#i think i'm finally learning to pace my work schedule

[aurosoul]

haven't posted selfies in ages... here is Professional Clothes Shopping from during my big conference prepping

[thought--bubble]

Superior

Aemond (Dark Canon Era) X (Arryn Wife Reader)

Warnings below

Word Count: 2532

Aemond (Canon Era Masterlist)

Full Masterlist

Based on THIS request

Warnings:: Misogyny, Dub con heavy on the Dub.

You had actually thought it a perfect match. When you had heard you were to marry the prince.

Prince Aemond was smart, handsome, and loyal, all the things you thought would make a wonderful husband, and he was a wonderful husband. He was not incredibly warm, but he was kind enough. Treated you well, and in this world, a husband that treated you well was, in fact, a wonderful husband.

You were grateful for the match and the connection to the royal family. You were proud to be part of the royal family, especially at this juncture. Knowing you will be a Targaryen during the rule of the first sovereign queen of the 7 kingdoms made you feel like you were a part of the future. A part of a new order. Where women would be seen as leaders and figure heads instead of simple broodmares.

That was the belief anyway.

Until the day that your illusions came crashing down around you, like shards of glass from broken mirrors, hitting the floor and bouncing back up, nicking your skin in a thousand small cuts.

You were shocked when your maids didn't show up in the morning to help you dress. It was very peculiar. Your maids had come from the vale with you. They knew your schedule like they knew their own, and they were never late.

With concern, you move to open the door to your chambers to ask someone to send for your maids. You couldn't wait any longer. The fact that they hadn't turned up meant that something was out of sorts.

Your shock nearly doubled as you found that your door wouldn't open. You pushed and pushed, screamed, and yelled pounded on the door. To no avail. You could feel the stress and panic work its way into every inch of your body. Something was very, very wrong, and your mind began to race with possibilities.

Was the castle being raided? Were you under attack? The king has been so weak for so long. Had someone finally decided to take this opportunity and bring down the house of the dragon? You instincually bring your hand to your stomach. You had missed your moon blood recently. It was still too early to be sure, but you felt like you knew there was a little prince or princess growing in there, and it was your duty to keep them safe.

You waited hours, pacing before the hearth, returning to the door again, attempting to open it, or scream loud enough for someone to hear you. You had even begun to contemplate a way to escape out the window just before the door finally opened and your husband walked in.

"Aemond!" You ran to his arms and checked him over for signs of injury. "Are we under attack?" Your eyes scan his chiseled figures and the pale skin of his neck. There are no injuries to be seen. There are no signs of battle.

"Dear wife, King Viserys has died." He states matter of factly. As much as this would shock the average person. You were not surprised by the indifference your husband displayed at the mention of his father's death. You had learned pretty early on that there was no love lost between the two.

"I'm sorry to hear that, Lord husband." You shift uneasily from foot to foot trying to surmise in your head why the death of the King would leave you locked in your room. "Was it an assassination? Are we in danger?" The only thing you could think of was that Aemond was trying to keep you safe as they once again secured the castle.

Aemond chuckles. "An assassination? Who would waste gold paying an assassin to kill a walking corpse? No, thankfully, the stranger finally came and took him."

"I just assumed," You started. Niw even more confused.

Aemond quickly grips your chin. "I know, this is complicated for you," he coos in a condescending tone.

You pull back from his grasp, irritated at his tone. "No, it is not. What is confusing is why I was locked in my chambers all morning. No chamber maids and no information! If we were not under attack and the king died peacefully in his sleep, then why was I locked in my chambers?"

Aemond clicks his tongue and looks down at you with his one eye. "Preparations had to be made"

You squint your eyes at him. Thisnanswer did not cure your confusion. "So.... I had to be locked in my rooms so you could prepare a funeral?" Your mind was awash with confusion.

"No. We had to prepare the coronation." You stop cold and close your eyes. You had heard the hushed whispers, and the fact that Rhanyera had visited only once the entire time you were married to Aemond had given some weight to those whispers. Yet you didn't want to believe it.

"Rhanyera's coronation?" You ask the question, although you already know the answer. You always wondered if they were going to fight over the throne once the time came, yet you never imagined they would simply snatch it.

Aemond pinches the bridge of his nose clearly annoyed. "No, dear wife. The rightful King has been coronated this day"

"The rightful king? You mean the usurper!" You feel the heat rise to your cheeks. This was wrong. You knew that he knew this was wrong. The king had been quite clear with his intention of passing his throne to Rhanyera.

"My dear kind father had a change of heart on his deathbed." He spits back at you, his words laced with venom.

You scoff and shake your head. The thought that the king would simply change his mind at the last moment was an absurdity. How could the hightowers possibly think that anyone in the realm would believe it?

" You know what it is that your father truly wanted, Aemond! You are a man of honor and duty!" You push against his chest, and he quickly wraps his large cold hands tightly around your wrists.

Aemond looks at you with a smirk on his face, fueling your rage. "My father was a terrible father and an even worse king. He was weak and stupid. Blind to the reality of the situation."

You feel a tightening in your chest as your rage bubbles up. "Oh? And what's that? What's the reality of the situation?"

"The reality is that Rhanyera is a whore, and a liar and is not fit to rule" Aemond grips your wrists tighter beckoning you to challenge him further.

"That is your kin!" You shout in horror at the words he is using to describe his own sister.

"That bitch and her brood of bastards are no kin of mine!" He pushes you back hands still tightly clamped around your wrists.

"Aemond! That's - "

He cuts you off with a snarl pushing you further into the bedchamber.

"You would do well to mind your tone when you speak to me."

"Aemond, stop!" You try to pry your wrists from his grip as he continues to push you back more forcefully. Your feet move quickly in an attempt to keep up with his pace.

When he gets you to the bed, he shoves you down hard upon it.

"You should spend less time worrying about who sits the iron throne and more time on your back as is your place"

He places his knee between your legs pushing them apart.

"Is this how you would want your mother to be treated? Heleana?" You know how much his mother and sister mean to him. How could he think of women this way and still love them so?

"My mother bore the king three sons. My sister bore Aegon two sons. They have done their duty. They understand that their place is behind a man. They are loved and respected for it." He reaches down and grips your throat. It's not hard enough to cut off your breathing but hard enough to keep you in place.

"A bitch can be tamed, something I have yet to do with my own wife it seems." You tug at his hand trying to pry it from your throat. The initial shock of his demeanor was worn off and quickly replaced with a need for self-preservation.

He chuckles lightly and releases you, instead grazing your bottom lip with his thumb.

"I would like you to leave. I wish to sleep alone tonight!" You nearly shout as you scramble back on the bed thinking the matter settled.

"No." Aemond crawls onto the bed with you tugging you up against him by the waist.

"No? I wish NOT for your company tonight. " You arch your back in an attempt to put some distance between you. You want nothing more than to be far away from this man that you are beginning to realize is a complete stranger to you.

"You have a duty to fulfill." The playful lilt in his voice causes your stomach to plummet. He isn't going to leave, is he?

Aemond kisses up the side of your throat. "And you will fulfill it, won't you love?" The condescension in his voice elicits a cringe from you.

"I will not. Not today. " You gently shove him from you, once again attempting to put some distance between you.

"Oh, but you will, my love." he grips your waist tighter and pulls you back to him, pressing the full length of his body against yours.

"You are my wife, and the wife of Aemond Targaryen will be a good wife." He kisses your cheekbone just beneath your eye. The gesture would seem so sweet, so intimate if not for the aggression it is coupled with.

"Aemond, let me go. I wish to rest." As you struggle against his grip, he chuckles and squeezes you tighter.

"You do realize sweet wife that you are not the one who makes such decisions? It is I your lord and husband who makes decisions such as these." He gently bites the base of your chin while pushing his entire body up against you.

You could feel his hardening manhood pressed up against your thigh and attempt to shove him off. You decide here and now that you will fight him with everything you have.

"You have yet to serve your purpose, dear wife." This is the last thing he says before flipping you on your back and crawling over you.

You spit in his face, your rage hitting a boiling point. "Do not presume to tell me what my purpose is. You are not but a second son. You have no purpose."

Aemond's one eye goes dark, but he lets you go, and you scramble back up the bed, finally able to procure the distance you were looking for.

"Leave" you demand with conviction while you try to mask the trembling of your body.

"No." He replies quietly while he continues to simply sit at the end of the bed. You can feel heat pooling in your cheeks. The way he is looking at you. The way he is practically lounging at the end of the bed, seemingly unbothered by his actions. All of it is driving you into a fit of fury.

You seeth internally as he continues to sit and look back at you, a half smirk on his face, and to make matters worse, he starts to palm at himself over his breeches, never breaking eye contact.

Your breath hitches at the sight, and you avert your eyes, battling with yourself to control your breathing. The one thing Aemond knew about you, really knew, was how very attracted to him you are.

As you look away toward the stone wall, counting to three in-between each inhale you hear hits boots thump against the floor.

With more determination than ever, you focus on the wall and your breathing.

"Maybe..... mayhaps...... we could......solve our differences another way?"

You attempt to ignore him. He removes his breeches and then moves toward you, gripping your hand and pulling you towards him.

Before you could say anything, he was on you. His lips pressed against yours harshly. At first, you attempted to resist pushing your hands against his shoulders as he pressed himself tighter to you.

The heat traveling up your body and the tingling sensation that flitted across the tips of your fingers had you give in to your desires.

You kiss him back fiercely. Your lips clashed as your tongue swirled around his. If you were going to fuck him, you were going to fuck him like you hated him, because in this moment you did.

Aemond pulled at your dress, tearing the front of it, too impatient to properly unlace you. As soon as he had it off he ran his hands over your trembling form.

He felt for every curve and every dip along your frame. Taking pleasure in the feel of your soft skin beneath his calloused fingertips.

Your body responds to his touch, a trail of fire left in the wake of his hands along your skin.

"You do know how to be a good wife" He growled in between kisses or bites you could hardly tell the difference anymore.

"Oh, be quiet!" You roll him onto his back and mount him, taking his arms, effectively pinning him to the bed.

Armond grunts in surprise before starting to chuckle. "What are you doing?" His voice is low, his one eye locked on yours.

"Just be quiet and serve your purpose," you bark back, pushing down his small clothes.

His breathing is ragged as you slowly slide down onto his cock. "What purpose is that?" he manages to say between labored breaths.

You roll your hips, applying just the right amount of pressure to your bud to build up your pleasure.

You close your eyes and continue your movements. Making it a point not to reapond. The room is quiet, save for your ragged breaths and quiet moans.

Aemond moves to lift his arms from the bed, but you hold them in place. Hastening your movements panting louder as the knot in your stomach pulls tighter. This act is for you and your pleasure.

"You did not answer," Aemond grunts between moans.

You smile down at him, rolling your hips. You run your tongue over the front of your teeth, but once again, do not respond.

You dig your fingernails into the skin of his arms as you lean forward to give yourself the leverage you need to bring yourself maximum pleasure.

"You are already serving your purpose, Lord husband." You chuckle as you bring your hips down upon his with more pressure.

