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quokkacore · 4 years ago

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LIBERALITY: starshine [oh sehun] (m)

part II of all your gods are fake

summary: sehun gives you what he can, but it’s never easy. you have to work for it as well, but effort pays off, and he rewards you so kindly.

pairing: freedomfighter!sehun x reader

genre: smut, angst, fluff, light horror towards the end?

warnings: language, descriptions of war, descriptions of cults, mentions of violence, shibari, thigh riding, handjobs, reader has nipple piercings, sensory deprivation (blindfolds and ties), seizures, knives

song rec: rosalia & ozuna - yo x ti, tu x mi ♡ taemin - never forever

word count: 4.3k

a/n: this was originally posted to my old writing blog on may 9th, 2020. if you would like to be on the taglist, pls send me an ask or a message! <3

masterlist

He was getting agitated. You could tell this much.

It was already bad enough that the meeting so far had lasted for over an hour and a half, but now the tension of the situation was finally settling in, as everyone realized that it was finally here.

The last stronghold. Or so they believed. Or so he believed.

The meeting was only for the highest ranking officials of the resistance, people who The Brotherhood knew they could trust—the plan was far too important to risk it falling into the hands of The Sect of Seven at the hands of double agents.

The plan that, if executed correctly, could turn the tides and cause the downfall of the Sect.

You watched, leaning against the wall as Junmyeon, leader of The Brotherhood and face of the resistance towered over the war table, talking about possible strategies to take the last major neutral city and also take control of the country.

The Sect of Seven had existed for years before the war began—its existence spanned across centuries, millenia, even; dating back to the year The Prophecy of Brothers Alike was first proclaimed in the late twelfth century, and remained strong even almost a whole century after The Great Collapse of 2050, when global society had collapsed due to war, famine and climate disasters.

Then the war broke out, some ten years ago, when the first two brothers of the Fated Fourteen first made themselves known, springing the Sect’s violent plans into action.

Since then, the resistance had been built up by The Brotherhood’s efforts, both capturing strategic cities and territories across North America. The Sect was based in the desert, with the Sanctuary based in what was once Los Angeles, their control spanning across what was western Mexico, the american south, and half of the northwest.

The resistance was based higher north, in the Citadel, which used to be Chicago, territories consisting of parts of southern Canada, the rockies, the northern midwest and what remained of the Peninsula of Yucatan. Places like Greenland, the southern east coast and northern canadian territories had either been destroyed during the collapse or had since been reclaimed by extreme climate and nature.

The only major territory that remained uncaptured by either sides, the place where many had fled to avoid getting caught in the crossfire, was the northern west coast, and that was controlled by Washington DC.

The very spot the resistance was now planning to take.

Your eyes floated up towards Sehun, who was standing right next to Junmyeon, who was now listening to Chanyeol and Baekhyun discuss the logistics of a peaceful invasion.

“Overall, I think we still need time to form a solid strategy,” Baekhyun said, “Jongdae needs to get in contact with The Agate Sisters for some more weapons—”

“Which is not very easy, might I add—” Jongdae interjected.

“And even before that…” Junmyeon’s voice was loud, taking command of the situation, “Sehun.”

All eyes in the room fell to the youngest member of The Brotherhood.

Oh Sehun. The Oracle.

Sehun had become known to the world two years after Suho and Junmyeon were proclaimed the first two brothers of the prophecy, the same time as his twin brother. Being so young, his ability of both interpreting and creating prophecies was a sight to behold, both terrifying and morbidly fascinating.

You’d known him since he and his brother were children, before the three of you realized what the future held in store—pain and suffering for Sehun and you, and nothing but pleasure and debauchery for Sehün.

“Do you think you could consult with the spirits for a minor prophecy? Or any other interpretations of the prophecy?”

Sehun shifted in his stance, leaning back and forth. “I need time.” His voice was firm and gravelly as he crossed his arms, immersed in thought. “My most recent auguries have revealed to me that DC is the last stronghold that the prophecy is talking about. But I can’t be a hundred percent sure. Prophecies love to play mind games. We all know that.”

“Is there anything we have to be wary of when it comes to the prophecy? Double entendres, stuff like that?” Yixing asked, even though everyone in the room had heard the god-forsaken prophecy more than enough times throughout the past few years.

Sehun sighed, but closed his eyes and nodded anyway. A dramatic tension settled over the room, and Sehun began to speak.

“Cometh a day when seven sets of twins, be opposite ends of both virtue and sin—why am I going over this again, we all know this,” He huffed.

“Please just continue,” Baekhyun mumbled.

“Ugh, fine. Bearing eyes of blue and eyes of brown, cometh to tear the last stronghold down—” Sehun rolled his eyes, frustration evident in his expression. “The term stronghold has always been somewhat questionable. The prophecy was first declared in 1176, right? Early Modern English wouldn’t become a thing for another three hundred years, so most of this stems from Middle English. Some interpret stronghold as fort, or base, or holy land…”

Jongdae raised his hand before speaking, eyes flashing in alarm as he interrupted Sehun’s tangent. “Wait, wait, if others have translated it as holy land, then—”

“The Sanctuary.”

Junmyeon’s voice was quiet, but still commanded a heavy presence across the room, as a profound silence spread across the space.

“That means that the final battle could be in Los Angeles, on their turf. That would put us at a major disadvantage. We’re already at a major disadvantage.” The leader’s eyebrows were furrowed, using both hands to lean on the table as he made the connection.

The dread that followed was thick and suffocating, and you took the opportunity to speak up, wishing to rid the room of the anxiety gathering.

“But think about the implications of fighting the final battle in The Sanctuary. It would have to mean that we’ve managed to push them back sufficiently to the point where we feel confident invading their home base. Which we wouldn’t do unless we knew that we had a high possibility of winning.”

All eyes fell to you, and you crossed your arms, before meeting Sehun’s gaze. The look in his eyes was something akin to gratitude, being able to lift the sudden darkness. You lifted your hand to gesture back at Sehun. “Continue.”

He nodded, gaze stern. “Perhaps lovers lost to a most wicked brother, bringeth vengeance and hellfire upon one another… Loss could mean one of two things. Betrayal or death. But the rest of those two lines imply that the side that does the taking will suffer because of what they’ve done. That means that for now, none of us lay hands on any of the Sanctuary Queens, and those of us who have them, keep our partners close… Beware ye who heed this, for I warn thee now: suffer shall those who carelessly bow.”

“It has to be them,” A girl, Sasha, declared, “They’ve been lying to their followers for years—”

“That could mean anything. You know that.” Sehun’s voice was rough, eyes trained on the map that had been carved into the table.

A silence hung over the room, tension palpable as everyone remembered what the stakes were. These were lives and people’s free wills on the line, indescribable anguish promised by a prophecy written centuries ago to people who didn’t truly know their leaders. The end was near, but the outcome was nowhere near foreseeable.

“I’ll… I’ll try and do some more smoke readings.” It struck you how tired he sounded, watching as he rubbed his eyes with his thumb and index finger, “Maybe I’ll ask the spirit of the Oracle for a specific prophecy on DC. For now, we just have to be cautious. Watch for any suspicious activity here in the citadel and listen to intelligence reports. Jongin, you’ve got your moles at the Sanctuary, right?”

Jongin nodded, gaze dark. “Yeah. I’m meeting with Ren in two weeks. She’s the best of the best. I’ll see what she has for us.”

Junmyeon straightened his posture, everyone quieting when he opened his mouth to speak.

“I think that’s enough worrying about that for today,” He declared, sounding grim, “Before we go, you all know that not a single word is to leave this room. This is highly classified information. Meeting adjourned.”

You watched everyone file out of the room, hoping to speak to Sehun, yet somehow didn’t catch when he left. You got the feeling that that was what he intended.

So you left too, resolving to see him that night.

—

Sehun’s room was easy to find, seeing as how it was right across the hall from yours, in the large apartment building the heads of the resistance had settled into. You knocked on his door, sighing when you didn’t hear any response. You tried one more time, then another time, finally a third time, before letting your head fall frustratedly against the wood of the door.

“Hun, I know you’re in there… please let me in.”

You heard muffled sounds of shuffling from behind the door, pulling your head away to lean it against the doorframe. Waiting, you strained your ears for a noise, hearing the occasional sound.

Eventually, you heard the telltale sound of heavy footsteps being dragged across the floor. You pursed your lips, waiting for the door to open, wondering what you would see when it did.

The door swung open slowly, and you were met with a tall figure, hunched over as he peered down at you. The exhaustion in his gaze was palpable, and you felt your heart clench in sympathy.

Sehun was 25 now. He was made known to the public some nine years ago, and on top of it all, he was the Oracle. Interpretations of any and all prophecies were up to him, a sixteen year old boy who had just discovered he was destined to spend the rest of his life fighting against his own brother, something that tore his family apart.

He was a child.

And now, here he stood, looking too worn, too hopeless for someone so young. His eyes had seen horrors he was much too young to see. Life had eaten away at the glow he’d had when you were both younger. The dark circles underneath his eyes were so pronounced, you’d think he hadn’t slept since he was a baby. His short, dark hair was greasy. You wondered if he’d been taking care of himself properly.

“Do you need anything?” His voice was raspy, quiet. You looked at him, brown eyes met yours. Your heart clenched. Here he was, mentally exhausted, and the first thing he said to you wasn’t a hello, but rather, asking quietly if you needed anything.

“Can I come inside?” You asked sheepishly, and he blinked for a second, before nodding, opening the door more for you to pass. “Go ahead.”

You stepped past him, into the hallway of his small apartment. The smell of incense invaded your nose, and you frowned. He closed the door, and crossed his arms. “What’s going on, Y/N?”

“Are you okay? You looked so tired today, you look tired now.”

“I’m fine—"

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

You refused to let him keep it all to himself. “Sehun…”

He leaned against the wall, head bowed, and you mirrored his stance, standing against the wall as well, but you didn’t look away. “Y/N, I can’t deal with that right now. People need me.”

“Sehun, you can’t force yourself like this, you’ve told me that yourself—"

“I have to make this work. I can’t fail like last time, not if DC is what we think it is.”

You sighed, taking a step forward, resting a hand on his arm. He glanced at it briefly, then raised his head to look at you. You said nothing, but guided him to sit down on the couch, and you sat next to him.

“Sehun,” You said, voice quiet, “DC is nothing but puppets right now pretending they’re actually doing anything. We have our puppets, the sect have theirs. You can’t be sure that a place like that is what determines whether we’re doomed or not. You said it yourself, there are so many possibilities that DC isn’t the place we’re thinking about.”

He took a few deep breaths, nodding to your words before rubbing his eyes with his thumb and index finger. He looked strained, and you moved to sit closer to him.

“Everything is so fucked up,” Sehun whispered, and you nodded in agreement. “I feel like everything is out of control. Like I can’t do anything about it. Meanwhile, Sehün—"

“Sehün has people who think he’s a god obeying his every whim, just like the rest of those—those idiots.“ Your voice was quiet, but firm, refusing to allow him to compare himself to his brother, "The only reason they look so polished and seem to have everything under control is they only leave the Sanctuary when they absolutely need to, to save face. They feel like they’re above everyone else.”

You took Sehun’s hand, carefully removing his worn, black glove before cradling it in your smaller hand, as if it were incredibly fragile. His eyes met yours, and you gave him a sad smile.

“The Brotherhood, on the other hand… You only use that title for formality’s sake. Yes, you’re all the leaders, but you see yourselves as equal to the rest of us. All of you are out there with us, on the front lines. You’re tired because you give everything you have to serve this cause, my love. You feel that everything is out of control because… well, it is. Lady Fate is a tricky one, we all know that. But you feel it even more because you’re dealing with it head on, not from some sparkly throne on a golden pedestal.”

Sehun’s eyes glittered with several emotions you couldn’t pinpoint, but you could see fondness in them. He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Starshine,” He mumbled into your hair, before resting his chin on the crown of your head, “Where would I be without you.”

You hummed, before allowing your eyes to flutter shut, and the two of you sat in silence for what seemed like hours. You reflected back to when you and Sehun both realized your feelings for one another, after a devastating battle in Salt Lake City where Sehun had given his brother the now infamous scar running down the left side of his face, some six years ago. He’d come so close to dying that day, and you’d realized just how important he was to you.

You’d been joined by the hip since you were children, and when the revelation came that he and Sehün were the brothers of liberality and greed respectively, you didn’t hesitate in taking his side, vowing to follow him until the bitter end.

It all made sense to you when you came to Sehun’s sickbed, seeing him resting and bloodied, that you’d actually been in love with the boy for a long time, perhaps ever since you’d first met him. You wouldn’t ever be able to live without him, and apparently, he felt the same way.

In this moral crisis, you were his anchor, his tether to the corporeal plane when his world was on an ethereal one.

Upon all the doubts that everyone had, as to whether the Fated Fourteen were truly gods or if they were simply men with delusions of grandeur chosen by Lady Fate for her cruel entertainment, he felt that you were what reminded him that he was human, that past gods were never truly capable of love or real emotion.

To be capable of loving you was a humbling experience, one that he treasured dearly, especially in moments like this.

“Do you remember what we did the last time you felt like you had no control?” Your voice was a whisper, full of promise and anticipation, as the hand that wasn’t holding his own came to ghost over his thigh. Sehun’s breath hitched, recalling the experience. Roughness against soft, supple skin, restraint and control, you giving yourself entirely to him before he gave himself entirely to you.

“What exactly are you proposing?” He murmured, and you exhaled as one would when they found something amusing, the ghost of a laugh. “You know what I’m proposing, Sehun. Don’t act as if I haven’t seen you teaching Chanyeol to tie his knots when he’s getting ready to go out on a field mission.”

His hand tugged yours towards him, and you moved as he sat back, resting his back against the couch as he helped you straddle his waist. You faced him, realizing with a giggle that he’d turned slightly pink at your accusation.

