#i knew this would be part of the challenge/adjustment of this role!

[whentherewerebicycles]

I think one thing I am finding a bit draining about higher ed admin work is that we spend sooooo much time talking about students but so little time building and sustaining relationships with actual students. like we do lots of focus groups and one-off advising sessions and random drop-ins at events but we don’t get to teach students for a whole semester or advise a student for the whole year or whatever. and idk all the ‘talking about a group without sustained relationships with that group’ means that the group you’re talking about becomes this sort of abstracted Concept, this enigmatic and unknowable entity you are always seeking to court or appease or entreat or whatever. which idk lots of problems there that I won’t get into! but I also think you just get less of the joy and clarity of purpose that flows through building real relationships with kids and getting to know them better over a longer period of time. idk I think of some of the kids I worked with for three or four years at my old institution, where I got to discover over time how funny they were, how particular in their likes and dislikes, what made them nervous vs. what made them feel really good about themselves, how they talked and who their friends were and what their relationship with their families was like, all the little idiosyncrasies that make you realize over and over again how different kids are from each other and just… idk… how empty and self-serving our abstract concept of The Students can become. [redacted] is always saying things like “we must center student voice in this!” and it’s like okayyy yeah I know what you mean but there are as many student voices on this campus as there are students! and also you are afraid of students and get visibly nervous when you’re left in a room with them 😂 idk I love my job and see myself here for a long time, but also working mostly with other adults is nowhere near as fun as working with kids and I can see how easy it is to get stuck in these rarefied little pockets of the university where it’s just all budgets and working groups and last year’s assessment data all the time, and you’re totally cut off from that rushing current of life and joy and exasperation and Huge Feelings that flows through working with kids.

[urdepressedslut]

You’re Mine, Sunshine

♡ Pairing: Grumpy!Bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x Sunshine!Fem!Reader

♡ Summary: Bucky gets picked by a very rich and respected man to be his daughter’s personal bodyguard. The Father warns him that it won’t be an easy job, that she is a brat and difficult to deal with. But what happens when Bucky meets you and you’re the complete opposite?

♡ Warnings: mentions of amputation, light angst, hints to violence, mentions of death, bucky being a grumpy man

Part 2

Trope ⇢ Grumpy x Sunshine | Mob!AU Bodyguard!AU

“Mr. Barnes, your résumé so far is quite impressive.” Pierce acknowledged with a slow nod.

Bucky of course had a trained eye, but the glares that were not so subtly sent his way by the big boss— were intimidating. He wasn’t scared, no. He simply respected this man’s power. Bucky knew better than to get on the bad side of someone like Pierce.

“Says here you’re an amputee?” Pierce asked so bluntly, and he noticed Bucky’s eyes squint slightly. “Sorry, if I’m overstepping but nothing will be overlooked.”

“It’s not a problem, sir.” Bucky assured him. “Yes, I lost my left arm during a mission way back.”

Pierce furrowed his brows.

“Mission? I take it you used to be an agent of some sort.” He assumed.

Bucky nodded.

“Hm, very good. Continue.” He waved him on.

“I had some surgical procedures— and now I have a prosthetic.”

Bucky lifted his left arm, rolling his sleeve slightly up to expose the metal to the boss. Pierce hummed impressively, taking in the intricate designs on the metal.

“I can assure you that me having a prosthetic will not be an issue— my arm is made out of only the strongest metal. Bullet proof, in fact.” He added, hoping it would further impress the boss, proving just how perfect for the job he was.

It wasn’t his dream to be a bodyguard, actually it was quite a low in his career— if you asked him. He had fallen out of his previous steady job, due to some complications. He had the experience of being a bodyguard— just not for only one person. It would be a weird change for him, but he was willing to take on the challenge. Also, the pay was nice.

Pierce hummed again, the information that his prosthetic arm was bullet proof— only satisfying him more.

“Like I said, impressive Mr. Barnes. But this is an extremely important task. My only daughter, who must be protected at all costs.” Pierce trailed off, expression growing serious. “It’s been a hard adjustment since the passing of my wife, my daughter is all I have left.”

Bucky nodded in understanding, knowing what it was like to lose loved ones. In fact, that wound was still fresh on him.

“If I allow you to take on this role, you are to swear to yourself that you will do whatever it takes to keep her alive— no matter what.” Pierce spoke loudly, his voice orotund.

Bucky in the back of his mind thought about his choice of words. ‘If I allow you.’ Bucky respected this man, but he had to hold back the scoff that threatened to escape his lips at his statement.

“Do you think you’re ready for that?” Pierce challenged, and suddenly it wasn’t about his daughter at all. It was a man challenging another man, a task that he deemed impossible.

His metal hand behind his back whirred in annoyance. After all that fluffing his head up, complimenting his training. It was clear Pierce thought so little of him, and at that— it made Bucky wanna take the job even more. Just to prove him wrong.

“Yes sir.” Bucky promised, shaking Pierces hand in a firm— slightly aggressive shake.

Pierce smiled, dropping Bucky’s résumé on his desk. Getting himself comfortable, he sat on the edge of the front of the desk, crossing his arms.

“Now, let’s go through what is to be expected.” He started, Bucky nodded for him to continue. “You are to be with her at all times, except for when you sleep. You do sleep right?”

Bucky let the scoff escape this time, but it wasn’t as aggressive as he wanted it to be.

“I’ve got a metal arm, but I’m still human sir.”

Pierce chuckled to himself, and Bucky wanted to roll his eyes. This man thinks he’s so funny.

“Right. You must never let her leave your sight, if she wants to see her friends— you’ll be seeing them with her. Not that it’s going to be an issue, I don’t think she has many friends… or any.” The boss shrugged, seemingly unconcerned about his daughter.

Bucky nodded, taking everything in.

“You are going to be staying with her in the safe house… well— she thinks it’s just a house but the area is guarded with my men.” He shrugged again. “I’m a successful man and with that comes enemies, people who look for my weaknesses. You know that.”

Bucky gave a tight lipped smile, Pierce so far sounding like a father of the year.

“Now, about my daughter. Her name is (Y/n) (Y/L/n), and she is a handful.” Pierce stated frustratedly. “She’s rude, ungrateful, nasty— and just overall extremely difficult.”

Bucky furrowed his brows, rethinking his decision to be a bodyguard for this girl. Fucking lovely.

“You can now understand why I’m paying you the offered amount. It’s only fair to you, Mr. Barnes. Truthfully, I can’t deal with her anymore. I love her, and she’s my daughter but… It just doesn’t work out with me. I’m a busy man— I don’t have time for brats.” Pierce spat, straightening up and heading back around his desk.

Bucky had already been creating this mental image of you, so far you sounded like a witch. He was not at all ready to be dealing with you 24/7.

“Doesn’t sound like a problem boss, I’m happy to be protecting your daughter. Nobody will lay a hair on her head, I swear on my life.” Bucky promised again, bowing his head slightly.

“Oh I know. If anything happens to her and I find out you were slacking even by an inch… well you’re a smart man, I’m sure you can figure it out.” Pierce warned, and Bucky swallowed at the mere intimidation that laced his voice.

But he would not back down to this challenge, which is how he saw this— not a job.

“That will be all Mr. Barnes, (Y/n) is around here somewhere. Find her and take her home.” He told Bucky, putting on his glasses— focusing on his paperwork.

“Yes sir.”

Bucky nodded and turned to exit the room. He was so confused with the interaction. You’d think someone who hires a bodyguard for their daughter would know where their daughter is. The way he spoke about you was off putting. Bucky didn’t even know you, but it felt wrong to hear someone talk so little about you. What did he know anyway— apparently you were a monster.

He made his way through the building with a swift walk, needing to fulfill his duties and find you quickly. He was on the third floor, about to hit the button to the elevator when he saw a young lady. Despite him wanting to find you all on his own, he got her attention.

“Excuse me,” He waved to her with a fake smile, “Do you know where I can find (Y/n) (Y/L/n)?”

The lady smiled and took Bucky by surprise by laughing. His fake smile vanished immediately, his eyes squinting in a annoyed expression.

“That would be me!” You exclaimed with a warm smile.

Bucky’s eyes widened and he thought for a second he was being fucked with, but after you stayed smiling at him, being as patient as ever— he knew you weren’t joking.

“Uh right… Your dad is Pierce?” He asked hesitantly, keeping his guard up. Still thinking someone was messing with him— testing him.

You nodded slowly, giving him a curious expression. Your smile never wavering.

“Yes, and you are?” You asked so politely.

Bucky shouldn’t of been as shocked as he was but truthfully, he was expecting a demon spawn of a person. Red eyes, withered flowers left in your path, a literal storm cloud floating over you— but you looked so normal. So sweet and pretty. Your hair smelled so strongly of strawberry shampoo, he could catch the scent from his spot. Your voice was like honey, the sound soothing.

He was confused as to why your father thought so wrongly of you. He had too many questions.

He cleared his throat, straightening himself now that he believed you were who he was looking for.

“(Y/n), my name is Mr. Barnes— I’ve been hired as your personal bodyguard.” He informed you, watching the corners of your mouth falter slightly.

“Oh, did my Father hire you?” You asked politely.

“Yes ma’am.”

You nodded your head, attempting to keep a smile on your face. But you couldn’t help the distaste for being given a bodyguard. You knew it was only for the sole purpose, that your Father didn’t want to care for you anymore. He wanted nothing to do with you. That fact was enough to make your nose start to burn, but you held yourself together— not wanting to break down in front of this new guy.

Bucky watched you take in the information, the way you took a deep breath, almost controlling yourself before you spoke again.

“Nice to meet you Mr. Barnes. I’m sure we’re going to be great friends.” You told him.

Bucky shook his head, an annoyed expression etching his face.

“Ma’am, I think we should keep things professional. I have been hired as your bodyguard. Let me do my job, and you can continue with your day as usual. You won’t even know I’m here half the time.” He explained rather harshly.

You seemed taken aback, his words hurting you more than they should’ve. You were lonely, and you thought you’d be able to get a friend out of this situation. Even if he was being hired to hang around you. Luck didn’t seem to be on your side as he told you off. The burning felt stronger in your nose, and you took another deep breath.

Bucky only felt bad for a second, but he was quickly snapping back to reality. It was his life on the line to protect you, and if Bucky was anything— it was that he was good at doing his job. This was business, not playtime.

“I’m here to take you home. Are you ready?” He asked you.

You relaxed your quick beating heart, not even having time to speak with your Father. Not that he’d want to anyway. So much had changed since your Mother passed, you had yet to heal those wounds.

You nodded with a weaker smile, one that didn’t quite reach your eyes. If Bucky had noticed your sudden mood change, he didn’t mention it— instead guiding you outside.

He opened the door to the car that was waiting outside for you, climbing in himself after you were settled.

He started driving to your place, with the help of the car telling him directions.

Meanwhile you gazed out the window, watching the buildings pass by. You forced yourself to keep a small smile on your face, hoping you’d convince yourself that the gesture was genuine if you did it long enough.

Bucky glanced back at you through the rear view mirror from time to time, watching you look out the window. He was still trying to come to terms with how polite you were, how completely opposite you were to your Fathers description.

On one hand it was a relief that he didn’t have to deal with the devil. On the other hand… he was anxious to see where this job would lead him.

A/N: I don’t know what is wrong with me, but suddenly I had this urge to write a bodyguard!bucky fic. let’s be honest, we are all slut’s for bodyguard!bucky 😭 I’m also a whore for the trope grumpy x sunshine 🥰🥴 let me know what you think— this is all word vomit.

[bloodycassian]

Enemy Lines - Reader x Azriel - reader is caught by the Autumn Court and Azriel saves her.

TW - themes of torture/death, gruesome violence, damsel in distress reader, savior Azriel

“I don’t want her going alone.” Azriel’s words were clipped towards his high lord. It seemed that the other part of Rhysand, his brother, would be unavailable for this matter. Azriel wasn’t sure if he blamed him. 

“I understand your bond is new, but this is essential, Azriel.” He said calmly, hardly looking up from the maps atop the table. 

He couldn’t help the way his lips pulled back in disgust. “So send Feyre, then.” He shot back, unable to contain the words. Rhys stilled, then finally, finally looked at Azriel. 

Pity coasted his features, then hardened back into that mask of the high lord. “Feyre does not have the same gifts. It would defeat the purpose-”

“Send me, send anyone else. Rhys this is a death sentence!” 

“Have faith in your mate, Azriel. She is talented, and smarter than you give her credit for.” His dismissal was not angry, nor was it painted with that pitying look he’d shown before. To his credit, he revealed no sign of budging on the matter, even while one of the few that could challenge him and survive raged at him.

Azriel saw the conversation going nowhere, and stormed from the room.

+

The robes were uncomfortable. You sighed and adjusted your position in the saddle again, wishing to the Mother you’d picked a different disguise for this role. The priestess uniform had made you look utterly delectable though, so there was no complaining there. Not as Azriel had whispered filthy things to you while he flew you to the closest stable where he was sure there were no Autumn cout guards or spies lingering. 

You bought the cheapest horse they had, and it’d been a mistake. 

The mare threw her head and nearly reared each time Azriel got within a few yards of her. It made the journey much longer without your mate at your side. You’d planned to at least say goodbye to him before you got to the Autumn border, but with such a fussy mare, it seemed that it wouldn’t happen. 

So as the humidity and heat started to peak, you waved behind you, to the darkening sky where you knew Azriel watched from afar. 

+

You had four days to get as much information as you could on Beron’s plans. He’d recently began acquiring more and more ships along his shoreline, and it’d caused a stir. Skiffs, warships and cargo boats clotted his waterways as you rode up the bridge to the bunker castle, nestled into the leaf littered ground. 

Your pale robes stood out in bright contrast against all the red, orange and brown shades of this place. Guards closed in from the trees once you crossed, meeting you at the outer gates of the castle. Two males stood in front, spears sharp and at the ready. 

“State your business.” One commanded. 

The glamour over your face was essential now, and you made sure it did not slip as you spoke.

“The Mother sends you a Priestess, and you meet her with violence?” You called back.

Your heart quickened as you stepped down from the horse, a vulnerable time of dismount would be the perfect moment to kill. They could take it as a threat, and be justified in their murder.

“I am Vivienne, of the Kallos Sea. I understand your previous priestess has…” You paused for effect, knowing that she was on a very long sailing back to Valhallan. “Abandoned her duties.” 

“How could you-” The leader began, but was interrupted by the enormous stone doors opening. 

“Welcome, priestess.” Eris Vanserra welcomed you, waving you forward.

+

“I understand that the temple in Valhallan has been undergoing restructuring. Much overdo, in my opinion.``You hummed in agreement, made absent comments while you searched the walls and doors for any hint at where Beron’s office may be. Eris made kind smalltalk while he showed you to your room. The male was charming, but revealed nothing about the influx of ships when you hinted towards it.

Remnants of the missing priestess still lay about. The candles, gems and potions lined the shelves on the walls. Personal artifacts had been cleared, and you hoped the female wasn’t fond of the items left behind. Azriel was only able to capture her because her journey to the nearest temple had taken her out of sight of the court’s many guard stations. 

“My lady?” Eris prompted, his forehead pinched. He’d been speaking. You cursed yourself, you feigned sadness, and placed a hand upon your chest. “I apologize my lord, it has been.. Distressing to say the least. With Liasia disappearing it is… unsettling.” You fanned your face, making sure that the false tears showed. 

“You’re safe here.” Eris assured, with a squeeze to your shoulder. His hand left behind a tingling, heated sensation on your skin. A reminder of what he was? What power he possessed? He looked at you, his golden gaze darkening. “Just be sure you have someone with you if you exit the manor.” 

You batted your eyes at him, playing the part of seductive priestess well. “I’d ask for you if I did, prince.” 

That got him to smile. “Please do. I’d be more than happy to show you my court.” 

A new idea sparked in your mind. Perhaps you wouldn’t need to make this a rushed, blind mission. If Eris was as paliape as he seemed to be for you, perhaps he’d give you the information willingly. 

His gaze lingered on you, even as he bid you goodnight.

+

The rotting scent only seemed extreme when your torturers came and went. The fresh air they brought with them a curse more than a relief. All around the Autumn dungeons seemed to reek and ooze with the smell of decay and half eaten things. A bucket of rats in the corner, long dead was swarmed with maggots. The trays of food you’d not eaten had been thrown against the walls, food for more scurrying things to feast upon.