He closes his eye as he groans. "What purpose is that?"

Your breathing stops as you reach your climax, your body clenching around his. Pulling his orgasm from him almost forcefully.

His head falls back, and his body arches. A long groan escapes his lips, and as he lays beneath you catching his breath, you wrap your hand around his throat.

"Oh?" He chuckles.

"Your purpose? You on your back. Guess I tamed my bitch."

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@targaryen-dynasty

[andromeda-nova-writing]

Qualifications of Critique

Fem!Reader Words: 1130

AN: This is very much a test to see if I can write him in character. Also, my first time posting a fic for HSR

Dr. Ratio flipped the page of the chemistry book he had begun to study enjoying the peace and quiet of the university library. A welcome change of pace after spending most of the day grading papers that hadn’t met his standards. There were a handful of students he had hoped to step to the plate but only a few of that group continued to show promise—a pity.

The library had been mostly quiet only gaining more silence as students left for the day. Something he would have done himself if not for the horribly late faculty meeting that had been scheduled in a few more hours.

There was the quiet tapping of heels against the carpet floor getting ever louder. It was an easy sound to ignore but should have served more as a warning with the voice that spoke from behind him. “If it isn’t the worst teacher to ever grace the cosmos.”

He closed the book, turning his head around to see one of the professors who worked there alongside him. She stood there with a bag around her shoulder and her arms crossed. “Excuse me?” He asked, already annoyed that his break had been interrupted.

“I’m being asked, actually that’s the wrong word. I’m being told to move my classroom to make room for a new study hall dedicated to trying to improve the rate of three percent of your students passing.” She complained.

”Don’t take this up with me. It’s not my fault your class was being moved.” He stood up. It would be best to go back to his office and lock the door if he wanted any ounce of peace.

”It is. This study hall wouldn’t have been created if you were better at your job.” She glared up at him, tapping her shoe attempting to calm herself down at the information she had recently been told.

”Have you considered that these students should have to work at grasping the material? It isn’t my fault that they are too foolish to understand simple concepts.” His book had been abandoned on the table.

”Of course, it’s simple to you. You already know it!” Y/N rolled her eyes at his reasoning. “How can you be so smart but still not even understand that being a good teacher means your students should be passing your class?” Any students still lingering around in the library were rushing to pack their things with hushed gossip over the argument that was unfolding.

Arguments between the two of them were slowly becoming famous across campus. Students and professors wondered when the tension between them would finally break. As entertaining as they could be to watch, no one wanted to risk being caught in the crossfire and being forced to take a side.

”I am passing those who put in the work. That’s what should be done.”

”I’m not saying to just pass everyone. Yes, pass those who put in the work. But you also should be putting the work in to make sure they have a chance at understanding the work that is being asked of them.” She explained. It wasn’t like that should be a hard thing to comprehend.

”I put the effort in.”

The bag on her shoulder fell to the floor as she uncrossed her arms. “You do not. You talk a big game of ridding the world of ignorance but can't even take the time to learn how to be a better teacher to do just that!” Her bag had been left on the floor as she took steps forward, shortening the distance between the two of them. “It's such a joke that you consider yourself so smart but are too stupid to see that.”

The distance between them was almost closed as they stood near each other. She had been the only person in this university to challenge his intelligence. Other professors had been quick to praise him but she focused on pointing out his faults to say where he could improve. It was infuriating but a welcomed difference to see someone who could clearly think for themselves.

“I don't see how insulting me adds to your critique of my teaching abilities. I'm not even sure if this qualifies as a critique.”

“Have you ever done a critique yourself? It involves saying what should be improved and then offering advice to guide that person in the right direction, sometimes showing them step-by-step what to do. It makes the base for anyone even interested in teaching. I’m surprised that critique is even in your vocabulary.” 

His eyes didn’t mean to wander down at her lips. Glossed to absolute perfection as she spoke a mix of insults and advice. “Do you ever shut up?” He asked, missing the peace and quiet that the library was known for before she had stepped in.

“Occasionally when those I am conversing with have value to add. If you would take the time to reflect on what I have been saying we wouldn’t have to keep having this conversation. Do you understand how your actions have an effect on me?”

“I wasn’t aware that you would let others have any sort of effect on you.”

“It’s when I’m able to move on with my life. You just keep causing me roadblocks. First, my program loses funding that gets diverted to yours because you have a big name. Now I lose my classroom for a study hall for students struggling with your class. What are you going to change in my life next? I would at least appreciate some sort of warning.”

“If that is what you would consider life changing then I believe we are both using separate definitions.”

She rolled her eyes before speaking in a sarcastic tone. “Oh won't the great Veritas Ratio enlighten me then.”

Maybe it was the way that she knew how to stand her ground against him. Or maybe it was that she saw the humanity within him to acknowledge his flaws instead of defaulting to praise like others had. Could it have been that when she came to complain about his teaching she treated the argument more like a debate something that could be seen past the insults? 

He placed his hand underneath her chin holding her gaze on him. Y/N let out a small gasp. “Veritas…” The boldness in her voice had dropped into almost a whisper. “I meant a definition, not this.”

“Everything you said has made it sound like you pride yourself on a proper example.”

“So you do know how to listen. You’re just horrible at application.” She leaned her head to the side, her boldness only dropping momentarily as it returned to her voice. “We should revisit what a life-changing moment is once your class has upped the passage rate.”

[hakkasm]

↑You can read all the pages from the link above!

[Comic] Mafia Sitter

I started writing in mid-January to submit to the Global Comic Award 2024 and finally completed it. Continuing from there is a long feedback.

The working time is two months for the main text and two weeks for the cover. Around January 11th, I received a DM from a friend saying, "There's a contest like this," and thought, "The deadline is the end of March... it's impossible for me (I've never drawn a completed comic before)." But it's a comic contest aimed at the world... My art style is only recognized in this contest... I couldn't ignore this contest. I was in the middle of making another piece, but I interrupted it, and I was full of anxiety about whether I could draw a comic in just two and a half months. However, the thought, "Instead of worrying, I should act quickly," came to my mind, and I started writing from January 13th, changing my mindset.

I spent 1 day on the script, plus 1 day typing the dialogue, and started the "completed 1 page per day" lifestyle from January 16th.

The goal was to complete 45 pages, but at the plotting stage, it was about 56 pages. When I actually started drawing the manuscript, the planned page allocation didn't match, and the total number of pages increased to 65. (I learned the importance of page allocation.) At a pace of 1 page per day, I wondered if I would make it by March... (I'm easily bored, I didn't think I could do 1 page per day.) So, I rearranged my schedule to make 3 pages on weekends, which would give me some leeway. This idea turned out to be a big success.

As a result, I achieved 1 page per day and was able to finish drawing all the pages by early March, leaving the remaining time to work on the cover, which is like the face of the comic.

Since I work as a company employee, I had to finish work by 8:00 p.m. to make time for the manuscript, which was a daily pressure. There were times when I finished the manuscript at 3:00 or 4:00 a.m. on weekdays. I fell ill. At that time, I felt like giving up. (On the day I fell ill, I slept for about two hours and resumed manuscript production after my condition improved a bit.)

It was truly a life of "pushing myself to the limit", but accomplishing it gave me confidence. 'Oh, I can make a 65-page full-color comic in 2 months.' It became an advantage for me. (I don't want to push myself like this anymore, though... haha.)

Thank you for participating in the survey for the title logo! The survey results leaned towards the left logo. While the left logo was packed with concept, its font style and thickness varied, resulting in imbalance when aligned in a row and making it difficult to use in monochrome. If the left logo had overwhelmingly won the votes, I would have chosen it. However, since the right logo also received a considerable number of votes, I decided to adopt the right logo.

Now all that's left is to see the results on Global Comic Award. I'm really aiming to win. Both the script and the art are amateur-level when viewed separately, but I balanced them out to make them good enough.

It's my first comic work... I really want a lot of people to read it! *If enough people like the comic and want to get a copy of the comic book, I can make and sell it:)

[drurrito]

Welcome Aboard

A/N: Cranked out my first fic for Carol. All mistakes are mine.

Pairings: Carol Danvers x Reader

Warnings: A little bit of angst and alcohol use

----------------

Carol never has visitors.

When the boarding request pops up on her communications system, she almost blows it to bits, it's a sound she hasn't heard in years. It takes her a few seconds to finally press the button to speak to whoever is waiting on the other side.

"Who's there?" she finally asks.

"Captain Marvel?" a voice responds, "I'm agent y/n, I'm here from S.A.B.E.R. Our comms are down indefinitely, so Fury sent me over to do a briefing."

Carol looks over at Goose, who's stretched out across the navigation station, unbothered by the news of an unexpected guest. Carol tries to emulate the same attitude, striding over to the door to greet you like she's done this plenty of times. She used to at some point, that has to count for something, right?

She loses her bravado as soon as she finds you standing in the entryway.

"Captain Marvel, it's a pleasure to meet you," you stick your hand out and Carol takes it after a beat too long. You don't take offense, Fury gave you the rundown on how long Carol has been isolated. It only took a few minutes to conclude that being a multi-galactic hero is a lonely job.

Carol doesn't stand around for too long, she hurries into the ship after inviting you in.

"Excuse the mess, been a while since someone's been aboard," she apologizes, tossing a single loose shirt into a hamper in the corner and tidying a pillow that was definitely knocked over by Goose.

"It's no problem, are you ready to start the briefing?"

"Sure, you want a drink or anything? Besides water, I think there's a few bottles of brew from Aladna hiding in the back of the fridge," Carol is already halfway to the kitchen, oblivious to the quizzical look on your face.

"I'm okay, Captain, honest," you flash her a friendly smile, and she feels the air escape her lungs. Her shoulders descend from her ears as she walks over to the chair across from you. You're too busy pulling up the agenda to notice.

Carol gingerly takes a seat, her hands rubbing vigorously against her thighs. She might be the first person to grate their hands on denim jeans at this rate. You're still looking for the agenda when Carol springs up from her seat, "are you sure you're not hungry? I'm so sorry, I should have offered before-"

"Captain?"

"Yes?" Her eyebrows were about to launch into orbit, she was already a few paces away from the kitchen, scraping the farthest corners of her mind for that recipe she learned from a family she helped a few galaxies ago.

"I'm okay, really."

"Right," she hurries over to the chair again and lets her body unceremoniously drop into it, vowing to herself she'll never get up from this spot unless she absolutely needs to. She looks up to see you waiting patiently for her go-ahead. Despite traveling to the furthest edges of the universe, she's never seen anything like the color of your eyes.

She collects herself quickly before saying, "let's get started."

---------------

The briefing was mostly successful. Turns out your agenda was outdated, the correct one must have been wiped out from the surge that knocked out the comms. You had to ad-lib everything that was left out and corrected anything that was no longer relevant. Carol watched you intently the whole time, like the fate of the universe depended on scheduled ship maintenances and admin tasks.

"There's still one thing, it was from a meeting last week," you stand, pacing back and forth trying to jog your memory.

