance. “Are you here to learn the violin or not?” I snapped.
Richard paused. “I am,” he said. Then he looked at me with genuine curiosity and asked what exactly I had against the Bible. I thought of the priest at the church I had attended each week as a child – of the blistering sermons condemning gay people and women, but rarely men, who had sex before marriage. I remembered the time I had endeavoured to read the entire Bible as a teenager. I got as far as Sodom and Gomorrah before closing the book forever. What lodged in my developing brain was not the allusions to homosexuality, but a father who offered up his own virgin daughters to be raped by a mob.
“I don’t think the Bible treats women well. Almost all the stories in there are about men,” I told him. “I just don’t see myself in that book.”
Richard sat in silence for a moment. I hadn’t yet visited his house and seen the dozens of Bible verses embroidered, carved into wood, or painted in frames on his walls. I hadn’t seen the dog-eared King James version on his table, bright tabs and sticky notes poking out from the worn pages. When Richard spoke, he didn’t lash out. He didn’t defend the belief system that defined his life. He complimented me. “One thing I respect about you is you always speak your mind,” he said quietly.
Hurt and friendship
For several years, Richard’s and my opposing beliefs lay between us like a faded stain on the carpet. Present, but rarely discussed. The 2016 election dragged these differences from the periphery of our relationship to where they couldn’t be avoided.
Shortly after Trump’s victory, Richard and I went out for lunch. Like many liberals, the 2016 election had sent shock waves through my life. Our new president spewed hate and threats atop the most public platform in the world. To me, a woman with serious chronic health issues, many of these threats were not existential. They were life-threatening. I worried about the gay couples I knew. I worried about my friends of colour. Which is why I stopped eating when Richard stumbled upon the topic of gender roles with all the grace of a drunken soldier careening through a field of landmines.
“It’s in their DNA,” he said. “God created men and women different. That’s just how it is.”
“So you think women are put on earth to clean up after you?” I asked.
Richard speared a tomato with his fork. “I think everyone should do their job and not complain.”
Living in a “free country” does not protect American women from being talked over, underestimated, and disregarded. Four out of 10 American women have been discriminated against at work because of their gender. One in three American women will be stalked, raped, or assaulted. Sexism had dug its claws into my life well before I had the vocabulary to name it. I began picking up after my brothers in elementary school. By high school, I was folding their underwear, scrubbing their toilet, and carrying their dishes to the sink to wash after meals. I will never understand why my time and energy was viewed as disposable, but my brothers’ wasn’t.
After that lunch with Richard, I reacted differently than he had towards me the day I told him I would never believe in the Bible. Deeply hurt, I was unable to see past the rhetoric he had espoused. At his next lesson, I told him that I would still teach him the violin, but we would no longer spend time together as friends. He hung his head, then shuffled slowly to his car.
People’s words and their character
“All lives matter. Her body, her choice. Choose life.” Taken at face value, these words are immutable truths. What begins as a reaction to injustice becomes a slogan. These slogans and chants, so necessary to mobilising people and elevating marginalised voices, pull us into their orbit. They grow to encompass a movement, attracting other slogans like paperclips to a magnet. The movement adheres itself to a political party. The party becomes an identity for supporters, even though the average American has neither the time nor resources to become an expert on the nuances of public policy. Instead, we scream slogans across the street or share video clips to our own self-constructed echo chambers. If you believe Black Lives Matter, you must want to abolish the police. If you didn’t vote for Hillary, you hate women. Even when our intentions are noble, we stop listening to any voice that doesn’t mirror our own. Like spilled red and blue ink, the opposing parties grow larger, separated only by the election on which the future of America teeters.
It took months for my hurt feelings to fade enough for me to see through Richard’s rhetoric to the person underneath: a man who took over the housework while his wife studied for her nursing degree. A man who married young and worked to support his wife while she finished high school, despite his own lack of education. A man who had been married for 50 years, yet responded with compassion and acceptance when I told him my four-year marriage had ended. Richard had once relayed to me a conversation in which a man in his forties had lamented his lack of a wife.
“I just can’t find a woman willing to submit to me,” the man had told Richard.
“Submit? Well, that’s not how any marriage I know works,” Richard had snorted.