“Do me a favor,” He said, and you nodded, letting your free hand rest on his shoulder. “Never talk about Chanyeol when you’re trying to get me into bed again. You are the sexiest thing I’ve ever laid my eyes on… Chanyeol, however, is the most unsexy person I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing.”

Your head tipped back with laughter, and he joined in with you. Your heart, upon hearing this, skipped a beat. You had a hard time recalling when the last he’d laughed was. “I think Sasha would disagree.”

“Yeah, but Sasha isn’t here now, is she? It’s just you and me.” He leaned forward, trapping your waist with his hands and letting his face come close to yours. You watched his eyes flutter down to watch your lips, inches away from yours. You gulped when his lips parted, his tongue peeking out to lick the pink skin.

“So you want me to tie you up. Take control.”

Your hands wrapped around his neck, and you smiled. “Only if you want to tie me up. I want you to have at least one thing you feel you can control.”

Sehun licked his lips again, sighing in amusement as he considered the idea. “Y’know, a few weeks ago, some of the field officers came in with a bunch of fabric they managed to smuggle out of LA…” His tone was quiet, and his hands began trailing downwards, pulling you against him, voice filling you with anticipation. Comfortable fabric was so difficult to come by these days, given that the Sect had taken what were once lavish city districts.

You gasped slightly when your core came into contact with his lap, feeling he was already starting to get hard, and felt your face heat up.

“I might’ve bought a silk tie or two off of ‘em,” He told you, eyes burning holes into your skin, “Wanted to see what my starshine would look like in pink.”

Your felt your hands tighten of their own volition against the fabric of his black t-shirt, your mind conjuring the mental image. “Fuck, Sehun. W-where’s the jute?”

He flashed a lopsided grin, and you felt the need to smack the smug look off of his face. How he could go from being so serious to this, was beyond you. You personally didn’t believe that The Brotherhood and The Lords of the Sect were gods, but Sehun’s duality, in situations like this, seemed to be supernatural at times, if you dared say so yourself.

He pressed his lips to yours briefly, before lightly nudging you to get off of his lap. “I’ll go get it, baby. Give me a second.”

He stood, catching his breath briefly, before walking down the hall, towards his closet. The hallway was slightly darker, and you stood, striding over to him as he pulled out the rope. He turned to face you, and he quickly cornered you against the wall.

“Shirt off. Bra, too.”

You grinned. “What are you gonna do this time?”

You could vaguely make out his features, but you knew his face was probably twisted up in smug satisfaction. Regardless, you obeyed silently, your chest rising and falling quickly with anticipation.

“Chest harness, for now,” He quipped, “Is that okay?”

You nodded, not breaking eye contact with him as you undressed yourself. You wanted him to realize that you weren’t backing down.

He seemed to read you perfectly, nodding in response to your answer as he watched you pull off the dark fabric, before reaching behind you to unclasp your bra. Even in the dim light of the corridor, you could see how his eyebrows raised and the way his lips parted slightly, lazy gaze falling down to your breasts. You knew what he was gawking at.

The studs embedded in your nipples were a dark stainless steel, glittering, alluring. You’d gotten them on a whim at nineteen from some clandestine tattoo artist on the way back from a field operation. He’d always had a bit of a fascination with them, the way they seemed to twinkle at him underneath the light.

"You gonna stare at me all night or will I have to tie myself up?”

Your playful jab snapped him out of his reverie, and he straightened his posture a few seconds later. “Go stand in front of the bed.” His voice was soft, but still commanding.

You stalked into the dark bedroom, standing in front of where you made the bed out to be. He followed you, before standing behind you. “Are you going to tie my hands up, too?"

"Not yet, starshine,” He declared quietly, into your left ear. You could tell he was untangling the jute, and you pursed your lips in anticipation. “You want to know what I’m about to do to you?”

“You know I do,” You whispered, a confession just for him, before lifting your arms and your hair for him to work.

“Too bad,” He sighed, ”Because I’m not telling you.”

You huffed, but didnt protest.

His arms began to wrap the rope below your ribcage, tightening the jute to the point where you could feel it digging into your skin, but enough to complicate your breathing. Taut, but not torturous. You closed your eyes, sighing quietly as he looped the jute higher up this time, just between your breasts and your collarbones, wrapping back to where he began, in the middle of your back.

The sensation of the rough fibers against your skin was by no means comfortable. It was scratchy and some stray fibers tickled at your chest. But its presence against your skin, the implications of its position and what was to come, was most definitely comforting. Intimacy with Sehun now was rare, you rarely even slept next to each other. But you knew that it wasn’t because of a strain in your relationship.

Sehun had always needed peace of mind and silence when it came to auguries and prophecy readings. Now, with the war coming so close to what seemed to be the end, he needed it more than ever, and the moments you shared with him came to a pause. You didn’t complain—the cause came before your emotions, now and always. But inside you were crying out for him; in concern, in longing, in yearning.

So maybe that’s why when he paused his ministrations and chuckled, tracing a finger down his spine, you whimpered quietly, thighs rubbing together in anticipation. “You have goosebumps,” He said, lips brushing against the shell of your ear.

“It’s been a while,” You answered, and he hummed in response, pressing a soft kiss to your nape. You sighed at the sensation.

“Drop your arms, and turn around to look at me,” Sehun whispered a few seconds later, and with some help from him to maneuver through the rope he was still trying to tie around you, you were able to complete his request.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous.” His voice was throaty, eyes scanning your body as you did the same, eyes landing on the growing bulge in his pants.

“Sehun, please just hurry.”

He shook his head, crooked smile still gracing his face. His hands worked quickly, looping the jute underneath the lowest rope, between your breasts.

“It’s not too tight, is it?” He asked, and you shook your head.

“It’s fine. Not too tight, not too loose.”

He nodded, eyebrows furrowing in concentration. “Okay. Let me know if it becomes too much at any point.”

“I know, Hun.”

Sehun’s dark eyes lifted their gaze from where his hands were working to meet your own, not saying anything. By now, the smile had faded, replaced by a stern look of concentration.

Be still, my heart, you thought, he is so beautiful.

“What?” You whispered, and he blinked.

His response was soft, gentle. “I would fucking die for you.”

You felt your face grow warm, and you lowered your gaze. “Sehun,” You murmured, “I—”

“Sh, sh,” He answered, continuing to tie the rope, “Listen to me, starshine. You’re it for me. There’s never been anyone else. A-and if anything happens, Lady Fate forbid it… There’ll never be anyone else.”

He finished his words as he tied off the final knot, and silently, you stood there, eyes shut as you pressed your forehead to his. For how long, you weren’t sure. Seconds, minutes, eons… Maybe no time had passed at all. You didn’t really care. Moments like these were never long enough, they always ended too soon. Sehun was your elixir of life, your lifeline, and in these moments, you felt immortal, invincible, powerful.

To be able to bring such a man like him to his knees, to be so ready to put himself on the line for you; you were sure it would be your ruin.

You surged forward, wrapping your arms around Sehun’s neck, and he caught you as you pressed your lips to his in a blazing kiss. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. You whined into the kiss, the dark cotton of his t-shirt pressing against your sensitive nipples and their piercings.

“Sehun,” You moaned into the kiss, reaching down to tug at the hem of his shirt. “N-not fair, take it off.”

He hummed, pulling away to comply with your protests, revealing toned skin and the broad shoulders you so adored.

“Is it fair now?” He asked, grabbing your upper arms to pull you closer and press kisses to your collarbones and along your sternum. “I should tie your hands now, maybe then you’ll learn you’re not allowed to touch without my permission.”

“Shut up,” You said, ignoring his declaration as he pushed you onto the bed. You peered up at his broad form, towering over you in the darkness, almost trembling in anticipation, waiting for him to put his hands on you, to make a move.

A few moments later, he finally did, reaching down to pull your pants off, as well as your underwear. He pressed soft kisses to your stomach as he did. When both garments were finally tossed aside, he lifted himself up onto the bed, lips trailing up across your skin. His eyes met yours as he gazed up at you, through you, before pressing his lips to one of your breasts, your sensitive nipples hardening at the contact of his warm mouth against the cool steel embedded in it.

Your head tipped back, eyes fluttering shut, unable to keep eye contact with your lover. One of your hands came up to comb through his dark hair, whimpering as he alternated between your nipples.

“Sehun, mmph, baby…” You murmured, coming back to look at him when he let go and came back to kiss at your jawline.

“Up, starshine,” He ordered, leaving no room for protest, arms wrapping around your waist and hauling you up to sit on his lap. As you squirmed to get comfortable in his grip, one of his hands reached for his nightstand’s drawer, and he pulled out two pastel pink silk ties. Your heart leaped towards your throat in excitement when you registered what these were, hips subconsciously searching for friction against his.

“Sit still,” He huffed as he closed the drawer, before straightening his posture, dwarfing you even sitting beneath you.

Wordlessly, he brought the tie up to your eyes, covering them before tying it at the back of your head with one tie, quickly doing the same to your hands with the other, tying them tightly in front of you.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty,” He mumbled, hands raking from your hair to down your back.

His hands came to grasp at your thighs, propping them so they rested only atop one of his. You felt your core clench at what he was alluding to, inhaling sharply.

“Move your hips, baby,” He said, and you couldn’t bring it in you to deny him.

Another thing you couldn’t do was speak, you found, as you prayed you could maintain your balance and began to slowly rock your hips against the rough fabric of his dark pants and his toned thigh, your bare pussy rubbing listlessly against the coarse fabric. You didn’t mind however, perfectly content to let him speak, murmuring strange hybrids of dirty and sweet things in your ear.

The hot pleasure between your legs seemed to double at the restriction in your ribs and not being able to see or anticipate where his hands or mouth were. You buried your head into the crook of Sehun’s neck, peppering wet, opened kisses against his collarbones, your nails digging into your palms with a vengeance in hopes of anchoring yourself to something.

The movements of your hips soon became capricious, rhythmless, your whimpers becoming louder and louder as he switched between flexing his thigh and bouncing it like a restless child. In the darkness of the silk tie, you could feel the callousness of his fingertips as they dug into your hips, a guided meditation through your pleasure.

The room reeked of incense and sex, you realized as you attempted to delay your slowly building release by focusing on different things. Smells, sounds, and finally, Sehun.

This was the Sehun you loved most, the one you cherished most in your heart. The Sehun that was so willing to give, give, and give, but not to the point of recklessness, unlike the Sehun you had seen so often lately in the war room. This Sehun was yours, and yours only. And if the growing wet spot against his rough pants was any indication, then your body loved this Sehun as well.

“S-Sehun.”

“Hmm?”

“P-please let me touch you.”

“Alright, since you asked so nicely.”

You clumsily began to search for his hard bulge, and he grabbed your tied hands and guided them to something hard and hot. You jumped slightly in surprise, not realizing he had taken himself out of his pants while you were humping away at his thigh like a bitch in heat.

He laughed at your squirming, and you slowed the rhythm of your hips in annoyance, but not completely—your hips had stopped folding to you, subconsciously rutting, twitching gently against the rough, now ruined fabric, perpetually searching for release.

“S-shut up,” You panted, and he laughed again, pressing another kiss to your jawline.

“You shut up. I still have to make you come.”

His hands resumed their leisurely movement on your hips, your focus snapping back to the impending edge, thoughts blurring into incoherency as the pleasure against your core. Mindlessly, you let go of Sehun’s member to bring your hands up to your mouth, attempting to spit crudely in order to improvise lube.

Instead, your heart jumped into your throat in arousal when Sehun grabbed your free hand and did the same, keening at his actions, eyebrows furrowing. And, despite feeling a slight annoyance at the chafing of your thighs, a feral instinct took over, and your hips sped up against his thighs.

“You look perfect like this,” He told you, guiding your hand back to where he needed you most, and you began to pump him slowly. His hands moved to wrap around your waist, large hands splaying possessively across your back.

“Gods, I wish you could see how lovely you look, starshine,” He mumbled, seemingly in a daze, “All mine.”

You nodded. “Y-yours, Hunnie. Only yours.”

He pressed a kiss to your collarbone, his breath picking up as your hands did the same, pace speeding up. He groaned against your skin as you pressed your thumb into the slit of his cock. Your movements were harsh, jerking against him as you felt yourself losing yourself in his touch.

“S-Sehun, I’m gonna…”

“I’ve got you,” He whispered, his voice your only anchor, “Let go, Y/N, it’s okay.”

Finally, finally, you crested, head tipping back, mouth falling open in a silent scream, body stiffening in his arms as you were possessed by pleasure. In the dark, colors danced around you, sounds could be touched, Sehun’s hands on your body tasted exquisite.

You didn’t even realize that your display had tipped Sehun over the edge, spilling himself onto your hands while he gripped your shoulders like his life depended on it.

When you came down from your orgasm, your chest heaving, you reached up to pull the blindfold off of your face, struggling slightly as you were still restrained by the silk tie. You blinked a few times, eyes adjusting to the light of Sehun’s room, and found that he had fallen back onto the bed in the height of his orgasm.

His eyes had fluttered closed, panting furiously. He seemed loose, almost boneless, and you stifled a laugh at how much more relaxed he seemed now.

“I take it you had fun?” You asked, poking his stomach teasingly. After a moment of silence, of what you assumed to be Sehun trying to catch his breath, you furrowed your eyebrows.

“Hunnie, come on, get up. Can you untie me, please, baby?”

No response. If anything, Sehun’s pants seemed to be getting even heavier.

“Sehun?”

His eyes fluttered open, and your blood ran cold.

His eyes had rolled up into his head, mouth opening and closing as if he were trying to say something but he’d lost his voice. Around you, the temperature seemed to drop.Out of nowhere, the scent of incense returned, stronger than ever, and beneath you, Sehun tensed, muscles contracting as he began to seize.