"I'm sure it's in there somewhere, maybe we can take a look with these?" Carol is holding two memory dive devices. You've never had to use them before, but you know everything there is to know about how they work.

"Good idea Captain."

"You can call me Carol, agent, it's alright," she hands you one of the devices.

"Thank you," you just nod and take the device, Carol pretends the way your fingers brushed against hers for a fleeting second didn't just make her spine tingle. She lets you take her bed while she sits in the tattered recliner she's been meaning to get rid of.

----------------

It all happens so fast.

One second you're watching the memory of you sitting in a briefing room with Fury and your colleagues, the next, you're watching Carol's memory of Maria telling her to take Goose.

"The cancer came back."

You can only watch a few more blurs of Carol's memory before you jolt upright. Your body is so tense, all you can do is let out a shuddering breath and a few tears.

"Y/n?" Carol is already by your side, "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean for that to happen."

Her voice is distant, like she's calling to you from the other end of the galaxy in the deepest cave. You're still trying to get your bearings, that was far too much pain packed into what was only seconds with the mind dive.

"Can you look at me? Please?"

She sounds much closer now, you turn to look at her and suddenly remember where you are. Your breath is still unsteady as you wipe the half-dried tears on your cheeks, embarrassed over being reduced to tears.

"That...those were your memories," you finally speak, Carol sighs in relief. Her hands have been hovering between your shoulders and face this whole time, unsure if touching you was the best idea.

"Yeah, they were," she straightens up, taking the device from your hands and tossing both aside.

"I've been trying to remember everything...before, well, everything," Carol starts again, looking at anything but you, "I'm so sorry, if I knew that was going to happen I wouldn't have-"

She's cut off by the feeling of your arms pulling her against you. She almost forgot how much she loves hugs, almost.

Carol returns the favor and wraps her arms around you. You both stay like that for a while. Loss is one of the first lessons a hero learns, but it doesn't mean they're impervious to its effects, especially with how often it happens. Carol is trying to convey how sorry she is with every circle she rubs into your back. You only part when it seems like the dust has finally settled.

"I think I'll take that beer now," you say after heavy sigh. Carol gives you a sympathetic smile before heading to the fridge.

----------------

Carol explains everything that you saw.

She also tells you stories about her life before this one, and her adventures from roaming the galaxies. You did a poor job of trying to stifle your giggling when she mentioned being married to Aladna's prince to resolve a "legal issue." That earned you some side eye and an eventual smirk.

Carol swears she's mostly made peace with everything that happened, but you both know it weighs heavy on her from time to time.

Especially during long stretches of solitude like this one.

Goose saunters over to you and spills over your feet belly-up with a lazy "meow," a prime position for scratches.

"Goose is probably stoked to get scritches from someone other than me," Carol quips into the mouth of her beer.

"I could do this all day," you say without a second thought and Carol's smile reaches her eyes.

"Carol, I want my agent back," Fury chimes in over comms.

"I'll think about it," Carol says coolly as she takes a swig from her beer, you stand up out of habit from hearing Fury's voice.

"He's right, I should probably go, there's going to be million things to do now that comms are back up."

"Of course, let me walk you out," Carol sets her bottle down and leads you to the doorway. Seems like you only walked through there a few minutes ago. Time is playing tricks on you, it seems.

"Stay safe out there," Carol says.

"You too, Carol," you trade smiles, committing hers to memory by the time she pulls you in for a hug.

"Thank you," she whispers, hugging you tighter for a few seconds before finally letting you go.

----------------

"So?" Fury is the first to greet you when you arrive at the station.

"Pretending comms is down just to give her human interaction is kind of evil...yet genius," you shake your head with a smile.

"I know she gets lonely out there, she'll never admit it. This is the least I can do," he shrugs before turning on his heel. He walks a few steps before turning to you again.

"Same time next month, agent y/n?"

"Of course sir."

He gives you a curt nod with a knowing smirk before finally leaving.

[flowercrowncrip]

do you have any tips on learning how to pace yourself? i just learned i was disabled last year and its been a hard adjustment. im constantly feeling like my body is failing me, but i think in some ways im also failing it by not paying attention & being more gentle.

Finding out your disabled is a really hard adjustment to make, And Learning to listen to your body and being gentle with yourself is a really good skill to learn If you can.

Learning to pace is really hard (Or at least I found it really hard),But so worth it. To get it right I needed to completely let go of able-bodied assumptions about what rest and activity look like., finally admit to myself that I'm not capable of anything I put my mind to, and learn to be okay with that as far as possible.It hasn't been a short process for me, But it has been one that has improved my life tremendously

I think the single biggest thing that's helped me is to not expect myself to function on the level of able bodied people. My 16 hour work week is as tiring and time-consuming for me as a non-disabled persons 40 hour work week. My non-disabled friends ideas of " taking it easy" look from the outside the same as the days I consider a big day out. I've come to learn that's not a failure on my part, and that it's not just allowed but also essential for me to rest after activities other people would find restful. If you find something hard and tiring then it's okay to rest regardless of how tiring you think the activity "should" Be.

When it comes to listening to my body, that's a skill I’ve developed overtime. I started from a place of only recognising I was tired when I was already burnt out and making myself ill, where I only stopped when my body forced me to. I had to learn what signs of being tired my body gives me before reaching crisis point. For me that looks like Small increases in pain, a subtle feeling of heaviness, and things just becoming a little bit more tricky than they were before.

I also try and schedule at least one day a week specifically for resting. And more if I'm doing something big. Making rest part of my routine has really helped me to avoid crashing as often as I used to. Mentally I can find it difficult and understimulating, especially when I want to be out and about doing things, but it's gotten easier with time and practice and I now have a wide variety of low Energy activities I can do in bed to keep me occupied, from watching the patterns of a starlight projector, to watching TV or listening to audiobooks.

if anyone else has any tips, I would be really interested in hearing them too

[basketballanonsblog]

Posting this 3 days early because who cares about the schedule right? 🫠

Jeongyeon x Reader: soulmate AU

A sprinkle of Motzu at the beginning

Synopsis: You're slowly learning to love life again

Reason to love

"Tzuyu, relax. I'm sure Momo will love whatever you'll do for valentines day."

The youngest of the group sought out advice, going on a tangent about different ideas. She stopped pacing around and took a deep breath.

"You're right. What are your plans for y/n tomorrow?"

"Nothing extravagant, just a surprise picnic."

"Y/n unnie will love it nonetheless."

The maknae's words made Jeongyeon feel better than she'd like to admit.

-x-

You stretched your arms before opening your eyes. Looking left, your heart skipped a beat at the sight of the love of your life.

It was extraordinary. No matter how many tales you heard about what it's like to find your soulmate, it paled in comparison to the actual feeling.

You wouldn't complain if Jeongyeon was the only person you could look at for the rest of your life.

Seeing her barefaced and serene, you silently vowed to do everything in your power to protect her.

"I can feel you staring." She said without opening her eyes. You became bashful, leaning down to press kisses to her cheek until she squealed.

"How can I not stare? You're so beautiful."

"Even if I just woke up?"

"Yes."

"I'll only believe you if you kiss me."

You didn't hesitate to obey, and you felt her arms encircle your shoulders. For all you knew, an hour could've passed. But unfortunately, the real world was calling.

"I wish I could stay in bed with you, but I have to go to the office."

That was the first Jeongyeon was hearing of this.

"I thought you were free today?"

"Why?" She realised you were unaware it was valentines day.

"Nothing. Have fun at work." Was she disappointed? Definitely, but she understood that your job was important.

-x-

You chewed on the end of your pen whilst looking out of the window. The shift in Jeongyeon's demeanour bothered you.

Have you forgotten something? Your two month anniversary was all you could think of, but that was still over a week away.

Mina will know, you decided. Popping your head out the door you called to your friend.

"Mina! What's special about today?"

She was taken aback by your abruptness but recovered swiftly.

"Um...valentines day? Chaeyoung is taking me out to dinner tonight."

Oh.

"Thank you."

You practically slammed the door, and Mina laughed when you exclaimed "y/n you idiot!"

-x-

Jeongyeon walked towards your office with the picnic basket. She almost abandoned the idea since you were clueless about today's date. However, you sent her a text asking her to stop by because you've cleared out most of your afternoon schedules.

"Y/n didn't mean to forget." Mina said after they greeted each other.

"She's never celebrated valentines day before." Now that, Jeongyeon didn't know, making her frown.

"But, y/n is 219 years old."

"Yes. She detested the idea of celebrating many things alone, such as her birthday and valentines day. Over time, they became like any other day."

She was saddened to hear that. Anyone who loves as deeply as you do doesn't deserve to bear the weight of loneliness.

"Don't let me keep you. It's just her in there, so you can walk straight in." Mina snapped Jeongyeon out of her thoughts.

You were sitting on your desk when she entered, and you held her close once she was within reach.

"I'm sorry, my love. I'm still getting used to the fact that I finally found the person I can share my life with."

You rested your head against her chest. "Please be patient with me."

"Of course, baby." She combed her fingers through your hair while you basked in the comfort she exuded.

"I hope you don't mind, we have a visitor for lunch."

"Who?"

You stood upright, motioning for Jeongyeon to face the door.

"3, 2, 1..."

A little girl ran into the office, laughing.

"Hi Miss y/n!" She leapt into your chair, spinning around.

"Hey Eun-ji." She spun around for a couple of times before realising Jeongyeon was there too. Her eyes narrowed in curiosity causing Jeongyeon to waver slightly at her gaze.

Since when are children this intimidating?

"Hello, I'm -" She attempted to break the ice.

"You're Miss y/n's angel!"

Her what?

"Eh?"

Eun-ji picked up the photo of Jeongyeon you kept on your desk.

"I saw this, and Miss y/n said you're her angel."

"Did she now?" She smirked at you, making your ears turn red. You sheepishly rubbed your nape and cleared your throat.

"Lunch! Let's go, I'm hungry." You let Eun-ji jump on your back while you grabbed the picnic basket; avoiding eye contact with your girlfriend.

-x-

Jeongyeon slipped her hand in yours while the pair of you watched Eun-ji play in the park, the food long gone.

She knew you received your fair share of demons over the years, but she admired how you tried your best not to let them consume you.

"How did you meet her?"

"I shouldn't say too much, but something terrible happened to her, and I'm the prosecutor for this case. Trials can be hard enough to begin with, but it gets a whole lot more complicated when you add a child. It's my responsibility to make sure she's prepared, and despite being professional, she's somehow grown attached to me."

"Like you can't say the same." She teased.

"Perhaps." A hint of a smile appeared.

"It's understandable. I feel calm when I'm with you, and I'm guessing it's the same for her. No matter how aloof you try to act, there's just something inherently... warm about you."

The little girl reappeared, urging you to accompany her. You didn't resist as she pulled you to the playground.

Affection swelled within Jeongyeon as she watched Eun-ji, and you run around.

"There are those butterflies in my stomach again." She whispered to herself.

And if for a moment she imagined a future of you running around with a little one of your own, then she'd never tell.

Eun-ji joined her eventually, resting against her on the bench.

"Are you tired now?"