I learned to pay attention to Richard’s behaviour rather than the slogans he repeated. I had heard racist jokes and comments from liberal friends, only to watch them flood their social media with Black Lives Matter slogans once the movement rose to prominence. Growing up, the most judgemental people I knew always seemed to be devout church-goers. Richard’s actions paint a consistent picture of who he is as a person: kind, accepting, and empathetic.
Richard and Meghan’s dog, Wilbur, who loves to snuggle with Richard [Photo courtesy of Meghan Beaudry]
Richard never said another derogatory word about women. He became the first man I had ever met who, when confronted with his own misogyny, cared enough about me to change.
It is not easy to see past someone’s words to their true character. On the campaign trail, Donald Trump spouted promises. Walls to keep America safe. Lower taxes. The return of jobs to our country. Words have the power to wound, but also to uplift and spark hope. Some words, especially when they are words we want to hear, even have the power to veil the speaker’s true character. I began to see why so many Americans were hoodwinked by him.
Curiosity, respect and empathy
My conversation with Richard about gender roles set a precedent. We began to talk frequently and openly about our political beliefs. After some experimentation, we developed a tacit set of rules: Approach conversations with genuine curiosity about the other person’s perspective. Treat each other with respect and empathy. This empathy stems from an understanding that vastly different life experiences, many of them painful, have shaped our beliefs.
One of Richard’s most deeply held beliefs is that abortion is wrong. According to Gallup’s Values and Beliefs Poll, 46 percent of Americans are anti-abortion rights and 48 percent are pro-abortion rights, with 6 percent undecided. The difficulty in discussing abortion stems from who each camp views as the victim. When anti-abortion rights advocates talk about abortion, they talk about the babies. When pro-abortion rights people talk about abortion, they talk about the women. As a feminist, I can’t imagine being forced to carry a child I didn’t choose.
Richard and his wife raised just one child – a son who never had his own children, who lives 10 hours away and has his own life and health issues. Richard spends Thanksgiving, Christmas, and Easter with me at my parents’ house. Richard’s wife, Beverly, suffered miscarriage after miscarriage before giving birth to their only son. One of their children that didn’t survive is buried in a cemetery without a headstone because Richard and Beverly had been too poor to afford one. To come home to a house full of light, laughter, and grandchildren is Richard’s greatest desire. As I dropped him off after a family dinner one night, I watched Richard slowly shuffle up his driveway. Then I pulled away from the dark empty house. It suddenly clicked why Richard talks about “the babies”. It was never out of hatred for women.
The shape of our wounds
I have accepted that Richard and I will never be on the same page ideologically. Our friendship and ability to discuss divisive topics hinges not on our differences, but on our similar approach to life. We both believe in treating others with respect. We both harbour a magnetic curiosity towards those who are different than us. I will always be a liberal. But I have learned it is not just liberals who dream of a better America. From my friendship with Richard, I have learned that Americans’ ideas on how to improve our country often take the shape of their wounds.
Telling stories from the past is either the privilege or burden of the old. Richard revels in this role, peppering his stories with advice like “don’t buy no strawberries but Driscoll’s.” “Never tie two cats’ tails together and hang them over a clothesline,” he warned me once quite sincerely. But I always enjoy his stories and advice the most when Richard talks about the Great Depression and World War II.
“The government found out they were spying on us and rounded them up,” he said once about America’s Japanese internment camps.
Richard’s voice hit me like a shovel to the chest. His matter-of-fact tone implied that this was something everyone knew, like the events of Pearl Harbor or the reason for the American Revolution. We like to believe we are free in America. That we are different from countries like North Korea or Russia, who brainwash their citizens with a steady diet of pro-government propaganda. Richard’s statement summed up American propaganda in one phrase.
“That’s not true, Richard. They were Americans, too,” I said.
Two years later, I would learn about the Tulsa race massacre for the first time. In school, racism had been portrayed as an evil that Americans had long since vanquished. Video footage of police murdering Black people has long since eviscerated this lie. Since Richard’s statement, I’ve often wondered who I would be if I had no access to reputable news. What would I believe if I grew up under different circumstances?
My focus on Richard’s actions rather than his rhetoric was most tested the few times he used racially insensitive language.