You froze, momentarily unsure of what was happening. Here lay your lover, convulsing under you, and you were restrained to a point where it would be difficult to help him. Panic creeped into your stomach, eyes searching for something, anything, that would get you out of the grasp of the silk tie. You brought your wrists up to your teeth, frantically hoping to loosen the knot. Sehun was still convulsing. Your eyes drifted around the room, glancing at his stiff hands, gnarled into unrecognizable gestures. Your clothes were on the floor, but you had left your knife in your room.

Knife. Sehun’s knife.

You lunged for the nightstand, knowing that was where he kept his switchblade in case of an emergency, tumbling to the floor as your legs gave out, still wobbly from both panic and your previous orgasm. You managed to open the drawer, clumsily fumbling for the blade, before pulling it out, holding it between your teeth and bringing your wrists up to your mouth, beginning to saw away at the lovely, pale fabric, suddenly not caring about its softness or its illusion of luxury.

All you needed was to know that Sehun was okay.

Your eyes squeezed shut at the thought that he might be dying, and when the final strands of silk finally gave way, you practically spat out the knife, grabbing onto the nightstand for balance, turning to look at Sehun on your weak legs.

He wasn’t on the bed anymore. Your eyebrows furrowed, head spinning as you tried to figure out what was going on.

“Beware the master of tongues.”

You shrieked, eyes snapping up from where the deep, almost demonic voice had come from, and almost fainted then and there.

Because somehow, Sehun was floating above you, suspended in midair, eyes open wide but not a sliver of brown could be seen. In its place shone a bright silver, the holiest of metals for the unholiest sight.

“Beware the master of tongues,” The voice spoke again, speaking through Sehun, who was stiff as a board, face contorted into a sneer, and you realized with a chill that this wasn’t Sehun, but rather the Oracle.

“Beware the master of tongues,” He said once more, as his sneer morphed into a cruel grin, “But beware more the wrath of the faceless one.”

#kpop scenarios #kpop smut #kpop imagines #kpop x reader #kpop au #exo x reader #exo scenarios #exo smut #exo imagines #sehun x reader #sehun smut #sehun scenarios #my writing #fic: aygaf

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nocturnegloam · 5 years ago

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Here in the midwest United States, the chilly morning mists are currently giving way to the sunrise set behind overcast, on the passing of this spring equinox, Alban Eiler, and Ostara, among its many other names. There is a distinct and special liminality which the vernal equinox possesses. The day and night come in perfect balance, as light and warmth prepare to inherit the Earth.

As life cultivates in all its forms and motions, so do we. Even in the current global climate, we find ways to adapt and revive with tenacity. Now may be a time more befitting than ever to celebrate and appreciate the fire within our hearts, and circulate our feelings of love, inspiration, motivation, and gratitude through the collective.

Of course, it is essential that in celebrating the passing of the seasons, we remain considerate of all life in our observance. This remains especially true during the current pandemic. Try not turn to fret in haste, though—even in the face of life’s uncertainty, we can find inspiration, clarification, comfort, growth, direction, balance, protection, personal action, and more.

Even for the best of us, the world will always procure unexpected circumstance, such as the current pandemic. When the life we share urgently calls, planning for things that may be deeply sacred to us may slip through our fingers. We should not let this “ebb” of the natural ebb and flow discourage us on our sabbatical or spiritual journey, lest our practices become “chores”, rather than extraordinary connections with ourselves and the beyond. The “ebb” is there to teach us something, to urge us to look deeply within ourselves. Even when the state of the world becomes seemingly inextricable, our sabbatical and spiritual practices can remain as mechanisms of divine retreat and reinvigoration.

Last night, when reading tarot, I pulled The World. Through quite a bit of reflection with this absolutely evocative card, I came to the conclusion that I wanted to help my small locale reconnect with the Earth and its seasons. To help them reconnect with their deepest selves as authentically as possible. To be a small catalyst, and a gentle guide on a path they walk all their own.

Originally, this post was only going to be a simple list of ideas on how to celebrate this equinox during the pandemic, with social distancing and conservation of supplies (mainly food) in mind. I.e, you’ll need no more supplies than yourself and what you’ve already got at hand. In truth, that is still all it's going to be, following these paragraphs. But after meditating this morning, I felt I should share deeper insight in the simple hopes it might inspire someone else. Or, just simply cheer them up.

To whoever reads this, this is for you—and I hope you have a splendid spring equinox. I hope you can make it something all your own. I hope you find healing, revitalization, balance and more.

Best regards, Sierra

Ideas for the observation and celebration of the spring equinox/Alban Eiler/Ostara, with the pandemic, social distancing, and food conservation in mind:

General correspondences:

Colors: Pastels, green, yellow, and pink.

Plants: Comprehensive list here.

Trees: Birch, ash, and alder.

Animals: Hares, snakes, birds, baby animals, caterpillars, ladybugs, and bees.

Crystals: Ultimately up to your own discretion, color correspondences work just fine. Specific crystals can include quartz (clear and rose), aquamarine, moonstone, jade, amethyst, and more.

Incense: Anything floral, light, fresh, or sweet-smelling.

Element: Air

Symbols: Eggs, hare/snake/bird guarding an egg, spring flowers, feathers, sprouts, shamrocks, and trefoils/trinities/triplicities.

Themes: Light, balance, cleansing and healing, feminimity, fertility, fruition and abundance, love and attraction, blessing the home.

Decorate your altar with the holiday correspondences! Ideas for items to include are potted plants, crystals, ribbons, budding branches, dried flowers or herbs, clovers, a small glass of milk and honey, baskets, seed packets, incense and feathers, and figurines of deities or baby animals.

If you don’t have any of these items readily available, replace them with themed drawings, paintings, or your own creations for the equinox. Make your altar as simple as you need to. Right now, social distancing and food conservation are more important than picking up a few extra supplies.

When you get hungry, you can make meals including fresh fruits, spring greens and vegetables, sweets (especially cakes), nuts and seeds, floral teas, lemonade, eggs, fish, and more.

Leave offerings of non-crucial supplies to deities, the Fae, spirits, ancestors, familiars, the element of air, or any other relevant entity of your choice. Write them a short poem, prayer, letter, etc. Take a moment to center yourself. Read your prose and give the offering, and express gratitude for their guidance. If you wish, burn a candle or incense in their name, as well.

Perform a ritual to commune with your entities of choice, or to your deepest self. Or, the ritual can be performed to welcome spring into your life and into your home. It can be as simple or elaborate as you wish. When communing, focus on the theme correspondences I listed above if you would like a targeted ritual for the holiday.

Perform your favorite form of divination, and ask questions/seek guidance relating to the themes of the equinox. Here are some examples:

What seeds should I plant to grow into my fullest fruition?

Who or what aspect of my life brings me warmth and growth, like the sun itself?

What can I do to make my mind as clear as the snow melt streams?

What has this winter taught me?

What parts of myself should be reborn, and what parts of myself should melt away?

How can I nurture new opportunities?

Make equinox water by leaving a bowl of water outside from sunrise until noon. Or, set it out at the exact time or the equinox and leave it outside overnight. You can use this as a spell component later.

Make a symmetrical crystal grid to symbolize balance, and to charge your crystals. Bonus points if you make it in the shape of an equinox-related symbol, such as a clover. Put a candle in the center of the grid to symbolize growing light. You can chant, sing, play an instrument, pray, or use a singing bowl or chimes for additional charging. If you have enough salt on hand, surround your crystal grid with it, and this will help with cleansing your crystals as well. If your crystals are safe with water (do your research!), you can also cleanse them with salt water, spell water, or moon water spray, for a mess-free cleanse. You could also waft incense smoke over them, if you wish.

Dilute your favorite floral, fresh, or sweet essential oils, herbs, and salt in plenty of water, to make a cleansing spray, or to add to mop water for spring cleaning. Make sure to enchant the mixture with visualization or other techniques. Say a prayer or chant over it, or repeat a strong and specific statement of intention over it three times. There are other methods you can use to activate it, as well. Be safe and do your research when using any essential oils and herbs. Essential oils DO NOT replace proper disinfecting supplies.

Spring cleaning: Sweep, dust, scrub, and mop, finish the laundry, change your home’s air filters, organize your pantry and refrigerator, rearrange your furniture, etc. all while practicing visualization. Chanting or singing, or incorporating spell components when cleaning helps, too.

Take part in your favorite meditations and breathing exercises for basic grounding and clearing. Pro-tip, doing this outside (where you aren’t in contact with anyone else) is extremely helpful in connecting with the season. If you can’t go outside, turn on nature audio tracks or springtime fantasy music.

Write down your wishes and goals for the next six months, and record your reflection of today’s holiday. Hide or bury the list somewhere (you can bury it in a fake egg if you want to be festive). It is said to be good luck to wish upon the spring equinox in this way, and to plant your goals like seeds to grow over the next six months. Excavate it at the next equinox, and look back on your reflections and what you have accomplished.

Perform general item enchantments, or enchant pastel-colored clothing, accessories, or makeup items with glamour or attraction magic. Choose any attribute related to the spring equinox, that you would like others to see in you when you wear this specific item. Or, enchant the item to attract people with those attributes. There are a number of ways you can perform enchantments. My favorite process for enchantment is as follows:

Pick the item. Cleanse it with salt water, moon water, smoke, the light of the full moon, a clear quartz crystal, or clearing visualizations. Then, charge the item with sunlight, sound, or burying.

Place a ward on the item. First, cast a circle to block outside influence, if you wish. Then, place the object near protective “enhancers” (crystals, herbs, etc. if you have them, this is by no means required). Finally, say a prayer, chant, or repeat a strong and specific statement of protection over the item while visualizing a protective sheath around it. When finished, announce your conclusion. Break the circle, or, move on to the next step. Alternatively to all of this, you can create a protection sigil (don’t forget to charge and seal it after you create it), let the object sit on the sigil overnight, and destroy the sigil the next day. This will also place a protective ward on the item.

Enchant the item. This process is similar to warding, but rather than focusing on statements of protection, you are focusing on your statement of intention. Ask yourself questions like: What do you want others to see in you when you wear this enchanted object? What perspectives and energy do you want to dispel? What do you want to attract in others? Cast a circle with your corresponding intention “enhancers” (crystals, herbs, sigils, etc), if you wish, and answer those questions. Use your answers to come up with a strong and specific statement of intention, a prayer, chant, etc. While reciting your choice of prose over the object, visualize the energy from yourself and your “enhancers” entering the object. When the collective energy reaches a peak, drive the last of the energy into the object and announce your conclusion. Seal the item with a good squeeze, a splash of salt/moon water, or a dash of salt. Take a moment to center and ground yourself with the object, and break your circle. Your enchantment is complete.

Create or perform other types of spells (there is no way I could list all of them) with the equinox theme correspondences I listed above. Here are more general ideas for what I couldn’t encompass in this post:

Examples of types of spells: Blessing or consecreation spells for the self and home. Love and attraction spells. Cleansing and healing spells. Warding and protection spells. Spells for restoration of personal balance. Spells for fertility (for the surrounding land, or the self). Enchant items to make charms, amulets, or talismans with attributes relating to the spring equinox, etc.

Examples of types of magic: Air elemental magic, crystal magic, tea magic, bath spells and rituals, jar/satchet magic, glamour magic, sex magic, hearth magic, plant magic, knot magic, poppet magic, sigil magic, planetary magic, astrological magic, sorcery and summoning magic, deity/ancestor work, faerie magic, hedge magic, divination magic, and more.

Please feel free to use any of these ideas, to adapt them in your own ways, or to add on more ideas, information, or recommendations! Happy equinox to you all.

#spring equinox #alban eiler #ostara #ostara ideas #wheel of the year #pagan #mine

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panoptiphobia · 5 years ago

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Midwest Emo’s obsession with “the backyard” and other lyrical themes.

Given the state of things I want to write something trivial. Something I’ve been thinking a lot about. The lyrical content of a lot of bands making up the resurgence of the Midwest emo (with and/or without twinkly math riffs) sound have some recurring themes that seem to pinpoint a certain experience of suburban upbringing in the 90s-2010s. And that upbringing would not have been complete without a backyard. Sometimes a pool. Definitely not an in-ground pool.

There is something to be resuscitated in the working class identity of math rock, the spirit of that second story window from American Football’s LP. The lyrical themes and the melancholy sound itself revolve around a Midwestern working class identity most of us fled when we went to university. It lives on in the dreary sound of those descending sketches of notes and solemn-- but somehow sunny-- key changes.

If we could construct a sketch of the math rock kid, I imagine he/she works in the gig economy, or tends bar, or serves coffee, working in spaces deemed “hipster” while not quite having the money to enjoy all the frills of the social life that label entails. They wear double denim, carhart, and boots, but mostly because that’s what working people they grew up with wore around them. You can swap in certain items as makes sense with the weather. They drink craft beers but are just as comfortable with the $3 PBRs at the math shows in question. The Math Kid is apolitical but is stoked to vote for Bernie. Come to think of it they were actually quite politically minded while attending a Big Ten state school, but gig economy wore them down into reading political blogs. Maybe they listen to Democracy Now!, but NPR will do. Their book shelves are full of radical literature, but their politics are of the Punknews.org/OrgCore variety: drink brews and go to shows with your buds, cause damn the man. I love Math Kid, in case you were wondering. Math Kid is me, if I hadn’t moved to such an expensive city. Math kid lives in old houses with wood floors, house plants and bicycles. Math Kid will learn around 25 that he should drink sparkling water, run, and do yoga. Wait, that’s Surfgaze Kid. Math kid is my ideal version of my 20s if I had stayed in the Midwest. But he’s so so sad and hates the snow, doesn’t he? I digress.

I want to say that understanding the political messaging buried in the Math/Midwest Emo resurgence means finding the messages of alienation hidden in sappy lyrical content. It means finding the political in the cries of liberation that come with youthful yawps at the changing of the leaves. Most people will eye-roll their way out. But this is for Math Kid:

What I want to say is that math rock and midwest emo/twinkly math riff indie rock, punk etc. Elides a working class sensibility. Of course the lyrical content circles around the basic punk/emo-inspired themes of failed romances, house parties with friends, and the like--but the frequency of mentions of house parties and backyards reveals a kind of working class sentiment about leisure and the work lives of math rock kids.