Eris did none of the torturing himself. He did watch though, and questioned while a hooded and masked male did the carving. You had two fingernails left, from what you’d been able to see through your swollen eyes. They’d had some kind of powder, an itching, burning thing that they used when they’d gotten sick of the blood. 

But you hadn’t broken. The glamour was still in place, and you’d die before implicating your court. 

“You smell of snow and wind and rivers. Not of the Ocean, Vivenne.” Eris had whispered, so close you could feel his hot breath on your ear. “There is no reconstruction the Mother’s Temple. The Valhallan sages think it to be distasteful.” He said smugly. 

Though you cursed yourself for falling to such a trap, you worried more for Azriel, who by your estimation would be arriving in less than a day for your rescue.

“Perhaps you don’t know all that you think you do, Prince.” You strained for the words, little more than a whisper.

+

The hours were grinding on Azriel’s nerves. He had gotten the sense that something was wrong days ago, but he refused to act. The bond had remained quiet, diluted almost from the Glamour. He did not enjoy being so blinded from you. Without the mental link, he felt lost, like a ship without course. 

Night fell, and he decided he could no longer wait. He did not warn Rhys or Cassian, because he know - deep in his bones - that something was wrong. Something more than just his mate being late to their meeting point. Something had gone wrong. 

So, with a running start, he flew through the Autumn Court borders and vowed to the Mother he’d find you or die trying. 

+

The pain was less than a pinch, each time they drew your blood. The blades and odd things they used were nothing, compared to the poisoned prods they’d put in your back. Fire rippled through you with every breath, with every heartbeat that dragged the poison through you. 

Your eyes no longer wept from the throbbing, your voice was gone from the screaming. You held on faintly, to the glimmering bond deep inside your mind - your soul. The thick rope that seemed to be vibrating, warm and welcoming to your presence held you together. It was Azriel. It had to be, because if it wasn’t then what was the point of holding on any longer? 

You could feel something like peace embrace you, every time you’d pass out. Darkness greeted you with open arms, enticing you to fall into the shapeless pit. But that cord, that part of you that loved Azriel more than it feared the pain… it was stronger. It helped you stay, to remain in this world for a few more hours. Days? How long had it been since Eris’ guards had ambushed you? 

The question brought forth the violence of consciousness. The males before you came into focus again, and you body tensed. The fire along your back heightened, earning a broken sob from your chest. 

“Tell me where you’re from, who you’re with, and this can be over.” Eris promised, his voice like honey in the darkness. And Mother above it was tempting. So incredibly tempting to allow the words to come out. The answer to what he wanted was only a few syllables. You could feel your hold on the Glamour beginning to shake. 

There was a thudding sound, far above the prison cell. Dirt shifted and rained down from the ceiling above. An earthquake, hopefully - that would rid you of this pain faster than you’d hope. 

Eris flicked a hand, and two of the guards left the room. When the door opened, revealing silvered moonlight from the windows in the hall, it also made that decaying scent swirl and vacate the room for a moment.

And when you’d normally cringe, and attempt to hold your breath, this fresh air was different. It was cold. Downright freezing, in fact. The guards hesitated outside the door, and the screaming began.

+

“Where is she.” Azriel’s voice was not his own. It was a growl, a demand and promise of wrath if the boy did not answer his question. The redhead stammered, and clawed at the shadowsinger’s hands, his eyes wide and horrified at what he saw before him.

He let the boy drop. It’d be more likely a guard would know. Azriel was having a hard time getting to the logic of things though, when he sensed the pain his mate was in. When he knew he’d been right all along, and Rhys should have listened.

The compiled rage leaked from him like a poison. Every guard who got close enough fainted or died on the spot from the intensity of the shadows, the nightmares they saw there. He reigned them in, his surroundings coming into focus. He took a breath, and it was as if his senses were heightened in this state. 

There was a male hiding behind the next corner, beside a barrel of wine and stores of bread. Azriel was there in an instant, his shadows taking him so easily, like liquid from one space to the other. 

“Where is she?” He said the words calmly, but they still came out through his teeth. 

“W-who-”

“The priestess!” Azriel’s blade was at the male’s neck in the next heartbeat. There wouldn’t be survivors here, not tonight. 

“The cells are down the next hall, the door on the left with the lock. The Prince is there as well-” With the teary confession, Azriel threw the male against the wall, flecks of bone chasing his shadows as he winnowed to the end of the hall. 

+

The screams were growing louder, more frantic before ending abruptly. Eris flicked a hand again, and all the devices and pain actively hurting you disappeared. The torturer included. Had he been a figment the entire time? More shouts echoed through the halls. 

A smile curled your lip, stretching the skin to the point of pain. Then, you couldn’t help but laugh. As much as you could anyway, it came out more like bitter coughs. 

Eris was moving then, a swift backhand had you spitting up blood between laughs. He unhooked your legs, then your arms. He held you up by the waist, then decided better and let you fall to the ground. Your body sparked in pain, protesting at every movement. Something cold pressed to your neck, and you closed your eyes, blood tipping back in your throat. 

The cold air flowing into the room stopped all together, and the silvery light of the moon faded. Your heart thundered, every joint in your body throbbing in time with it. Pain sang through you, a symphony of aches and split scabs being torn apart.

The guards at the door shuffled, holding their weapons at the ready, then abruptly fell to their knees. There was no sound, other than the clang of their weapons against the stone. 

Azriel appeared in the doorway like a god, wrathful and wielding his power like a part of himself. Your tears stung your wounds as they fell. You mouthed his name, unable to make the word out around the knot in your throat. 

“Not another step, Shadowsinger.” The knife at your throat pinched, and warmth flowed down your chest. 

Azriel straightened, his jaw flexing. “What about her?” Azriel held up a hand, and a red haired female appeared, a gag in her mouth and tears in her eyes. You recognized her as the Beron’s wife, the Lady of Autumn. Eris’s knife relaxed at your throat, and his other no longer held you in place. Your body sagged, threatening to fall without the support of his other hand at your shoulder. 

“You wouldn’t. She’s done nothing.” Eris spat, and a cruel smile played at Azriel’s lips. Truth teller laid a streak of blood upon the Lady’s high cheekbone, carving down, down, down-

“Enough!” Eris was shaking, you could feel it reverberating through his legs. 

“Let her go.” Azriel’s eyes darted to yours, and he blinked quickly. “Release her Eris, or I’ll be sure she regrets ever birthing you.” 

“I’m certain she already does.” Eris muttered, shame weighing his voice. He nudged you forward, and you nearly fell face first to the floor but Azriel was there - and you were gone. Cool shadows embracing you, circling you like a cat. 

“What did they do- what hurts the most?” Azriel was asking before he’d even stepped from his shadows. You landed together in damp leaves, the moon’s light making you squint. 

His hands shook as they grazed over your tattered clothes. His mind warring with revenge and healing. The glamour on your face was rippling and changing, shifting between the face he loved and the one of a stranger. But your scent. He inhaled deeply, greedily, even though it was tainted with blood and something darker, more sinister beneath the surface. It was still you. Still his mate.

“Missed you.” You breathed, smiling at him through swollen lips. His heart ached, his stomach threatened to spill out right there on the decaying autumn ground. 

He tore off his top layer of leather, covering your shoulders with it. The siphons attached dulled but didn’t darken. He used parts of that glowing power to patch up the larger wounds he could see in the shadowy moonlight. Relief flooded him when that glamour finally shifted, and fell. Your face was a bloodied mess but he kissed you on the forehead anyway, as gentle as he could.

 He felt weak, so very tired and weak after the encounter. Fatigue pulled on him, even as the night air bit at his exposed arms once he took off into the sky. 

[slyscoutess]

paring: enzo vogrincic x fem!reader [ no faceclaim ] summary: your boyfriend, enzo, needs to lose a lot of weight during the filming of his new movie. You decided that you wouldn't let it be a torture for him, discovering and sharing new recipes together. writer: I always find myself thinking about Enzo talking about how it was a great time for him, the time he needed to lose weight. And I got the little idea of ​​him being quite domestic with his girlfriend, trying out those new recipes that would help with the weight loss journey.

( tradução para o português )

liked by franromerofran, vogrincicenzo, annafntoni and 123 others

yourusername It's been 84 years since this house went on a mandatory diet, mainly because I wouldn't leave Enzo completely alone in this, and now father and son are both kinda grumpy

view all 34 comments

simonhempe pipito suffering from having to eat healthily, just like me fr

yourusername He is suffering because his father can no longer spoil him with food, gato arruinado

moratodeschini give the cat what he wants, the man I don't really care????

kuku.esteban I'm in favor of hiring pipo to act in pipe's place, almost same name

rocco.posca wtf??? Why does your breakfast seem to be tastier than it should be??

matiasrecalt My meals are so tasteless I'm thinking about throwing myself off the cabbage tree vogrincicenzo thank god is my girlfriend who cook this type of thing for me

pipegonzalezotano missing real food hour

paubaldini this seems soo good, i'm gonna ugly cry

Enzo woke up that morning with a sense of calm and determination that enveloped him like a gentle hug. The sunlight, filtered through the partly open curtains, painted the room with a golden aura, making him feel as though he were immersed in a peaceful dream. Nestled between soft sheets, he allowed his mind to adjust to waking up, absorbing the serenity that permeated the environment. The enticing aroma of coffee wafted through the air, filling him with anticipation and comfort. He knew, without needing to get up, that his girlfriend was already in the kitchen, preparing breakfast with care and love. It was a ritual of connection, a way to start the day together, sharing not only meals but also dreams and aspirations.

The weight loss journey for his role in "The Snow Society" had become more than just a professional goal. It had become a central part of their lives, a shared journey that strengthened their bond and united them in a common purpose. They had embraced this journey together, facing challenges and celebrating victories side by side. Every morning, as they smelled the fresh coffee and contemplated the soft light flooding the room, they renewed their mutual commitment to care for each other and themselves. It was more than just losing weight for a role; it was about taking care of their bodies, nurturing their minds, and strengthening their relationship through mutual support and camaraderie.

With a gentle yawn, Enzo stretched in bed, letting the last remnants of sleep escape his body. Wearing his comfortable pajama shorts, he prepared for another day filled with challenges and adventures alongside his partner. Aware of the possibilities the day held, he filled himself with determination and curiosity, readily willing to face whatever came his way. As he stepped through the partly open door of the kitchen, Enzo was greeted by the familiar and comforting sound of hot water passing through the coffee filter. The welcoming aroma filled the room, enveloping him in an aura of comfort and familiarity. His girlfriend was focused, her skilled hands carefully cutting fresh fruits, ready to compose the perfect breakfast. The morning ritual of preparing the first meal of the day together was a tangible expression of their love and mutual commitment.

As he watched his partner work with skill, Enzo couldn't help but smile at Pipo, the couple's lazy cat, elegantly stretched out on the counter, lazily watching the kitchen activity. The feline was a constant presence in their lives, bringing comfort and joy with its serene and indolent personality. Enzo approached the counter, enveloping his girlfriend in a hug from behind, planting a loving kiss on her neck. The atmosphere was imbued with a tranquil serenity, as if the very air were suffused with an aura of peace. The gentle clinking of knives cutting fresh fruit was the only sound breaking the silence, creating a delicate and comforting melody that filled the kitchen. Enzo, entering quietly, contemplated the scene with a sense of calm and admiration.

His girlfriend was immersed in her work, her graceful and precise movements revealing the dedication and care she put into each task, not only in meal preparation but also in nurturing their relationship. Every fruit cut was executed with a mastery that denoted years of practice and love for the culinary arts. Enzo watched her with a sparkle in his eyes, marveling at his partner's skill and grace. It was as if she were dancing among the ingredients, moving with a natural harmony and fluidity that captivated his heart. In her delicate gestures, he saw not only a master in the kitchen but also a committed companion intent on making every shared moment special and meaningful.

As the sunlight gently spilled through the window, illuminating the scene with golden hues, Enzo felt inundated with a sense of gratitude and tenderness. That was the essence of the life they had built together: simple moments, yet laden with love and mutual care. And in that moment, as he stood there, silently admiring her, Enzo knew there was no place he'd rather be than by her side, sharing every small moment of the journey they had chosen to walk together.

Enzo felt a comforting warmth spread through his chest as he wrapped his girlfriend in a hug from behind, his arms enveloping her with tenderness and protection. The delicate scent emanating from her enveloped him like an invisible embrace, flooding his senses with a feeling of familiarity and love. She was more than his partner; she was his anchor amidst the storms of life, his source of comfort and strength in times of adversity. Closing his eyes for a brief moment, Enzo allowed himself to sink into that moment of shared intimacy, letting himself be carried away by the comforting sensation of being with the person he loved. Each beat of his heart seemed to echo the deep bond they shared, strengthening their connection and renewing his determination to face the challenges that lay ahead.

As his arms embraced his girlfriend, Enzo felt her gently interrupt the fruit cutting, her fingers sliding down his arm with a gentle caress. It was as if she could read his thoughts, sharing not only his concerns about the necessary weight loss for the role but also his determination to make this journey as bearable and rewarding as possible for both of them. It was in moments like these, surrounded by the calm of the morning and the comforting presence of each other, that Enzo found strength and inspiration to keep moving forward. Knowing they had each other to lean on, to share the joys and burdens of life, was an invaluable gift that he would never cease to cherish.

Enzo knew well that she had delved headfirst into extensive research, consulting nutritionists and exploring various approaches to diet and weight loss. Every article read, every conversation with experts, was an incessant quest for knowledge, an attempt to find the most effective and healthy path to achieve their goals. Her determination was palpable, and Enzo deeply admired her tireless dedication. Together, they had turned all that knowledge into action, developing a carefully crafted meal plan. Every meal was meticulously planned, ensuring they received all the necessary nutrients to sustain their bodies during the intense weight loss process. However, the plan wasn't just about nutritional aspects; they also made sure that each dish was an enjoyable gastronomic experience, preserving the taste and pleasure of food.

Enzo felt a profound sense of gratitude for having such a dedicated and loving partner by his side. She not only shared their goals but also invested her time and energy to ensure they achieved success together. It was a clear demonstration of the mutual commitment they nurtured, not only regarding weight loss but also in building and strengthening their relationship. As the comforting aroma of coffee filled the kitchen, Enzo took a moment to appreciate the tranquility of the moment. There, next to his partner, he knew that no matter how challenging the road ahead might be, they would be together.

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yourusername Today's lunch featured seafood, and for dessert, Enzo stole tangerines from the neighbor and pretended it was normal (which it probably is for him, since we don't buy tangerines and he's always eating one).

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kuku.esteban Tomorrow it will be in all the newspapers in Latin America: Uruguayan actor steals mixiricas and an INCAPABLE elderly man

vongrincicenzo incapable is me, that old man is in excellent condition

franromerofran stop immediately, you are prohibited from posting delicious food

yourusername that's my boyfriend fran franromerofran STOP

pipegonzalezotano NO MORE SALAD I BEG YOU

rocco.posca Another day, another desire to live in the Vogrincic house

feliperamusiomora petition for enzo to let us sleep on his couch vogrincicenzo petition denied, and don't listen to nena, she shouldn't agree

agustinpardella I can smell the shrimp in the photo, I'm going crazy

alfosinacarrocio I'm stopping in front of your house immediately

Enzo was sitting on the balcony of the apartment, immersed in his lines as he reviewed the script for his next project. The golden afternoon sun bathed the surroundings, gently warming his face and illuminating the space around him. The warm breeze blew softly, carrying with it the fresh scent of flowers from the garden below.

However, even amidst his concentration, something caught his attention. His eyes diverted from the paper and fixed on the tangerine trees in the front house. It was a simple yet captivating sight. The branches laden with small citrus fruits swayed gently in the wind, creating a delicate and mesmerizing dance. That old house had always held a charm over Enzo since he and his girlfriend moved into the apartment. The weathered walls and windows adorned with lace curtains evoked a sense of nostalgia and romance that he simply adored. But it was the tangerine trees that truly fascinated him.

Every time he looked at those small bushes, Enzo was transported to a place of tranquility and calm. With determination, Enzo carefully placed Pipo, his sleepy cat that was on his lap, onto the balcony table. He felt the slight weight of the feline transfer to the wood as he rose, ready to venture out. The sun still gently bathed the surroundings, casting playful shadows across the furniture.