Racism isn’t a personality quirk. It isn’t a vestige from a quaint antebellum past, like one-room schoolhouses or horse-drawn carriages. Racism is trauma that lasts for generations. Racism is lost lives and ruined futures.
I’m a liberal. A feminist. A believer that science is real, Black Lives Matter, and love is love. But perhaps the piece of my identity most deeply rooted in my heart is teacher. For me, that has always been the identity that makes allyship possible.
I speak up. “Richard, we don’t say that any more. It’s ‘people of colour’ now.”
Richard never argues. “OK,” he always agrees.
Access to the news
“Where do you get your news?” I asked recently. No TV hangs in Richard’s living room. His home is a museum dedicated to his late wife; Beverly’s floral curtains and silk floral arrangements remain untouched by Wi-Fi or cable. No copy of the New York Times lands on his doorstep each Sunday. An old radio sits on his kitchen table.
“Mostly from what people say,” he shrugged. “And sometimes the radio.”
My heart sank. From the day we met, Richard spoke openly about his lack of education and his humble background. As a teacher, I recognised his fierce commitment to learn shining through the unvarnished front he presented. As an adult, Richard had taken flying lessons and painting lessons. He approaches the Bible the way a scholar of history would. He pores over gardening manuals and maintains an encyclopedic knowledge of the flowers and trees in his garden.
I had convinced him to trade in his flip phone with T9 texting – “it’s not a phone, Richard, it’s an ancient artefact,” – for a touchscreen Android. He has since become a connoisseur of selfies and of video clips of the American flag in his garden waving in the wind. Richard strikes me as an independent thinker – someone who isn’t fooled by con men or false political promises. But from our conversation, a clearer picture emerged: an intelligent man, but without the resources to access the news or discern its accuracy.
I scribbled a note to myself to print and bring some news articles to our next meeting. The New York Times. The Atlantic. Maybe a Christian news source with solid reporting. No op-eds – just straight news so Richard could form his own opinions.
Richard told me he had listened to the first debate between Joe Biden and Donald Trump on the radio.
“I couldn’t sleep it bothered me so much,” he said. “(Trump) denied what Joe told him he’d said. But everyone very well knows what Trump said. People have ears.”
“Thou shalt not bear false witness. It says that clearly in the Bible,” Richard added with a frown.
Richard and Meghan take a selfie after playing a concert at a nursing home [Photo courtesy of Meghan Beaudry]
Past the slogans and rhetoric
As Richard has aged, the lines in our relationship have blurred from teacher to friend to caregiver. I want him to know he always has a place at my Thanksgiving table. That I’ll be there in the hospital when he wakes up from his heart procedures. That my family will keep filling his fridge so he can quarantine safely.
“You don’t have to tell me,” I said. “And if you do, we’ll still be friends no matter what. Who do you think you’ll vote for this election?”
“I believe in what our forefathers said in the Declaration of Independence. But as culture has changed, my thoughts have changed. Being Christian doesn’t mean you have to be Democrat or Republican. It means voting what you believe in,” Richard said.
Our friendship has taught me to see past slogans and rhetoric to the person underneath. That actions convey character in a way that words can’t. But in this respect, perhaps Richard is miles ahead of me.
“I think Trump has accomplished some things,” he said with his characteristic respect for our country’s leaders. “But those things might have been accomplished anyway through other people. He seems to really support all his friends and companies. Not the little man.”
“You know, I think I might vote for Joe,” he added after a pause. Outside Richard’s window, his American flag waved in the wind.
. #world Read full article: https://expatimes.com/?p=12610&feed_id=11683
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Life update Hello friends and family,
Many seasons have past since I left California to start a new life in Paris. What started as a one year teaching assistant program turned into an adventure that has now lasted 6 years. At the age of 23, not knowing what to do with my life, I packed my bags to return to my birth country hoping to find answers to my cultural identity. Over the years, I’ve encountered many challenges, met amazing people, fought my way through adversity, and discovered new passions in life.