Think about this example from American Beauty’s “The Gang Gets Emo” off their self-titled January, 2020 EP:

I fell asleep in your backyard all alone. I can’t help falling in love with you.

Now look at this example from Charmer, a band from Michigan who put out this banger of a preview to their upcoming album, “Ivy” (Expected April, 2020). The dudes in Charmer are really fixated on the backyard. The track, “Slumber” contains several of the lyrical themes comprising what I’d put forth as the working-to-middle class ethos of the math-aligned punk sub-genres:

I've been thinking about grad school Maybe I should talk to you Drowning in your heated pool Somewhere between death and missing you.

Slumber in the summer

Enjoy your Ivy League hell Wonder when I was younger Where I thought I'd be now Will you last the cold? Cherish the raindrops on your window I'll learn to let this go Until I fall.

In this I read our Math Kid hero’s disdain for the one that got away--got away to go off to an Ivy league school. No longer are the days of summer in her comparatively wealthy parents’ heated pool. Math Kid can’t go to Harvard, he’s barely passing his creative writing class in community college.

From Charmer’s self-titled 2018 album, the track “Roy’s Our Boy” has some of the same themes regarding

1) the front/backyard:

You know where I hide my keys on my front porch to my front door I'm passed out on my trampoline Just wishing things were like they were before.

2) attending or dropping out of higher education:

Just look at the dead leaves Crumbling beneath our feet And that first semester wasn't good for me I get nervous so I bite the sides of my cheeks I won't notice 'til my mouth begins to bleed

The academic calendar of the North American university system is a frequent topic of emo revival lyrics. Maybe it has something to do with the immense emotional weight of the privilege of going to college: one should go discover exactly what type of interesting person they should become. At least 80% of Charmer songs reference university in some fashion. College is the place to fall in and out of love with other big fish from small ponds. There’s at least one requisite college breakup buoying all middle class sensitive people’s entire personality. “The best four years of your life.” College was great, and twinkly passages definitely send my mind back to walking home from class on Fall days, and walking home (alone) from parties. But sometimes you weren’t alone, and that’s the gist of this midwest emo spirit.

From American Beauty’s first album, the track “Fake Weddings”:

“In the backseat of your car was the best night of my life I fell in love in a small bed in a New Brunswick dorm.”

It’s also something to be disdained and endured, apparently. An entire track off the self-titled album is titled “Pretty Over College.” My guess is it’s not the curriculum, housing, or the dining facilities that are bumming him out.

There also seems to be a problem for Math Kids coping with the loss of love interests coming and going from their respective campuses. There’s a lot of “Turkey Dump” type anxiety and the time spent over Spring Breaks is a time of reflection over that first year and the feasibility of LDR’s.

From Charmer’s “Nurse Joy”:

Are you having fun? Spending your spring break at home for a month? You never told anyone

The college life is a big emotional hurdle, and people in their early 30s are still writing and twinkling over lyrics about it. This is not to trivialize, but more to celebrate the shared (albeit, privileged) experiences of growing into adults through college life.

Now let’s talk about transportation:

American Beauty has a whole host of lines about traveling from one part of the East Coast to another:

Carolina, are you here for good? Have you given up passing out in subway cars? I've endured your words every night since then. I’m just hoping you’re still in love with me.

There is something so satisfying about hearing Math Kid scream the name of an interstate in anthemic wail. Again from “The Gang Gets Emo,”:

Long drives down I-95. 200 miles of your favorite songs. Train rides up to Boston, but the ride back is always so long.

From Charmer’s “Nurse Joy” again:

So I slept the whole ride home To a playlist of high school songs I know you'll leave so what's the use

I’ve driven some people to and from college. Some to airports. Some to international fights. LDR’s, I’ve had one that turned into my happy marriage. But man, some long drives with partners in a shaky situation are brutal. Definitely something to wail a chorus over.

These are my crazy quarantine ramblings over Midwest emo (with twinkling math riffs) lyrical themes.

#midwest emo #twinklymathriffs #twinklingmathriffs #math rock #mathrock #Americanbeauty #charmer #americanfootball #emo #midwest

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notsoaveragjoe · 5 years ago

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Cereal and Self-Love

This post is brought to you by caffeine and Meijer’s Its not-even-fall-yet-halloween-themed Boo-Berry Cereal.

Hey, real talk for a second. I...

Wait, I don’t need to apologize, its my blog.

(Good Mojo, love your emotions for who you are)

I was going to apologize for not posting more regularly. When I started this blog, I tried to do the ‘post every week’ sort of deal, but one thing leads to another and its becomes over a month. I realized that I didn’t promise the void Im typing into anything. Since life is fun and busy and wild, I’ll just promise that whenever I have things worth saying, but am unsure who to say it to, I’ll put it up here in the hopes that someone who appreciates my crazy comes along.

It is currently 2 am on a crisp early September evening in northwest Ohio’s 2nd fake falls of the year. Twas hanging out with one of my housemates after the others went to bed the other day (ie tonight) and we were having a night jamming on the keyboard and having fun with its pre-recorded tracks. I quickly realized that I had not had that much fun in a long time. Being my unadulterated self was a really liberating experience. To be fair, I do take myself a bit too serious most of the time.

Well, school has kicked into full swing and I have big hopes for this coming semester before the spring semester on par to freshman year of college (a bad year--I promise you). Right now, I am taking a good number of ensembles (like 5) and my quartet is looking to do a big competition in the world of classical saxophone. With my new library job, the podcast in the works, and only 3 academic classes, I am excited to see what all I can do when I have time to both focus on my work and have a social life.

Which reminds me; boys. Ugh BOYS!

(I digress)

An article that my school wrote about me that I actually wrote myself about myself and my summer was just posted, and got some cool feedback from my friends, which is cool. I also applied for other grant funding to do more research (which reminds me, I need to do the IRB thing), which I am still waiting for, but if done, then I will have a project that I can work under for literal YEARS into the beginning of my career. This makes me hopeful that this project gets approved so that I can get started on the work that I hope to do with folk music communities. I am also trying to stay connected to the scene now that I am back in the midwest, as I miss being surrounded by people who are also interested in folk music. There are ideas floating in my mind about my musical future after college and how to make it align with my academic future that are much easier to see when not drowning in conservatory life.. Scary stuff y’all.

I helped multiple underclassmen sort out their schedules and lives in order to maintain their physical and mental healths while staying on track to graduate. This just made my heart so happy because I have seen a noticeable difference in the way they interact with one another and they seem to be more relaxed in daily activities. Also,I was able to reach out to two different friends to teach them about meditation and how to take care of your mind. I am grateful forever to the few upperclassmen who took me under their wings my first (ish) year(s) here at school and helped me figure my life out. I hope that their lives are better for it. (woah, just had a flashback to a few moments with a friend who everyone thought was weird, but I did not see it. I now realize the types of stressors he was under at this point in his last year and how amazing it is that he was willing to reach out to me like that. Damn, I wish we hadn’t lost contact when he graduated. What a good friend. Now he runs a big band program in Texas. If you see this, thanks The Dolehammer).

I am working at the library now and managed to leave the admissions office and this has also been a wise decision. Though I had originally thought I may want to become a music librarian, I now know that I do not. Though it is unlikely that this will become my vocation, it is still a great job for me at the moment. Though it is tiring and has its own cultural issues within the job that I do not have the urge to decipher yet, it is a very. very. very. calm and low-stress environment. exactly what I need. In this way, it is So. Refreshing. to be able to shut my mind off for a few hours a week to just sing the alphabet song a lot and decipher numbers instead of reading sheet music, practicing, performing, and rehearsing all of the music I am currently working on. The most refreshing part is that I get to do it surrounded by stacks and stacks of sheet music, cd’s, and LP’s.

So, everything is cool for now, I guess.

Oh the CEREAL!

Basically, when I was eating cereal this evening, I realized why getting sugary cereal for myself was such a great moment of impulsive self-love as a grand gesture from myself to myself to let me know I care about myself. (Awe shucks, Mojo (Blush).

In Other Words: I’M THRIVING

-♥️ Mojo

#self love #cereal #music #college #music school #queer #saxophone #friends #mentors #me #mine #posts #words #research #september #fall #library

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emberfaye · 6 years ago

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Mr. Eyecandy and the Last Day of School

So talking with @ohmypreciousgirl and was reminded of this story and felt the need to share.

So, early in high school (Freshman and sophomore years especially) I was the definition of “painfully shy”. I was lucky in that I had two extremely amazing core groups of friends: One in person and one online.

So I don’t know when exactly, but early into my sophomore (10th grade) year, I noticed this extremely cute guy. Like, tall dark and handsome. And since I was a pretty tall girl and he was taller than me, like, yum. At first I just played around and joked about him being “eyecandy for the poor students in this school” but then I did something like ridiculously stupid.

I said ooh and fell in love I caught a bad case of “a crush”. And I was head over heels.

Because like, I’m observant okay? And Mr. Eyecandy was everywhere. We had lockers about 10 or so apart. He shared a class with my best friend (Honors btw). Our fifth periods were two doors down from each other, and our first periods were on the way to our second periods and we had to cross to get to them. Our lunch periods were clsoe together. So I noticed shit.

And this dude was not just aesthetically pleasing, but he had a great laugh and voice. He was super smart, judging by his classes. Had a group of friends that looked super happy. Blah blah blah, all sorts of positive traits okay?

And somewhere around Thanksgiving he got a girlfriend.

Bummer. Whatever. I did not have any intention of ever letting him know I had a crush on him, because like I said. Painfully shy. However.

My friends? Super not shy.

Pre girlfriend, my best friend who shared a class with him started calling him Mr. EC but wouldn’t tell him why. And she was a theatre friend so like, she had no qualms doing so loudly.

Another friend even pushed me into him one time. I was fucking mortified. I’m sure there were other occurances but those were the ones that stand out to me.

So sometime in the spring, it starts to feel like maybe, just maybe, he was staring back.

I do nothing because a) I don’t fucking tell people I have crushes on them what is that fake news? and b)he still has girlfriend.

And then the end of the school year rolls around, and the last week of school comes.

and I notice that Mr. Eyecandy’s girlfriend leaves 4th period crying. Separately from him (They always walked out together, he even held her books)

And then. The last full day of school.

Mr. Eyecandy, the confident one in his friend group, is lurking behind his best friend, who asks to take a picture of us (my bestie who called him mr. ec and me). Mr. Eyecandy looks at me, eyes meet, he turns away (possibly blushing). The picture is taken, his friend thanks us, and they walk away.

Summer starts.

Summer ends.

Mr. Eyecandy and I still don’t talk to each other, I never find out why or who the picture was taken for, and eventually my crush faded.

Still. So random to think there’s a picture floating around somewhere with this dude I barely spoke to.

Life is so funny, weird, and amazing sometimes.

Updated:

I just remembered. I saw him once, at a party in college where I was with a different best friend and my newish boyfriend. We got in a group picture together, he was sitting next to me. Last I heard he lives in like the Midwest somewhere with his dog.

#personal #storytime #mr. eyecandy #plot bunny #imagine your otp #memories

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gravelcruiser · 6 years ago

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I had developed a fool proof training plan for the ALMANZO 100 in Spring Hill, MN and was calling it "Couch to 160k." It mimicked in premise the couch to 5k program that aspiring runners use to overcome the uncertainties of doing their first running race. Start small by, in my case, getting my butt out of my desk chair and pedalling around the block. Then slowly build over the course of weeks, doing longer and longer rides, until I’d be ready for race day and fit enough to ride 100 miles. It is a proven strategy for building fitness. I started the program with a solid base of couch sitting. Then skipped everything in the middle, finishing my training by showing up on the day of the ride with about ten miles in my legs total. I needed to find a supplemental plan.

That plan came in the form of an orange jumpsuit, a hidden cave and hopes of a swimming hole. My friend Stevil, his long time friend Gene and I took stock of ourselves and knew what position we were racing for. We were going to win DFL, figuring it the best way to embrace our lack of fitness and own our place within the group. We’d bring up the rear with high fives and smiles while racing for the title we deserved and hold dear. In order to keep ourselves committed to our quest of finding enlightenment through mediocrity, we listened to the firing of the start gun from a parking lot five blocks away. A hero's welcome was ours for the taking from the lingering crowd as we coasted down an empty mainstreet. The lead out police car even flipped a u-turn to escort us across the re-opened highway.

For a town of 2,425 people this annual bike ride comes in second only to independence day and the folks living along the first mile of course had been sitting at their curb all morning eagerly anticipating the parade of cyclists. And with all the love only a small town can give, there were many still waiting for the stragglers as we rolled through, cheering us on to a victory we'd never had a sliver of a chance of getting.

We stopped to slap fives with neighborhood kids. We took pictures with the lead-out ambulance. We helped and offered help to the numerous mechanical casualties already along the course. We picked up a lot of trash and then at 8 miles made a call for the rescue of a fallen and injured rider. When at ten miles we stopped to take pictures with a family cheering people on from the end of their driveway, we'd later learn the leaders were already approaching the first aid station 40 miles in. The disparity in our paces was remarkable, but earning DFL is hard work and takes that special kind of extra effort.

The ride into Preston and the first aid station at mile 40 was wonderful. Our spirits high, the weather pleasant and the riding sublime. The rolling terrain of the midwest was not yet baring its’ teeth. Screaming down the backside of a hill and rolling out the gained momentum on the frontside of the next had not yet lost its novelty or become painful. The three of us rotated through periods of conversation and solo pedalling. A nice balance of being social and meditative all the way into the checkpoint where booze and refreshments were already the norm. Things were still looking pretty good, we were almost halfway through, feeling good and continuing to bring up the rear.