Enzo leaned, but did not close, the balcony door silently, letting the cat enjoy the fresh air as he ventured outside. Passing through the kitchen, a delicious aroma of home-cooked food enveloped him. His girlfriend, wearing one of his oversized t-shirts and denim shorts, was focused on preparing lunch. Her hair fell casually over her shoulders as she skillfully stirred a pot. A wave of desire washed over him as he saw her there, so natural and beautiful in the simplicity of that everyday moment. Enzo felt an intense urge to approach her, to envelop her in his arms and whisper words of love. But he resisted, knowing he had a mission to accomplish that day.

With a discreet smile on his lips, Enzo restrained himself, averting his gaze with determination. With careful steps, he left the house and closed the door with a gentle click, ensuring there was no noise to disturb the tranquility inside. The wood of the door fit perfectly into the frame, as if cooperating with his intention to leave without attracting attention.

As the sun began to bathe the kitchen with its golden rays, the current cook of the house began to feel the gentle touch of Pipo sliding down her leg. She was surprised by the cat's presence there, knowing that at that time, he would probably be enjoying the sun on the balcony with Enzo. With a curious smile, she bent down to pet the feline and asked in a soft voice, "What are you doing here, Pipo? Where's your dad?" Pipo looked at her with his large curious eyes but made no sound in response. His tail moved slowly from side to side, as if subtly communicating something.

Intrigued, the woman picked up the cat and decided to investigate. With light steps and the cat nestled between her arms, she headed to the balcony, where she hoped to find her boyfriend. Upon reaching the glass door that separated the kitchen from the outdoor space, a gentle breeze caressed her face, bringing with it the fresh scent of plants and flowers. Her eyes scanned the balcony, looking for Enzo, but he wasn't there. She furrowed her brow, confused by his absence, but her heart warmed at the tranquil and serene scene before her. The sun's rays painted everything with golden hues, creating an atmosphere of peace and serenity.

With a contented sigh, Enzo's girlfriend approached the table, where Pipo used to settle next to his boyfriend. She imagined Enzo there, immersed in his thoughts or perhaps reviewing the script while the cat slept peacefully by his side. Realizing that Enzo wasn't on the balcony, his girlfriend began to search for him, talking to Pipo as she looked around. "Where did your dad go?" she muttered, while the cat meowed in response, as if trying to help in the search.

Her gaze eventually found Enzo in the front house, using his t-shirt to make a basket and pick tangerines from the neighbor's tree. With a playful smile, she greeted the man who lived in the house, saying, "Good morning, Mr. Oliveira!"

Enzo, surprised by his girlfriend's sudden appearance, quickly looked up and, in doing so, lost his balance, dropping some of the fruits he had picked, feeling somewhat embarrassed as he tried to retrieve the tangerines that had rolled out of the makeshift basket. His girlfriend chuckled softly at the situation, approaching to help him gather the fallen fruits. Enzo smiled, feeling relieved that it was just another playful joke from his beloved, until the voice of the neighboring gentleman emerged not as distant as he would have liked. "Good morning, dear, how's your afternoon going?" he addressed the neighbor with a wave, working in his garden not so far from the tangerine trees. Enzo's eyes widened quickly; it was clear that she would know about it, taking time to talk to her neighbor when she wasn't working and Enzo wasn't home. Enzo and his girlfriend looked at each other, sharing a knowing smile before Enzo quickly ran back to his apartment, leaving the freshly picked tangerines on the kitchen counter. Upon arriving home, he found his girlfriend still chatting with the neighbor on the balcony. He smiled to see her so comfortable but decided to surprise her and continue playing the role of the good guy to the old man who lived in the house across the street.

With light steps, Enzo pretended to leave the house for the first time that day, yawning exaggeratedly and stretching as he approached her from behind. The gentle breeze played with his hair as he approached, his loose t-shirt adorning his body casually. One of his hands slid gently to her waist, while the other stretched in a theatrical yawn. He leaned in to gently kiss the top of her head, his lips brushing lightly against her hair as he spoke.

"Ah, good morning, babe," he murmured sleepily, trying to maintain a tone of surprise in his voice. "Good morning, Mr. Oliveira!" his voice now a bit louder, as he greeted the neighbor, waving gently to him, who waved back. His girlfriend turned with a smile on her lips as she felt Enzo's touch, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she realized what he was doing, deciding to play along. "Good morning, sleepyhead," she replied, laughing softly. "Are you aware that it's already lunchtime?"

Enzo laughed, feeling happy to be sharing that relaxed moment with her. "You know how it is, I was up late last night, it was reealy hard to sleep," he joked, gently squeezing his girlfriend's waist in a loving gesture. The neighbor, who was watching the scene with a friendly smile, once again drew the couple's attention, engaging in a new conversation with the woman, occasionally bringing up Enzo, who, in turn, smiled at the neighbor, conveying an impression of courtesy and friendliness, but his thoughts were fully focused on the woman by his side.

Unable to resist the growing desire within him, Enzo let his hands slowly descend to her hips, feeling the softness of her skin beneath his fingers, which soon wandered to one side of her ass, still pretending normalcy, as if listening to the whole conversation. He gently squeezed it, conveying a subtle signal of possessiveness and affection as the conversation continued. Time seemed to slow down as they exchanged words with the neighbor, but inside, Enzo was eager for the moment when they would be alone again. Each touch, each glance exchanged with his girlfriend only heightened his longing for her.

As Enzo enveloped his girlfriend in a passionate embrace, she gently interrupted the effusive exchange of affection to address a few words to the neighbor, who was still watching from below. "Mr. Oliveira, I think it's time for lunch. Let's resume this conversation later, okay?" she said, smiling at the man as she slowly moved away from Enzo's embrace.

The neighbor nodded understandingly. "Of course, no problem! See you later, kids," he replied with a friendly smile before heading back to his house. With the brief interaction concluded, Enzo's girlfriend turned to him, ready to resume the moment of intimacy they had interrupted. However, before she could say anything, she felt Enzo's head bury into her neck, his arms wrapping around her from behind.

She sighed softly, feeling a shiver run down her spine with the light kisses Enzo left on her neck. It was a simple gesture, but filled with affection and tenderness, which made her feel loved and desired. The kisses gradually turned into nibbles, causing the woman to lean back into her boyfriend's warm touch, who in turn pressed his hips more against hers, his lips delicately moving to her ear. "Let's go inside, babe, I need to eat something…" he whispered in her ear, his voice husky and incredibly endearing, he knew well when and how to use it. "Lunch is ready, we can serve ourselves now, my love," she commented. Enzo chuckled playfully at her response, squeezing her more in his arms with tenderness. "Always thinking about food, huh?" He said with a teasing smile, his lips gently brushing against her neck as he spoke. "But I think I can make an effort not to completely exhaust you, after all, the smell of lunch is so good that it would be a sin not to enjoy it later," he whispered, before pulling her back into the house again.

liked by agustinpardella, kuku.esteban, paulabaldini and 113 others

yourusername Time to replenish some shortages in the fridge, and Pipito decided he didn't want to leave Enzo's lap, or was it Enzo who decided not to let go of the cat?

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moratodeschini Living or just waiting for the moment when I'll steal Enzo's cat and girl?

vongrincicenzo please don't feliperamusiomora I'm right here, you know?

simonhempe pipito just living the life I dream of

yourusername you dream abou my boyfriend's lap? vogrincicenzo I also dream about u

pipegonzalezotano your fridge must be very sad

rocco.posca just waiting for her to decide what they are going to eat for dinner so she can give me the drive with the recipes for my menu for tomorrow

matiasrecalt Rocco said something about uploads a recipe drive every night, nena send it to me

kuku.esteban It's good that you went out shopping and aren't stealing from other people's houses

agustinpardella Who's to say they didn't steal from the market? jeronimogiocondobosia and tomorrow in the daily newspaper . . .

As Enzo and his partner walked through the aisles filled with shelves brimming with colorful and aromatic ingredients, a package of pasta caught her attention. With a smile on her lips, she picked it up, displaying it with a curious gaze. "What kind of sauce do you prefer today, love?" Her voice carried a note of curiosity, as if she were ready to venture into creating a new dish. Enzo, staring at the package with anticipation in his eyes, considered for a moment before replying, his smile widening as he imagined the flavors blending perfectly.

"How about a well-seasoned tomato sauce?" he suggested, his mind already running through the steps to prepare the dish. He could visualize the fresh tomatoes being cut into juicy pieces, the aroma of garlic browning in the pan, and the spices dancing around, ready to transform the simple pasta into a culinary masterpiece. His partner nodded with a smile of approval and said softly, "You know, I was thinking, we could try that recipe we saw on TikTok? It looked delicious and would be a great option for breakfast."

Enzo smiled, agreeing with the idea. "We can do that tomorrow morning. I think it will be a perfect way to start the day." As they continued to wait in line at the checkout, Enzo felt a comforting warmth as he held his partner's hand. It was a simple gesture, but it filled his heart with love and gratitude. He realized how lucky he was to have someone so special by his side.

Enzo looked at his partner and said with a sincere smile, "You always have the best ideas . . ." He quickly heard his girlfriend's laughter, as she hugged onto his arm, a great deal of affection in her laughter. As they waited in the checkout line, the tranquil atmosphere of the market seemed to envelop them in a cocoon of intimacy. Enzo felt her body heat drawing closer, and before he could realize it, she gently rested her face on his shoulder, their gazes meeting in a moment of complicity. Her eyes sparkled with tenderness as they looked at him, conveying a feeling of affection and connection that filled Enzo's heart with a sweet sensation of love. He could feel the warmth of her breath, each beat of her heart seemed to echo in perfect harmony with his own. Without thinking too much, Enzo let his instincts guide his actions. With an almost instinctive gentleness, he leaned forward slightly, capturing her lips in a quick and delicate kiss. It was a simple gesture, but full of meaning, an expression of affection that spoke volumes without the need for words. Her lips responded to the touch, their hearts dancing in unison, sealing the moment with a sweet promise of mutual love and unconditional support. The world around them seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them, lost in their own little universe of affection and love.

"I have to start changing supermarkets," Enzo and his partner were immersed in their own world, lost in the sweet moment they shared, when a familiar voice interrupted their bubble of intimacy. It was the lively voice of Matias Recalt, certainly the couple's best and closest friend, approaching with a shopping basket. "A little modesty, please," exclaimed Matias, with a playful smile on his face. Enzo and his partner quickly separated, blushing slightly at the surprise of being caught in such an intimate moment. They exchanged quick glances, sharing a shy smile before greeting Matias. "Hi, Matias!" said Enzo, trying to disguise his surprise. "How are you?" Matias laughed, noticing the slight tension in the air. "Sorry for interrupting your romantic moment. I hope I was being intrusive!" The woman laughed, shaking her head. "Don't worry, Matias, we just got a little distracted." Enzo agreed, relieved to see Matias's easygoing nature. "Oh, didn't even notice."

As they waited in the checkout line, the conversation between the three flowed naturally, as it always did when they were together. Matias shared some funny stories about his day, and Enzo couldn't help but laugh, while his partner smiled, enjoying the friends' banter.

Meanwhile, they went through their purchases, each carrying their baskets towards the checkout. The atmosphere was light and relaxed, and Enzo felt grateful for the presence of their friends. When it was finally their turn at the checkout, Matias bid them farewell with a wave, wishing them a good night. Enzo and his partner thanked him for the enjoyable encounter and exchanged more smiles before heading out of the market.

The cool night air enveloped them as they exited, and Enzo and his girlfriend walked together towards their parked bicycles. They intertwined their hands, a simple yet meaningful connection that symbolized the support and affection they shared.

"And that would be another almost end of the day," said Enzo, looking at his partner with a smile. She nodded, agreeing. "Yes, even though it was interrupted at the end."

Enzo laughed, agreeing with her. "True, I found it funny he wrote down everything you bought so he could cook tomorrow." They reached their bicycles and, together, mounted them, ready to head back home.

liked by matiasrecalt, blaspolidori, dellagustin and 109 others

yourusername Ending the day with the cast on The Sims.

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blaspolidori enzo playing himself playing on the sims

yourusername he was planning our wedding vogrincicenzo and you're the flower boy, blas

simonhempe everyone of the cast?

yourusername there are some that are not filmbayona I am? yourusername yes, but you mysteriously starved

pipegonzalezotano tell me that at least then I'm watching football eating real meat

rocco.posca I hope you downloaded a mod for my hair

matiasrecalt I love this game I'm the same height as blas

moratodeschini should we tell Enzo that she has wicked whims??

alfosinacarrocio let's wait for the reaction vogrincicenzo guys . . . it was so much out of nowhere

After a peaceful and comforting night, Enzo and his girlfriend decided to spend some time together playing The Sims. Sitting comfortably on his lap, she skillfully held the mouse while he watched attentively at the computer screen, immersed in the virtual world unfolding before them. Together, they built a small fictional community with characters from the movie cast, with every detail carefully planned to reflect their tastes and personalities. Enzo was fascinated watching his girlfriend's creativity flow as she decorated the houses, chose the furniture, and planned the sims' careers. It was as if they were creating their own world, where they could escape the daily worries and get lost in imaginary adventures.

As she delved into the game, Enzo appreciated the opportunity to simply observe her, marveling at how her expression brightened with every achievement and challenge overcome. Feeling the warmth of her presence on his lap was comforting, a constant reminder of the love and companionship they shared. Enzo watched closely at the computer screen as his girlfriend manipulated the game controls. Suddenly, an interaction between the sim representing him and the one representing his girlfriend caught his attention. He watched with fascination as the sims exchanged gestures of affection, somehow reflecting the dynamics of their own relationship.

However, his surprise soon turned to shock when suddenly the game activated a mod known as Wicked Whims. His face twisted in a expression of surprise and confusion as he witnessed the explicitly romantic interactions between the sims, far beyond what he was used to seeing in the game. Turning to his girlfriend, who was still comfortably seated on his lap, Enzo asked incredulously, "What's going on? Is this how the game is now?" His voice carried a mixture of curiosity and uncertainty as he tried to process what he had just witnessed. She simply smiled gently, noticing his confusion. With a reassuring touch on his shoulder, she explained that this was not the game in its original form, but rather a fan-made modification to add a new layer of realism and complexity to the sims' interactions."Oh, so our reality is to just start hooking up out of nowhere?"

"It's not like you can keep those hands off me…" Enzo chuckled at his girlfriend's response. His laughter was a mix of relief and amusement as he settled comfortably in the chair, his hands automatically gently squeezing her waist, as if seeking closer contact to dispel the surprise. As his fingers lightly caressed her waist, Enzo felt comforted by her presence on his lap. "Apparently she's eating for two now… maybe we could try that out here too, right nena?"

[soulessjourney]

Ashes of Panem

Part 2

Paring: (young) Coriolanus x Reader

Word count: 2.2k

Summary: Coriolanus Snow and Y/N Ashcroft had trained together since their entry into the academy. However, when their names were drawn, they found themselves pitted against each other and twenty other children in these games. As Y/N became a symbol of rebellion akin to her great grandmother, who vanished shortly after Panem's liberation, the looming threats of war and the approaching games forced Coriolanus and Y/N to forge an alliance. Amidst these challenges, they had to learn to trust and support one another in order to break free from Coin's oppressive regime.

Warnings: Mentions of violence and death, a little bit suggestive (or I'm just delusional)

A/N: After reading "Leveling the Playing Field" by @runningfrom2am and gearing up to watch "The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes" for the second time, alongside binge-watching the entire Hunger Games series, I've found myself inspired to contribute to the delusoins I have about this man (within reasonable bounds).

Since the fall of the Capitol and the rebirth of Panem, things have taken a different turn. Many argue it was a necessary change, considering President Snow's detrimental governance of Panem. The rebellion spearheaded by a young girl named Katniss Everdeen led to his downfall, paving the way for President Coin to assume control. Coin introduced a chilling policy: the perpetual punishment of the children of Capitol officials, game makers, and peacemakers would annually participate in what she dubbed "The Capitol Games."

The name seemed ironic, given its stark resemblance to the Hunger Games, where a male and a female from each district fought for survival. However, the stark contrast lay in the fact that these children from the Capitol had grown up studying side by side, some even as friends or lovers. It was this dynamic that made these games all the more intriguing – friends turning against each other in a ruthless battle for survival.

Your knowledge about your great-grandmother was limited, as your mother voiced her distaste of her views and didn't wish to pass them to you. All you knew was her significant role in the rebellion, bearing the symbol of the Mockingjay. Your mother had cursed you the moment she married a child of a Capitol official, driven by her craving to rebel and show her stance agsinst her grandmother and what she fought for. New Panem seemed to reflect a haunting echo of the past, a cycle no one dared to acknowledge.