"A tiny bit, but I'm having fun with you and Miss y/n!" She tucked her hair behind the girl's ear and gave her a bottle of water.

"Jagiya!" You called out, catching both of their attention. "Watch this!"

You jumped, grabbing the monkey bars, before flipping your body around, making you hang upside down.

"Y/n unnie is silly." Eun-ji giggled at your antics.

"She is, isn't she? Stay here for a minute, sweetheart. " Jeongyeon made her way to you, bringing a smile to your face.

"Is Eun-ji okay?" The pair of you looked at the girl, who waved back.

"Yeah, she's just tired." Your girlfriend couldn't take you seriously as you were upside down.

"You know, it's hard to believe you're over two hundred years old when you're being playful like this."

"Be honest, honey, you love it." Her expression softened, and she couldn't resist leaning up slightly to kiss you.

"I do."

God...you'd never get tired of her kisses.

"You always make me feel lightheaded, my love."

"That's not me, silly. It's just the blood rushing to your head."

"I'll only get down for another kiss." You stuck your lips out, making Jeongyeon laugh.

"No chance!" She walked back to Eun-ji, leaving you upside down and pouting.

-x-

The sun was setting, and the little girl was asleep against your shoulder as you carried her. You looked to your girlfriend, whose hand was intertwined with yours.

It all felt a bit domestic, to be honest, but you didn't mind one bit.

"Jeongyeon, I'm sorry." You blurted out, causing her to face you so quickly, but you froze for a second, feeling nervous.

"What for honey?"

"I know this wasn't how you envisioned spending our first valentines day together. I'm trying my hardest to be better, to learn that I shouldn't constantly shut people out. Especially you. Jeongyeon, you have turned my world upside down, and I love you so much for that. Because of you, I'm beginning to find joy and love in the things I've ignored for so long. You're my reason to live, and I want to share every facet of my life with you."

Tears pricked the corner of her eyes during your mini heartfelt speech.

"Oh honey, I never doubted you. I see that you're trying your best, and I appreciate it more than you can imagine. You're right. This isn't how I imagined the day would go. But honestly? I wouldn't change a single thing about it."

"Really? So you were still... happy today?"

Jeongyeon stepped closer to you, being careful not to awake the girl before kissing your forehead.

"The happiest."

[gt-abby]

Mar and Jake- Chapter Ten

We've arrived at double digits! I'm so excited.

Sorry in advance for never giving Mar an opportunity at a calm and peaceful life.

tag list: @soakedmilkgt

chapter nine chapter ten (you're here) chapter 11

----- 2500~ words

Jake was sitting on the couch with his head down, his leg bouncing up and down quickly as he waited nervously. He saw Emily walk out and quickly stood up, with Mar following her from behind.

“Mar, thank God you’re okay, I- umm, are you.. okay?” He was stuttering, not knowing exactly what to say as he fiddled with his fingers.

“I’m fine…” She said, not really looking at him. Her heart was racing, telling her to run, to escape, that this wasn’t safe, but she did her best to ignore it. Jake didn’t approach. He waited for her to come to him in her own pace. He didn’t expect her to float over fast and hug him on his chest. She buried her face in his shirt. Shocked, he slowly returned the hug and held her to his heart. This was finally what she’d been looking for- his warmth and the calming pounding of his heart.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, this won’t ever happen again, I promise.” He whispered.

Emily smiled to herself. They really were the best of friends. In the span of just a week they were able to grow their bond so quickly, so beautifully. She was happy to be a witness to that.

When he raised her to eye level, he saw she was crying, but looking at him and smiling. He took that as a good sign.

“Welp, I hope everything is better now, and I’m glad that I helped, but it’s currently almost 4 AM and I really need to get some sleep, sooo…” Emily said as she headed for the door, but was quickly taken into a tight hug by Jake, who thanked her profusely. She gave him a light hug back, then quickly said goodbye to them both and left.

Jake yawned, and Mar also felt sleepiness wash over her now that the stress was gone.

“We should also get some sleep. Tomorrow is the weekend but I do still have a lot of work to do so it’s best to stay with a proper sleep schedule.”

“Yeah, I agree… I’ll need at least 15 hours of sleep after that. But… I think I’ll stick with my room for now. I do… need some alone time if that’s okay.” Mar replied, yawning as well. Jake’s heart skipped a beat when he saw her adorable little yawn.

“O-of course, Mar, what ever makes you comfortable.”

“Thanks… well, good night Jake.” She waved at him then flew off into her room and back into the clothes pile. It was too comfortable to pass on, and after a while of readjusting her breathing to a normal speed, she drifted off. Jake, on the other hand, felt he couldn’t fall asleep even if he tried. The stress was too great, and even though he did reconcile with Mar, he felt as though he still had a long way to go before she could fully trust him again. After all, it felt like she was too eager to leave him as soon as Emily left, too.  He lay there on the couch, thoughts floating around in his mind for hours until he also couldn’t resist the lulls of slumber, and before he could set an alarm, he was out.

—

Mar woke up to see Jake hunched over his desk again, and she dared not disturb him again. She flew over to the common area to see breakfast ready for her and even some orange juice placed carefully in a bottle cap for her. She smiled to herself. Jake was as kind and thoughtful as ever. She ate slowly, deep in thought, thinking about how life-changing the past week has been. She got shrunk, found out her parents sold her out to be bound to an evil god that was sooner or later going to break free from their prison and use her as a vessel, broke her leg, then learned to fly, then got traumatized by her friend. This all left a sinking feeling in her heart. Is her life going to be like this forever? Is it going to just get worse from here? Or was this the bottom of the barrel and she was only going to climb up? Unlikely. Slowly she will gain more powers and who knows what else will happen to her. But she did have someone to rely on. Well, she knew that, but she also felt the opposite. It’ll take time for her to warm up to Jake again, and right now she was very appreciative of the space he was giving her.

After she finished eating, she returned to her room, and wandered around looking for something to do. She found a small pencil on her desk and decided to go back to drawing. She hadn’t drawn in a very long time but she thought maybe this was a nice opportunity to let her frustrations out on a piece of paper. It was hard, given the tiny pencil was still too thick for her, but she endured, rather quickly getting the hang of it. Soon she filled out an entire page with depictions of the fire deity in several angles, mainly towering over the view point or with their hand closer, as if about to grab the viewer. She flipped over to the next page and continued on, so deeply focused on it she was filling page after page in a fast pace. She was so focused on her drawings that she didn’t hear Jake leave the house. Only when he came back hours later did she snap out of her focus, with the front door slamming shut. She heard shuffled steps in the living room and came out of her room to see Jake stumbling over towards her with something giant carried in both of his arms, and a large plastic bag dangling over his shoulder.

“What the- what is this?” she floated to the side to let him pass as he clumsily placed the giant box on the floor in the middle of the room.

“A surprise!” He grunted, cracking his back after setting the box on the floor. She floated over to look inside the box. He opened the flaps and the roof of a dollhouse poked out.

“What?” She laughed and he smiled at her.

“I thought you’d like a proper place to live in, your size, for some better privacy.”

Mar was at a loss for words. Jake took the house out of the box and placed it on the floor so she could have a better look. It was brightly pink, to Mar’s dismay, but it fit her perfectly. She hopped in on her healthy foot, seeing everything from the living room to the bedroom. It was made up of two floors, and even had a study.

Walking out she looked up at Jake, not knowing what to say.

“Wow, this is… a lot… where did you get this?”

“Oh, it’s second hand. My aunt had it for her daughter and after she lost interest she was looking to resell. A nice coincidence, right?”

“Well, yes, it’s definitely in great shape but… it’s not really necessary… this is a big favor.”

Jake smirked at her pun, and she, upon realizing it, gave him a disapproving look. He laughed.

“Besides, everything is made out of plastic and… so pink it hurts my eyes. I’m really grateful, thank you that was very very thoughtful of you but… I don’t really think I can accept that.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I’ve thought of everything. We’ll get you proper furniture, which I’ve gotten some already, like a proper bed, couch etcetera, and I also got lots of brushes and paint so we can color it to your liking. What do you think?”

“Oh, well… I guess I can’t really refuse, can I?”

He shrugged. “It would be a waste otherwise.”

“Wait, what did your aunt say about you getting a dollhouse of all things? You didn’t tell her… Did you?”

“No. No, of course not. I just said it was for a project.”

“But… you’ve got work and university to worry about, why would you take up another project, especially for me? You really don’t have to.”

“I have to make it up to you!” He snapped, making her cower again. “I-I’m sorry, I just… really feel like I screwed up and… I just have to make it up to you… I hope that’s how I can do that.” Jake crossed his arms and looked away. She saw a twinkle in his eyes. Was he crying?

She smiled at him and floated to eye level with him. “It’s okay, Jake, I know you didn’t mean it. I still… need to get over it but I know you’re a kind-hearted person, you’ve been so thoughtful towards me ever since this-“ -she gestured at herself. “-happened. One slip-up is allowed, especially when you’ve got so much on your shoulders. Taking care of me is already enough to make it up to me, if it’s that important to you.”

“Thanks…” he rubbed the back of his head, “I’m just… I feel like it could never be enough. The look you gave me, I-I can’t get it out of my head. You looked so terrified. I can’t stand it, someone I care so much about being this afraid of me.”

Mar’s heart skipped a beat. He said he cared about her. Well, she knew that, given he’d been so caring towards her over the past week, but hearing him saying that out loud is different. She smiled.

“I care about you too.” She then hugged his face. That felt a little weird to jake, but it was adorable, her entire arm-span couldn’t even cover half of his face, but he appreciated it.

“Let’s start then, shall we?” Mar hovered away so she could see him properly, and they both smiled. He went off to the living room to get the rest of the things he brought.

--

They worked on it until nightfall. Since it was able to open up to show everything inside, they could paint the inside of the house. Mar could paint small details like vines and branches, with a paintbrush jake made especially for her, one that was the smallest he could find but also cut the handle up so she could lift it. Mar felt like she could trust Jake again, as they had a blast making the doll house her new home. They couldn’t finish it all just that day, but Mar convinced Jake she could continue on her own when he leaves for class the next morning. As he got up to get ready for bed, he saw the drawings she made before on the paper that was on her desk, and smiled to himself. He looked down at her, thinking how incredible she was for forgiving him so easily. The pep talk she gave him earlier really did help lift his spirits, and he was able to fall asleep feeling much less guilty for the first time since that night.

Mar was too excited for her own proper home to not sleep in it that night, even if it was unfinished. The bed Jake found for her really was comfortable enough, and even smelled good, as if he bought it completely new just for her. She thought of the money she had in her bank account, and wondered what she would do with it now that she was both unemployed and taken care of. Will she need to keep paying bills and rent or is it considered as if Jake was living “alone” now? She had to have a talk with him about it the next day.

He'd already left when she woke up, as usual leaving breakfast for her on the counter. She ate while scrolling through social media on her phone, and noticed it had low battery. There was no way for her to charge it- given the charging port was too far away and the charging cable was far too heavy and long for her to be able to lift it up. She sighed, disappointed she hadn’t thought of it beforehand to ask for Jake to help her with it before he left, or the night before. She’d have to stop using it to save up charge until he comes back. Until then, she’d continue their work on the doll house.