I left a little bit before my buddies who were sneaking in one last round of party and assured them they would catch me slow rolling in just a handful of miles. That single grip turned into all my fingers and toes before they caught me settling into a nap in a cemetery. They had roped in a new friend Hurl who seemed to make our gang even merrier. We weren’t trading places in the paceline to gain an edge speed wise, rather the rotation promoted new conversation and a healthy mix of topic. We rode this wave all the way into the picnic shelter of mile 68. The warmest greeting so far, this oasis in the shade of an oak grove had every amenity a bike rider could ask for. Spicy pickles, ice cold domestic lager, friendly dogs to pet, well mannered babies to hold and a barbecue with flaming hot weiners.

It was a party we were sad to leave, but when you've made a commitment to bring the party to the entire course, you can't stop early. So, reluctantly we got up to try to spread their fun further up course. As we climbed up out of the state part the wind started to shift on our idyllic bike ride and we stopped one final time to visit with our final support vehicle. We had just over thirty miles to go.

"How far do we have left?" "34 miles." "Cool. It is just like if I rode to work and realized that I forgot my lunch and then rode home. Then I ride back to work and realize I forgot my keys so I have to ride home again. Then I ride back to work but half way there realize it is Saturday and ride to the bar instead. That's not too bad..." When Stevil put it that way, it didn't seem too bad either, but in the back of my mind I knew I was falling apart.

We kept it together until the water crossing, faking good spirits. Our failing joviality became transparent when we didn't enjoy what would have been a solid swimming pool. Crossing the stream we didn't linger, silent heads down, climbing out of the streams low point. Cresting the hill and crossing the highway we were presented with what was to be our misery for the next twenty miles, loose, newly laid gravel that rolled upward into the horizon. Suddenly, finishing in five hours instead of nine sounded awesome.

Finding a friend in Gene suddenly proved to be an amazing acquaintance to make. Turns out DFL for him is more of a lifestyle and less a fitness choice. As Stevil and I imploded he took charge and ushered us up the road. The miles, although painful, ticked by remarkable quickly when all I focused on was keeping my front tire tucked, only inches, neatly behind his rear as we sped over the uneven surface.

We came up on a crossroads and I stopped short. My group hesitated and turned left. I took one look, unconvinced at the hill they were starting to descend and knew I was gonna lose it and blubber like a baby if I had to come back up that hill after a wrong turn. I pulled out the cue sheet to verify their route and found it to be correct, but more importantly, the turn was marked at mile 93.7. We had less than ten miles to go. One trip to work.

We were rolling on a bike path around the outside of a wastewater treatment plant when I blurted out, "Where the fuck is this town!" I had been constantly scanning the horizon for a water tower for the last hour. Both my body and mind were ending this ride soon whether or not there was a finish line. Then, as if dropped from the heavens, we rounded a corner and a woman with a bullhorn sweetly called out my number to the record keeping gods cementing me as an official finisher of the ALMANZO 100. We lost our race, many people finishing behind us, the coveted DFL earned by a more worthy racer. Even if we hadn't won our race, I was certain we won an amazing day on the bike, made a whole host of new friends and destroyed our knees, back and neck for at least a week.

#shimanogravel

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thisweekingundamwing · 7 years ago

Text

This Week in Gundam Wing Dec. 10th - 16th 2017!

Hello everyone! Hope your holiday season is going well!

Here’s what’s been happening in the Gundam Wing fandom this past week!

~Mod Hel.

Fanfiction:

@amberlyinviolet, @yourbloodlikewine

In This Light, Chapter 3: Eli

http://archiveofourown.org/works/12386715/chapters/28402484

Duo x OC, Trowa x OC, Solo x OC. AU, child abuse mention, Sexual Assault Mention, homophobic parents, Re-Written Characters, Drug Use, Violence, off screen murder

Duo spent the last semester working in his older brother's coffee shop. He's resigned himself to a boring spring when a stranger appears, shaking up his entire life.Eli left home last fall, choosing to spend the last six months living out of his van on his travels from the Midwest to the East Coast. By the time he arrives at Ink's, the novelty of traveling alone has started to wear off. Still, the last thing he's expecting is to meet someone who's going to change all that for him

@anaranesindanarie

Life isn’t Fair http://archiveofourown.org/works/12968199

M/M, Mystery - Relationship

mystery - Character

Death, Tears, Crying, all the feels, Mystery Characters - Freeform, you pick the characters

Life isn't fair. You don't always get a chance to say goodbye before a loved one is snatched away forever.

@chronicwhimsy

Saudade (Ch. 14) http://archiveofourown.org/works/11352189/chapters/29734539

Warnings: Underage

Relationships: Trowa Barton/Quatre Raberba Winner

Characters: Trowa Barton, Duo Maxwell, Quatre Raberba Winner, Catherine Bloom, Heero Yuy, Chang Wufei

Additional Tags: Trowa is a good bro, Duo is a terrible bro, but he tries very hard, Confident!Quatre, circus shenanigans, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, thin line between being a good wingman and interfering, Mentions of Underage Sex, Underage Drinking, Duo and Trowa Bromance 5eva

Series: Part 1 of Slowly Moving Forwards

Summary: Wufei finally arrives in Budapest, for a brief stop that has a bigger impact than he realises.

DarkPanthress

No Other Way (Ch. 23: Snippet 2) https://www.fanfiction.net/s/8219920/23/No-Other-Way

There have been a lot of clichéd stories. This is picking some clichés and just dumping them into a new version of the story. Heero needs an out from a difficult situation with Relena, and the out seems to be a fake engagement!

@duointherain

Not Quite Single (Ch. 8) http://archiveofourown.org/works/12786444/chapters/29732475

M/M, Multi

Fandoms: Gundam Wing, Captain America (Movies)

Relationships: Duo Maxwell/Heero Yuy, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers

Characters: Duo Maxwell, Duo Maxwell Jr., Hilde Schbeiker, Heero Yuy, Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes

Duo has some time in Purgatory.

FireCats20

THE SIREN OF ATLANTIS (Ch. 4) http://archiveofourown.org/works/12938835/chapters/29741259

F/M, Multi

Fandoms: Yu-Gi-Oh!, Gundam Wing, Yu-Gi-Oh! Series, Yu-Gi-Oh! GX, Yu-Gi-Oh! 5D's, Yu-Gi-Oh! ARC-V

Relationships: m/f - Relationship, M/F/M - Relationship

Characters: Kaiba Seto, Mutou Yuugi, Bakura Ryou, Marik Ishtar, Otogi Ryuuji | Duke Devlin, Heero Yuy, Quatre Raberba Winner, Duo Maxwell, Trowa Barton, Chang Wufei, Yugo (Yu-Gi-Oh), Yuto (Yu-Gi-Oh), Yuri (Yu-Gi-Oh), Sakaki Yuya, Fudou Yuusei, Yuuki Juudai | Jaden Yuki, Johan Andersen | Jesse Anderson, Crow Hogan, Edo Phoenix | Aster Phoenix, Marufuji Ryou | Zane Truesdale, Marufuji Shou | Syrus Truesdale

Alternate Universe, BDSM, Human Trafficking, Reverse Harem, Humiliation, Rape, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Murder, Underage Sex, Underage Drinking, Past Life Flashbacks, Consensual Underage Sex, Attempted Murder, Blood Kink, Torture

HeavenMayBurn

Stranieri in terra straniera http://archiveofourown.org/works/13012710

Heero Yuy, Duo Maxwell, Trowa Barton, Quatre Raberba Winner, Chang Wufei, Relena Peacecraft

Language: Italiano

Wufei sposta lo sguardo verso i suoi amici, e vorrebbe domandargli come hanno fatto ad essere certi di fare la cosa giusta, durante quegli ultimi giorni. Vorrebbe chiedere se erano certi di appartenere al posto in cui sarebbero tornati, o se la guerra non fosse ormai entrata sotto la loro pelle.

Vorrebbe chiedere a Heero quale sia il suo posto, se davvero pensava che fosse possibile smettere di combattere per persone come loro.

@kangofu-cb

Lunch Date

https://kangofu-cb.tumblr.com/post/168506599562/lunch-date

So this is a small little, stupid thing that I’ve drummed up for @claraxbarton because Reasons and also because I’ve shamelessly stolen her theater!Trowa and… whatever it’s vaguely Christmas-y because I wanted to write something quick and festive and anyway it’s below the cut.

Warnings: cavity-inducing fluff, un-beta’d

Pairings: 2x3, because always

East of Eden (Ch. 7)

http://archiveofourown.org/works/12591796/chapters/29750499

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Duo Maxwell/Quatre Raberba Winner, eventual - Relationship, Chang Wufei/Duo Maxwell/Quatre Raberba Winner, some side, Trowa Barton/Heero Yuy, and maybe some, Long Meilan/Hilde Schbeiker

Characters: Duo Maxwell, Chang Wufei, Heero Yuy, Trowa Barton, Quatre Raberba Winner, Zechs Merquise, Treize Khushrenada, Hilde Schbeiker, Long Meilan

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Fae & Fairies, Vampires, Were-Creatures, Blood and Violence, Sex, Magic, Angst, Death, Canon-Typical Violence

Chapter 7: My Religion, Mostly porn. Some explanation. Everyone gets a birthday! And porn. Loads of porn.

Kayura_sanada

By Your Side (Ch. 8) http://archiveofourown.org/works/12948579/chapters/29771868

M/M, Duo Maxwell/Heero Yuy, Trowa Barton/Quatre Raberba Winner

Duo Maxwell, Heero Yuy, Chang Wufei, Trowa Barton, Quatre Raberba Winner, Sally Po, Lady Une, Relena Peacecraft

Animal Transformation, Pining, Post-Canon, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Friendship

If Duo wants to be human again, there's a certain ingredient needed for the recipe. The pilots head out to get it.

@lifeaftermeteor

LAM snippet https://lifeaftermeteor.tumblr.com/post/168623134956/presidents-suite-brussels-belgium-26-january-208

Duo Maxwell

tw for reference to alcohol used as professional coping mechanism

LittleMouse

What Dreams May Come (Ch. 3) http://archiveofourown.org/works/12772926/chapters/29791854

M/M, Chang Wufei/Duo Maxwell, Trowa Barton/Quatre Raberba Winner/Heero Yuy

Chang Wufei, Duo Maxwell, Trowa Barton, Heero Yuy, Quatre Raberba Winner, Sally Po mentioned

Flashbacks, Non-con touching, Violence, Threesome - M/M/M, Anal Sex

Part 2 of the Dreaming... series

WarCraft (Ch. 6) http://archiveofourown.org/works/12429339/chapters/29791503

F/F, F/M, M/M

Heero Yuy, Chang Wufei, Duo Maxwell, Quatre Raberba Winner, Zechs Merquise, Trowa Barton, Treize Khushrenada, Hilde Schbeiker, Sally Po, Lady Une, Relena Peacecraft, Lucrezia Noin, Dorothy Catalonia, Iria Winner, Chang Meiran, Catherine Bloom, others as i go

Alternate Universe, Fantasy, Non-con touching

Luvsanime02

Engage (Ch. 8) http://archiveofourown.org/works/12458772/chapters/29667069

Heero Yuy, Relena Peacecraft, Zechs Merquise, Lucrezia Noin, Trowa Barton, Quatre Raberba Winner, Duo Maxwell, Original Characters, Mariemaia Khushrenada, Dorothy Catalonia

Post-Series, Politics, Friendship, Canon-Typical Violence, Minor Character Death, Government Upheaval, Language

Maldoror_Chant

The Source of All Things (Ch. 15) http://archiveofourown.org/works/12121344/chapters/29662827

M/M, Multi, Trowa Barton/Quatre Raberba Winner, Eventual Chang Wufei/Duo Maxwell, Even more eventual 1x2x5

alternative universe, Science Fiction, Fantasy, Plot Twists, fairly graphic depiction of sex, Mild description of self-harm, Mathematical Magic, weird science, crones - Freeform, Magic and Technology brawling and eventually screwing, Eventual Threesome, Kinda, Insanity of arcane origin, The universe is a pile of marbles and other dubious allegories

Freeport (Ch. 18) http://archiveofourown.org/works/12654255/chapters/29778882

M/M, Chang Wufei/Duo Maxwell

Chang Wufei, Duo Maxwell

long ass fic ahoy, socio-politics, with violence and hot guys, Blood and Violence, no EW, Slow Burn, Case Fic

@miss-m-muses

Yippee Ki-Yay http://archiveofourown.org/works/12998766

M/M, Duo Maxwell/Heero Yuy, Trowa Barton/Quatre Raberba Winner

Heero Yuy, Duo Maxwell, Trowa Barton, Quatre Raberba Winner

Christmas Party, First Meetings, First Kiss, Fluff, Cliche, AU

Being forced to attend a festive themed costume party was not Heero’s idea of fun. But maybe his unique costume and a new friend will make it more enjoyable...

Nomechan

Nameless (Ch. 14) https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12738986/14/Nameless

Victorian Fantasy AU. When the royal family of England calls upon a team elite investigators to find the whereabouts of a missing princess, mysteries concerning the royal family, supernatural events and other court scandals will unfold, creating unexpected bonds that will be the key to overcome the greatest enemy. 01xR, 06xN, 02xH. Summary sucks but take a look R&R

@passingdestinies & @the-indomitable-bhg

CAPCOM (Ch. 1-5) http://archiveofourown.org/works/12979587?view_full_work=true

F/M, M/M, Trowa Barton/Heero Yuy, 1x3

Heero Yuy, Trowa Barton, Duo Maxwell, Quatre Raberba Winner, Chang Wufei, Zechs Merquise, Lucrezia Noin, Sally Po, Relena Peacecraft, Treize Khushrenada, Dorothy Catalonia

Slow Burn, NASA, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Drama, Minor Character Death, Tragic Accident, Outer Space, International Space Station, Really Freaking SLOW Burn, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Lots of Footnotes

Astronaut Heero Yuy has spent months preparing to embark on his second mission to the International Space Station, but days before departure he is stricken with illness and forced to forfeit his position to his alternative, astronaut Trowa Barton. Over time Heero's animosity for his replacement transforms into respect, and then ultimately obsession. Can he maintain his professional boundaries, even with over 200 miles of atmosphere separating them?