Snatching your book bag from the desk, you adjusted your skirt and slipped on the uniform jacket. "Y/N, it’s time to leave; you’re going to be late!" your mother's voice echoed. A woman driven by material desires had cursed her own daughter, never once expressing remorse. At times, you wondered if she was deliberate in her actions, perhaps aiming to make your father suffer, for you were his innocent child, bearing the consequences of his grandfather's misdeeds.

You never quite understood how your father managed to maintain the acceptance for the punishments that generations to come had to face, but in a realm where anything seemed plausible, you had long ceased questioning such matters. Stepping out of your room, you descended the stairs and paused at the dining room to plant a tender kiss on your father's cheek.

"I’ll be home late tonight; we have combat evaluation tomorrow, and I want to squeeze in more training beforehand," you whispered softly, gently squeezing his shoulder.

Your father harbored a disdain for how the Coin family structured the lives of the children in the Capitol. All of them were compelled to attend the Panem Training Academy, a calculated initiative aimed at grooming Capitol youths for the games, enhancing the spectacle of the impending fights. The academy produced skilled fighters who were well-versed in each other's combat techniques, adept at camouflage, and proficient in hunting, far surpassing the capabilities seen in the Hunger Games. It was a gruesome spectacle, yet simultaneously enthralling to witness individuals who had dedicated their lives to outmaneuvering one another.

Your father redirected your focus to him, patting your hand gently. "Remember, keep your guard up, Y/N/N. With that, you’re unstoppable," he advised tenderly, enveloping you in a tight embrace.

Standing in front of the academy, a quiet sigh escaped you as the imposing glass building loomed ahead. Someone fell into step beside you, offering a gentle pat on your shoulder. "Chin up, Y/N. It's just another day of regurgitating information we already know, all in preparation for the selections in a couple of weeks," remarked Coriolanus Snow, his red uniform contrasting sharply with his white hair.

With an audible scoff, you pushed forward, ignoring the taller male attempting to catch up. "It's too early to deal with you, Snow. Try again in a few years," you grumbled, ascending the steps. Though he wasn’t entirely off the mark, the truth stung. You had been fed the same information and skills since childhood, only to be thrust into a scenario where your survival instincts were the only currency. Admitting Snow's correctness would only inflate his already sizable ego.

"Someone's rather moody this morning. Could it be due to your combat evaluation tomorrow?" he inquired, clasping his hands behind his back as he walked alongside you into the building. "Y/N, seriously, you've got nothing to worry about. You're at the top of our class in combat; I don't see why you're so anxious." However, being at the top of your class was precisely why you were anxious. It meant having a colossal target on your back during evaluations.

Everyone else would work day and night, honing their skills just to topple you from your coveted position. You wouldn’t be surprised if someone attempted to kill you during the evaluations. Each year, someone would bend the rules, seeking to kill a contender prematurely, resulting in reprimands and reminders about the purpose of their presence here. Coin's lineage served as an constant reminder, as each year, her grandson would appear, delivering the same speech about the ideals of the new Panem and how everyone was there to atone for their family's misdeeds.

"What about you, Snow? Shouldn't you be concerned about tomorrow? I mean, you're ranked number five, poised to face Zephyra, who's just below me," you remarked as both of you made your way toward the lecture hall.

"I'm not overly concerned about her. However, I am worried that you'll get trapped in your own thoughts, as you tend to do, and end up sabotaging yourself," Coriolanus stated, his expression carrying a rare trace of concern. You shot him a perplexed look and moistened your lips. Coriolanus displaying concern for you was uncharted territory, indicating either a hidden agenda or an imminent catastrophe. Either way, his uncharacteristic kindness was a departure from the norm.

"What do you want Snow? Just get to the point and skip beating around the bush," you retorted, taking your seat and turning to face him as he settled beside you. His piercing blue eyes scrutinized your every move, almost as if he were testing the waters.

"Let's train together tonight. It could be mutually beneficial. I can assist you in learning how to defend against Jackson's attacks, and in return, you can help me improve my agility. They're wrapping up classes early today, giving us all time to prepare for tomorrow," Snow proposed an intriguing offer. His agility was lacking, hindering his ability to evade certain attacks or strike his opponents effectively. Meanwhile, you grappled with maintaining your guard and fending off Jackson's assaults. Jackson held the third position overall in your class for a reason.

"Fine, we can train together tonight, but this is solely for my benefit," you agreed, shifting your focus to the front as Professor Ellington entered the class.

Entering the training room, you glanced around before your gaze settled on Coriolanus, clad in a t-shirt and joggers. Despite your reluctance to admit it, he actually looked quite good in that attire. Part of you wondered how good he looked–shaking your head you rid any thoughts that threatened to invade your mind. This was the man you grew up despising; there was no way you'd be thinking of him in that way.

Moving forward, you took a seat on the bench beside him, releasing a sigh. "Took you long enough. I almost thought you were going to bail on me," he remarked, observing as you began taping your hands. Frankly, you contemplated it. The last time you sparred with him, he dominated the match. You barely scraped by with a victory when you decided to exploit his injured leg, a move he made sure to chastise you for over the following month.

"Ellington wanted to discuss the paper I wrote for our survival basics class. Something about me getting carried away with a whole paragraph detailing how I'd sleep up in a tree," you grumbled as you tore the tape with your teeth. In your opinion, the technique was crucial to discuss, considering its significance in survival scenarios within the games.

A snicker resonated from beside you, prompting a glare aimed in Coriolanus's direction. He responded with only a smile before rising and heading toward the ring. Your eyes tracked his every move, noting how he rolled his shoulders to loosen them and ran his fingers through his white locks before stepping onto the mat. Observing his broad shoulders, your gaze traced down his form.

"Y/N, I can't tell if you're checking me out or trying to find a weak point, but it's starting to weird me out a little," he remarked while moving around the ring and stretching his arms.

Standing abruptly, you cleared your throat and adjusted your attire, joining him in the ring for stretching while maintaining a peripheral watch on him. "I wasn't checking you out; you're not even worth a second glance," you grumbled, facing him. "I was merely assessing how long it'll take for me to kick your ass."

Coriolanus regarded you quietly before assuming a stance. Both of you raised your guards, circling the ring, awaiting the first move. It was your decision to act; you shifted and darted straight for him. Coriolanus attempted a hit toward your left shoulder, but you pivoted, dodging the jab and swiftly landing a kick on his back.

"When you face Zephyra, her agility matches mine. You need to learn to move with her, shifting your weight to protect your vulnerable areas, especially your back," you advised, circling back to face him as you continued moving around the ring.

"Why do you dislike me? I've never quite understood the grudge you hold against me. We've been stuck together for years, and not once have I ever screwed you over," he questioned, eyes darting toward your feet, trying to predict your actions. Seizing the moment he looked away, you ducked and landed a jab against his stomach.

A forced exhale escaped him, eliciting a smile on your lips. "Less talking, more blocking," you retorted, sweeping his feet from under him with a swift leg movement. As he lay on the ground, you offered your hand, but when he grabbed it, he swiftly pulled you into a choke hold.

Grunting, you tapped his arm, prompting him to release you with a sly smile. Stepping back, you massaged your shoulder before eyeing him on the ground. "I don't hate you; I just don't see the point in making friends destined to die," you explained, fixing your hair. "To me, you're nothing but competition."

After your exchange, silence reigned between the two of you, except for sharing minor pointers to enhance your fighting skills for the evaluation. By the time both of you called it a day, the sun had set. Seated on the mat, you unwrapped your hand, wincing at the emerging bruises on your knuckles. Coriolanus settled next to you, reclining against his hands.

"Despite what you might believe, Y/N, I do care about you. Sejanus and the others keep their distance because they're intimidated or frightened by you, but you're a clever fighter. Your dedication to learning survival tactics might just be what sets you apart," he confessed softly, his gaze fixed on you as you inspected your hands.

You lowered your gaze, feeling the weight of his words. "I avoid friendships because I don’t want to feel the pain of losing someone who meant something to me. We have to fight the people we care about because they want to punish us the way the districts were punished. I want to be your friend Snow, I really do, but I can't risk experiencing that loss," you admitted, a rare moment of vulnerability shared with him. "I'm bound to enter that arena because of the betrayal perceived by the Coin family after my mother married my father, especially given my great-grandmother's legacy," you added with a shrug.

It was an aspect you hadn't dwelled on much—the betrayal to your family name. Coriolanus gently grasped your chin with his thumb and forefinger, redirecting your gaze to meet his. "Don't isolate yourself because you fear loss. Sometimes, having someone who can protect you or simply offer a shoulder to lean on is better than navigating this world alone," he advised, his thumb tracing your jawline tenderly.

Nodding, you found yourself studying his captivating blue eyes, drawing you in every time. "I struggle with it at times. I've convinced myself that solitude is better, so I have justification for what will happen in that arena and it’ll be easier to do what I have to do to survive," you confessed, averting your eyes before clearing your throat and withdrawing from his touch. "Now, you should go. And don't think I don't know what you were attempting; I'm not kissing you, Snow," you grumbled, gathering your belongings.

Behind you, a boisterous laugh caught your attention, a sound unfamiliar coming from him. "I never mentioned anything about kissing, Y/N. It was just a gesture of comfort," he grinned, a sly smile appearing after crossing a boundary he knew he shouldn't have. "Sleep well, Snowflake. Can't wait to witness your performance tomorrow. But try not to dream of me," he called as you hastily left the room.

If there was one person you wanted to shove from a tree in that arena, it was Coriolanus Snow himself.

A/N: I would like to thank all of you for reading this, It does mean a lot as well versed in writing for Coryo, but I did want to give it a try and so far it has been fun. I do have a few of the next parts mapped out and I will try to release a writing schedule for the series to give you a rough estimate for when each part will be released.

For my ACOTAR readers: I am taking a break from updating for Azriel and Rhysand since I didn't have much insperation for thier parts and I just simply did not like what I was writing. I do promise to get to them soon but as of now, they are on hold until I can actually like what I am writing.

[epickiya722]

Hi Kiya, hope you are doing well.

What inspired you to come up with the concept and ideas for the Star's Rebirth AU?

I'm doing fine, thank you! I low-key having been neglecting my sleep but I'm now back on track!ദ്ദി ( ᵔ ᗜ ᵔ )

Oooh, I was asked a similar question before! But I'd like to talk about it again.

The first story, His Role, was just a story I wrote on a whim. I was going though an emotional period and needed to get my feelings together and distract myself. I started writing that story and somehow it became a 17K+ fic that begun a series of the idea of "what if Yuji was Tengen's vessel".

I also wanted to write more interactions between Kenjaku and Yuji and also try out the "Sukuna and Yuji are twins" concept.

Which before I really got into writing the AU was already a post I was working on, you can read that here.

After His Role, I actually didn't think I would turn it into a series. But I was a lot more invested than I thought!

While that fic was Yuji becoming Tengen's vessel, the following stories were exploring him and the others adjusting to the new changes.

His Mercy and Her Tears are both birthday fics! His Mercy is for Yuji's birthday. In that fic, I touch on some ideas I had in mind. The fic is like a story made up of smaller ones. The characters celebrate Yuji's 16th birthday and then other things happen, most of which are discussions between characters.

I knew I wanted to write a fic for Yuji's birthday, but I didn't have a clue as to what should happen in the fic.

Unlike the former, Her Tears is of an idea I had in mind for a long time and it wasn't until Nobara's birthday came around that I wrote it. It also doesn't take place on Nobara's birthday. Instead, it's more of Nobara reconnecting with some important people in her life while out one day.

His Mother, that takes place after His Mercy, and Her Weightlessness are both fics where I explore Kaori's character, the latter being a fic that explores Kaori's made-up backstory before the narrative of JJK took place.

In canon, the most we know very little of her and I decided to take a stab at conjuring an image of what she could have been like. I headcanon that Yuji would have gotten his personality from her.

If you asked me, I can see Yuji being a mama's boy. Like, he and Kaori have a good relationship and are like two peas in a pod. So similar in behavior that even though he looks like the men in his family, Yuji is like Kaori's mini-me.

Then there's His Following! That fic actually was going to a long one shot with His Mercy, however, I had a feeling I wasn't going to finish that version in time for Yuji's birthday. So I scrapped the idea and used it for what is His Following, a fic that should be multi-chaptered.

I had a thought one day about the possibility of Sukuna having a "fan club", like the Star Religious Group, in modern time and used that to develop the plot.

I also wanted to have my own JJK OC to write for. Asahi, I didn't have a last name for her until I thought "it would be funny if she was a Gojo". I had everything else in mind for her but that until then. (Feel free to ask more about her if you want, folks.)

While I love her, I'm not actually sure how everyone else feels about her. I don't think anyone has really said anything, but it's whatever.

Once I decided to make her a Gojo, I immediately opted to make her a sibling to Gojo. I often see sibling OCs for him. Instead, I made her a cousin of sorts to him and older. She's like that cool older cousin/aunt.

There's also The Pink Sky and Cherry Blossoms.

That fic actually wasn't a part of the AU until I decided to add Uro to the AU. The fic explores her, how she feels. I really enjoys Uro in the manga and just felt it was only right to write a fic for her and where she interacts with my other pink haired fave, Yuji.

It was definitely a challenge to write that fic, it was. But sometimes I like to challenge myself.

And that's all I have to say for the AU!!

Overall, the AU was just another one of my "what crazy idea Kiya will cook up this time" moments.

I'm surprised people have read the fics, too. I thought people wouldn't have taken to them, but I had a pleasant surprise there!

Fic Backstory Ask

[xploded-tb]

[23/11/23] #BaiYu - BE PRESENT 专注在当下 | Translated Interview with SoFigaro Magazine

The following thread is a full translation of the 2023 November issue of SoFigaro. (First posted to Twitter here.)

Bai Yu is fond of taking photos of things that grow upwards.

During his photoshoot breaks, he would snap some photos of trees standing tall and swaying gently in the autumn wind, and some reeds in the distance.

The top of the pine trees in the cold November rain, the city walls that extend upwards, and the ancient corner towers that pierce into the sky…

These are things he likes to take photos of.

Perhaps all these have one thing in common.

Over time, they may seem to be standing tall and still, but in reality, they have been quietly absorbing and silently expressing themselves.

Parallel World

Following the conclusion of the Parallel World episodes, Bai Yu bid Chang Dong goodbye with a group of photos.

During the interview, he explained, "These are the yardangs we encountered along the way. This is an abandoned village, and this is where Chang Dong encountered an incident…" Although filming is complete, precious memories of this story are all carved into Bai Yu's mind.

Since ancient times, the Yumen Pass has always been an important landmark to the poets. It is an important frontier pass established along the Hexi Corridor during the Han dynasty. And today, it has become a heritage site.

To protect the area, most of the filming took place in the vast and endless Dunhuang desert. 'In boundless desert lonely smokes rise straight; over endless river the sun sinks round' (1)… The scenery described in the poem was right before his eyes. It was gorgeous, but they also had to tackle challenges brought on by the harsh environment.

Bai Yu recalled...

"We shot during June, so the winds were strong and it was the sunniest period. It was hard to illuminate the area at night in the desert, so a lot of scenes were shot day for night. Shooting under the scorching sun and in fierce winds did have some impact on performance."

One night, the giant tent the staff had set up securely was blown away by the wind. "The tent was huge, with really thick poles and sturdy ropes holding it down. Who knew that the next day it'd be missing, completely blown away by the wind!"

When time allowed, Bai Yu would drive his car to and from work, driving back to where he'd rest after the crew wrapped filming. "Nobody was around where we filmed, so knocking off and driving a jeep in this vast land felt great."

Whenever Bai Yu wraps up filming for a drama, he gives himself an extended break. Recently, he returned home to Xi'an and recharged with a bowl of hot oil noodles (2). Going back home is something Bai Yu often looks forward to the most after completing a project. After all, fully immersing oneself in a role is a significant test on an actor's physical and mental well-being. "Only when I'm back home can I unload and relax."

This year, Bai Yu also visited Wubu County, where he was born.

"I was born in a yaodong (3) that my parents built themselves, and it still stands today." Beside their yaodong are aging neighbors who could still recognize Bai Yu as that mischievous boy in their memories.

Some feel that the characters that Bai Yu has portrayed in the recent years carry this underlying theme of 'endurance.' We wondered if he felt 'bottled up' portraying such characters for some time.

Smiling, he replied, "A little, but you have to do something about it. So you need to rest properly to adjust." But every time he comes across a good script, he'd still be moved by the very authentic and rich characters.

.

.

.