2011 was exciting and the start of something new. The idea of starting over in the city Paris was full of possibilities. With the hopeful innocence of my 23 year old self and a small amount of money, I took on a small studio apartment and taught English in a French public high school. To my surprise, the students listened to my teaching style and I was able to develop a passion for teaching. At the end of the teaching contract, I knew I wasn’t ready to go back home in California. Part of me had always wondered what it was like to be a waiter, so I took on a waiter job in a Japanese restaurant.
In the summer of 2012, I waited tables night and day, 6 days a week. It was brutal, but I absolutely would do it again because I met an my un-official god parents. Mr and Mrs Tan are also French/American/Chinese, like me, which made our relationship that much easier, and are the owners of the restaurant “Wrap N Roll” Sushi in Paris. They taught me how to be hard working and more responsible through their strict expectations as managers. One day, Mrs Tan treated me to a French pastry, and while I was savoring it’s delicious flavor, I said out loud, “You know, I’d like to learn how to make these”, and Mrs Tan replied, “Well, why don’t you?”. This was the defining moment when I realized that the dream of becoming a pastry chef was within reach. During my last months in college, I had described my ideal life to be “Live out my faith as a Christian somewhere in the world, serve in a church as a drummer and a leader for the younger generation, and to make a living, work as a baker/pastry chef”. After doing some research, I decided to apply to the most prestigious pastry school Paris had to offer, Ferrandi Paris. By the end of summer, I was hired to work as a salesman in the world famous pastry shop, “Pierre Hermé Paris”. It was there that I took my first steps towards becoming a pastry chef. Though this experience, I learned the values of customer service and how to sell a product.
My Career as a salesman last until the end of 2013. During this year, I went through many trials such as work drama, having my heart broken, and dealing with the feeling of loneliness. Don’t be fooled by the pictures that only show the happy moments, it’s the difficult moments that define who we truly are. Over the years, I had learned how to eat by myself, even at a restaurant, and just be by myself in general. But every once in a while, this feeling of homesickness just took over and I felt giving up. I was able to survive these moments because of the healthy community I was blessed to have here in Paris. I was also blessed to have a female companion by my side that made me feel loved. 2013 was probably the hardest year of my life. I felt like I was stuck as a salesman and that I would never get into pastry school. But I saw the light at the end of the tunnel by the end of the year. After refueling back in California I came back to Paris, and in the winter of 2013 I was admitted to pastry school. On top of that, I was able to move into a new place a lot closer to my school. (I live with an older woman, it’s just that she’s 80 years old, She’s like my French grandmother =P) God’s timing was perfect, all of this happened in the same week.
2014 was the start of my pastry career. The program in which I participated was an intensive one. Instead of a regular 2 year training, it would be over 5 months only because I already had a BA. Pastry school was amazing, I loved every moment. Starting at 6am and ending around 2pm, we learned and practiced the art of making French pastries. Even though I had little experience in baking, I was able to learn quickly and was blessed to have good instructors. Our classes were small, consisting of only 12 per class. At night, I would go back to waiting tables for the first couple of weeks of my semester to earn a living. However, Mrs Tan wanted me to focus on my studies and loaned me money for me to use until the rest of my school year. My initial reason for going to pastry school was to eventually open up shop in LA, but it changed as the months went by. My new vision was to get my pastry degree, train under big chefs for a couple of years, and eventually either open up my own shop or go back to teaching, this time, pastry. After earning my degree, I interned at my local bakery and started looking for work. At that time, my bank account was pretty dry and I had to wait tables once again full time in order to survive. There came a time where I had 10 euros in my bank account… The struggle was real. But, I was oddly at peace. I had experienced God’s grace so many times, that I knew something would come up. By the end of the summer, that opportunity came up. After being discouraged my not getting replies or getting rejected for work, a company reached out to me. It was the only company who was interested. That company was the cooking school “La Cuisine Paris”. We got to know each other and I was given the opportunity to teach pastry classes to an English speaking people. I will forever remember the day when the owner of the school told me, “Look Eric, I know you just got out of school, and that you have little work experience, but, I like you, and I’m willing to invest in you”. This was a defining moment in my life that I will forever cherish. On top of that, the teaching gig only involved a 20 hour work week with a good hourly rate that allowed me to live comfortably. Talk about a dream job.