@ransomedbard

Arbiter (Ch. 3) https://archiveofourown.org/works/12855798/chapters/29775639

Duo Maxwell

Resurrection, Suicidal Thoughts, Violence of the bullets and blood variety, Dark but with humor, Resurrecting is not as great as it sounds, Thinking oh so much thinking

Relena for President

End Game https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12756343/1/End-Game

A.C. 198. When Heero approached Relena about joining her detail, she had been amenable to the idea. It didn't hurt that she harbored personal feelings for Heero, and he knew it. Not that he would ever exploit that, but it certainly made their situation all the more convenient. However, if she was hiding things from him, it was about to make their arrangement much less agreeable...

@remsyk-blog

Volunteer Work http://remsyk-blog.tumblr.com/post/168454989547/volunteer-work

Trowa, university professor and all around nice guy, volunteered to help with Midnight Breakfast, a little something the faculty does for students during finals week.

Scath Rocco Meoi

Deception (Ch. 3) https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12740720/3/Deception

It started as a simple bet among friends. Dress up as a woman, go to a bar or club and get a man's phone number. He was never meant to fall in love... But then Quatre had always hated to lose. AU 1X4

Shenlong

Bound, Bonded and Betrayed (Ch. 67) http://archiveofourown.org/works/7188593/chapters/29759034

F/M, M/M, Heero Yuy/Duo Maxwell, Relena Peacecraft/Heero Yuy, Trowa Barton/Quatre Raberba Winner, Treize Khushrenada/Lady Une

Chang Wufei, Zechs Merquise, Hilde Schbeiker, Dorothy Catalonia, Lucrezia Noin, Sally Po

Sap, Angst, Bondage, Slavery, Yaoi, Lemon, Lime, Het, Violence, Fluff, AU, OOC. - Freeform

Shinigamiinochi

A Stagnation of Love (rewrite) (Ch 70: Chapter 8, Part 25) http://archiveofourown.org/works/2490005/chapters/29750241

F/M, M/M, Heero Yuy/Duo Maxwell, Quatre Raberba Winner/Trowa Barton, Trowa Barton/Duo Maxwell, Heero Yuy/Relena Darlian, OC/Duo Maxwell

Duo Maxwell, Heero Yuy, Relena Darlian, Zechs

Child Abuse, Bullying, Angst, Suicide, Incest, Alternate Universe

SmallSound

Two Truths and A Lie (Ch. 3) https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12748596/3/Two-Truths-and-A-Lie

Heero and Duo find some time to assess their relationships while alone on a cleaning shuttle during a cleaning mission in the L3 sector. Mostly a character exploration, 1x2 potentially 1x2x3 in the future.

Sunhawk16

Go http://archiveofourown.org/works/12978021

Heero Yuy, Duo Maxwell, Trowa Barton

POV Heero Yuy

Junk Fic http://archiveofourown.org/works/12978456

M/M, Duo Maxwell/Heero Yuy

Heero Yuy, Duo Maxwell, Chang Wufei

POV Heero Yuy

Veggie Tales II http://archiveofourown.org/works/12977856/chapters/29668704

M/M, Duo Maxwell/Heero Yuy

Heero Yuy, Duo Maxwell

POV Heero Yuy

Ion Vignette http://archiveofourown.org/works/12978339

M/M, Duo Maxwell/Heero Yuy

Heero Yuy, Duo Maxwell

Bagels http://archiveofourown.org/works/12978219

M/M, Duo Maxwell/Heero Yuy

Heero Yuy, Duo Maxwell, Hilde Schbeiker

POV Heero Yuy, Implied/Referenced Suicide

Moonlight http://archiveofourown.org/works/12978120

M/M, Duo Maxwell/Heero Yuy

Heero Yuy, Duo Maxwell

POV Duo Maxwell

Hush http://archiveofourown.org/works/12978402

M/M, Duo Maxwell/Heero Yuy

Heero Yuy, Duo Maxwell

Light Angst, POV Duo Maxwell

xX_Rabble_Rouser_Xx

Life After Gundam (Ch. 3) http://archiveofourown.org/works/10873356/chapters/29659143

F/M, Duo Maxwell/OC

Duo Maxwell, OC (female)

Fluff, Domestic Fluff

A series of one-shots taking place post-Endless Waltz in the lives of the former pilots, soldiers, politicians, and civilians. A grab bag of characters, relationships, themes, and subject matter. No defined timeline or storyline.

Zennelia

Hinter dem Horizont (Ch. 9) http://archiveofourown.org/works/10336529/chapters/29675979

F/M, Relena Peacecraft/Heero Yuy

Heero Yuy, Relena Peacecraft, Duo Maxwell, Zechs Merquise, Original Characters

Family, Hurt/Comfort, Philosophy, Drama, Post-War, Preventers (Gundam Wing), Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Action/Adventure, Medical, Fluff, Romance, Post-Endless Waltz, Post-Canon, Real Life, Friendship, Character Death, Character Development

The raw manifestation of the disease bore into Duo's very eyes and mind and he witnessed the other side of Heero which made him as he was.

Fanart:

BlackManaBurning

https://blackmanaburning.deviantart.com/art/Always-Accepting-Custom-Requests-Glass-Charms-719885849

Glass Charms, WuFei Chang

@donitkitt

http://donitkitt.tumblr.com/post/168414668751/overly-optimistic-and-loud-and-his-quiet-reserved

Duo/WuFei

http://donitkitt.tumblr.com/post/168409284451/doodle-a-wufeiei

WuFei Chang

@elfbingo

http://elfbingo.tumblr.com/post/168595327835/commission-done-for-gw-ficrecfriday-of-one-of-my

Quatre and Heero

@gundamwingafterdark

https://gundamwingafterdark.tumblr.com/post/168574587210/treize-x-heero-watercolor-painted-on-watercolor

Heero/Treize, NSFW

@kangofu-cb

https://kangofu-cb.tumblr.com/post/168455634757/for-chronicwhimsy-who-is-amazing

WuFei/Duo

Leodin96

https://leodin96.deviantart.com/art/ORX-000-Origin-Gundam-720286774

Wing Gundam

Liza-lunashine

https://liza-lunashine.deviantart.com/art/Death-scythe-hell-Gaito-719394873

Deathscythe crossover art

Murumokirby360

https://murumokirby360.deviantart.com/art/Colored-Sketched-013-Gundam-Deathscythe-Hell-Head-719907525

Deathscythe Hell headshot

@risingwinter

http://risingwinter.tumblr.com/post/168484046614/ugh-these-were-such-pain-but-hey-this-dead

Heero Yuy, Duo Maxwell, Trowa Barton, Quatre Winner, WuFei Chang

Seraphiczero

https://seraphiczero.deviantart.com/art/Hi-Resolution-Wing-Gundam-Zero-EW-4-719950596

https://seraphiczero.deviantart.com/art/Hi-Resolution-Wing-Gundam-Zero-EW-3-719950320

https://seraphiczero.deviantart.com/art/Hi-Resolution-Wing-Gundam-Zero-EW-2-719949874

https://seraphiczero.deviantart.com/art/Hi-Resolution-Wing-Gundam-Zero-EW-1-719949373

Wing Zero, model

@viewtiful-jojo Operation Meatier

Mobile Suit Abridged: Gundam Wing! (Episode 3 is in the works!)

Episode 1: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GK1SeYH2kYg&feature=youtu.be

Episode 2: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6_WaXjuXEIE&feature=youtu.be

Photosets/Screenshots:

@vegalume

https://gundamwingarchive.wixsite.com/fanfiction/gw-pics-w-invader-zim-quotes

All of the Invader Zim quotes on Gundam Wing screenshots.

Photo Prompts/Prompts:

@remsyk-blog

Never Skip Leg Day http://remsyk-blog.tumblr.com/post/168594337012/ladies-and-gentlemen-i-present-to-you-another

Duo asks Heero an important question, for a friend.

@the-indomitable-bhg

“Pick your pairing” https://the-indomitable-bhg.tumblr.com/post/168397938287/slashyflightsuit-pick-your-pairing-fic-im

Heero/Duo

Not what you’re expecting, but cute!

@yuy-heero

https://yuy-heero.tumblr.com/post/168529108564/whats-wrong-trowa-paused-in-the-middle-of

Photo prompt, 1X3 cuteness

Chats/Dialogues/Discussions:

@lelola

http://lelola.tumblr.com/post/168401428290/i-love-that-relenas-the-one-catches-heero-both

Relena catching Heero

Calendar Events:

@gw-evewar

GW Eve War Event https://gw-evewar.tumblr.com/post/164079261510/an-open-gundam-wing-fandom-community-science

Post works (Saturday) December 23, 2017 - (Sunday) December 24, 2017

@gwsecretsantaexchange

Secret Gundam Santa https://gwsecretsantaexchange.tumblr.com/post/167303149500/gundam-wing-secret-santa-2017

Gundam Santa gifts due for posting December 20-25!

@thisweekingundamevents

Cocktail Fridays!

#This Week in Gundam Wing #thisweekingundamwing #Gundam Wing #December 10-16 2017 #weekly roundup

30 notes · View notes

renrutnnej · 7 years ago

Text

I never wanted to be a mother

Oh boy, the miracle of birth and whatnot!

I’m really bad at absolutes. For example, as long as I can remember I’ve told people I never wanted to be a wife or a mother. As a little girl I remember looking at both jobs and being like, “Nah.”

My daughter was not my first pregnancy. The first time I was en-wombed was in university and I was a freshman who in the short span of six months time was sexually assaulted, and entered into a volatile physically and emotionally abusive relationship. Because of some mental health problems and a total lack of self esteem, I didn’t see either of these things in their correct light, I just thought my first year away from home was a real education in female adulthood.

Fortunately my first pregnancy ended in a miscarriage. Is it weird or wrong to say that? I don’t think so. I was 19 and had already chipped a front tooth from being punched in the face by my boyfriend. So when I think about that time in my life, I don’t feel any guilt. Also I didn’t know I was pregnant until it was too late and what I thought was the worst period of my life was actually a miscarriage.

This gave me the impression that my physical person was a hostile environment to children. It proved that I knew I could and would not be a mother, ever.

—

To talk about my daughter’s birth, I have to set the stage, which in retrospect I’ve always described as an unfortunate series of events, but now I realize fully how incomplete and lacking in good substance my life would have been without her. I have to look at these events as exactly the way things were supposed to happen.

First, I could not find a writing job out of college (I graduated with a degree in English literature, lucrative I know). All of my self esteem issues came to a head and I resigned myself to the fact that I had been posing in college as a person with ambition when really I was going to end up staying a small town person working retail or as another’s administrative assistant or something.

Second, my sister graduated from college the following year and decided to move to Las Vegas. Through zero seconds of trying to convince me I decided to come along. Also our parents were already living there (they had moved while we were both in university).

This new start inspired me and I decided to do something completely different with my life. I was going to change the world by joining the Peace Corps. Whoa, except that stipend does NOT even come close to covering my credit card bills and student loans. Umm, backup plan, I was going to change the world by teaching English in South America, somewhere like Argentina or something. In the meantime I had to save up for this adventure so I took the first job I could, in retail.

Third, sexism has pissed me off for a long time. Growing up tomboy really instilled an (arguably ignorant) type of jealous competitiveness in me. Anything they can do, I can do better, or in the very least I can do it too. So when my male peers (retail managers) were having relationships with younger employees, I decided to too. I’m a modern woman, and cougars were like definitely a thing by then. I started hooking up with a very hot, barely legal (but also very legal), sales associate.

Next, in a few months time my sister moved to Seattle and my parents moved back to Washington state. They moved me into my own apartment on Warm Springs and back home to Richland in the same weekend. Finally I was a modern woman living in Las Vegas, with her lifelong companion cat (i.e., cat I picked out when I was 6 years old) Beauty, making it happen.

Just kidding, I got pregnant.

—

Getting pregnant a second time was a complete shock. And by that I mean, I thought it was impossible. As in, not even within the realm of possibility.

I’d been having some lady troubles for sometime and since my sister had had Exorcist level kidney stone problems I went to the doctor right away for fear. The doctor confirmed what I had known since I was 19. Well, almost. She said it appeared that my symptoms might be an indication that I was infertile. Twenty-four year old me: duh. But they still had to run the tests.

Getting pregnant brought intricate complexity and mind-numbing simplicity to my life. Having to tell the parents of my 18 year old (now boyfriend, ugh) that I was pregnant was terrifying. Having to tell my parents, worse.

No more changing the world.

No more Argentina.

No more writing.

No more freedom.

I had just fast tracked my path to wife and mother by being a “modern woman” making things happen.

No more infertility, what the hell?

And since this was clearly a miracle baby, getting rid of her never once entered my mind. This was obviously a baby Jesus type situation.

We moved from Vegas to Kansas City with his family. To say it politely, my parents weren’t pleased by my condition and the distance did us both a lot of good (I told myself). His family, on the other hand, were very happy and excited by the baby’s coming. At least they always gave the very genuine appearance of being so. I was less excited.

Actually I was the most depressed I’d been in my life at that point. I knew my body was a hostile place to fetuses so what the heck!?

I absolutely could not imagine the whole exit strategy of my situation. Instead I imagined death.

I took lots of time to myself and wrote pages and pages of tear-stained journals I can’t bear to read now. I slept as much as I could. I was mourning my death while I was still alive, growing a life inside of me.

Also I had to get rid of my cat, what the fuck.

—

I knew I was never meant to be anyone’s mother and so I was positive I would carry this baby to term and die during labor, and she would be cared for by this warm and loving family. And I would die young like I’d always predicted. Well, youngish.

My OBGYN became worried by my morbid questions about death rates.