After all, life isn't a feel-good drama. Struggles and compromises with things that turn out contrary to our wants are part and parcel of life.

Bai Yu had this to say…

"I used to be captivated by exciting stories, but now it's more the details that draw me in. These details should be used to portray a character instead of their embellished aspects. It's these details that let me get deeper into the character."

To Bai Yu now, there are no differences between 'important' and 'regular' scenes. People may enjoy discussing an actor's skill and portrayal of intense emotions in an important scene, but Bai Yu feels that shouldn't be all that makes a character.

"There are too many details happening all the time. It's like when I filmed 'The Long Night'; Jiang Yang is a character defined by many details."

The Long Night

Without a doubt, bringing up Bai Yu makes people immediately recall 'The Long Night.' Hearing this, he only laughed and said, "Then I have to reflect on myself. I don't have another work that makes people think of me this way. I have to keep working hard."

A lot of people say this is the work that successfully transformed him. To this, he responded, "These labels are given by others. I was never concerned with 'transformation' since that's what others define you. At the end of the day, it's about the performance and character, about what I like and what I feel fits me."

Before our interview, we came across something Bai Yu once said. He said that Jiang Yang was the first character that he just wanted to portray no matter what. Often, he would reflect on Jiang Yang afterward, and still felt dazed. It wasn't until the day 'The Long Night' premiered, a rainy day where he walked for a long time, that the weight in his mind finally lifted.

In a flash, the year is ending. We asked Bai Yu how he would sum this year up. He thought for a little while and said, "Never thought about it. I used to think time passes really quickly, so I took a long break this year. When I did, I thought time passed really slowly."

For a period of time, his tight schedule made him stop in his tracks to take the time to rest. To many actors, resting could mean missing opportunities.

"Of course, you could miss out on a good opportunity, a good script. But you need to first understand yourself. Can you do a good job if what you truly need is a good rest? If you encounter a good script that captivates you, that's great. But can you mentally tackle the task? Life is about making choices and sacrifices."

As the saying goes, one must take a step back in order to leap better. To Bai Yu, he has never stopped in his path as an actor, but only rested to make sure he has the energy to meet his next challenge.

Occasionally, the passing of time brings about certain thoughts. "A few days ago, I told my dad that I feel like I'm almost forty. He almost burst out laughing, saying, 'You're just in your early thirties!'" Bai Yu expressed that he felt this way because there are many things he still wants to do. Time has its own rhythm, whether fast or slow, but it shouldn't be a worry.

Summing things up, he said, "You set your rhythm. Don't be too bothered about how fast or slow time is going, just stay focused on the present. Live honestly and respect your own thoughts, no matter what it is you want to do. Just go ahead and pursue it!"

/END

TL notes: (1) From Wang Wei's "On Mission to the Frontier" (王维 《使至塞上》) (2) Hot oil noodles = you po mian (3) Yaodong = earth shelter

Mag link here Mag in text format here compiled by Sweetheart_白宇甜心

BUY THE MAG HERE (can be accessed via PC)! If you need help with purchase, let me know and I'll try to help.

[yurayura-kurage]

A3! Troupe Event: MY WORST WEDDING | Event Story Translation (1/11)

Neither Japanese nor English is my first language so please forgive me if I made mistake. However, feel free to point me out, I’d love to hear your feedbacks on the translation ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶

Translation under the cut

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Azami: “She is my fated partner. I was sitting next to her at the cafe, and ever since our eyes met, I knew it was what was called love at first sight.”

Izumi: (Following what we did before with Spring and Summer Troupe, the rookie Azami-kun will be the lead of Autumn Troupe’s 10th performance, Sakyo-san will be the co-lead.)

(This time, Tsuzuru-kun also came up with the script according to the lead - Azami-kun’s request but…)

Azami: “Hello? Sorry, I didn’t intend to disturb you today but… I have something needed confirming about the arrangements for tomorrow’s wedding.”

Izumi: (Indeed, I didn’t expect Taichi-kun to play a female role again in Autumn Troupe’s performance.)

Sakyo: I can still sense Noah in her nuance.

Azami: She sounds manlike.

Taichi: It’s hard to switch into a different role in an instant~!

Izumi: Well, in some ways, this role is even harder than the lead role…

(This time, Taichi-kun will play both Noah - a friend of the groom Ethan played by Azami-kun, and the marriage swindler Olivia who deceives the groom…)

(This is our troupe's very first dual role. In order to fulfill Azami-kun's request of including a role that he can put tons of makeup on, things have become like this.)

(Since we did the special makeup during the Undead performance, this time the makeup will be focused on woman, and what’s more is a bad woman who looks good with heavy makeup but...)

Taichi: This is my first time challenging to change into another role this quick so I'm really nervous!

Banri: If needed I can take on your role instead.

Taichi: Uhm... Now that I've self-run for this role, I'll do something about it...!

Juza: It's an unprecedented challenge, I think it will no doubt be a valuable experience.

Omi: He has definitely become more reliable since Zero so if it's Taichi, it'll be okay.

Taichi: Thanks y'all! I'll do my best to make A-chan fall in love at first glance!

Azami: Well... Good luck.

Sakyo: Bon too, you're the one to talk. In the scene where Ethan talks about Olivia as usual, I can't feel the yearning love for his beloved fiancée Olivia.

Azami: Not really... That scene is good. I'm gonna be betrayed in marriage fraud after all.

Sakyo: That’s why it is unnecessary. The play won’t be convincing unless the audience can understand you’re so blindly in love that you’re being scammed.

Azami: —No matter what you say ‘bout l-love, I just don’t get it—.

Izumi: (For Azami-kun who is not good at talking about love, playing a role who is obsessed with his fiancée might be indeed difficult.)

(At first we had a discussion about the wedding theme for this play, but Azami-kun said love stories were impossible for him, so we changed to the marriage fraud.)

(Although the main focus of this play is the action battle with a criminal organization that has the marriage swindler in, Ethan’s feelings are also important…)

(Compared to that, James - another groom who is also deceived by Olivia, played by Sakyo-san, is perfect. Maybe that’s the difference in life experience.)

Banri: Well, isn’t it impossible for Azami to fall for Olivia now? He’s Taichi no matter how you look at.

Taichi: With A-chan’s makeup after this, I’m gonna turn into a really beautiful villainess as planned~!

Banri: Come to think of it, I had thought of how the quick change would be done, but that’s surely a problem.

Izumi: In the last part, Taichi-kun will be changing from Noah to Olivia, right.

Banri: We have consulted with Tsuzuru about some script adjustments but still can’t carve out time for Azami to directly do the makeup for Taichi.

Omi: Ethan and James also have to change their costumes quickly…

Juza: Noah can’t come out with Olivia’s makeup from the beginning…

Azami: Then, going with the makeup plan I’ve come up with, Taichi-san will have no choice but to do the makeup on his own.

Izumi: Is that okay? Since you wanted to do lots of makeup in this performance.

Azami: Coming up with the makeup plan is also fun, so it’s okay. Instead, I’m gonna go with Spartan mode to train Taichi-san so that he can redo the makeup perfectly.

Taichi: That’s def out of question~! It’s already up to my neck just quick changing between two roles though, I’m not confident that I can do the makeup on my own!

Izumi: Right, it seems like you would be overwhelmed a bit.

Banri: I’ll go back to the wing at the same time as Taichi, so I’ll lend you a hand with the makeup and quick-change.

Taichi: Banchan~! You saved me!

Sakyo: If that’s the dexterous Settsu then there seems to be no problem.

Azami: I’m enthusiastic about the makeup this time, so Banri-san too, please keep that in mind.

Banri: Go easy on me.

Izumi: Azami-kun, how is the hair makeup plan going?

Azami: I’m thinking about various hair arrangements for each character, including Olivia’s wig.

This time performance is set in America, but I’m worried since it might be difficult for the audience to get a grasp on the worldview if I have my hair black as the main character.

Taichi: If that’s the case, how about you dye your hair blonde like Sakyo-nii?

Juza: It’s gonna match with Sakyo-san.

Omi: It might look good when you two line up.

Banri: It’s a relationship that they’re gonna fight over Olivia, isn’t that good to have a sense of rivalry between them.

Azami: I definitely don’t want to match with that person.

Sakyo: Ha… If so, what color are you going to choose?

Azami: There are bunch of wigs from the past performances in the warehouse, so I’ll have a look.

Izumi: Got it. Then let me know when you decide.

*Short time skip*

Izumi: Well then, that’s all for today’s practice. Tomorrow will be a day off, so take a good rest you guys.

Omi: Taichi and Juza are going back to their homes, right?

Juza: Yes. My mom’s birthday is getting near.

Taichi: For me, my sister asked me to hang out with her once in a while.

Sakyo: I’ll be going back to my home tomorrow too, so I’ll be away from the dorm.

Izumi: Sakyo-san too?

Juza: It’s been a while.

Sakyo: It will be bothersome if I don’t go home once in a while.

Juza: …That’s good. The old lady will be happy, too.

Sakyo: …

Bon, you should show your face at home more. You haven’t been home lately, have you.

Azami: Annoying—

…Well, I want to see everyone at Ginsenkai though, I think it’s time to go back home.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Next

[whoawardwinchester]

A Winchester Chronicle

Please consider liking, commenting, and reblogging. It fuels the creativity and lets me know you're enjoying my hard work.

Summary: You arrive at the audition for the role of Raven, your first acting job ever, feeling a mix of nerves and determination, reflecting on the loss of your husband and children in a car accident a year ago. Your performance impresses the casting directors, including Jared, Jensen, and Misha, leading to additional chemistry readings where you grow more confident. Jensen surprises you with a final, impromptu test that involves an unexpected kiss, solidifying your connection. Officially offered the part, you leave with a sense of hope and excitement for this new chapter, despite your lingering grief and medical challenges.

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Reader

Content Warning: (subject to change per chapter as this series is written) This chapter includes references to grief, loss of loved ones (spouse and children), medical conditions (PCOS and endometriosis), mild language, and a kissing scene. Please proceed with caution if these themes may be triggering.

Rating: 18+ for the whole series.

This is a work of fiction. There is no hate for anyone in real life.

If you want to be added to the tag list for this series, just let me know! Also be sure to tell me how I'm doing or request anything related to Jensen/Dean!

Masterlist

Season 4 (each season will have about 22-23 chapters, except S4 only because I have to set the storyline into motion. Otherwise, it will follow the episodes of Supernatural, with adjustments as needed.) :)

Chapter 1: A New Beginning

You woke to the muted light filtering through your bedroom curtains, casting soft shadows on the walls adorned with framed photographs of happier times. You stretched, movements slow and deliberate, as if testing the weight of the day ahead. The morning air held a chill that clung to your skin, a stark contrast to the warmth you once knew.

In the corner of the room, a small desk cluttered with scripts and audition notes stood as a testament to your newfound pursuit. You had always been drawn to the arts, finding solace in the rhythm of words and the emotion they could evoke. Yet, it was here, in the aftermath of loss, that you sought a fresh start.

You padded across the creaky wooden floorboards in your favorite pair of well-worn Converse, the soles barely making a sound. Your attire was casual, comfortable: yoga pants adorned with intricate New Age symbols and a loose-fitting T-shirt that you had acquired from a thrift store, its faded logo a testament to its previous life. A gold nose ring gleamed faintly in the morning light as you brushed a strand of long, layered, wavy auburn hair behind your ear, your blue eyes scanning the room with determination.

At just five foot three inches tall, you possessed a curvaceous figure that spoke of strength and resilience, qualities you hoped to channel into your upcoming audition. Your mornings had become a ritual of preparation and anticipation. Today was no different. Today, you had an audition—a chance to breathe life into a character named Raven, a role that whispered of mystery and strength.

The path that led you here had been winding and unpredictable. Once, you had been a stay-at-home mom to three lively children -days filled with laughter and chaos, evenings with bedtime stories and lullabies. But life had a way of shifting beneath your feet, leaving you adrift in a sea of uncertainty after a tragic car accident had taken not only your husband, but all of your children, too. In the quiet moments, when grief threatened to overwhelm you, you clung to the hope that this audition would fill the void, give you a purpose beyond the emptiness that echoed in your heart.

As you reached for the script on your cluttered desk, your fingers brushed over a delicate tattoo on your wrist—a small, elegant design that you had inked as a reminder of the love you had lost and the strength you had found in its wake. You took a deep breath, steadying yourself for the day ahead, your mind racing with lines of dialogue and the anticipation of stepping into Raven's shoes.

Today, you were not just preparing for an audition; you were reclaiming a part of yourself that had been buried beneath sorrow and doubt. With each page turned and each word spoken, you hoped to breathe life into Raven, to find solace in storytelling, and to discover a new beginning in the world of acting.

As you gathered your script and headed out the door, your thoughts lingered on the possibility of forging new connections in this unfamiliar world. In the casting rooms and on set, you hoped to find companions who could share in your journey—new friends who might become as close as family, offering support and laughter along the way.

You arrive at the audition with just 4 minutes to spare, thanks to traffic. Adjusting your hair in the mirror one last time, you take a deep breath to steady your nerves. Standing outside the casting room door, you clutch your script to your chest. The hallway buzzes with other hopeful actors murmuring lines under their breath. A stage assistant calls your name, and you step forward, heart pounding.

Inside, the casting directors sit behind a long table, scrutinizing your every move. You take your mark, trying to ignore the bright lights and the camera lens that seem to magnify every imperfection.

"Whenever you're ready," one of the directors says with a reassuring smile. It isn't until he speaks that you notice Jared and Jensen, along with another man you don't recognize, also watching you. That isn't nerve-wracking at all.

You nod, clearing your throat, and launch into your prepared lines. You stumble at first, the words catching in your throat as nerves threaten to overwhelm you. Closing your eyes briefly, you mentally push away the doubts. Remembering your months of preparation, you steady yourself and begin again, this time with more conviction.

As you deliver your lines, you focus on the character's emotions, channeling your own experiences into the performance. Your voice grows stronger with each sentence, and you feel a flicker of hope as the casting directors lean forward, nodding appreciatively.

After what feels like an eternity, the scene ends. You stand there, heart racing, waiting for feedback. The directors exchange a few murmurs before one of them speaks up.

"Thank you, Y/N. That was great. We'll be in touch about callbacks."

You nodded, feeling a rush of relief mixed with lingering nerves. You thanked them and walked out of the room, replaying every moment of the audition in your mind. You couldn't help but wonder if they noticed the slight tremble in your hands or the flicker of doubt in your eyes.

Your mind buzzed with the intensity of the performance as you reached your car. Exhaling slowly, you tried to shake off the nerves that had built up over the past hour. Glancing at your watch as you unlocked the car, time seemed to slow down in those tense moments.

Suddenly, footsteps approached from behind. Turning, You saw Jared walking briskly towards you, his expression friendly yet unreadable. Your heart skipped a beat. Was he about to deliver the news—whether you had made the cut or not?

"Hey, Y/N!" Jared's voice cut through the noise of the parking garage.

You managed a smile, trying to hide Your nerves. "Hey."

Jared grinned, kindness reflecting in his eyes. "We wanted to ask you to come back in for a moment. We have a few more things we want to discuss."

You blinked, your pulse quickening. "Oh, sure. I'll just—I'll be right there." You followed him back towards the audition room, your mind racing with possibilities.

As you both entered the room, you found yourself facing the casting directors once again, who looked up with mild surprise. Jared and Jensen exchanged a knowing glance before Jensen spoke up.

"We just wanted to say, Y/N, that we loved what you brought to the character today," Jensen began, his voice sincere. "You really stood out, and we think you could be perfect for this role."

Your heart leaped with hope, breath catching in your throat. It was hard to believe what you were hearing—after all the hard work and nerves, it seemed like your dream might actually be within reach.

Jared chimed in, his smile warm. "We're looking forward to seeing more of what you can do. Are you up for that?"

You nodded, eyes shining with gratitude and excitement. "Absolutely. Thank you so much for this opportunity."

The casting directors nodded in agreement, clearly impressed by the support from Jensen and Jared. "Alright, then. Let's run some chemistry scripts with Jared. Then we'll make our way to Jensen, and Misha after," one of the directors said, pointing to the papers on the desks.

You picked one up and read your lines with Jared. He was a natural, and his kindness made the process easy.

"That was great, you two," the director noted, making a mark on his script for the writers. "I don't think Raven is Sam's love interest right now, but as friends, it's perfect for the start of Season 4."

The writer, scanning her notes, chimed in, "Yes. Do you want to try Misha before Jensen?"

