#la bise is cool actually

[girafeduvexin]

Unpopular opinion de ouf mais j'aime trop faire la bise et qu'on me fasse la bise, pas à n'importe qui non plus mais j'aime trop ce moment de ta relation avec quelqu'un où t'es "bon bah j'ai envie de coller ta joue contre la mienne et faire semblant d'embrasser l'air pour te dire bonjour", insane ritual, tu embrasses sans embrasser.

Et j'aime encore plus quand c'est vraiment des ami.e.s/famille et la bise devient de vrais bisous sur la joue, genre allez on arrête de faire semblant, je t'aime trop pour ça.

[is-it-mungojerry-or-rumpelteazer]

Tips for writing French characters

So I’ve been reading a lot of Les Miz fanfiction lately, and a lot of it is set in France. And although it is usually very good and most authors have really done their homework (I’m honestly very very impressed!), sometimes it is kind of very obvious the writers aren’t French. So, in no particular order, a few tips for writing French characters, from what has jumped out to me from fics.

Disclaimer: I am only one person. Not everything I say is necessarily 100% true in every context.

The “little death” metaphor for orgasms is not a thing!! I don’t know where it comes from, but nobody says that. It is actually commonly referred to as a joke about clueless foreigners trying to sound cool.

Berets are a thing... for old men in the countryside trying to keep their balding spots warm. Wearing a beret in France doesn’t make you look stylish: it makes you look like someone’s grandpa.

Racism in France is (at least in people’s minds) very linked to xenophobia. The concept itself of “race” is kind of taboo. So a racist person (unless they are like really really openly racist) is a lot less likely to use your colour against you than to use your (perceived) origin. The expression “person of colour” doesn’t exist outside of activist circles influenced by American culture.

The biggest non-European region of origin for immigrants is the Maghreb (that is commonly referred to as ‘Arabs’ even though they are technically not), followed by South-Saharan Africa. So if you’re making your characters non-white, those are your most prevalent places of origin. Also, most of France’s immigration comes from ex-colonies, which means that immigrants usually speak perfect French, but with very recognizable accents.

No European person would complain about a city center being chaotic. All European city centers are chaotic, people are used to it!

There are two types of Parisians: those who love Paris and those who could spend the rest of their lives complaining about it.

Tipping is not a thing. Waiters have real (if shitty) salaries, so you tip them as a reward if they’ve done something really nice, like keep the restaurant open later, or if you are feeling rich; but nobody expects you to. Advantage? You can use someone tipping someone they know as a gesture (a reconciliation, for example)

In that sense, the only places where you order at the bar and you pay when you order are American franchises. So if you want to write your usual Coffee Shop AU, set it in a Starbucks.

When people say that in France “they kiss you on both cheeks”, that is true... to a point. In reality, you put your face next to the other person’s and do a little sound next to their ear (more like kissing the air). If you actually kiss someone you don’t know they are probably going to take it badly.

The kissing thing (”la bise”, as it’s called) is very common. It is done almost always to women, and a lot of times to men. Also, if you want to make your fic extra believable, Southern French people don’t do two kisses: they do three.

French houses do not have fire escapes.

I can’t think of any others right now. As I said, people usually do their research quite thoroughly. Hope it helps, and I’m open to questions!

[vangoghs-other-ear]

Holidays in France

Les Jours fériés

These are the days that schools, banks, and government offices are closed. Most other businesses are closed as well because France actually gives a shit about its workers.

Jour de l’an 🥳

New Years day - January 1st.

Bonnée Année- Happy New Years

La bise à minuit- Midnight kiss

The French drink champagne and kiss at midnight on December 31st. Maybe some fireworks?

Pâques 🐣

Easter

Le chocolat- chocolate

L’œuf de pâques- easter egg

Its the first Sunday after the first full moon after the spring equinox a random ass Sunday in spring.

For Christians its the day that Jesus came back to life after having died that preceding Friday.

French children hunt for eggs delivered by a magical flying bell, rather than a rabbit. Easter itself is always on a Sunday so the actual Jour férié is the day after (the Monday).

Fête du travail 👷‍♀️

Labor day - May 1st

La journée de huit heures- 8 hour work day

La manifestation- protest

It’s day to honor the progress made by the labor movement & celebrate the contribution of workers to society. It’s the same day as international worker’s day.

In France people can buy these little white flowers to wear from trade unions (who are not taxed for the sale of these flowers) to show their support for the labor movement. There are also protests, but they have the vibe of like a parade, like the police aren’t threatening to come at anyone with waterhoses and rubber bullets, you feel me?

Victoire des alliés👨🏽‍��️

VE day - May 8th

The day the Germans surrendered ending WWII in Europe.

L’ascension ↗️

Ascention - 40 days after Easter

For Christian this is the day that Jesus just kinda floated up to heaven. For everyone else you get a free day off.

Pentecôte 🔥

pentecost - Seventh Sunday after Easter

For Christians this is the day the holy spirit was given to the apostles, appearing as a flame above their heads. Made them capable of speaking every language fluently for a hot second, which sounds like a cool super power to have.

Non Christians don’t really do anything to celebrate

Fête Nationale 🇫🇷

Bastille day - July 14th

Un défilé militaire- military parade

Les feux d'artifices- fire works

Anniversary of the beginning of the French Revolution. Basically the King fired his pro common man cabinet member and replaced him with a royalist which pissed the people off enough that a bunch of them busted into this prison/military fortress in the middle of Paris and fucking took it over.