I refused to have a baby shower or anything resembling a baby shower because I couldn’t imagine celebrating the event that was going to kill me.

My lamaze class teacher asked me stop asking questions about worst case scenarios because I was scaring the other mothers.

—

Working in retail brought about what I felt to be appropriate levels of shame and self-hatred.

Strangers, assuming me to be much younger than I was, made completely hideous comments about me and my baby, and my education (lol, right). I was constantly touched and given advice by strangers, interrogated regularly.

My retail district was close to a particularly violent one regarding shoplifters. Other managers in my store had been maced or stabbed with the tools shoplifters brought into stores to break off the security tags. One day I found the equivalent of a shiv in the front room of my store and went into the stockroom and had a complete mental and emotional break down imagining approaching the wrong customer just one time.

I felt I deserved this, though it enraged me. This was my penance.

My hormones surged. I snuck as many drinks of wine at family dinners as I could. (Sorry baby, but red wine is delicious). I had nightmares about delivering babies with heads shaped like deflated basketballs, or delivering piles of bloody guts. I obsessed over my single friends awesome lives (aka highlight reels) on Facebook.

It made me bitter that I had to die. I became resentful of my baby’s father, even though he tried his best with me. He wanted to marry me and have more kids, be a dad. I knew she’d be okay. Hopefully he’d marry someone who wasn’t anything like me or that evil stepmom bitch in Cinderella.

I’d end up letting him name her. I chose her middle name, Violet.

—

It began one Sunday night, after a large steak dinner (with red wine) at his parents. I kept feeling like I had to poop really bad every twenty minutes. It was so bad that I couldn’t sleep. By 1am I was on the toilet trying to push steak out and when I saw drops of blood, I freaked out. IT’S TIME! I screamed.

He sprung into action. What do we bring? Spoiler alert, I hadn’t even packed a “go” bag because I never planned on coming back.

We listened to Jason Mraz on the short drive to the hospital. God, this is the last song I’m ever going to hear. I focused on the words and tried to clear my mind of pushing all of my guts out.

When we got to the hospital, they did some tests and I wasn’t far enough along. Maybe this is a fake out, and I can go home and go to bed. No, the nurse told me, you’ll progress it just takes a little time.

Another nurse came in and did a quick ultrasound to see the baby’s position. Her tone worried me, looks like this one’s a breach baby. You’ll have to adjust your birthing plan. Just knock me out, I sighed. Oh oops, those are the baby’s shoulders. I thought it was her butt. She was low and engaged, and I was fine. That fucking nurse.

So he walked me around the hospital corridors while I had the worst cramps of my life. I tried not to cry.

This is how it ends, me alone in the hospital, out in the midwest, without any of my friends or family, with this kid, and this other kid inside me.

Around 4am I finally reached a point where I could get pain meds and this other drug that would help my labor progress while I was medicated, but first they had to break my water. I was terrified of any more pain. They showed me what looked like a knitting needle that they’d insert to break the membrane. The nurse assured me, her name was Bridget by the way, that it was painless. I sobbed. Couldn’t they just knock me out. My knees clamped shut and I couldn’t keep from trembling.

But it was painless and suddenly I was sitting in a puddle of what just felt like warm pee. That was it, water broken. I felt like an idiot. The drugs came quickly after that and by 5am I had progressed to the point that I could get the one thing that was keeping me going through this whole ordeal: an epidural.

The anesthesiologist came in and sat me perpendicular to the gurney. He told me to sit still because he was putting a needle the length of a ruler down my spine. But the painkillers really got to me and I had to crack jokes about how the only thing separating my naked body from the doctors and nurses in that room was a piece of paper gown. My boyfriend looked white. I was already stoned.

Afterward, I was finally comfortable, and I drifted off to sleep quickly. Bridget came in once an hour on the hour and put her whole hand in my vagina to see how far down the head was. I didn’t like being woken up but I couldn’t really feel anything and Bridget was my best friend at that point.

Around 10:45am things picked up. My baby’s dad was downstairs eating breakfast with his family when Bridget told me I’d need to call him, I was almost at 10 centimeters. He came back with his mom and Bridget told me now when I felt the urge to push to do it.

I didn’t want to poop on the table and I couldn’t get up to like clear things out before I labored a baby so I gave some weak ass pushes. Bridget could tell.

I gave one hard push and she exclaimed, JUST LIKE THAT! But I saw his face and I knew I had pooped. The shame. But again, I was stoned so meh.

Strangely I had turned down the floor length mirror at the foot of the bed because I didn’t want to see myself die, but if the end was coming I really didn’t want to see it.

“Bridget can you take off your glasses? With the lights and everything I can see my vagina and I really just can’t right now.”

She did.

With his mom video recording the monumental eruption and destruction of my vagina, my first child was born at 11:25 am. The doctor, I don’t know when she showed up (?), put the blue, guts covered baby on my chest.

She was out. I had tried not to picture her before because I never wanted to let myself go down that road in my mind.

I looked at her. She looked at me. She was gross. But she was an alive thing with eyes who looked at me. She looked like she’d been freezing (she was blue) in bloody Cream of Wheat. Also she had pooped in utero and that was everywhere, super great.

I had nothing profound to say, so I said, “Oh my god, a baby.”

Then they whisked her away to clean her up and do all the baby tests. Everyone else left too.

My body got overtaken with waves of pregnancy hormones coursing through me while I delivered the placenta and my whole body convulsed as the pregnancy hormones left me. NO, I DO NOT WANT TO SEE THE PLACENTA. Jesus.

The doctor began to clean up the volcanic eruption where my lower lady parts used to live. I knew I had felt a slight burning sensation during the birth, but I didn’t know it was a tear. I simply thought it was the slight onset of death.

It didn’t make sense to me that I was alive.

I had no plan for this. I didn’t even bring a nightgown.

Now what?

—

As of the time of my pregnancy, I can’t recall seeing any birth or pregnancy narratives that highlighted feelings like fear, depression, or general reservations without framing them them as fleeting blue aspects of an otherwise golden soft lit scenario. That’s not real life. I’m sharing my story, because even though I was certainly depressed, I don’t know that my feelings of doubt at the sudden onset of potential motherhood are all that uncommon.

When I share my true feelings and experience with friends, I often hear that other women are relieved by my candor. Dutiful, knowing mother is a trope to which I do not subscribe, and frankly, doesn’t reflect my experience at all. So I’m offering my story as just one against the many almost romantic Disney-esque birth and pregnancy stories. My daughter and I did not live happily ever after, and our relationship, just like any other, is one that has required hard work and patience (a lot of patience) but we’re both better for it.

This story originally appeared on Medium, April 3, 2016.

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kasstheyautja · 6 years ago

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🌸 VENTING POST! PLEASE FEEL FREE TO SCROLL PAST! 🌸

EVEN IF YOU SCROLL PAST JUST KNOW THAT I HOPE YOU HAVE A GOOD DAY AND I HOPE YOU SEE A CUTE ANIMAL AND EAT YOUR FAVORITE FOOD 😊

TW: anxiety, depression

I don’t really have anywhere to vent without my family or my few irl friends becoming really worried about me so my tumblr is my only safe haven. Please feel free to scroll past and don’t feel bad about it, I just need to vent a bit.

I’ve been struggling with depression since I was a really little kid and I’ve had undiagnosed anxiety since I was probably 4-5, unable to get any sort of help for it until last year (thank you Medicaid)! I have self-harmed in the past and I have made two suicide attempts with continued ideation till present day. I worry that I will never be truly happy with these feelings lurking in the back of my head at all times.

I have moved 10 times since 2012, spanning 4 states, becoming more and more withdrawn from my friends and family each time. I currently live in NYC and I hate it. Yes, I have the love of my life here and a great therapist but my mental health is fluctuating so badly here in the big city.

I was raised in the Midwest, free to explore forests and wade through creeks and streams, venture through vast green cornfields and dance through sunny pastures of wildflowers, clover, and waist-high grass. I could lay amongst the lush grass and look up at a sky so big and beautiful and filled with stars and constellations beyond my understanding. Birds and bunnies and squirrels and snakes and all kinds of butterflies could be readily found wherever I roamed. I was always so happy to walk barefoot over swaying grass, hop across sun-warmed stones to cross a gently-gurgling creek, feel the cool packed earth beneath my toes as I meander along forest trails created by and for local deer and other wildlife. The dappled sunlight that filtered through the treetops would always be so gentle and comforting on my pale, lightly freckled arms. The breeze would tickle my cheeks and cause the flora to sway in a seemingly ages-old dance everywhere I looked.

However...now that I have grown, gone to college for a degree that stole my passion for art, experienced unspeakable sexual trauma, struggled with homelessness and hopelessness, faced myself as my worst nightmare and strongest ally, admitted I needed help to survive, found my soulmate...I don’t know who I am anymore. I don’t feel like the girl who could set out on adventures through the forest armed with snacks, drawing supplies, and her cats. I feel like I’ve lost my way through all of the ups and downs and I’ve lost sight of who I want to be.

I don’t enjoy living. It’s not that I actively want to die (although I may joke about it constantly) but rather my life and how hard I have to fight every day to just get out of bed and not waste away is weighing on my mind more and more. I took a trip back to my hometown and the forests I loved were empty of leaves, seemingly void of life whatsoever. I know that spring will come for my precious, much adored forests. But will I feel springtime again? Will I blossom again, look up at the stars and feel wonder instead of a vast emptiness? I feel like I could crumble away into nothingness and very few people would notice or care. I thought I was stronger than this, that my therapy and anxiety medicines were working to make me feel better but...I feel empty. I have an amazing fiancé and his family loves and cares about me, but I feel so empty inside. I can fake a smile with ease thanks to years of retail and service work but I am weary.

I used to love art, sketching, painting, dancing, reading, playing video games, cooking, baking, listening to music, learning new things. I used to have hobbies. Now I’m lucky to be able to find things to enjoy, such as yautja memes and and Sasuke Uchiha and the Pokemon Miltank. I seem to obsess over them but my god, they’re all that have been making me smile lately. My fiancé is so happy with my sudden fascination with yautja and will listen as I endlessly chatter about them. I’ve bought 5 DVDs of different Predator movies for us to watch and he’s delighted that I’m smiling more. I’ve been following a lot more blogs related to my above interests lately and I’ve been given so much joy from them. I don’t know where to go from here but I’m just glad that I’m getting this all off my chest.

Thank you to anyone who took the time to read this rambling mess, I love you and I hope you have the best day. ❤️

TLDR: I’m really depressed and really anxious and I’m sorry if I annoy anyone with my likes or reblogs, I’m just desperately trying to find enjoyment in life again.

#self post #venting #mental health #I’m sorry #feel free to ignore

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sambamwreck-blog · 6 years ago

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Spring Breakers!

For my spring break, I visited Montana State University, the college I will be attending this upcoming fall. I thought I would do a pros and cons list to help me organize my thoughts on the school and to share a little bit about where I am going.

PROS

Location - Bozeman is absolutely beautiful! Mountains surround you on all sides that you can’t help but look at and admire, especially as a Midwest girl who sees nothing but trees and farms. There is downtown Bozeman and then “city” Bozeman. Downtown Bozeman is like a replica of Stillwater, MN with old, historic buildings that now have cute cafes and small businesses. “City” Bozeman is like Woodbury, MN with new and updated buildings that house the average restaurant and shopping malls. I loved looking around both parts of Bozeman, because there was so much to see.

Personality - After going to a school for 12 years where looks and materialistic items matter, it was really nice to see that people from Bozeman do not care about those fake qualities and are humble people. Most people there do some form of winter sport and that’s the style, at least in winter. You will see a lot of snow pants being worn around, rather than stylish jackets and expensive jewelry, which is my style. I’d much rather wear a sweatshirt and leggings than a dress any day.

Population - The total population at MSU is around 16,000, but that includes graduate students too. The student to teacher ratio is 19:1 which is amazing for students like me who need extra help in the classroom and will not be able to learn in a 600 person lecture. The largest lecture they have on campus is 200. With college being a big step up from high school, having close relationships with my professors is exactly what I need to stay ahead of the game and prosper in my studies.

CONS

Nursing Program - I really love most aspects of the nursing program at MSU. For instance, I like that you will spend your first 3 semesters on general science classes and the last 5 are focused on nursing specifically. The one thing I do not like is during your junior and senior year, they could possibly relocate you to another Montana university (Billings, Missoula, Kalispell, Great Falls, or Bozeman) and that is where you would do your clinicals in a hospital. I wouldn’t mind this so much if me and my best friend, who is also attending MSU to become a teacher, hadn’t been planning to buy our own apartment junior and senior year. Otherwise, the nursing program is really hands-on and sounds like a great experience.

I definitely have more pros than cons which is good, because I shouldn’t be going to a school with more cons on my list. I love MSU and I’m so excited to be a pre-nursing student this fall! High school has been fun, but I am so ready to become independent and start advancing in my future career. GO CATS!!

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voyagehole9-blog · 6 years ago

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Family Friday (vol. 89): Ringing in 2019!

I cannot believe it was November 30th that I last posted a Family Friday! Time really does fly, doesn’t it?

The holidays were good! I had a bit of anxiety going into them because we had lots of travel planned. That is, after we canceled out trip to Cancun (don’t feel too bad for me, we just booked a 9 night stay in MAUI for our 10th anniversary this spring!!!). Piper also came down with what I have to assume was the flu. She had 103 degree temps for 2 days and was a little limp noodle for 3+ days. She recovered just in time for Christmas, though!