The director considered her suggestion. "I think that would be best. Misha, Jared, swap places please," he instructed, glancing at Misha in a scolding manner. "Misha, read your lines this time."

"Let's see how mad I can make them this time," Misha whispered to you as he took Jared's place.

You giggled, imagining the fun Misha, Jared, and Jensen had on set. "This will be my first season, too," Misha added as you both started your script reading together.

Misha finished with a dramatic flourish that made you laugh out loud. "Your laugh is the sweetest I've heard all day!" a producer exclaimed, taken aback. Your grandmother had once described your voice as 'sparrow-like,' often the center of compliments.

"Thank you, Misha! I don't think we need to do a chemistry reading with Jensen, unless… Jens - what do you think?" the producer continued.

Jensen had been very contemplative while he watched both of the previous readings, his expressions hard to read. "Yep. Let's do this," he finally responded after a few more long seconds of pondering.

Jensen helped Misha off the floor, "Dude, you've got to chill out," he joked. "Never," Misha responded, making his way back to the tables.

As Jensen passed by you, a whiff of his cologne caught your attention. It was warm and inviting, though not to say that Jared or Misha smelled bad—they just didn't draw your senses like Jensen did. His scent reminded you of a cabin on a rainy fall day, a surprising association that distracted you from realizing the chemistry reading had already begun.

"This is where you say 'DEAN WINCHESTER…'" Jensen motioned for you to deliver your line. "I'm so sorry. May we start again?" you asked, feeling shy and noticing your warm cheeks betraying your embarrassment. "Yeah, we can," Jensen replied. "Ready?" you asked nervously. "Have been all day," he smirked.

As you neared the end of the reading, you and Jensen reached a part where Raven and Dean were supposed to kiss passionately. Jensen suddenly stopped. "I believe we've captured the chemistry between Raven and Dean. The rest isn't necessary today," he announced, glancing at the panel, who seemed on the edge of their seats. "I don't think we saw enough," Jared joked, nudging Misha lightly. "I concur, Jared. Dean and Raven sitting in a tree… K-I-S-…" Jensen cut him off with a growl as his watch rang with a woman's name displayed.

"You're all free to go. Y/N, I'm pleased to welcome you to the Supernatural family. Congratulations!" the director said. Everyone shook your hand and wished you well on their way out, except Jensen, who was still on a heated call.

"No, I told you I was working late today. We had a new role to fill, and it was crucial that I was here for it," you overheard Jensen say. "I didn't think it was appropriate for us to be working together every day for the next God-knows-how-long," he added.

Realizing this was not a conversation you needed to witness, you quietly started making your way out.

"No, hang on…" "Y/N, wait just a sec." You nodded at him. "Yes, that's her name… Why would her name matter? … Ok. I'll talk to you later. Bye." Jensen hung up.

"Thanks for waiting. I have your schedule here. I specifically asked to give it to you so I could walk you out," he said, gathering his things and handing you a stack of papers. "Of course, if you lose these, you should have them in your email, so don't worry if you do." He pushed the door open and held it for you. "Great. Thank you," you said, scanning over the text.

The walk was silent for a few minutes. You frantically thought of something, anything to say, but all that filled your mind was how rugged he looked from the side. He caught you glancing at him. "What's up?" he asked, smiling.

"I… Uh… Was just thinking about your cologne. It smells familiar," you lied, mentally chastising yourself. What the hell were you thinking?

"Oh, it's Mountain Man by Dior, I think. Or is it Ralph Lauren? It's one of those two," Jensen chuckled.

"It's lovely," you let slip, feeling sheepish. Seriously, Y/N? Lovely? You were a fool, and you knew you'd be ruminating on this later.

"Thanks. Is this your car?" We were the last ones in the parking garage. You glanced at your watch; your audition was at 2, and it was already 11:30. Your stomach growled.

"Yeah, it is. Man, how did time fly so fast?" you said, unlocking your trunk to stow away your belongings.

"Yeah, today flew by," Jensen agreed. "Go grab some grub. There's a diner about three blocks from here that's open all night. Super handy for days like this," he said, turning as if to find his own car.

"Perfect. I appreciate you walking me out," you said, holding out your hand. "It was great to meet you," you beamed.

He shook your hand. "Likewise. See you in two weeks," he said, turning towards his car as you got into yours. Rolling down the window, you turned the radio up a little, taking a moment to sigh and process the day, leaning back into your seat. "Oh. My. God!" you whispered excitedly.

"Hey, one last thing…" Jensen appeared at your window. "AHHHH!" you screamed, heart thudding wildly in your chest.

He opened the door and took your hand to help you out. "I'm so sorry," he laughed as you clutched your chest, breathing through the scare. "I… I was just practicing, you know," you said jokingly to hide your embarrassment. "What's up?" you added.

"I know it's been a long day, and we've already done our reading together, but I figured if you had any questions you could text or call me. I also just need to see something," he said, stepping closer to you as he handed you his number. "Oh, Thank you. Let me just grab the scripts…" you began, turning towards the trunk.

He took your hand and gently pulled you closer, your face at chest level. Looking up, you saw his bright green eyes, intensified under the garage lights. "I don't know what…" you started.

"I just NEED to see… something," he interrupted softly, leaning towards you.

His lips met yours as he cupped your face in his hands, gently pinning you against the car. You moaned involuntarily. His lips were soft and tender as he pulled away, leaving you in shock. Clearing your throat, you managed, "I… um… hm," looking at the ground and shaking your head lightly.

"I didn't think it was necessary to see if we had physical chemistry in front of everyone. They'll see enough when we film through the seasons," he said, stepping back.

"Right. Thank you. That would have been… nerve-wracking," you said, sweeping some hair behind your ear. "Well? Feel the chemistry?" you joked nervously.

"I certainly felt something," he smoldered, turning away and waving. "Good night. Again!"

You watched him walk around the garage corner, finally comprehending what had just happened. It certainly didn't feel like just a chemistry reading, but you couldn't afford to think like that. You needed to stay professional. It had only been a year since your husband passed, and you still cried often about his absence. Guilt rose in your gut.

"Just get home, Y/N," you said to yourself, climbing in, saving his number in your phone, buckling up, and backing out. "Get home and breathe."

______

As Jensen navigated the familiar Vancouver streets, the soft glow of streetlights cast fleeting shadows across his face. His phone, propped up on the dashboard, displayed the faces of Jared and Misha on a group video call. The signal occasionally weakened, causing their images to pixelate.

“Jens, spill the beans,” Jared grinned widely. “What did you think of Y/N today?”

Jensen paused, thoughtful. “She was… impressive.”

Misha, in mock seriousness, chimed in, “Impressive? Come on, give us the juicy details. Did you kiss her after we left?”

Rolling his eyes with a small smirk, Jensen replied, “No, Misha. It was a chemistry test. You know how it goes.”

“But seriously, dude,” Jared leaned closer to the screen. “She seems like she'll be a great addition to the cast.”

Jensen nodded. “Yeah, she does.”

“Ah, so she's officially a part of the family now. Welcome aboard, Y/N,” Misha grinned.

“Yeah, welcome aboard,” Jensen echoed, a genuine smile on his face.

Misha couldn’t resist teasing. “So, when's the first scene together? I'm looking forward to seeing some epic on-screen chemistry.”

“We'll see how it goes,” Jensen chuckled.

Jared’s curiosity peaked. “Speaking of chemistry, how's Dee taking it? Is she excited?”

Jensen hesitated, a flicker of discomfort crossing his face. “She… wasn't thrilled.”

“Oh, jealous, is she?” Misha raised an eyebrow in seriousness.

“She wanted the part. Thought it would be a good fit,” Jensen sighed.

Jared’s voice was sympathetic. “It's tough when expectations don't match reality.”

“Yeah,” Jensen nodded, a hint of sadness in his eyes.

The conversation shifted back to lighter topics, with Jared and Misha sharing stories about their own auditions and the day’s events. But in the back of Jensen’s mind, thoughts of Y/N lingered. He couldn’t deny the connection he felt during their audition and wondered how their dynamic would evolve on set.

As he turned onto his street, Jared and Misha got off the phone buzzed with a text from Y/N, thanking him for his support and expressing her excitement to join the cast. He smiled, typing a quick reply before pulling into his driveway.

Just as he was about to open the front door, it swung open. Dee stood there, arms crossed, a tense expression on her face.

“How was your day?” she asked, though her tone suggested she already knew the answer.

Jensen forced a smile. “It was good. Y/N got the part.”

Dee’s eyes narrowed slightly. “So I heard. Everyone’s talking about how great she was.”

“Yeah, she really was,” Jensen replied, keeping his tone neutral.

Dee sighed, clearly frustrated. “I just don't understand why I wasn't right for it.”

“Dee, you’re a great actress, but they were looking for something specific. Y/N just happened to fit that.”

“Or maybe it’s because she’s the new shiny toy,” Dee muttered under her breath.

“Come on, don’t be like that,” Jensen said softly, reaching out to her.

Dee pulled away, her expression hardening. “I just hope this doesn’t change things between us.”

“It won’t,” Jensen assured her. “She’s a colleague, that’s all.”

“Yeah, well, we’ll see,” Dee said, turning away. “I’m going to bed.”

Jensen watched her go, a knot of worry forming in his stomach. He couldn’t shake the feeling that this was just the beginning of a much larger conflict. With a heavy sigh, he headed upstairs, hoping tomorrow would bring some clarity.

_____

You sit on the edge of your bed hastily scarfing down a cheesesteak from the diner Jensen mentioned, the glow of your bedside lamp casting a warm light over your open script. You glance at the lines you have been practicing for weeks, feeling a mix of excitement and anxiety. The day had been a whirlwind, from the nerve-wracking audition to the unexpected chemistry reading with Jensen, and finally being told you got the part.

Your heart swells with joy as you replay the moment the casting director said, "Welcome to the Supernatural family." This role is more than just a job; it’s a lifeline, a chance to reclaim a part of yourself you thought you'd lost.

But as the adrenaline fades, the familiar ache in your lower abdomen returns, a reminder of your ongoing battle with PCOS and endometriosis. You press a hand to your stomach, closing your eyes briefly to push through the discomfort. This is not the time to let your condition get the better of you.

A tear slips down your cheek as your thoughts turn inward again. You reflect on the last year—losing your husband and children in that devastating car accident. The grief had been overwhelming, leaving you feeling adrift, your identity swallowed by the roles of wife and mother that you no longer played.

But now, this role, this chance to play Raven, feels like a new beginning. It’s an opportunity to step into the spotlight and rediscover yourself. It won’t be easy. The long hours, the physical demands, and the inevitable moments of self-doubt will test you. But you are ready.

You think back to the audition, the look in Jensen’s eyes when he had watched you perform. There was a connection there, a spark that made you believe you could truly bring Raven to life. And even though you sensed some underlying tension, perhaps from Jensen’s personal life, you felt confident you could create something incredible together on screen.

You take a deep breath, your determination solidifying. You are ready to face whatever challenges come your way, both on and off the set. You have your own dreams to pursue, and now, a new family in the Supernatural cast to join.

You pick up your phone, scrolling through your emails until you find the one from the casting team with your schedule and initial scripts. As you read through it, you feel a renewed sense of purpose. You are doing this for yourself, for the memory of your husband and children, and for the part of you that has longed to be more than just a grieving widow.

Closing your eyes, you send a silent prayer of thanks. This is your chance to shine, to show the world—and yourself—that you are capable of great things. You won’t let your medical conditions, your past, or your fears hold you back. This is your time.

With one last glance at your script, you take some pain relievers, turn off the lamp and lay down, the excitement of the day slowly giving way to a peaceful determination. Tomorrow, you will begin this new chapter of your life, ready to face whatever comes your way. And with that thought, you drift into a deep, restful sleep, your dreams filled with the promise of what is to come.

[gemsofgreece]

Η ΦΟΝΙΣΣΑ (The Murderess): A film review

My cinecritic side greets you again! This time I watched The Murderess, (only!) half a year after its release. I had to watch this one because it is based on my favourite Greek book, written by Alexandros Papadiamantis, which is also one of the most acclaimed Greek stories.

I knew that the movie would be underwhelming compared to the book because there was not any chance a movie could match it. Therefore it was unsurprising that I had this watered down response to it. It is a good movie, it has several merits. If you have read the book however, you tend to focus on the drawbacks and those are very prominent.

My biggest issue was the understandable choice to make adjustments to the story, in order to fill it some more, because the original is a short story. Reasonable, yet the adjustments made were in my opinion poorly thought out for several reasons.

PROS:

The cinematography is amazing. I also liked the camera work. Congratulations to Eva Nathena, very neat job. Very haunting atmosphere, great scenery chosen. We need more creative direction in Greek movies, so this was refreshing. However, I have some criticism about it too, below.

The elements of the folk culture and the architecture were beautiful and very interesting. The movie in general is stylized (in an appropiate way) and I have no problem with this at all. Nathena's first profession is actually costume designer, so her attention to detail makes total sense.

The score is imposing and appropriately used.

Karabeti has the leading role. Obviously, the acting is great. I will say that I had imagined Frankogiannou different in my mind, even less refined or, idk less agile?, but that doesn't mean her approach is not valid.

Okay this is silly but it was a long time since I read the book and that moment when Frankogiannou says to her daughter "Σα σ' ακούω, θυγατέρα", a reference to her favourite catchphrase, it brought back the memory I had forgotten and I nearly cheered!

I did not like the liberties taken in the screenplay but I LOVED Maria Protopappa as Frankogiannou's mother. This character does not exist in the book but I don't care, she was amazing. Honestly she doesn't do all that much but her presence, so DORIC so STERN so SCARY. A perfect portayal of an abusive, misogynistic mother. I don't know, she was chilling, unpopular opinion but somehow I liked her more than Karabeti. Of course I acknowledge Karabeti's part was a lot harder.

Protopappa as Frankogiannou's mother, facing the camera.

CONS:

I already praised the cinematography, right? Yes, it was good but I would appreciate it more if the story actually took place in Mani! The story however takes place in Skiathos, not Mani! Whereas the choice to film such a dark story in an ominous place like Mani seems fitting, the true challenge would be to bring it to life in a happy looking place like Skiathos, where it is supposed to have happened after all. In short, the scenery fits the story but it was also a cheap trick to avoid making the direction more challenging. If foreign followers read this, Nathena in short said "I have a very dark movie to direct so I'll shoot it in this place

so I will avoid filming it in its original place which looks like this:"

I mean, the scenery looked awesome but you get what I mean? Moreover, my point is that she removed a lot of the realism from the movie - the scenery looks so gloomy, the people are so pensive, it kind of creates a type of dystopia where the Murderess's tale is just another part of it and not a shocking outlier.

[this paragraph contains spoilers]Which brings me to the second point. For anyone who doesn't know, the Murderess was written in 1903 by Alexandros Papadiamantis, a man, and it is one of the very first feminist literary works quite possibly on an international level. The way the inequality against women is portrayed in the book is so... novel and unique and genius and groundbreaking for its time and even for today, that I loathed to see it getting a coating of the standard contemporary mass feminist perspective. Because on its own, it was in my opinion far more successful and piercing. There are a lot of changes made in the film. Essentially, all men are depicted as straight out monsters and the only man who was probably not a monster, the priest, is blind. Get it? As in, blind to the evilness. That level of symbolism, come on, guys. Too much. Furthermore, the movie makes the whole community of the town in some way or another complicit to what is happening. That was horrible in my opinion. Instead of showing how inequality and hardship created an outlier whose mind got in a really bad place, like Papadiamantis did, the movie just creates a whole society of horror, where most everyone is a criminal. What is this, the Lord of the Flies? Men are viewed as problematic in Papadiamantis' book as well but in a more realistic way, some being absent, some being indifferent husbands, some being lazy, some rejoicing in their gender privilege and living expecting everything from women. But in the movie ALL of them are !Spoiler! kin rapists and kin killers??????The fuck?????? Live your myth in Greece, I suppose. [SPOILER] The incident of female infant killing by poor people who had no money to raise and provide a dowry for their daughters was indeed a phenomenon in Greece and elsewhere before the abolition of this custom (as pointed out in the movie credits), maybe it still is in some countries, but I want to believe that it wasn't happening in the way that it happens in this movie. In the movie this town's people are one step away from hiring her as a professional baby killer. Like, that wasn't how it was happening or how often it was happening. They turned a documented crime of the past into a custom?! A person who was suspected to do that did not casually live amongst the rest with their family as if everything was alright. Which is why it is stupid in the film that even though most everybody has asked her help (apparently in this movie they were giving birth everyday to 58259 girls and 0.1 boys), then everyone turns against her and wants her arrested. In short, she was portrayed almost as a scapegoat and I did not like this. It's like abdicating her a lot from her guilt. She is a tragic character indeed but she is not a scapegoat. And in the book the townfolk had no idea what she was doing until it became obvious.