Jake, on the other hand, had a long day ahead. Both school and a shift at work to look forward to, he didn’t even know when he’d be back home. Oh how he longed to be back home and work on the doll house instead of all of this. But given Mar couldn’t work anymore, he’d be the only one providing for both of them, so he couldn’t afford to miss shifts at work.

“Hey,” he heard a familiar voice behind him. Emily jogged over to him as they both went to a shared class.

“Hey, how’s it going?” he asked as she caught her breath.

“Fine, but the more important question is how’s it going between you and Mar? Did you make up?”

“Yeah, sort of. I know we still have a long way to go but we had a talk, and she basically convinced me she forgives me. Anyway, I thought I’d use an opportunity to make it u to her anyway and got her a doll house.”

“No way, I hope she didn’t find that patro-“ Emily thought aloud but caught herself before finishing the sentence. It’s probably best if he doesn’t find out about that.

“What? You think she… she thinks it’s patronizing?” He began doubting himself again. Shit.

“No no, of course not, I’m just… wondering aloud. It just happened to me. When we thought that my shrinking was permanent, my parents also got me a doll house. I took it to mean they thought of me as a plaything and began spiraling into thinking they didn’t really love me. They had to get rid of it to convince me they did. I grew back, shortly after, but had to stay home for the next few weeks because I couldn’t control my shifting. It was so dependent on my feelings that I shrank and grew almost constantly, sometimes breaking things in my room when I grew too big. That made me feel even more helpless and THAT worsened my shifting. Took me years to manage it properly but, y’know, it’s all good now.” She realized she was rambling and finished before they reached the door of the lecture hall. Jake remained silent. Now he couldn’t help it. What if she does? What if getting her the doll house made her hate him even more? He’d have to hurry home after work.

It was too bad that by the time he did get home, it was too late. When he opened the door he found the apartment ransacked- furniture turned over, books and all sorts of things scattered around, electronics pulled out of the walls, Mar’s phone smashed, and his tiny friend- no where to be found.

[duhragonball]

Christ, I remember trying to watch NGE last year and falling off a few episodes in because nothing was happening and I found other stuff to binge that was more entertaining. I knew most of the infamous stuff happens in the latter half but how is this show 11 episodes in and still ass? At least now I know why Eva is mostly known for it's ending, there's virtually no beginning and thus far very little middle.

It's not a bad show, but yeah, it's kind of a letdown for me. I've been looking forward to this for a long time now, and it just doesn't seem to be measuring up. Maybe my expectations were unrealistic, but Evangelion always seemed to be this really cool, popular thing, and I wanted to know what all the fuss was about.

All that being said, let me dial back some of my negativity towards this show. It has its moments, often quiet, subtle touches that I can't really document with screenshots and a text synopsis. For example, when the kids are making their way through the base during the blackout, Asuka needles Shinji the whole time, then tries to do the same to Rei, and Rei completely no-sells it, just refuses to take the bait. She doesn't dispute Asuka's claims to leadership, but she doesn't recognize her authority either. And yet, when Asuka finally comes up with an actual plan to defeat their enemy, Rei agrees to follow her lead. It's not a question of respect or disrespect. She's just waiting for Asuka to cut out the bluster and be sensible.

This show reminds me of other anime TV series I've watched in the past. Noir. Excel Saga. Cowboy Bebop. Tenchi Universe. Tenchi in Tokyo. The Gonzo Hellsing series. Revolutionary Girl Utena. I feel like I'm forgetting something else, but the point is that they all sort of share a similar story structure, maybe because they're all TV series with similar lengths.

A few years back, I learned about cours, a term for a three month period in Japanese television. It's about thirteen weeks, which is why so many anime TV series are aired in multiples of 12 or 13 episodes. Jojo season 1 was 26 episodes, which was used to cover both Parts 1 and 2, which worked out, because Part 1 was a little too short for its own 3-month run, while Part 2 was a little too long. Part 3 was like forty-eight episodes, so that's four cours. Parts 4, 5, and maybe 6 were three cours apiece.

Of course, Jojo's Bizarre Adventure is based on a serial manga, but I'm pretty sure shows like the ones I mentioned above were wholly original, or only loosely based on a manga or OAV. Those shows, including NGE are designed to be 13, 26, or 39 episodes long, and the story is plotted accordingly. And they kind of operate the same way, spending a certain number of episodes introducing the characters, then doing a bunch of routine adventures, and then towards the last seven or eight episodes things start to get serious and the really plot-driven stuff happens.

I wouldn't quite call it a formula, but it explains why I keep finding NGE's pacing so familiar, even though I really haven't seen another show like it. I think what everyone remembers so fondly is the heavy stuff, where a lot of the secrets and mysteries get revealed, and all of these characters and relationships that have built up over the series get pushed to their limits. But if I'm right, that probably won't get rolling until Episode 18 or 19.

And if it is a formula, then it clearly works, or they wouldn't keep doing it. I guess that's just the difference between Japanese TV and direct-to-video stuff. I've been spoiled by shows like Hellsing Ultimate, where the episodes were variable-length, and organized for maximum effect, because there were no broadcast schedules or logistical issues to get in the way. I suspect a lot of these shows have a few weak episodes where nothing happens just to fill out the cour. They wrote 18 epsiodes' worth of story, but it has to be padded out to 26.

How you experience a show like NGE probably matters too. If I had seen Evangelion back in 2000, on the Toonami lineup, I probably would have only caught bits and pieces of it, eventually getting curious enough to make a deliberate effort to watch it all the way through and figure out just what was going on. That's how I got into Tenchi. I can imagine some small group of anime nerds getting together to watch NGE three episodes at a time, and if they're still somewhat new to this genre, it would blow them away. Sentimental value counts for a lot, but it's not something I can recapture just by watching it myself. But it's the best I can manage, and whether the show is good or not, at least I'll have the satisfaction of finding out.

[harryforvogue]

Part One | Chapter Two: Me And My Husband

Greenwich Village, New York

May 1919

Liberty Eagle Elementary lets out earlier than usual due to the heat wave. Parents gather outside the building, looking for their children. I walk out with two students, holding their hands reassuringly, and bring them out to the crowd. When they find their parents, they run to them, embracing as they always do because the 7 hours they've spent separated from one another are just cruel, and cruelly spent learning about things their little minds do not care for just yet.

My class is one of those, a tedious one no doubt, for children between the ages of 9 and 10. French is not an easy language to learn, and while I try my hardest to make the subject interesting, there will always be moments of frustration and exhaustion. The children surely complain about their horrible French teacher who forces them to make sounds they've never previously made, the sound of me echoing, "From the throat! From the throat, mes amies!" in their heads as they fall asleep at night.

The final child leaves and then I do as well, beginning the short walk home.

I do enjoy working with children, even though I complain about it often. Despite not being a very maternal person, I find children fun to be around. Their blunt way of speaking and frustrations are easy to share as an outsider in America. Children, I think, are outsiders after all, just learning to fit into the society of adults through the education they receive in these schools. They learn history, just as I did before arriving in New York, and they learn how to form proper sentences as I did when I was younger, my parents making sure I knew how to speak more than just French.

I'd like to be a close friend to these innocent children, but this may be because it's been a struggle to find my own adult friends during the two years I've been in America. New York, we researched, would be an area filled with strangers and people from all over, coming together to make a new culture, a new identity. Although I'm legally American now, I'm much more European in my ways and manner, the French in my culture.

I did insist when Harry proposed the idea of running away from England that it would take time to get used to a foreign place, but he welcomed the idea like a challenge while I worried at night.

Harry hasn't had the time to properly integrate himself into society yet, having just returned from France on Christmas last year. He was supposed to teach history in a high school just two miles from Liberty Eagle, but he's been failing his wellness examinations.

Harry and I run on a schedule on weekdays. At 7 in the morning, I wake up and get ready to go to school. Harry's normally already awake, eating his breakfast in the dining room. When I arrive downstairs, he'll pick his head up from the book he's reading and nod at the french press with the hot coffee. I'll sit across from him and sip at my coffee. I'll make small talk with him: "How did you sleep?" or "It was quite cold last night, wasn't it?" or "I think I'll be home a little late today." Harry nods and answers my questions and then tells me what he plans to make for dinner. I agree with him and then say goodbye. He follows me to the door and locks it behind me.

Weekends are trickier. I wake up later than usual and lazily move to the kitchen. Harry wakes at his usual time, this time sitting on the couch, reading his book. I make the same small talk, but this time I can't run away from the awkwardness between us. I sit there and try to continue the conversation with him. Then I do that for Sunday.

When I arrive home today, Harry's pacing in the living room, running a hand messily through his hair. It used to be longer than it is now, touching his shoulders, but since he had an evaluation today, he was forced to cut it. I can see his face much better this way and the white scar that cuts through his left eyebrow. His curls are healthy and dark, bouncing back as he continues to mess with them. The sound of the door closing causes him to look up, startled.

"Hi," I say, putting my bag down. I remove my shoes and open the collar of my shirt. "It's very hot outside. They let us out early."

Harry nods. His own collar is open. "It is hot."

"How did your evaluation go?"

"I didn't pass."

He's laid out the papers with the red slashes on the dining table. I pick up one sheet and peer at it, tackling all the red specifically. Harry continues to pace behind me, the wood floor creaking under his weight.

The comment at the bottom reads:

Although Mr. Styles has shown promise in his recovery, the Board of Administrations believes some more time would be suitable before allowing Mr. Styles to return. Mr. Styles' progression is impressive compared to previous evaluations, however, we cannot permit him to return to his post and continue working with children. We will reconvene and reevaluate Mr. Styles August 25, 1919.

I look through the rest of the documents. "They didn't even give a reason?"

"They said there's something off about me," Harry says, taking the paper from me. "Fuck's sake."

At first glance, Harry does seem recovered and collected, but when you hear him speak and spend time with him, you suspect he may be on the verge of a breakdown at any given moment. I don't reply, unsure whether or not to show my support of this evaluation. Time off has been good for Harry, I agree, and his condition shouldn't affect how he behaves with children.

Harry itches to return back to work. It's partially because he doesn't like the fact that I'm single handedly keeping our heads above water and partially because he chooses to ignore the impact of his military service on him.

"Annaliese," he says, leaning against the wall connecting our dining room and kitchen. He looks very attractive in his suit as opposed to his normal casual wear. "I don't know how much longer I can do this."

His eyelids are heavy, and he looks tired, shoulders falling from exhaustion.

"August 25 is only three months away," I tell him in an attempt to be optimistic. "You'll be back just in time for the reopening of schools."

"If I pass."

"I know you will." I smile at him, nodding firmly. "I believe it."

His eyes narrow, resting his head back against the wall. "You've said that the past two times."

It's true, but I know he's closer to passing this time. "We'll be alright, Harry. If you're worried about the money, it's not all that bad. We have savings and more than enough to keep us comfortable. That, plus what the government sends us for your service."