2015 was all about looking for ways to honor God through my time and resources. Because of my 20 hour or less work weeks, I found myself with a lot of free time. I was able to be well rested all the time, see friends during their lunch breaks, read books I’ve been wanting to read, and just have a lot of “me” time in general. All that was great, but I didn’t feel fulfilled. I became aware that, my church had a women’s group, but no men’s group. After a couple of weeks of brainstorming and counseling, I decided to launch “E.P.I.C men’s group”. This acronym stood for “Edification.Perseverance.Integrity.Courage”, these were the four pillars and values of our group. Our vision was based on the Bible verse found in 2 Timothy 1:6-7
“For this reason I remind you to fan into flame the gift of God, which is in you through the laying on of my hands. For the Spirit God gave us does not make us timid, but gives us power, love, and self-discipline”
Our vision was to become men equipped to live out a Christ centered life, and to one day become men worth following. This concept was important to me because growing up, there were seasons where my age group did not have a mentor figure to whom we could look up to, and I didn’t want the younger generation to go through the same thing. Our vision as men was to accurately reflect the image of Jesus through our lifestyle. NOT EASY. But I had met people in life whom I thought were leaders worth following, and leader not worth following. What made the difference? I went on an adventure to find out. 2015 also came with the opportunity to go on missions. My home church in Paris organized its first overseas mission to Senegal, located on the coast of west Africa. This mission trip opened my eyes to Christianity that I was used to, and made me experience my faith in a different way. Till this day, my church in France sends out a missionary team each year to Senegal where we preach the gospel through children’s ministry, teacher training programs, medical consultations, and for me personally, sharing different baking recipes with the local bakers. These mission trips have touched me in a profound way through the relationship I’ve developed over the years. The thought that children from the “Lac Rose” village (the village we’ve worked with) welcoming me year after year by name, after my first visit brings me chills.
2016 was more of a routine type of year. I started getting comfortable with my lifestyle and time flew by at an incredible rate. I kept on teaching pastry classes, serving in a church through playing drums and leading the men’s ministry, going on the Senegal mission trip, and enjoying life in Paris. Friends and family kept on coming to Paris over the years, and it brought me joy to show them around! One of the highlights of the year came in September when my sister Diana flew to Paris to run the Disney Paris half marathon. I’ve never considered myself a long distance runner, but the idea of developing grit became that much more real when you experience a long distance race. It disciplined me during the year to increase my endurance to eventually run a half marathon. My sister Diana, a seasoned marathon runner, ran at my pace and encouraged me throughout the entire race which helped me persevere through the fatigue and guided me to the finish line.
So here we are in 2017. This is was by far the most I’ve ever traveled in my life. It started with a trip back from California in January, Lyon, road tripping from Italy to Switzerland, Senegal, and Hong Kong. It’s been great seeing so many friends from home in other parts of the world. And here I am writing this update letter while sitting in a plane on my way back to California. I needed to refuel. I was discouraged by the men’s group because of the lack of attendance and motivation, and I was struggling with my worship coordinating responsibilities. This is year has been especially hard for me ever since my 4 year relationship ended. I realized that over the years, my feeling of “home” rested on my girlfriend’s shoulders at that time, and now with that figure gone, I suddenly felt so alone. The Sunday before I flew to California, I ate diner by myself in a restaurant and watched a movie by myself in the movie theaters. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, I actually don’t mind at all, and over the years I’ve done that plenty of times, that is, when it’s by choice. That lonely night, wasn’t by choice. I let it sink in deep and really felt like I was by myself and that one cared about me. I longed for this feeling of home, and I felt really alienated from the rest of the world. The timing of coming back to California was perfect.
This trip was exactly what I needed. My initial plan was to come back and surprise my mom for her birthday, surprise one of my best friends for his 30th, and attend a childhood friend’s wedding. Time flew by so quickly but I was able to see family and friends and surely enough, my “love tank” was full, I was refueled. I felt surrounded by a nurturing environment and felt appreciated through this time in California. I was able to reconnect with friendships that have lasted over decades and I felt so loved when people made the time to see me despite the long distance. My whole life has been about answering the question “Where is home?”, and the answer has always been “Home is where your loved ones are”. And to be more accurate, home is where there is a nurturing environment, because “If you want to go fast, go alone. But if you want to go far, go together”. These past 6 years in Paris have been absolutely amazing and will cherish these memories forever. I initially came back to my birth country to figure out where I wanted to settle down, and today I have an answer. I’ll be coming back to California in the near future. I’ve made myself a 2 year plan before officially departing, but there are still things I need to learn and do in Paris. Notably, acquire more experience as a pastry chef, to one day open up my own bakery in California. I’m also open to the idea of missionary work in other parts of the world such as west Africa, so who know’s where I’ll end up next.