At least a little touch of the extremely heavy, drool-enducing Skiathian dialect Papadiamantis was known for using was greatly missed. Then again there was nothing from Skiathos in this movie whatsoever. Even the folk attire was not Skiathian. It looked like a mix of Peloponnesian and Roumeliote, totally irrelevant. It wasn't even Maniot, I think.

Too. Many. Symbolic. Scenes. It made sense to add them but I mostly enjoyed only the ones with Protopappa.

The acting of the supporting cast was subpar in my opinion. Not bad necessarily but too theatrical for my taste.

So, with all this in mind but also taking into account that someone may watch it without having read the book first, I give it a 7+/10. If you compare it to the book, it must fall to a 6+/10. My recommendation? Watch the movie if you want but read the book ASAP.

[sunskate]

Livvy Shilling & Lèo Baeten of Team Belgium and IAMO interviewed by Absolute Skating

nice interview with them, and some good stuff about the coaches and training environment at IAMO - this part:

There was a lot of learning that occurred last year. The struggles we had inspired us to make a change," Livvy shares.

Livvy described the change as revitalizing. "I love it here [at IAMO]," she says. "I feel like I'm thriving. I love the coaching, their understanding of skating, technique, and the sport itself, but also the way they understand the athletes and their psychology. It's a very nurturing environment. They also have high expectations for athletes, both in performance and behavior. Everything is well organized. At first, it didn't feel like much of an adjustment, but as we got deeper into the work and programs, the adjustment felt bigger. Still, it was one I was eager to take on. It's really improved how we communicate on the ice and how we approach practice and competition." She also emphasized how the move reignited her passion for training. "It's been a long time since I've come into the rink every day looking forward to training."

For Léo, the adjustment was more complex. "I knew I wanted to change quite a bit in how I approached skating, my partnership and my relationship with the coaches," he explains. "The coaches in I.AM helped me figure out what I wanted and even some things I didn't necessarily want but knew I needed." Despite the challenges, Léo fully embraces the new environment, adding, "I'm really happy with our coaches. It's been nice to know them as people too. It was a good decision [to move here]."

Creating programs that inspire

The theme set by the International Skating Union for this season's rhythm dance is social dances and styles of the 1950s, 1960s, and 1970s. "I heard that many teams this year were excited to skate to disco, but together with our coaches we decided against it to avoid being too common. While we still chose a popular piece by James Brown, it's something that we really love. I personally love funky and bluesy music," Livvy explains.

"I wanted to make sure we found something that allowed us to focus on the dancing aspect, a piece that would feel more natural for us. This way, we could rely on our dancing while continuing to improve our technique, rather than struggling to connect to a song and feel limited in our performance," Léo adds.

Their free dance, on the other hand, is a more emotional and personal journey. They chose "It's all Coming Back to Me Now" by Celine Dion, a decision rooted in sentimentality for Livvy. "Celine Dion was the first singer I ever saw at a concert, for my grandma's birthday," she shared. The choice felt serendipitous as the team first connected with the music while they were in Italy (due to visa issues), preparing for Worlds in Japan in the group of Matteo Zanni, where a spontaneous music listening session at their airbnb sparked a thought of creating a program to this piece one day. "We just started dancing and thought, this would be fun to have a program to," Léo reminisces. "It was a full-circle moment when we chose this music, and it's inspiring for us to skate to every day," Livvy adds.

Adrian Diaz and Madison Hubbell spearheaded the choreography for the team's rhythm dance. For the free dance, Cara Moir played the leading role, not only overseeing the choreography but also helping refine the quality and execution of the program. Scott Moir's contribution is centered on elevating the overall quality, be it in transitions or crossovers, or improving technical precision in critical moments of the programs. Additionally, guest coaches and choreographers such as Sam Chouinard and Sarah Steben provided valuable input to enhance various aspects of their programs.

Learning from the best

Training in a vibrant environment at I.AM London Campus, Léo and Livvy have the opportunity to skate alongside some of the sport's top athletes. "Christina Carreira and Anthony Ponomarenko are spectacular role models," Livvy says, "not just for their skating but for the energy and professionalism they bring to the camp. It's something we all try to embody." Léo adds that watching his fellow skaters has been eye-opening: "There's such a calmness in their approach, something I wasn't used to. It's a great atmosphere to be part of. And all of the teams I observe have qualities that I want to learn from."

The team also draws inspiration from their coaches who were competitive skaters up until recently. Livvy shares, "I was always a big fan of Madison Hubbell. I thought she had the best edge work among female ice dancers and a strong command. If I could have a fraction of that when I leave this sport, I would feel that I achieved something beyond just results." Leo adds, "When you watch Scott [Moir] do some choreography, it leaves me in awe. Our coaches would still kick all our butts."

[kyouryokusenshi]

Hello! If you can some time can you please write a Fic based on what Mulder and Scully are doing now., After season 11 with the new baby? I keep thinking And wonder how they are doing with the new baby who’s now 3 months old, I thought about how the baby keeps them up at night. If any of them gone back to the FBI, just complete fluff, some romance too please

Happy to oblige! @today-in-fic @xfilesfics-blog @x-files-fics

Their daughter, Katie or Kit, as Mulder had decided while she was still in her mother’s womb, had arrived, happy and healthy, filling their lives with a new sense of purpose and joy. They had exchanged their high-stress jobs for a quieter life, opting to reside in the unremarkable house, hoping it would be a haven for their newfound family. Scully would return to the hospital part-time after maternity leave and Mulder would take on some consulting projects as he finished his book.

Mulder and Scully quickly realized that navigating parenthood was an entirely different challenge compared to their days spent chasing the paranormal especially as they were much older than other parents. Sleepless nights were now the norm, as little Kit seemed to have an aversion to sleep, preferring the midnight hours for cooing and crying as newborns do.

As they stood together in the dimly lit nursery, which was painted a sage green and decorated with blush pinks and forest animals, they watched their daughter fuss and wriggle. Mulder couldn't help but crack a small smile. "I wonder what she's dreaming about," he mused, his eyes fixated on Kit's tiny face.

Scully sighed softly, gently rocking Kit in her arms. "I'm not sure, but I hope it's not aliens or monsters," she replied with a playful grin.

The nights became long and challenging, but Mulder and Scully approached parenthood with their usual determination and teamwork. They took turns comforting Kit, pacing the living room in the wee hours, whispering soothing words and singing lullabies that Mulder had discovered in an old X-File about nursery rhymes. While they might not have solved the mystery of sleep deprivation just yet, they were in this together, and that made all the difference.

Scully sat comfortably in the nursery, a sense of peace washing over her as she cradled Kit in her arms. The soft glow of the nightlight illuminated the room, creating an intimate ambiance between mother and child. Kit's tiny hand clasped onto Scully's finger, her daughter’s eyes locked onto her with the purest gaze she had ever seen.

Breastfeeding had become a cherished routine for Scully and Kit, a time for them to connect in a way that was both primal and profound. She marveled at the miracle of life as her body provided nourishment for her growing daughter, a bond that was uniquely theirs.

Scully adjusted her position, bringing Kit closer to her chest, and she latched on instinctively, her tiny mouth eagerly seeking sustenance. As she nursed, Scully gently stroked her soft chestnut hair with her free hand, savoring the sensation of their skin touching and the rhythmic rise and fall of her breath against her.

In those quiet moments, Scully's mind wandered back to the journey that had led her here. The years of investigating the unexplained, the loss and heartache they had endured, and the moments of doubt and uncertainty had all culminated in this precious gift she held in her arms. Kit was a symbol of hope and love, a beacon of light in a world that often seemed shrouded in darkness. This impossible miracle made her a mother again.

She felt a profound sense of gratitude for this little life she had helped bring into the world, and for Mulder who had stood by her side through it all. He had been her rock, supporting her throughout the challenges of pregnancy and childbirth, and embracing the role of a devoted father with enthusiasm and tenderness as she knew he would.

As Kit finished nursing, her eyes slowly began to drift shut, her tiny body content and comforted. Scully carefully burped her, enjoying the gentle coos and sighs that escaped her as she settled into her arms. She couldn't help but smile, overwhelmed by the depth of her love for this precious little being.

In those quiet, private moments, Scully felt an unbreakable connection to her daughter. It was as if the act of breastfeeding transcended the physical exchange of milk; it became a sacred bond that united them on a level beyond words. She knew that she would do anything to protect her, nurture her, and guide her through life's twists and turns.

As she lay Kit down in her crib, she brushed a tender kiss on her forehead and whispered, "Sleep tight my little one. I'll be right here whenever you need me."

In the darkness of the nursery, Scully quietly left the room, her heart full of love and contentment. She knew that the journey of motherhood had only just begun, with its challenges and joys yet to unfold, but she was ready to embrace it all – armed with the strength of a mother's love and the knowledge that she and Kit shared an unbreakable bond, nurtured with each precious moment spent breastfeeding.

During the day, Mulder reveled in his role as a father and it made Scully’s heart surge each time she watched the two of them together. He'd cradle Kit in his arms and tell her wild tales about his adventures, substituting UFOs with flying storks and mythical creatures for gentle, fantastical animals. Scully would often roll her eyes and tell him not to scare their daughter, but secretly, she appreciated the whimsy he brought to their lives.

Mulder's heart swelled with love and awe as he cradled his baby girl in his arms. Her tiny fingers wrapped around his thumb, and he marveled at the fragility and resilience of this little being. He had always been a man of mysteries and enigmas, but nothing could compare to the wonder he felt holding his own flesh and blood, a feeling he’d only been able to capture once before, so many years ago.

Mulder had been looking forward to bonding with Kit ever since they found out they were having a girl. As he gazed into her eyes, he couldn't help but see flickers of Scully in her features, and he knew that this little girl would have the same determination and strength that had captivated him from the moment they met.

He'd spend hours with Kit, talking to her about everything and anything, even though he knew she couldn't understand a word he said. Mulder had a penchant for storytelling, and he'd regale her with tales of his adventures as an X-Files agent. Kit would coo and babble in response as if she knew he was sharing a special part of himself with her.

One of Mulder's favorite activities with Kit was dancing. He'd put on some old rock 'n' roll tunes and sway gently with her in his arms, feeling the beat of the music coursing through their bodies. It was their private dance party, or so he thought, a moment of joy amidst the chaos of the world.

Through the ups and downs of parenthood, Mulder cherished the moments he spent with Kit, knowing that they were creating memories that would last a lifetime. He couldn't wait to see what the future held for his daughter, but he knew one thing for certain - their bond was unbreakable, and he would always be there for her, just as he knew Scully would be.

In Kit, Mulder found a kindred spirit, someone who reminded him of the beauty and magic of life. She was his little miracle, and he was determined to be the best father he could be for her, navigating the mysteries of parenthood with the same sense of wonder and determination that had defined his life as an X-Files agent. Together, they were a team, ready to face whatever the world had in store for them.

As Kit began to grow, so did their love for her. They marveled at each new milestone, from her first giggle to her tiny hands grasping at their fingers. Mulder and Scully's hearts swelled with pride, in utter disbelief that this tiny impossible baby was theirs.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky with hues of pink and gold, Mulder and Scully found themselves on the porch of the unremarkable house, watching Kit sleeping soundly in her crib through the window.

"You know, Scully," Mulder began, breaking the comfortable silence between them, "I used to believe that the truth was 'out there,' and maybe it still is. But right now, the truth is right here, in this house, at this moment."

Scully turned to him, a tender smile gracing her lips. "You're right, Mulder. Our little family is the most remarkable thing in the world to me. I wouldn't trade this for anything."

Mulder and Scully sat together on the couch in their living room, the soft glow of the evening sun casting a warm light across the room. Between them lay their three-month-old baby girl nestled in a soft blanket, her eyes blinking sleepily as she observed her surroundings.

Mulder gently brushed a finger against Kit's tiny hand, causing her to close her fingers around his in a gentle grip. He smiled down at her, his heart full of wonder and love. "She's amazing, Scully," he said, his voice soft with awe.

Scully nodded, a radiant smile spreading across her face. "Yes, she is," she replied, her voice filled with a mix of tenderness and pride. "I love her so much."

Mulder leaned over and pressed a soft kiss on the top of Kit's head, inhaling the sweet scent of baby shampoo. "It's incredible, isn't it?" he said, his eyes never leaving his daughter's face. "How someone so small can bring so much joy and meaning to our lives."

Scully's hand found Mulder's, and their fingers intertwined as they sat together, savoring the quiet moment. Kit let out a soft coo, and Scully chuckled. "She's quite the chatterbox, just like her father," she said affectionately, looking at Mulder with a fond smile.

Mulder raised an eyebrow playfully. "Are you saying I talk too much, Scully?" he teased, his eyes twinkling.

Scully laughed softly. "You know what I mean," she replied, giving his hand a playful squeeze. "But I wouldn't have it any other way. I love listening to you talk about everything and anything, especially when it's about her."

As they continued to marvel at their daughter, Mulder and Scully found themselves reflecting on the journey that had brought them to this moment - a journey filled with challenges, heartaches, and moments of joy. But they both knew that Kit was their greatest gift, a testament to their love and resilience.

"She's got your eyes," Mulder remarked, his voice tinged with emotion. "And your strength, Scully. I can see it already."

Scully leaned against Mulder's shoulder, resting her head on him. "And she's got your hair and your sense of wonder, Mulder," she said softly. 

Mulder wrapped an arm around Scully, pulling her closer, creating a cocoon of love and warmth around their little family. 

At that moment, as they sat together, Mulder, Scully, and Kit, they knew that they were embarking on a new chapter of their lives - one filled with the joys and challenges of parenthood. And as they looked at their daughter, they knew that love would guide them through every step of the journey, making them stronger, closer, and more complete than ever before.

[glorifiedgpjfic]

Chapter 48

As Jo drove to work she began making a mental list of what she wanted to discuss in therapy, she felt although it was easier to plan what she wanted to cover in each session to avoid rambling and not making as much progress as she possibly could. When she’d first started seeing Dr Isles, she found that for the first few sessions, she would tend to info dump and jump from one topic to another, which, luckily Dr Isles could just about keep up with, it took Jo a while to even realise she did it - so she made a note to be sure to know what she wanted to talk about in each session so she could tick it off as she went. She began trying to figure out what she was actually feeling, it was challenging because she knew she felt annoyed, yet somehow she felt angry, not at Eddie but herself, for not standing up for herself and her job, she felt angry at Marc O’Leary for being a misogynistic prick, she was angry for his first victim who wasn’t believed. But the problem with this anger was that there was nowhere for her to direct it or channel it so last night she had aimed it directly at the one person who didn’t deserve it.

When Jo arrived at work she was eager to get to therapy, she needed to vent desperately. She made a beeline to the office where her therapist was waiting for her, she took a seat opposite Dr Isles,

“Good morning, Jo- How are you feeling today?” Jo couldn’t help but let out a quiet chuckle,

“Well…” Jo then went on to explain how she was feeling about not being in the field and how she wasn’t quite adjusting to the new role, she explained how she was unintentionally growing resentful towards Eddie which she knew was unfair, when she finally finished speaking her mouth was dry and she found herself gulping down a glass of water, Dr Isles pondered what Jo had told him for a few moments.

“I understand why your boyfriend doesn’t want you to be in the field, he obviously cares about you very deeply, I think you feel angry because you aren’t used to having someone looking out for you- since your grandparents died when you were young, you’ve grown up with a very small circle and now that's expanding and it scares you that someone cares about you. You’ve always been able to take risks with your job and do whatever you wanted, and now you feel that you’re losing control in your life, because for the first time ever you aren’t the only character in your story. And you don’t know how to let someone care for you.” There was a brief silence,

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do, I don’t want to give up a big part of myself just so that Eddie sleeps at night. It’s like me asking him to stop singing just in case someone stalks him- it's unreasonable!”

“Why do you think it’s unreasonable?”

“Because I’m standing down because of a ‘what if’, this job is all I’ve ever done and I’m not dead yet. Why does this have to be the compromise?”

“I can’t answer that, only you and Eddie can.”

At potatohead Eddie was stewing, he seemed withdrawn which in the past wasn’t a good sign for the band, it was Jeff who broke the silence,

“What’s going on Ed?”