Harry pushes himself off the wall and gathers all the papers, tucking them into the manila folder. He sits down heavily and rubs his temple, taking a few deep breaths.

"Sit, Annaliese."

I do, watching him carefully.

He takes a moment to gather his thoughts. "I want to get out of here," he says, leaning in as if he's telling me a secret. "How about this weekend?"

A getaway? Now? "Harry, you can't keep running from your problems."

"It was your idea to run away the first time, Annaliese," he says dryly with a twitch of his scarred eyebrow. "You wanted to avoid the war."

Irritation pricks at my face. "And you wanted to run from your father."

Harry's jaw tenses as it always does his father is brought up in conversation, but he attacked first, so it's my turn. "I'm not running away from anything. And you'd be there too."

I lean back against the chair, surprised. "You'd want me to go with you?"

"Christ, you think I'd go by myself? Don't be ridiculous."

"Well, yes," I say sharply. "You're the type to do that."

"Maybe before I had a wife I would. So will you come?" He pauses and fixes his impatient tone. "I'm thinking of Atlantic City. You said your friend was there just last month."

My friend he's remembering is the neighbor. Her name is Alexandra, a mother of two, and the most insufferable woman I've ever met, but she's the only one who I've been able to speak to thanks to the close proximity. I always bump into her when she's walking to work in the same direction as me.

"Right, but I'd have to ask her how to get there and you know how much I hate talking to her. My life goal is to avoid her at all costs. Last time I went over for a recipe, she told me about her weird brother who threatened to kill his wife. Now, why the hell would I want to hear about that?"

"I know. I'd go if I could, but we need those directions soon. Pop in and get the directions, and leave."

"You know she's going to hold me hostage, Harry."

"I know. But it's better than blindly figuring it out ourselves. It's Wednesday. Is the weekend too soon for you?"

"No," I reply, thinking about my kids and how they could probably use a lighter lesson on Friday. "I should be good."

"Do you want to go?" From his voice, I can tell he's worried about him being my only company. I wish he'd look at me.

Of course I want to go, and the thought of being alone with just Harry and nowhere to run is exciting, but nerve wracking.

I recall the last time he said to me he wanted to just leave for a few days. It was only 3 years ago after he had a physical fight with his father and came back wounded and blind angry, seething with rage and the need to physically harm something else. After I ordered him to sit still so I could clean the blood spilling from his shoulder where his father's ring had cut him, he demanded we go someplace, just the two of us. It had been our first getaway, our first night alone from his family who I was staying with. Just the two of us, nervous young adults in a hotel room with one bed and barely enough space to pass each other.

This time is different. Instead of deciding for the two of us that we needed to leave our home for a weekend, he's asking. One proper glance at his face tells me he's growing more and more desperate with every passing second I spend not replying to him.

"I do," I tell him sincerely. "I'll go see Alexandra before dinner. Harry, are you sure this is what you want? When we come back, all of this will still be here. This anxiety about the evaluations, the need to return back to work when you're still unable to. It won't just go away while we do."

Harry nods, absentmindedly looking over my shoulder. "I know. But just for two days, I'll be alright."

"Is two days really enough? Shouldn't we work on this fear together? Here? We have to one day."

"Annaliese," Harry says, focusing back on me briefly, nervously messing with his sleeves. "I don't want to. I want to go away and come back with a clearer head. I don't care that it's not a long term solution. It'll help me for two days and that's more than I already get."

That's the thing about Harry: he's stubborn. I love him dearly, but he doesn't budge when he makes a decision until I argue with him about it. These days, we don't argue a lot. Albeit, we don't talk much either, and sometimes I miss those nights where we'd yell at each other, passionately arguing for ourselves and then reaching a common goal, returning to bed happily. It's the nature of our relationship and it has been for the years I've been with him. It's one of the things I love about him: how passionate he can be for the things he believes in. A part of me wants to go against my own wishes and argue with him about this proposed getaway, just to rile him and demand him to yell, fight for what he believes in instead of holding back and returning to his own room, leaving me alone in the dining room until I head back to my room. This is the irrational part of me.

The more rational part of me reminds myself that Harry has been through a lifetime worth of trouble and avoiding those kinds of arguments are best for his health, mentally and emotionally. I can't help but feel selfish when I want him to talk to me like he used to, touch me like he used to, and kiss me. He's rarely ever around me and when he is, he's rarely ever fully present.

"I'll talk to Alexandra today and we'll figure all of this out tonight."

He nods and then stands up, tucking the manila folder under his arm. "I'll start on dinner then."

Before he can leave, I stand up and quickly grab his sleeve, halting him in his steps. He looks at me and then glances down at my hand clutching his shirt.

"Can you stay in our room tonight?" I quickly ask before my confidence leaves me. "I'd really like that. It's been so long since we've slept together."

His eyes have darkened by the time he looks back at my face, jaw tense. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why not?" I press, stepping closer. I lay a hand on his torso and feel his stomach muscles tense. "Harry, it's been months."

"I don't want to. I want my own room--"

"But--"

"Annaliese, please don't argue with me right now. I have a headache."

"I don't mean you have to sleep with me. I don't mean sex. Just want you to sleep in the same bed as me. Like a normal married couple."

I let go of him when he doesn't reply, taking a step back. "I haven't even done anything to you. Why are you punishing me?" I demand.

Here come the fucking tears. God, I hate being weak. Desperate to hide them, I blink furiously and look at our feet, trying even out my voice. "If I've done something wrong, I'd like you to tell me so I can apologize and work on being better." Realizing my tears will not just dry up, I look back up to his stoic expression, demanding through my swimming vision, "What did I do?"

Harry watches a tear slide down my face and then my hand that angrily wipes it away. A muscle in his jaw jumps. "I didn't say you did anything. If anything, sleeping next to you is a punishment for me," Harry says quietly, stepping back, turning towards the kitchen. I reach out and quickly grab his shirt again, holding him in place.

"No. You don't get to walk away from this conversation. I've been trying to have it for months now. Why would it be a punishment for you? What have I done to you that's so bad, you can't find it in yourself to forgive me?"

"Christ, Annaliese. Let me go," Harry says coldly. He moves out of my grasp despite my strong hold on him and disappears into the kitchen. "Let me start on dinner and we can talk about this later."

We are not going to talk about it later. He's made excuses many times. I drag a hand over my face to catch any residue of my weakness. Helpless is what I feel now, and especially when he walks away from an important, long overdue conversation we must have. All I want is to be able to read his mind for a day, just to know what's troubling him the most. Instead of being helpful, I feel like a mother who can't get her child to sit still and just listen. Perhaps my help at the school feels rewarding because those children demonstrate that they've learned the lessons I've been teaching them. With Harry, it's like talking to a wall sometimes. It was never like that before.

I gather myself and then exit the house, walking across the street to Alexandra's house.

***

Alexandra never talks about anything positive, especially when it comes to gossip. She makes me write down the instructions on how to get to Atlantic City after getting the information from her husband, and then begins her usual gossip.

Then, to my horror, she makes me sit down for a cup of tea.

"My cousin's husband was diagnosed just last week," she starts, taking a sip of her tea.

I desperately look at the door, hoping someone will save me from this conversation, but nothing happens. I glance back at her and offer her a tight smile. "I hope everything is okay."

Alexandra has lived in America her whole life. Her grandparents came to America from Ireland in the early 19th century and lived in New York. Alexandra grew up in the south, in Georgia, and moved here to live with her husband who I rarely ever see. She's quite attractive with her long dark hair, blue eyes, and thin mouth, but as soon as she begins talking, all the beauty goes down the drain. More specifically, I want to pull my hair out.

She still talks with a slight southern accent which is very hard for me to understand at times because I've never heard it in my life. My accent isn't any easier for her to understand, but while I try to listen closely and not ask her to repeat often, she doesn't care about kind gestures and often asks me to repeat what I'm saying.

Since I've come here and people have told me that I'm barely understandable, I've tried to put on a bit of an American accent, trying to mimic their rude way of speaking and their lingo, but I can't always hide my natural accent. I don't know some words in English either. I always imagined that there would be more French speaking people in New York as I heard that there would be all kinds of people here, but I've yet to meet any. In the meantime, I stuck with the insufferable woman who insists on telling me about things I don't care about.

"He's got the disease everyone's talking about. You know..." she gestures to her gut, "down there."

"Oh," I say, swallowing the overly sweet tea. "I'm sorry to hear about that. I hope he recovers soon."

"Yeah, I doubt he will. It's just awful. It's terrible." Alexandra's eyes shine as they do whenever her evil mind thinks of something wicked to say or hear. "Maybe this vacation will be a perfect time to check if your husband is suffering too."

I choke on my tea and cough quickly, patting my chest. "Excuse me?" I demand.

She tucks her black hair back and shrugs innocently. "Aren't you curious? Maybe that's the reason he hasn't been sleeping with you." She catches the expression on my face. "Oh, Annaliese, I didn't mean to offend you!"

"Harry does not have... that!"

Alexandra hides behind her tea, blinking. "How do you know?"

"He just doesn't! Besides, you can tell from the symptoms!" And he'd tell me.

I stand up and put my tea down, grabbing my bag. Anger is coursing through me like a river. I'm not angry at the possibility of Harry being ill, but the nerve of her to disregard any respectful boundaries and reach into my life without a second thought. "My God. Thank you for the tea, but I must leave now. I...I have to pack."

She jumps up too. "Oh, I'm terribly sorry! You know I didn't mean to be rude!"

I ignore her, quickly walking away before I feel the need to physically maim her. I open the door, step out, and slam it behind me.

I hear her voice calling my name, but I need to remove myself from the situation. I've always had a bit of a temper when I was younger. Seems like it never went away. It's something Harry's always laughed about.

Back at home, Harry's cleaning the rice, straining it as he holds it under an open faucet. There is a boiling pot of water on the stove and he looks up at me when I stomp in, caught off guard. The expression on his face tells me I've frightened him with my loud noises. He looks out the window at Alexandra standing outside her porch with a frown on her face.

"Everything okay?" he asks uneasily. "What did you do to her?" He puts the strainer down. "Annaliese, don't tell me you hit her."

I shake my head, forcing my steps to be lighter. He rinses the rice one more time. "I didn't, but I swear one of these days I will."

"Oh, God."

"Harry," I say, reaching out to touch his sleeve. I immediately pull back before I touch the material of his shirt. "Sorry. Can I ask you something?"

"Sure." He wearily looks at my hand.

Harry slowly pushes the washed rice into the boiling water and then gives me his attention.

I'm not really about to ask him this, right? He waits for me to say something.

"Nothing," I dismiss, looking away embarrassed. Opening a drawer, I remove a wooden spoon and hold it out. "It's nothing. Here."

He takes it from me and confusedly begins stirring the rice. "Did Alexandra say something to you?"

"Yes and I got out of there before I punched her face in. It was a close call this time."

"Oh," he says, slightly amused. "That's quite like you. Did you get the directions?"

"I did." I produce the paper from my pocket and hold it out for him. He opens it and glances over it quickly while stirring.