Paris remains one of my favorite places on earth. It’s not the beauty that this charming city has, nor the amazing food it has to offer, but the friends I’ve made here that will make me miss this place. I’m determined to savor every minute I have here for the next years to come. Part of me is nervous to leave Paris because it’s my comfort zone, at the same time I’m confident that my family and friends will make moving back to LA a smooth transition. American friends see me as the “French guy”, French friends see me as the “American guy”, and to the rest of the world I’m just the “dark looking asian guy”. People with my background live with chronic homesickness, and I’m determined to build a place for them to feel at home in LA. That’s the new dream.
Thank you so much for your friendship and prayers of over the years. It’s been a delight catching up across the world, I wouldn’t be who I am and where I am without your counsel. I strongly encourage you to come to Paris before I make my move back to LA. You know it’s on your destination list and I would love to show you around the city have you see Paris through my eyes. (Preview* it involves eating the best the city has to offer for all budgets, picture memories, cooking/ baking classes, playing board games in cafés, meeting French people, strolling in tiny charming streets, having hilarious/ meaningful conversations).
Congratulations, you’ve made it to the end of this long update :)
Miss you guys, Eric Ngo
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TED, UNRAVELED
Memoirs are my favorite books to read, along with nonfiction, and also biology and neuroscience, and autobiography and biographies too. I read this one:
Like all of us, he started life as a baby, and then became a child. To be exact, he lived in Massachusetts on 74 Fairfield Street. Many decades later, after achieving a notoriety that surprised him, he revisited that child home. He told the current owner Ron Senez “I just stopped by to make sure you’re taking proper care of the house.” For some time he sat in Ron’s young sons’ room (Ted’s old bedroom as a child) and regaled them with stories. Ted showed them where he’d poked holes in the plaster and he told them a tantalizing story about a mural of “a lot of crazy animals” now covered by their wallpaper.
He started out drawing humorous cartoons for beer, oil companies, and the like, with a long-running very popular campaign for a bug company. (photos found at https://aoghs.org/petroleum-art/seuss-the-oilman/ ) His early work for these ad companies had many touches of the fanciful animals we would all come to know.
Of course he eventually fell into children’s books.
Suess’s wife was fond of saying that although Ted was witty, funny, somewhat introverted, and pleasant he was never happy when he was working on a book; but happiest when he finished one. Writing the rhymes, he’d often fill in the last word as ‘duh-duh’ or ‘dum-dum’ and then he’d toss and turn on his couch in his office, read a nonfiction book or mystery to clear his mind, walk the beachfront property, scour thesauruses, and eventually replace the fill-in words with the rhymes. He kept a paper bullseye of his father’s hanging on his office wall, where his father had gotten the bullseye dead center, to remind him of perfection. He had the bullseye till his end of days. (Ted was a chain smoker and eventually a dentist found cancer under his tongue which spread. He did not like hospitals and often refused treatments that may have prolonged his life a bit.)
When he first started, it was especially hard writing the Beginner Books series. There was a pedagogical rigor to the adherence of the approved word list. 361 approved beginning reader words to be exact. Authors were encouraged to have no more than 200 of the approved words per book. No “ed”, “ing,” or “er” endings of words were allowed either, except if it was specifically listed. Plurals were allowed but only if they were made by adding an “s.” Only approved contractions. No possessives. Finally the list was amended to allow “emergency” words, words not on the list but absolutely necessary to the story. Ted was quite a prankster and sometimes purposefully submitted x rated verse to Random House, and looked forward to the phone call that would surely follow! Truly, he would get a scolding, but he always left them laughing.