“I think I fucked up.” He went on to explain the situation and how Jo had spoken to him, he felt guilty but he thought it would be better to feel guilty than to have to plan Jo’s funeral. But then again he didn’t want to lose her again, he was so conflicted. The guys had very little input, the best they could offer their distressed friend was a place to vent without judgement, which he obviously needed.

Jo left her session with Dr Isles feeling confused, she needed to talk to Eddie and she needed to stop trying to avoid hurting his feelings they needed to talk frankly. On her way back to her desk she bumped into a very stressed Eleanor,

“I need your help,” Jo nodded and followed Eleanor to her desk, “it’s the Bonnie and Clyde case.” Jo felt her stomach drop, this case had been on her mind for weeks; the case had so many parallels to her parents and she knew that mentally she was not strong enough to even think about them. “We finally got them, it’s just-” Eleanor paused, “we can’t get a word out of them, they’ve lawyered up but we can’t find their latest victims.” Eleanor handed Jo a thick brown folder, “They’ve changed MO completely since you were on the case, hell, they’ve changed MO at least three times.”

“Is that what’s happening? Are they changing MO, or are they devolving?” Jo asked and Eleanor couldn’t answer, “So they’ve gone from burglary to murder and now they’ve abducted a couple?” Eleanor nodded, “what do we know about the couple they took?” Jo began flipping through the file looking for details about the couple but there wasn’t much, they seemed to be completely normal.

“We don’t have much about our Bonnie and Clyde, other than their names; Rose Hindley and Ian Knowles, we’ve got nothing on their history, it’s like they never existed.”

Jo was interested to find out whether the names they had were real, she couldn’t help but think of Myra Hindley and Ian Brady and the Moors murders. Were the names just coincidence? Or were they fake names chosen to pay homage to two of England’s most evil murderers? This thought made Jo nervous, why of all the duos would they name themselves after British killers? She pondered whether it seemed like something her parents would do, the truth was she didn’t know. She knew nothing about them, and truthfully she hoped they were dead. Eleanor led her to the interrogation room where Ian Knowles and his lawyer were having a hushed conversation, Joanne was relieved to see that Ian was no older than forty. Jo watched through the one-way mirror as he spoke to his lawyer gesturing frantically with his hands, his eyes were dark and Joanne was eager to speak to him; however, the lawyer was likely to make things difficult.

Before deciding who to speak to first Joanne went to observe Rose Hindley, she needed to try and figure out how their dynamic worked. In contrast to Ian, Rose sat ignoring her lawyer staring blankly at her reflection in the mirror, she was calm and collected; it quickly became apparent to Jo that she was the dominant one in their relationship. Now she just needed to figure out how to get her to talk, in previous cases, Jo had managed to manipulate the submissive one in the dynamic to turn on their partner and spill all the details of the case, she didn’t feel although this case would be quite so straight forward.

Eleanor and Joanne spent a few hours trying to decide how to approach the interrogation and before they knew it the day had flown by, they had decided to leave the pair’s interrogation until the morning. They had informed William of their plan for the morning and he had approved of it, offering to help should they need it.

“Today has been long.” Eleanor sighed as they gathered their belongings at their respective desks,

“You’re telling me, shall we go for a drink?” Jo had suggested and Eleanor had quickly agreed, so Jo had driven them to her apartment where she left her car and they had walked to the off ramp. Jo had noticed that there were no lights on in the apartment suggesting that Eddie wasn’t home yet, which she thought was strange unless he’d gone back to ‘Casa Cornell’ or was still at potatohead.

What was intended to be one drink quickly turned into several drinks and soon enough Eleanor was excusing herself to go home, she was quite the lightweight which surprised Jo. Not being ready to go home just yet Jo opted to stay for one more, which was a lie. She moved from the booth she and Eleanor had occupied to a stool by the bar, she felt out of place as she was still wearing her suit and everyone else was dressed much more casually. She stared blankly into her Amaretto and cranberry and thought about what she’d discussed in therapy earlier that day, she was desperate for a solution that wouldn’t ruin her relationship; but spending today with El and working on the interrogation made her miss being in the field even more. She missed how each case was a new puzzle and how she would be there for every stage, from the crime being reported to the suspects being arrested, sometimes she’d even be there in court to testify, she got to do it all. Whereas now, now she was stuck in a loop of; go to prison, speak to rapists and murderers, make notes, leave prison, repeat. And as much as she had found the research interesting it was monotonous, and she felt stir-crazy.

After a few more drinks she found herself feeling more chatty and upbeat, she struck up a conversation with the bartender and was laughing at a joke he’d told when she felt a tap on the shoulder, she spun around on her stool and was surprised to see Chris standing there with a concerned expression on his face,

“OMG! Cornell! What are you doing here? I am so happy to see you!” Jo jumped up from her stool and threw her arms around him some of her drink spilt down his back but he didn’t mention it, Jo quickly turned back to the bar and ordered a drink for her and Chris but before the bartender could start making the drinks Chris changed the order to two glasses of water, which Jo immediately began complaining about.

“Why don’t you go find us a booth? Somewhere we can talk,” Chris suggested with a reassuring smile, Jo nodded and bounded off in search of a booth. Chris soon joined her with their waters,

“Jo, what’s going on?” 

[workscounselingcenter]

Stepping Up: A Stepmother’s Journey

If someone had told me years ago that I would become a full-time stepmother, I would have laughed and been like “No way.” The very idea seemed so distant from my reality. I was living my life, navigating my career and graduate school, and enjoying my relationship, without any idea of the numerous changes that lay ahead. Yet, here I am, sharing my journey of abruptly stepping into the role of helping raise my boyfriend’s 9-year-old son full-time—a shift from the occasional visits that barely scratched the surface of parenting.

The transition was anything but gradual. One day, I was the girlfriend who saw her partner’s son on weekends; the next, I found myself in the whirlpool of full-time parenting. This change didn’t come with a manual, and it certainly didn’t come with a grace period for me to adjust. I went from planning dates and weekend getaways to managing sports events, homework, bedtime routines, etc.

Navigating the hardships of this role has been a complex and humbling experience. One of the first challenges I faced was the feeling of competition with the biological mother. It’s a delicate dance, trying to establish my own parenting style while respecting the boundaries and roles already in place. And I know I’m not the only one, but I like to have things done a certain way. I often found myself questioning whether I was overstepping or not doing enough. This insecurity was amplified by the fact that I don’t have any biological children of my own, leaving me to wonder if my instincts were correct or if I was missing something crucial. I have so much childhood experience and education to where I thought I knew what was best and thinking my way was right.

Adjusting to the reduction in personal freedom was another significant challenge. The spontaneous aspects of my previous life—like catching a movie on a whim or my boyfriend and I taking night drives came to a sudden stop because we had to be ready to get up early the next day. The dynamics between my partner and me evolved in many ways, testing our strength and adaptability. We are learning to navigate new responsibilities, shifting priorities, and the inevitable stress that comes with raising a child.

Every day presents a new set of uncertainties. There are moments when I doubt whether this path is truly meant for me. Am I capable? Is this what I want? Yet, there are also days when I feel incredibly strong—proud of myself for rising to the occasion and handling situations I never imagined I could. Balancing the emotional difficulties has been a journey, one that requires constant reflection and adaptation. I would’ve thought that being a therapist handling a child’s emotions would be a piece of cake, but it’s been harder than I thought. It’s so many emotions my stepson goes through, and I must understand that he doesn’t cope the way I do. That he’s been taught for the first 9 years of his life in a vastly different way that I was raised, so I must meet him where he’s at.

Despite these challenges, there are also rewards. Building a relationship with my stepson has been incredibly fulfilling. It’s not where I want it yet, but time will tell. Watching him grow, succeed, and knowing that I’ve contributed to his development brings me happiness. The moments when he seeks me out for advice, or just to share a laugh, make all the struggles worthwhile.

As I continue to navigate this path, I remain committed to making a positive difference in my stepson’s life. I won’t pretend that I have mastered this role. I’ve seen sides of myself that I’ve liked and haven’t liked, but I’m still adjusting, and observing myself in a new light. Acknowledging that perfection isn’t achievable, and that’s okay. I’ve made my share of mistakes, and as a perfectionist, it’s been tough to accept them. But these mistakes are part of the learning curve, part of what shapes me into a better guardian and partner. That I’ll love him and build a relationship with him that I didn’t birth is also a gift I’ll cherish forever.

Please get in touch. We will be happy to discuss how I may be able to help.

[kvibe-test]

Taking the Leap: Interning Abroad for the First Time

When I first entertained the idea of interning abroad, it felt almost unreal. The prospect of packing up my belongings and moving to a new country for a few months brought with it equal parts excitement and apprehension. At the time, I was finishing up my third year of university, and the thought of stepping out of my comfort zone and diving into a completely different culture was both exhilarating and terrifying.

I remember having long conversations with my friends and family about my intentions. My friend Sarah was particularly supportive. "Just imagine the stories you'll have to tell and the people you’ll meet," she would say, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. I suppose deep down, I knew this was something I wanted—needed—to do. But the overarching question remained: why?

Factors Influencing My Decision

Several factors influenced my decision to seriously consider interning abroad. Firstly, the urge to experience a new culture was stronger than ever. Growing up, I had always been surrounded by stories of my parents' travels and adventures. Now, it seemed like my moment to create my own.

Secondly, career development played a significant role. In today’s globalized world, having international experience on my resume seemed invaluable. "Imagine the edge it will give you in job interviews," my mentor, Mr. Davis, often reminded me. He once mentioned, "Employers are constantly on the lookout for candidates who have demonstrated adaptability and cultural competence."

Moreover, I was drawn by the opportunity to build a global network. Being connected with professionals and fellow interns from around the world could open doors I hadn't even dared to dream of. The thought of attending networking events and learning from industry leaders in another country was tantalizing. I could picture myself exchanging ideas with my peers over coffee in a bustling city cafe.

Excitement and Apprehension

Yet, with all the excitement came a fair share of apprehension. The 'what-ifs' plagued my mind more than I’d care to admit. "What if I can't adjust to the culture?" I wondered late at night. Looking at my sister for support, she assured me, "Every new experience comes with its challenges, but think about how much you'll grow." Her words were a comfort.

Financial concerns were another significant worry. Living in a new country can be expensive, and the idea of managing a budget in an unfamiliar currency was daunting. I remember scouring the internet for scholarships and grants specific to international internships, bookmarking pages for further research. Aunt Marie lent a practical piece of advice: "Start saving now, and look for part-time remote jobs you can do while interning."

Fear of isolation also lingered. The thought of being away from everything I considered familiar was overwhelming at times. How would I make new friends? What if the language barrier was too much to handle? These insecurities were hard to shake, but remembering the excitement kept me going.

The Initial Research

The initial research phase was intense and, at times, overwhelming. I spent countless hours browsing through online forums and blogs of past interns. One blog, in particular, stood out. The author had interned in Tokyo and her vivid descriptions of everyday life there were captivating. Her advice was practical and, most importantly, reassuring. "It's going to be a rollercoaster of emotions," she wrote, "but every moment is worth it."

I also joined Facebook groups related to international internships. These groups were gold mines of information—suggestions on affordable housing, tips on navigating public transport, and even recommendations on where to get the best local cuisine. "People are generally very helpful if you’re willing to ask for it," one member commented when I expressed my concerns about integrating into a new community.

It wasn’t just casual browsing; I started compiling a list of potential countries and companies that appealed to me. London was high on my list—I had always been fascinated by its history and vibrant energy. However, the thought of interning in a city like Berlin, known for its start-up culture, was equally enticing.

To get a head start, I reached out to a few companies directly, inquiring about their internship programs. To my delight, some replied with information on their application process and what they looked for in candidates. Their enthusiasm was infectious, and my email correspondence with them often ended with a hopeful "looking forward to your application."

Talking to alumni from my university who had gone through similar experiences also helped. They shared their stories, from the mundane to the magical, and listening to them made the whole idea less intimidating and more achievable. "It's a leap of faith,” one of them, Mike, said, “but it's one you'll never regret."

By the time I had gathered sufficient information, my mind was made up. I didn't have all the answers, and there were still many uncertainties. Yet, the vision of immersing myself in a different culture and paving the path for future career opportunities was too compelling to ignore.

"The world is so much bigger than you think," my grandma once told me, "and you won't truly understand it until you see it for yourself." Her wisdom gave me the final push I needed. With a heart full of dreams and a mind prepared for challenges, I decided to seriously pursue an internship abroad.

This is just the beginning of my journey. In future posts, I will delve deeper into my application process, the preparations, and the experiences I will gather along the way. For now, I am ready to embark on an adventure that promises to shape not just my career, but my very outlook on life.

[marvylaxamana]

I'm in my third year now. I can't even begin to count the number of times our college professors asked us, as education students, why we chose English as our major. The reason is that I want to make my inner child happy. I've wanted to teach English since elementary because I love interacting with children and I truly enjoy the subject. Additionally, my mom said that I do well in our English classes (well, that was back when English classes were still as easy as ABC haha). And so here I am, blogging about my experiences as an English major.

I needed to adjust to a new environment and people during my first year, which was difficult for me as an introvert. Fortunately, I knew a few folks from high school. And the mere notion of attending "college" terrified me. I think that my second year was manageable. Now that I'm a junior, I believe our thesis was my biggest challenge. Well, speaking in English is another aspect of being an English major, especially when it comes to recitations. Even though our professors are speakers of Tagalog, they still say to us, "Can you speak in English? I don't understand you." That makes sense because we are majoring in English (but it's challenging haha). Writing essays and reflection papers is another aspect of being an English major. Although I enjoy writing, I still ran out of English words in this major! Reporting is another matter. One of my favorite college memories is how, from being frightened to speak in front of a group of people, I now enjoy engaging in pertinent discussions like a true instructor. If you have glossophobia, as I do, but still want to practice public speaking, consider majoring in English. As Zig Ziglar said, F-E-A-R has two meanings: 'Forget Everything And Run' or 'Face Everything And Rise. ' The choice is yours. Literature is another aspect of majoring in English. Children and adolescent literature, Philippine literature, Afro-Asian literature, English and American literature, and Contemporary, Popular, and Emergent literature. You can name more if I haven't mentioned all the literature-related topics. In addition to the previously laid out English major stuff, we also have phonemic charts and sentence diagramming, which are all not a joke! Imagine grouping different parts of the sentence visually when performing sentence diagramming. Imagine attending an English class, and you come across /kæt/ and /ˈvɪʒn/. I felt like I could no longer read when I got to college haha.

Majoring in English is generally quite challenging. Some professors would say things like, "You are an English majors, you should know this." or even, "English majors should be the role model for all education students." But, it's possible that their purpose was not to put undue pressure on us. Perhaps they're trying to say, "As English majors, we may know this and learn more." and "English majors can set a good example for the betterment of everyone."

As a junior in college, if I were asked to give some tips, I would say to meet good friends and learn time management.

1. Be in the company of good friends. Friends who have reached adulthood mentally can assist you psychologically. Friends who will inspire you to achieve academic excellence. Friends who will lift your spirits when you're about to give a speech, report, play, or anything else that makes you anxious. Friends that won't pressure you to squander your savings and go everywhere practically every day. Yes, going out is an excellent idea, especially after a rigorous week of exams, since you definitely deserve it. However, if you can no longer pay the charges, learn how to say no!! Friends that, in a class full of dangerous knives, won't make you overthink if they are stabbing you from behind. It's important to make friends in college, but make sure they will clap for your wins instead of pulling you down (and you should clap for theirs, too). Simply put, find friends who will assist you in succeeding in college. 

2. Acquire time management skills. If the professor assigned you a LOT of academic work, that is extremely distressing. Whine like a kid? Go On. Cry like a heartbroken teenager? Go On. Breathe again after that. Breathe, and then begin time management. Make a list of all the tasks you have to accomplish and their due dates. The next step is to set a schedule at which you will begin completing each activity. It is best to finish tasks with earlier deadlines first. The following tasks will then come next. It's good to rest. However, try not to let social media use take up all of your time. Still, the best rest is sleep. Health should also be a top priority. If you know that your body needs rest, give that to yourself.

That concludes my story of being an English major (those tips are just a bonus hehe). Honestly, during high school, I considered taking a different course. What if I pursue a different line of work? What happens if I give it a shot? However, being an English major made me realize I want to become a teacher. Not because I'm the best at it but because I find the language and the subject so mesmerizing.