"Well, that's simple, I'd say. Are you sure everything is alright?"

I nod, swallowing hard. "Yes. We should do laundry before we go and then pack."

"Okay," Harry says, looking away. The tension returns between us and it's so intense, I need to remove myself from this conversation immediately.

"I'll see you at dinner then."

Harry nods and quietly answers, "Bye."

I walk around him, half waiting for him to call me back. He doesn't.

[tokidokitokyo]

2023年5月31日

TL;DR: Don't feel inadequate if your language learning journey is not the same as that of others. Your path is valid and you are doing great!

May seemed to just speed on by! And now it's time for my monthly Japanese study log. I think this month I felt a lot of shame for not having time to do the big goals that I have set for myself, and seeing people on langblr or studyblr accomplishing a lot of big goals makes me feel inadequate. It's important to remember that your language journey is your own, not someone else's, and there is no shame in going at your own pace. I try to focus on the things that I accomplish and not make the journeys that other people are on into some kind of impossible standard to hold myself to. Look at your own learning through the lens of how far you have come, and you will feel less like you are lacking.

つまり、自分なりに言語の勉強を続いてね。周りの人の道は自分とは違っても、自分でも成長していますね。これからも続きましょう！

5月はあっという間に終了です！今からは日本語の勉強日記を書こうと思います。今月は大きいな目標をなかなか進まなくて辛かったです。それに、タンブラーやインスタグラムの勉強垢をよく見てて、なんか自分が足りないって感じていました。日本語や言語の勉強は自分のやり方で自分のペースで進んだ方がいいと覚えた方がいいと思いますから、それを頑張って思い出そうとしています。他人の成長を見ながら自分の成長が足りないなと思うことはよくやりますが、それを辞めるように努力します。一か月や一年前の自分を見たら、今まですごく成長してきたと気づいたら、足りなくないとわかるかもしれません。

My 2023 Goals Progress

I laid out some broad goals for my Japanese study in my 2023 Japanese Language Goals post, so, as always, I start off my update with my progress towards these goals.

1. Read one page a day of 日本の歴史366 (にほんのれきし366) everyday in 2023.

How is it going? Good! I am finally getting back on track after setbacks from late work nights, illness, and vacation time. Since this is a page-a-day study book, I would have preferred to keep reading in order and to catch up on the days I missed reading, but that was physically impossible due to a lack of time in general. So I am continuing on even though I skipped some days because it's good reading practice and I still learn vocabulary and kanji daily.

2. Finish 日本語総まとめ N3 (にほんごそうまとめ N3) workbooks.

How is it going? Good! I have been doing one workbook daily entry per day for at least 2 days a week. There are 4 workbooks (Vocabulary, Kanji, Grammar, Listening) with 6 weeks and 6-7 daily entries per week. I am still on Week 5 out of 6 weeks, but I am progressing much more than I did last year (or the year before that lol).

I take my time with each lesson, reviewing the vocab/kanji/grammar points meticulously, so that I absorb the information rather than just rush through it. Sometimes I already know most of the vocab or kanji or grammar, but other days require more focus. I feel like I am retaining more information by doing it little-by-little, rather than just trying to get as much done as possible in one sitting. In May, I didn't review the lessons afterwards and throughout the week, so I might take some extra time to do that once I finish the series.

3. Review and learn the first 6 levels of the 常用漢字 (じょうようかんじ), specifically the 教育漢字 (きょういくかんじ) up to grade 6.

How is it going? Okay. I have been trying to focus on Joyo Kanji in my kanji reviews, so I went back to Grade 1 kanji to start my review. It helps me to figure out which ones I know well and where I am struggling. Goal: Review through at least grade 3 during the month of June.

4. Read at least one book every two months.

How is it going? Not great. I haven't had the time (nor the motivation) to pick back up the books I stopped in March, and I'm trying to be okay with that ^^; I would like to pick back up one book in June and try to finish it by July. One thing that I am continuing to read is the Gekkan Shojo Nozaki-kun manga series (in small chunks, usually before bed).

5. Improve my speaking and writing by finding a tutor.

How is it going? It could be better. I am going to set a deadline for finally finding a tutor. I just worry that if I find a tutor I won't be able to commit to a regular schedule and I'll just drop off like I have before. I keep thinking if I had more time to search for a tutor it'd be more permanent, but I think I am just procrastinating (shocked gasps from all). There's also a small worry about the financial commitment, but I am going to try to be frugal in other areas to allow for this luxury. Goal: I will find a tutor by June 30th (or at least start making regular appointments with tutors).

I've also added on to this goal that I would like to start writing sentences on HelloTalk so that I can get feedback without needing a tutor. This might help me to get motivated to improve instead of being terrified of making mistakes. Goal: Write one sentence a day on HelloTalk in June.

6. Study Japanese for at least 10 minutes every day.

How is it going? Good! Thank goodness I have been studying Japanese every day for so long that it's not even something I have to think about trying to fit into my schedule anymore.

May Study Log

This month my top study areas were Vocabulary, Kanji, and Speaking. I spent the least time studying Grammar and practicing Writing.

Study Methods I Used in May

Social Media

Not only did I use apps like renshuu.org (flash cards) and Easy Japanese (articles in Japanese) to study in May, I also used Instagram and started back up on HelloTalk. The idea is to interact with social media in a meaningful way by reading and writing in Japanese. I commented on other user's posts and reached out to some of them as well to start a conversation. The only drawback to this method is that you can get lost in endless doom scrolling if you don't focus on what you are there for (i.e. interaction) and just get lost in the algorithm.

Conversation

I speak Japanese daily (with my husband and son) and since my son is starting to speak in 3-4 word sentences and to copy our speech patterns, I am more mindful of what I am saying to him and how I am saying it (for example, using 大変 instead of やばい ^^;). However, when speaking with my husband it is easier to fall into a Japanglish routine with him, to drop formality and be lazy with sentence construction, and to speak in a more masculine way (because I tend to mimic the speech patterns of those I am speaking with). I have recently made a few Japanese mom friends with whom I can practice Japanese conversation. So I try to utilize our play dates by speaking both formal and casual Japanese, being mindful of my interactions, and trying to utilize new words or grammar points. Using Japanese is the best way to improve it, after all. The only drawback is that the conversation practices can be spaced few and far between, so spending time mindfully speaking at home is also important.

Reading

I have been doing far less reading than I was at the beginning of the year, but I still try to read something for just a few minutes a day to practice reading. Either an article, manga, or even just social media, just to keep myself practicing. Like conversation practice, the best way to improve my reading skills is to keep reading. The drawback is that if I try to read a book but then I have to put it down for a while, I forget what was happening or I lose my motivation to keep reading it because I feel like I am not making progress. If reading books is just not feasible due to a time crunch, I find it much better to read something shorter (articles or part of a manga), and I try not to be hard on myself for not reading a whole book when it seems like everyone else is reading tons of books every month.

Going Forward in June

Be continuous with 日本の歴史366

Focus on grades 1-3 of 教育漢字

Start regular italki tutor sessions

Write in Japanese on HelloTalk

Read one of the books I started earlier in the year by the end of July

I've been studying Japanese for a long time and I still feel inadequate a lot of the time. If you have studied Japanese for any amount of time, please be proud of yourself. You've done something that a lot of people only wish they could do. As always, I wish you much success in your language endeavors, and I hope we can continue on this journey together (no matter where our paths take us)!

長い間日本語を勉強しててもまだまだ足りないと思てます。今までちょっとでも長い間でも日本語を勉強している人に伝いたいことは、よく頑張ったね！日本語を勉強したくても勉強したことない人もたくさんいますので、勉強している人はすごいと思います。そして、自分なりにつづいてください。これからも、皆さん勉強の成功と成長を願っています。どんな道でも、一緒に勉強を続きましょう！

[queenofthursday6599-blog]

So apparently they (I'm assuming the government, but it could be a movement of parents, I'm not too sure I haven't looked into it that much) are trying to get rid of special ed classes, along with gifted and talented classes, to just have all kids in one classroom.

Why.

What purpose would that serve?

If the kid is struggling in class due to their disability why would you insist on them not being in a special ed class? Where they can better have their needs met by a specifically trained special ed teacher?

There's no point to it that I can think of, other than wanting to shove as many kids in one class as possible under a single teacher.

Same with getting rid of gifted and talented programs (though I do think like the vast majority of those programs are structured really poorly, and are in need of overhauling anyways).

Schools just don't want to pay for extra teachers, and parents don't want to hear that their kid isn't smart enough for certain classes. Be it the mainline classes, or the gifted classes.

Like even I, as just a child growing up with just ADHD on a 504 plan, struggled to the point of leaving public school and switching to homeschooling in high school.

In middle school there were times were I would spend weeks at a time spending my lunch in ISS (in school suspension) desperately trying to get caught up with my peers on assignments.

And I preferred that.

At that point I was so desperate to try and keep up with my peers that I preferred having to spend my lunch and recess in the detention hall, sitting at a desk where the dividers are set up so you can't see any other students, where it was quiet and there was nothing to distract me because talking was forbidden.

I went through years of parent teacher conferences hearing my teachers tell my mother that I was "really bright, but if she could just focus/pay attention, and remember to do xyz".

Like I wasn't medically diagnosed with a neurological difference that made doing those things extremely difficult in the framework the school was set up in.

The main thing I remember about junior high, is me nearly sprinting through the two stories of the school desperately trying to figure out where the hell I was supposed to be going.

Because every day had a different set of classes I was supposed to go to, and the schedule changed with the semester. So by the time I finally managed to memorize the pattern, it would change and I had to start from zero again.

Not to mention teachers are already hella over worked, and now they want to also have mainline teachers have to try and teach students who would probably be better in a special ed class (which have a max of 15* students).

Along with the kids who fly through mainline coursework in half the time as the rest of the kids and are then left to screw around for the rest of class, distracting their classmates.

[*Which is about half the size of the biggest mainline class I was ever in. A class that I in fact flunked out of and had to take remedial classes for, because so many other students distracted me to high hell.

Remedial classes, which I flew through in less than a month because you did it at your own pace on the computer, so there was nothing to distract me.

After which I got bumped to the only remaining Sci class that fit into my schedule, which had only 12 students including me, which I then mysteriously flourished in.]

I don't understand it. I don't. I just can't help but feel like this is setting up a number of kids, disabled and not, up for failure in an already shitty school system.

What else could be the appeal to having all these kids of different learning ability all stuffed into one class room be? Other than not wanting to pay for the special classes and extra teachers (be they special ed or gifted and talented), or parents not wanting to admit that their kid is disabled and just needs extra help with some things.

Like this is either a money issue, or this is an abileist parents issue, and I don't know which.

[system-of-a-feather]

This isn't about remissed states, but I'm hoping it's ok to ask a different question?

We're a system that naturally switches a lot. We don't track our switches very closely (it overwhelms us and can lead to rapid switching for some reason) but as far as we can tell, we typically switch several times a day.