Example, an early “Hop on Pop” submission just to see if Stan was paying attention:
When I try to read, I am smart. I always cut whole words apart. Con Stan Tin O Ple, Tim Buk Too Con Tra Cep Tive, Kan Ga Roo.
Or
This prank while working on “Dr. Seuss’ ABC:”
Big X Little x X…x…X Someday, kiddies, you’ll learn about sex!
A more elaborate prank was played on a frequent house guest to the dinner parties at the Tower (he and his wife’s home in LaJolla). The man was always going on about how he collected fine abstract art. One day, Ted made up a fanciful long-syllabled-made-up “artist” name, worthy of his Suess books, and said that he had in his possession a rare abstract artwork by this big wig so and so “famous” artist. The man replied “Oh! I have always wanted an art piece by that artist!” Dr. Suess said he’d be willing to sell. Not long afterward, Dr. Suess presented the man with a framed abstract artwork (paint barely dry) that he’d secretly, and quickly, created himself. The man oohed and ahed! Ted could keep a straight face easily. Just when the man was ready to hand Ted a very large sum of money, Ted’s wife stepped in and said the prank had gone on long enough! Laughs were had all around. I wonder where that art is today.
Dr. Suess (he dropped out before he earned a doctorate but was to go on and be awarded honorary ones) was serious about “brat books,” as he affectionately called them. He felt the Run Sally, run!” books were detrimental to children and insulted their intelligence along with being boring and not stimulating in children a desire to read. Though he never had children, (his first wife, who could not bear children, took her own life in the Tower, devastating Ted), he knew how to be in a child’s world and also how to create worlds for them to be in.
From his home in LaJolla California, where he lived in what was known as “The Tower,” he’d receive more and more mail as time went by. He’d even have children ring his doorbell often asking if he were really Dr. Suess, or to wish him a happy birthday, and then run away down the hill. At first he answered the fan mail but it got to be so much, that eventually most fan mail was answered with a copy of a signed form letter Ted had written and drawn on himself, thanking the letter writer and explaining Dr. Seuss’s mail delivery was slow because he lived on a mountaintop where mail could only be delivered by a Suessian beast called a Budget, pulling a cart driven by a Nudget. Imagine having a copy of one of those today!
He was a true storyteller, granting few interviews, and always showing up for events, especially early on, if there was an arranged deal that he would not have to speak in front of the crowd. About himself, he told and retold stories so much that often many accounts of the same story are different. It was part of his charm. The office at Random House, which he visited when he hand-delivered finished books to read them aloud, much to everyone’s delight, he had a hand in decorating to suit him! The office there was whimsical, as per his decorating instruction.
Ted was terrified of public speaking, but toward the end of his life, he managed to speak publicly in simple rhymes. They were short, to the point. For example, if asked to speak to college grad students, he’d step up to the podium, deliver four verses of rhyming advice, and amidst cheers he’d quickly leave the podium.
He didn’t preach, but his stories often were about big issues. Yertle the Turtle (who represents Hitler) was written in delightful anapestic tetrameter. It was banned in some areas for being ‘too political.’ Sneetches on Beaches was written in 1961 to teach children about discrimination. He wrote the book to address how different groups of people didn’t like each other during World War II. A number of the Seuss books address the subject of diversity and teach children to be fair and treat people equally. And there’s my favorite The Lorax. I don’t mean the silly movie adaptation, I mean his version, the book. Ted was a stickler on getting every single color in his books the way he wanted. He’d have loud conversations about this. And when a few stories were made into cartoons, he wanted them his way. It was his work. Not so sure he’d approve of the Grinch That Stole Christmas movie that takes liberties with his writing (sorry Jim Carrey.) But who knows… Back to The Lorax which was written in 1971. It chronicles the plight of the environment and the Lorax “speaks for the trees” and confronts the Once-ler, who causes environmental degradation. At the end when the last tree stump remains, there is written upon it one word:
He’s left a legacy. I can’t begin to recount the tidbits I learned from the book. I do know that somewhere in this house I’ve got an “adult” Dr. Suess book, full of his art meant for adults. No I can’t find the book, but I was able to locate a few of the art pieces from this site ( https://www.drseussart.com/secretandarchive ):
CAT FROM THE WRONG SIDE OF THE TRACKS
THE RATHER ODD MYOPIC WOMAN
Art in My Life and Other Updates
Finally finished the mime video for the event in October. With son Silas’ video production skills much appreciated. Cannot share until after event at CARD (Center for Autism & Related Disorders). It is a great feeling of accomplishment to have something creative come to fruition after much work. And although never really achieving my “unique” artistic vision, nonetheless it becomes an eccentric but heartfelt entity all its own!