Christmas Eve I worked a half day, reported home to throw everything in the car, and headed 2 1/2 hours to my cousin’s house. We did a whirlwind Christmas Eve there before driving back home and doing the whole Santa thing. The girls were sound asleep when we arrived home, but good thing mom and dad remembered Santa’s cookies (and cocoa, not milk…thanks to the lady at checkout one day. UGH) and the carrots for the reindeer. Santa even left a handwritten note telling the girls they needed to be good in order for Santa to come again next year. In the morning, they first had to finish up Santa’s cookies (guess he wasn’t all that hungry after a very filling Christmas Eve) and only after all the sugar was gone could they then moved on to gifts. The highlight was the “rainbow watch” that Santa was lucky enough to score on Amazon. Because really, where does one find a RAINBOW watch? The elves were stumped. We really did keep it simple this year: watch, sled, Shimmer & Shine dolls, a game/puzzle each, toothbrush, and Contigo kids water bottles because they disappear only every other second. It won’t be long before we’re upping the ante on the holidays so we enjoyed keeping it at a minimum. Oh, and for now, two of everything. Keeping the peace as we learn the intricacies of sharing.

On Christmas Day, my parents and brother reported to Michigan for a day of homemade cinnamon rolls, appetizers, and lounging around. A little gift opening, too, of course. My crew didn’t get up until well past 9am and so albeit a very busy morning for me, I had cinnamon rolls rising and all my appetizers prepped by the time they sauntered down. I think next year (at 5 and 3-years-old) it will REALLY get exciting. Piper sure does love saying “Christmas!” every time she sees Christmas lights or a Christmas tree. This includes every evergreen tree we see. I really do think 2 is the most perfect age. Don’t get me started on how every coin (penny, quarter, nickel, fake coin, whatever) is a “wishing coin”. She recalls the ONE time at least 7-8 months ago we threw a penny into a wishing well. She’s just the cutest. Shea, on the other hand, while absolutely adorable, questions EVERYTHING. I realize this is part of development and is age-appropriate and so I dig deep for all of my patience. The girl is just incessant with the talking and questions. She’s basically a miniature version of me and so naturally that just doesn’t always jive 🙂

The evening of Christmas we packed up and headed to my in-laws for 5 days. We got to see my sister-in-law who was in from Seattle and got in some visits with friends, cousin time, an Illini game, a little bit of shopping, plenty of eating, and fortunately, plenty of sleep and exercise. The midwest temperatures have been glorious!

We got back last Sunday and I returned to work on Monday. I wasn’t really planning to work a full day, but I definitely did. My leadership cohort is wrapping up next month and I’ve got some catching up to do. I present to the health system’s senior leadership team in just over a month and obviously I want to showcase all that my project entailed. With New Years Day off, it was a weird mid-week break before returning to our regularly scheduled program of daycare and work on Wednesday. We got in a groove just in time for the weekend and so here we are. I think we’re all ready for a return to normalcy – you know, reasonable bedtimes, waking before 8am, brushing teeth before noon, eating vegetables…the whole bit!

In case you didn’t read or see, Mark got me a Peloton for Christmas! It was most unexpected and it gets installed on Monday. It is JUST the thing I need to get back in the groove of morning workouts. I was at the gym this week and holy heck was it BUSY. I just can’t. The gym in January makes me nuts. I’m very excited to retreat to my basement with my new bike and really get into some lasting morning workout routines. It is forever a struggle of mine even though evening workouts are straight up TORTURE.

I got 2 new cookbooks (1 as a gift and 1 as a gift for myself – oops) and I’m thoroughly enjoying both. I’ve chosen some killer recipes and have some happy campers over here.

My FitBit died yesterday and I’m so annoyed. I got a Versa in late August and in the past week the battery started draining about 3-4x faster than it had been and than it should be. I called FitBit and they were wonderful, providing directions on next steps to perform a battery life test. I was in the process of recharging after it died completely, as instructed, and now it is totally unresponsive. I called FitBit back last night and they are sending a new one. Still, I’m annoyed. Mark teased that I might as well not move until it comes because I won’t get “my steps” (what a terd), but it’s just the concept. And admittedly, I’m so accustomed to text alerts and calls coming to my watch that I feel a little lost without it. Oh, technology. What insignificant problems you present!

Our podcast is going SO well! So well in that we finally have a groove and we’re loving it. If you haven’t checked it out, please do! It’s called the Dietitians Dish. We’d also love if you’d review our podcast after listening. We welcome any episode topic requests or questions – feel free to email those or post here as a comment! I always love to hear what people want to hear about. ‘Cause lord knows Gina and I could make a podcast about nearly anything and have a blast in the process. She’s my new Saturday morning coffee date in the basement as we record podcast episodes.

I’m also thinking about writing a blog post devoted to how we started our podcast. It might save someone a LOT of time and energy. Plus, it’d be podcasting for dummies because we are such novices on the tech side…but have so much nutrition, food, mom, and girl stuff we want to talk about. I can’t wait to see where 2019 takes our little podcast!

Date night tonight – better get to looking presentable. Have a super first weekend of 2019!

Be well,

Source: https://preventionrd.com/2019/01/family-friday-vol-89-ringing-in-2019/

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wendyimmiller · 5 years ago

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Lingering Springs, Bittersweet Memories and The Evolution of a Gardener

The latest in the on-going correspondence between Marianne Willburn & Scott Beuerlein.

__________________________________

May 14, 2020

Lovettsville, VA

Dear Scott,

My heart aches for you and your family coping with the loss of your mother. In a normal year it would be emotionally draining, but right now, with the ability to have less than ten people at the funeral? I am deeply sorry you have had to cope and grieve while normal life is upside down – I cannot imagine. It was this time last year that we lost my father, and that was hard enough.

The arrival of spring has brought back a lot of that tension and sadness. Memory adheres gently to seasons. For years I could not see pumpkins on porches and smell cinnamon in stores without experiencing waves of psychosomatic morning sickness brought on by having not one, but two, romantic Septembers. And now, Dad is messing with spring.

I have had words with him about it. Proper out-loud words to the sky when I’m in the vegetable garden, which is one of the reasons we needed to live somewhere without visible neighbors. That and the outdoor restroom facilities.

I have wondered many times over the last year what Dad would think about my garden now. It is very young, but the last time he saw it, it was a newborn, and for the most part not to be seen. Dad never went in for ornamentals in the same way that he loved his vegetables and the natural world around him. My guess is that he would have nodded gently, raised his eyebrows over some of my kaleidoscope combinations, and then pulled up a chair in the vegetable garden and asked for a beer.

Dad and I in the garden that fed our family during “the college years” in Iowa.

My very earliest memories of a purely ornamental garden and the high ambitions of its creator – a good family friend – are equally strong memories of the bemusement my father felt for such frivolous things. I can still see the marble statues…hear the plans for an amphitheater being discussed with animated hands as mosquitos danced around us in the dusk…and I can still see my father shaking his head.

I must have been ten or eleven and no doubt more focused on one of the wonderful treats Mr. Willson had prepared for us indoors to care what an amphitheater was. Now I routinely stand with gardeners in their Edens and discuss overreaching plans that are based in fantasy and a glass of red wine – including my own.

The only shot I have of Mr. Willson proudly standing in his California foothills garden.

He is gone now too, but I so wish I had had more time to see his garden and his marvelous plans with wiser eyes. I have an aloe pup (of a pup of a pup) he gave me that sits on my desk next to this picture.

Speaking of wiser eyes – or at least, eyes that are now wise enough to recognize how thoroughly un-wise they are – what a brilliant column on the evolution of gardeners in Horticulture this month! No rebuttal from this quarter – you nailed that one. Judging from my young adult children, and my own memories of being supple, invincible and insufferable, it is not only gardeners who go through this “I-know-everything-I’m-a-rock-star” phase.

The fermenters for one. If I am lectured one more time at a party on the merits of lactobacillus by a bearded, gym-ripped Adonis with a koi tattoo on his calf, I may lose my carefully curated reputation as a well-behaved guest. Or as you might say, ‘my shit.’

I get it dude. You can pickle cabbage. So can I. So can three-quarters of the population of Poland. May I assume you’re also fostering a rare sourdough starter you brought back from a hostel in Bratislava last summer?

Whew. That’s obviously been building up.

But as you say (much more wisely, gently, and 100x less arrogantly than I seem to be able to express), it’s payback. I cringe to think of the party-goers I have annoyed with my new gardening discoveries that read to them as ancient history.

And the ones I’m currently annoying for that matter. It’s all relative. Until we leave this Earth with cherubims and seraphims at our heels, there is always someone older and wiser that wants to punch us in the mouth.

Perhaps all this confidence is as it should be. If in those earliest days of discovery, we were to come up against the enormity of all that we know right now that we don’t know, and not experience any wins that made us feel special…made us feel like we alone knew the answer…I think we’d most likely run scared, and turn our talents to ditch digging or politics. I have never felt less able to call myself an expert on growing things than I do now, more than twenty-five years into growing things.

And I feel almost panicked over how little time there is to absorb all that I’m hungry to learn. I’m at it 24/7 and there still isn’t enough time. Life gets so complicated so quickly that dropping everything and offering my unpaid services to Keith Wiley or Fergus Garrett or Panayoti Kelaidis for a year in exchange for knowledge unbound requires that I fake my own death.

One view (amongst hundreds) of Keith Wiley’s garden at Wildside in Devon. Yes, I know we’re back to England and it’s a sore point with you, but when I see a garden like this I realize the enormity of what I have left to learn.

Don’t think I haven’t thought about it. Why can’t we have two decades in our twenties? One to try everything and one for keeps. Or is that what our thirties are supposed to be?

But enough of philosophy and supple young joints.

We too have had one of the most glorious springs in memory. Long and lingering, it has allowed so many early bloomers such as epimedium, dicentra (I know, lamprocapnos, &$%@! taxonomists), claytonia, brunnera, trillium, mertensia, narcissus, leucojum, kerria etc. to hold those blooms for weeks – right up until the freezes we had that you sent from the Midwest.

Self-seeded and superb – Brunnera macrophylla

Even the sanguinaria held on longer than two days. After the freezes, the temps stayed cool and revived almost everything. My newish ‘Rose Marie’ magnolia took a huge hit – both blossoms and leaves – as did ‘Jane’, but as Michael said, now they can boast of a tough childhood.

Sanguinaria canadensis ‘Multiplex’

One of the most surprising semi-casualties was a Rodgersia podophylla ‘Rotlaub’ I have grown for five years since I brought it back from Dancing Oaks Nursery in Oregon. It has weathered much in the way of crazy springs, flagged a little, but never been hit so hard by a cold snap. As I thought of it as an early emerger, I was gobsmacked that it couldn’t pull itself together for a night. But when I went back to my records, I realized that the warm winter had gently made me think that we were later than we were, and with all the days blending together right now, who the hell knows what day of the week it is, much less where the rodgersia should be.

Still, lesson learned, filed away under ‘fail,’ and thankfully the plant has begun to re-sprout. I understand from a friend in Colorado that this is a normal state of affairs in a region that giveth and taketh away every May, but it’s hard to see such a gorgeous plant on its knees. Again, this is where you cannot beat hard experience – and many years of it.

The Lord giveth….

And the Lord taketh away.

Meanwhile, in more resilient quarters, each spring I come back to epimedium and brunnera as two genera that are woefully underplanted by the general public. It’s not their fault. For whatever reason neither is commonly sold. It probably has much to do with how they present in 6” pots – not as much come hither as a greenhouse begonia. But so much ease, and so much to offer shade gardeners tired of staring at hosta. Unaffected by the freezes, and by most things really Except for Southern blight on the brunnera in the summer months – yep, that scourge is in my soil in places.

A little ‘Jack Frost’ brunnera in the midst of some blushing E. x versicolor ‘Sulphureum’

I share your enjoyment of ostrich ferns and try very hard not overuse them in my quest to conquer Japanese stilt grass. They are overusing themselves I fear. Plant one, you have a hundred; and as you say, late freezes halt them only for seconds. They have already shoved out a robust stand of Arisaema triphyllum and are heading for the A. ringens and A. consanguineum if I don’t pull out the shovel. And move the arisaema. Such beautiful Jurassic monsters.

Do you grow vegetables somewhere on that plot of yours? The asparagus are coming in well this year and the kale is putting a little green in my juice every day.

Wait, that’s every week. I’m forgetting. It’s the wine I drink every day. The wine.

Especially at the moment.

I have put off mentioning COVID-19 and the unbearable state of things until the end of this letter, and quite frankly, I am tempted to sign off and leave it there, the entire business is so upsetting. But in response to your question – should we build gardens for nursing homes and tend gardens for first responders during this pandemic – the answer is of course yes; but then, we should build gardens and help our struggling neighbors where we have the ability at every opportunity.

Though it seems like this will never end, it will. The true question is, will we do these things when it is all over? Will the new Victory Gardeners keep gardening without a pandemic to worry them? Will people still remember to bring a bouquet of tulips to a nurse’s door, or plant up a windowsill garden for an elderly friend when there are stores to be shopped and weekend recreating to be done. Will I?

I hope so. We are not judged so much I think by what we do when the emergency is obvious and push comes to shove, but what we do when the world stops shoving and we can quietly return to familiar routines. Your thoughts are laudable and wonderful however. Do not let my cynicism blight them.

As for your promise of you both joining me in the UK next year on a garden tour, you might want to ask yourself if you are truly safe in a country whose beloved horticultural institutions you’ve publicly disparaged. I’m not saying I would rat out your identity, but then again, I’m not saying I wouldn’t. Of course I wouldn’t let them hurt Michele – she’s one of us.

Make sure Michele brings this picture tucked into her passport. They may require proof.

As for me – do I want an Olympic level smart ass sitting in the back of the [exceptionally comfortable] coach, sipping red wine and throwing out occasional witticisms to the raucous laughter of all present? I sat through that once already remember.

What the hell. But I’m telling you right now, I’ll have the microphone this time and I know how to use it.

My best to you both,

Marianne

P.S. We got a new puppy. An Irish Wolfhound named Nessa. Mungo is currently seeking legal representation.

P.P.S. Love your mossy walks. LOVE them.

Lingering Springs, Bittersweet Memories and The Evolution of a Gardener originally appeared on GardenRant on May 14, 2020.

The post Lingering Springs, Bittersweet Memories and The Evolution of a Gardener appeared first on GardenRant.

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