What we find is that if any one of us tries to hold front for too long, we get more and more fatigued. Some of us seem to get tired from it faster than others, but in general, we have a really hard time holding front for longer than a couple of hours. Which can be disruptive at times.

I've heard the term "front tired" before, but I can't seem to find any information about it besides just seeing that other people have experienced it too. What I'm wondering if you'd know is how we could increase each of our "stamina" for holding front? Is it something that gets easier with practice, or system communication, or learning how to dissociate less?

I feel it depends on what is the source of the "front tired" / front fatigue (which is what we tend to / used to call it).

Usually for us, it would be typically due to one part being stretched too thin and doing too many functioning tasks that are outside of their current wheelhouse and/or life being too much for that one part to hold the front for a while. I think what tends to help in this case is not necessarily to focus on "extending stamina" as much as it is coordinating with other parts to make the switches less disruptive and/or create a rhythm where the fronting fatigue is avoided pre-emptively / relatively expected.

In regards to coordinating with other parts, it mostly means a soft division of labor, improving communication about what you are all doing that day and in life and just trying to keep people on the same page to know how things are done. It's easier said than done but this is a lot of communication work - but occasionally when you feel front fatigue, I'd recommend trying to internally check in and see if anyone is there and - rather than being forced in or out - try to do a brief comment in passing and try to lean into it. Fighting fronting fatigue is honestly really hard and in our experience, not worth it and its a lot easier to just lean into it and invest more into making sure the person who is swapping in knows whats up.

Additionally, if you can generally estimate how long a part can typically handle the front and figure out what "rhythm" your system has, you can kind of try to make a soft schedule that serves as kind of guidelines as to when you should try to give up the front and try to find another part so that you can take a break and properly coordinate somewhat on how things are going.

Example: Riku and XIV are main hosts however both tend to get fatigued and/or very symptomatic if they are out for too long periods; as a result when we are not sitting in a final fused state, they have a rule of thumb that they both should be out for at least an hour (ideally at least 3-4 hours) a day just to pace each other's energy. Overtime by getting good at leaning into switches before they were forced to switch, they got into the habit of being able to just routinely say "hey my turn, clock out" so that the other could take a break. And we honestly very literally do talk about it like shifts at work cause thats how we've grown to see working as a system. Not one part can do all things, hell not even most things, on their own - so we have shifts where we trust other parts to do Their Stuff and then shifts where we do Our Stuff. It works out a lot better to swim with the current of DID than trying to fight the disorder

Fronting fatigue in our experience tends to come as a physiological way of our brain telling us that a certain part is at their limit for the period of time and honestly, its important to respect the limits your brain / body is telling you as identifying your limits and respecting them is a huge part of healing. Then, as you heal, in my experience your "fronting stamina" tends to extend over time as things get less taxing and parts can tolerate more time at the front.

That would be my opinion / take in regards to a more long term solution.

In the short run and/or acute run, I find that it helps to lower a lot of potential stimulus and/or stressors that might be around. A lot of dissociative folk are accustomed to being in a very dulled and muted haze and / or just straight up not mentally being present so actually being even remotely engaged in the real present moment can be overwhelming and exhausting in a way that can be pretty subtle and hard to notice until it hits you.

So sometimes, if it is possible, reducing the amount of stimuli and things around you that puts a demand on your brain to process it (sounds, smell, social interaction, temperature, etc) can help sometimes in my experience. There are also more abstract things that can add to it or reduce it though, so honestly its good in the short run to check in with yourself and ask what is "too much" and what is taking the most of your mental energy at the moment.

Not all things can be adjusted though, and it's more coping with the short term than necessarily smoothing out the long run, but coping is always better than - well - not coping XD

Also sometimes I found that when you hit a "fronting fatigue" wall, sometimes just dropping what you have been doing and completely changing gears to something else (often opposite) can be a good way to reset shit, the only issue is - in my experience - that tends to require executive function that I don't usually have when I hit those walls XD But I have before just hit the wall and wanted to / needed to stay front for one reason or the next and I'd go from being online or doing homework to just get up and sit under a tree with my birds and draw for a bit. Shake things up a bit, but honestly, this is stupid hard to do when the fatigue hits so it might not be worth it either but, hey worth sharing.

But TLDR, yeah it gets better with time and with practice for the most part.

(PS: Honestly if anyone has any questions I'm honestly having a ball answering these cause its kind of astonishing how much cohesive our understanding of system dynamics are and how much of a larger picture we have of things as a whole, which like the Ray part of our brain is like "its really not anything special" cause that part of our brain is the Main Gatekeeper meanwhile the Riku part of our brain - who is a very very proud know-nothing himbo - is just radiating shook at how clear things are and its both funny and amazing)

[pessiofficial]

barca vs. celta vigo match analysis (9/23/23)

where can we start with this game? i think the most obvious place is saying that marcos alonso has no place within the barca a, b, c or even on the youth team!!!

other than that, i feel like we definitely picked up the pace going into the second half, especially in those last 20 minutes. celta vigo is a team notorious for being our achilles' heel, so i was kind of expecting this and wasn't that surprised about the scoreline in the first half.

squad rotation was a big thing in this game so i'm not that upset -- xavi was experimenting with our defensive line, but i hope he's learned that marcos alonso is an issue. every time he plays we concede. but after araujo came in and our back line was kounde, cancelo, araujo, and balde, we looked a whole lot better.

a little worried about the frenkie injury, he's world class right now and i hope this doesn't affect his form.

i have to give some credit where credit is due to that offense in the last few minutes. gavi, the joaos, lewy, and raphinha were all amazing and they really brought the pressure which eventually paid off.

whoever said gavi wasn't a playmaker, let your apologies be as loud as your disrespect. we really found the rhythm and creativity when he came on. easily my favorite player on that pitch tonight!

the high line we were playing was very obviously not working, but i'm not too surprised, and i don't think xavi will try it again because celta kept getting around it again and again.

anyway, great performance in those last ten minutes, so glad we got the joaos and we need to sign them on a lifetime deal asap!! i will lock them in my attic and never let them go :)

finally we've unlocked the remontada trait! can't wait to see where this season takes us, and i'm not too stressed because we are trying to rotate the squad with the busy schedule coming up. excited to see how we perform against porto, which will be our first real challenge before the clasico/atleti game!

[maiji]

Something I'm excited about with regards to finishing fight / flight is that now I can finally post a new batch of images to Pixiv! Not just fight / flight, but also other illustrations I finished over the period of time and/or forgot to previously post to the North Bound series there. I really wanted to do one last illustration of these three to close it off. 

I usually wait a day, several days before posting art/comics to other platforms. Partly to spread out the update spam, partly to try to increase visibility, but mostly because 9 times out of 10 if I post things too fast I almost immediately discover some silly mistakes and then I'm crying inside because I'm repeatedly editing, reposting, finding another mistake, repeat etc... and/or I can't edit a post on some platforms and have to delete it all and start over. So I try to pace myself a bit, giving myself a little distance and opportunity to be more aware and mindful. (Sometimes it works. Sometimes I'm like, who cares, no one will notice except me, and move on with my life.)

It's always hard to assess your own work objectively. Projects like North Bound are particularly interesting because of the funny elasticity of time that you have with all the different pieces of it. That some ideas are so old and you're finally getting to them after all these months/years or other people are finally seeing them when you've already long moved on to something else. That different things are at varying stages of conception and sketching and refining and finishing, and so on. Webcomic creators are very familiar with the concept of "webcomic time". I think anyone who works in a field where there's a lag between the initial conceptualization of something and the actual publishing/launching it out into the world know what I mean. Webcomic time maybe even more so because the barriers to entry for webcomics can be wonderfully low and webcomic creators often do SO MUCH in the production so lots of people get to commiserate in this funny space/feeling together. To be honest I think I feel it with North Bound even more than I ever felt it with Now Recharging. The latter I worked on in a relatively regular fashion to hit specific posting schedules, while North Bound really is whenever I can squeeze in the time and motivation and also problem-solve narrative issues.

Looking back, Mirror Most Dark (completed 2017), I Heard A Cicada Cry (completed 2020), Survive (2021) and fight / flight (2024) (see them all here) form a four story set as "this is North Bound Hokushin's formative time before he meets Raizen". But what I really like is that they feel pretty self-contained - more like "this is an interesting little supernatural historical fiction-y series of stories". (Enough so that I actually woke up one night thinking, "Hey, this set of stories would actually make a pretty robust printed book! The 3 comic stories alone come to 108 pages! I wonder how many pages Mirror Most Dark would come to if I re-laid it out as a printed illustrated story... I'd have to redraw the illustrations in black and white to be able to print it more cost-effectively and match the style of the comic stories..." and then I was like no, you already have enough things to work on, and you don't need another box of books sitting in your closet for the next 10+ years.)

Working on these helps me really appreciate the art and craft of storytelling and building out/fleshing out a character, and also pushes me to try so many things I otherwise wouldn't have the opportunity to. Mirror Most Dark, the oldest work in this group, still holds up not too badly (though there are a lot of errors and issues, and many things I would change if I were attempting it today...), and some panels and sequences I've been very proud of throughout the stories. When I reread them I do always see little things I'd like to fix, but overall... I made them, I learned from them, they exist, and it was all a very worthwhile experience!

[pianocat939]

This is probably and odd thing to ask but I've been learning piano for about a year now and I wanna know how your practice goes?

I wanna get better so I can play the songs I like :>

HOH- HOH NEVER IMAGINED I WOULD SEE THIS

But yeah sure I'll tell you. Now, this is my 8th year of piano(?). I would say my practice schedule might be a little bit more than the average pianist considering I take college lessons/I am at college level.

So I practice 6 days a week, with weekly lessons. I don't practice the day I have a lesson since I consider that as a practice itself.

I first start off with scales (If you haven't learned scales, learn it now, because it is CRUCIAL to have good technique and fluidity within your fingers.) I do 4-octave scales, with my current daily list being C Major, Harmonic/Melodic A minor, G major and then finally harmonic/melodic E minor.

But considering your level I would do one-octave scales and stick to 1/2 scales a day. Now you can change which scale you want to do. You can change up which ones you wish to do of course.

Now I should be doing this every day, but I don't because I'm focusing on perfecting my scales than Hanon/Czerny. If you don't know what it is, it's basically exercises similar to scales to increase fluidity and technique. They have levels from beginner to advanced, and the books are cheap. I would say half the price of a regular sheet music book. Just do an exercise a day, and do it until you can do it CLEANLY and a moderately fast pace.

From there just practice whatever songs you're working on! I make sure to do all my songs at least once. (The very long ones I just do a certain section). Make sure to write down or circle any mistakes you made. This helps with cleaning up and preventing trouble spots.

Another thing I would add is, if you take lessons from a teacher, write down whatever corrections or guidance they have for you. My old teacher did it for me, but ever since I started taking college lessons I've had to do it myself. SO DO IT ISTG.

I don't practice by time...I just do it until I'm satisfied. My rival does it on time and I think he practices 1-2 hours a day. But he and I take different approaches (He's more emotional and dramatic. I'm more technical and articulate).

That's all I can say.