Received these from a friend on a day I much needed a smile:
My 19 yr. old cat has been having seizures, one of which he had on my lap. When he does this, his mouth snaps open and closed, biting the air. My finger was in the way. He ended up biting my finger which can be dangerous. I can barely move it and am on antibiotics.
My son is in a highly creative mode of life, having won a contest recently. A pill company sponsored a contest whereby they send you a red and white capsule, and you sculpt art to go inside it. His creation (on the right) is a tiny wax skeleton, a casket and dirt from our yard, all of which fit in the capsule. He didn’t win first or even second prize but the contest judges like his and another person’s submissions so much they created a special category:
Another of Silas’ works:
Like me, he picks up interesting things by the roadside. He made some into this:
Silas and his girlfriend are going to be featured in Keri Bower’s film “Desire,” in fact we have more taping to do later this month. Silas is supplying music for it too.
For the most part, I keep to myself. I enjoy my day job as a QA software tester. I love deeply and am loved deeply by my small circle. I am currently grateful thankful and even at times hopeful that the world is going to be alright. Although the times we live in are painful to bear witness to, a lot of the time. Currently I am enjoying the respite here in the east from the heat. Fall is coming on.
In my free time, I do my house chores and run errands and adore grandchildren and keep up with doctor appointments. But I also do what I’ve always done- fill my need to create. And also to advocate, occasionally consulting with college students when they are studying or writing about autism and/or selective mutism. I occasionally get emails that humble and thrill me. I received two such emails this week. Which I’ll share here. Sometime ago, I was published in this book:
I got an email from Belo recently, here it is in part:
Dear Firsts Authors,
I have some wonderful news to share. Firsts has received a gold medal under the nonfiction anthology category from the Reader’s favorite Awards. This means you are all now award-winning authors!
…..There will be a ceremony in Miami on Nov 23rd, 2019 to recognize all winners.
…..They will make the official announcement on Oct 1st via their website and Publisher’s Weekly. While they haven’t made this entire official just yet, it’s perfectly fine to update your bio and call yourself an award-winning author. Also, I am attaching the seal image and award certificate for those who wish to add it to their websites. Oleb Books will be making the announcement via social later this week.
Congratulations to all of you – and big thanks for believing in me and in this project.
Cheers,
Belo
I really really have to update my website! Belo, who I didn’t realize had a disability (he is blind) all the while we were emailing my contribution back and forth for this book, truly deserves this honor.
Another surprising email came from a literary publication I haven’t been published in for over a decade. Here is the email, in part… and if you are still reading this blogpost, which is always all over the place, I thank you.
“We would like to feature you as an artist, along with some images of your artwork, in an upcoming issue of our publication. …..we have reviewed work on your website and are quite impressed.
Since we only publish two issues per year, January and July, and we only feature one artist per issue, we are thinking of featuring your work in the July 2020 issue of the magazine. I interview the artists we feature and write the article. We typically use 9 – 11 artwork images in each issue. “
I said yes to that. It’s such an opportunity to pick art pieces I feel ‘say something’ about how I feel as a “terrestrial.” Because aren’t we all terrestrials? Not just citizens of this country or that one, but citizens of earth. I read that recently and cannot seem to remember the book I picked it up from. Isn’t that awful! Here is an artwork I may or may not have posted here in my blog (I’ve forgotten!)
Anyway, I see the CARD event I mentioned earlier, and the interview for the magazine as opportunities to say things in ways I could never vocalize from podiums. Through mime-face, and art images and through written word.
my web site which needs work LINK here
My Book Link Here
Silas Art link
Suess Review (Jones) and My Art Updates TED, UNRAVELED Memoirs are my favorite books to read, along with nonfiction, and also biology and neuroscience, and autobiography and biographies too.
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