There’s a military parade down the Champs-Élysées and fireworks.

Assomption 👵🏾

Assomption-August 15th

The catholic holiday for when Mary mother of Jesus just kinda floated away to heaven.

La Toussaint 😇😇

All saint’s day-November 1st

“What if instead of celebrating each saint on their own day we did them all in one? ”- a friggen genius.

Mostly only catholics celebrate, for everyone else it’s just a day off.

Armistice ☮️

Armistice - November 11

Jour de souvenir- rememberance day

Le coquelicot- poppy

Fleurir les tombes des soldats- to lay flowers on the graves of soldiers

The anniversary of the end of WWI.

Traditionally there are 2 minutes of silence beginning at 11:00 the exact time of the armistice. In 2012 the day was officially declared to be a day of remembrance for all French soldiers and veterans, not just those who fought in WWI. Poppies are worn to commerate the dead, and people lay chrysanthemums on the graves of soldiers.

Noël 🎄

Christmas - December 25

Le sapin de Noël- Christmas tree

Père Noël- Santa Claus

Le réveillon/veille de Noël- christmas eve

Joyeux Noël- merry Christmas

Presents are exchanged and/or delivered by Santa. People spend time with their families and have a big meal together. Traditionally the main dish is a turkey. For Christians, they may attend a church service or mass celebrating the birth of Jesus.

[maggies-scribblings]

Keeping it pimple

Based on this post by @sariahsue. Thank you for allowing me to use your funny idea! 

It was a not so easy Sunday morning. Middle of the summer. After a late night working on a project for extra credit at Uni. The heat almost unbearable. If there was a worse time to get an emergency alert, Marinette couldn’t think of one. She slapped her phone a few times before she even realised it was not her usual alarm tone.

“Come on Tikki... we have *yawn* work to do!”

The alert was insistent, making Marinette forego any ablutions other than a quick brush to her teeth and a few splashes of cold water to her face, barely looking in the mirror.

She met Chat Noir on a rooftop across from the Père Lachaise cemetery.

“Good morning sunshine!”, he greeted, way too sprightly for such a ungodly hour.

Ladybug could only grunt in response, followed by a yawn.

“What’s the deal?”

“Well Milady, it seems it was a false alarm. There were a few hippies making some kind of solstice ceremony by Jim Morrison’s grave. The caretakers saw it and activated the alert. I have already given them all an earful, I doubt they will repeat this kind of antic!”

“You mean this was all for nothing? And how did you get here so fast and... energetic?” Ladybug managed between yawns.

“Well, you don’t think this just happens do you?”, Chat replied gesturing around his own torso. “I was close by, finishing my morning run!”

“I hate you”, Ladybug joked, turning her face directly to him for the first time since they arrived at the scene.

Chat Noir stared intently at her face, focusing on a particular area of her chin. His expression was part amused, part worried.

“Do I have something on my face?” Ladybug asked, touching the area she thought he was looking at. Sure enough, she felt a small lump, feeling the prickly itch of a new pimple: “Oh no! What is it?”

“You mean, ‘What is ZIT!’” Chat Noir grinned.

Ladybug couldn’t decide what to cover — her chin or her poor ears.

“Oh no! No no no! It’s huge! And I have a thing this evening!” She moaned, feeling the extent of the blemish with her fingertips. “I knew I shouldn’t have eaten a whole bar of Côte d'Or last night!”

Chat Noir gently took her hands away from her face.

“No no, no touching! It will only get worse! And chocolate causing zits is a myth! It’s more likely, erm... hormonal.” He ended the sentence with a lower volume and a blush, realising the faux-pas.

Ladybug looked at him like he had two heads, a bit of extra colour on her cheeks too.

“Well aren’t you the skincare specialist, Kitty! Do you have any more tips?” She asked with a hint of sarcasm.

Feeling his pride a little hurt, he replied, “well I was going to give you a recipe for a natural face mask, but if you—”

“Sorry Chat, I was just surprised, that’s all! What do you prescribe then?” She added, opening her yo-yo to take notes.

“OK trust me on this. It will not make the zit disappear completely, but it will help with the swelling and itching.”

“Ready to take the recipe Doc!”, she replied lightheartedly and adjusting an imaginary pair of glasses on her nose.

“Anywho, this is all natural. You put one or two tablespoons of honey in a bowl, then mix equal parts nutmeg and cinnamon. Not a lot, one teaspoon each at the most. Then you squeeze a lemon wedge into it and mix some more. Watch the consistency. It has to be a paste so it doesn’t run down your neck.”

He gulped imagining her pretty neck dripping in honey (and thought he wouldn’t mind licking the excess), then cleared his throat before he resumed, pacing the roof.

“Then you massage the mix into your clean skin and chill for about 30 minutes. Watch cat videos on YouTube or an episode of a show. Don’t fall asleep, or you might end up in a sticky situation... You could always FaceTime me, but I doubt you want to apply the mask with your other mask on... Then, when you’re ready to rinse, rub it off gently — don’t overdo it, you don’t want to do anything rash. You know, just exfoliate a little. Rinse with water et voilà! Your pretty face will be even prettier!”

Ladybug looked at him, flabbergasted by his knowledge.

“Wow! And this actually works?”

“Yes, I use it often. My make-up... I mean one of my mates recommended it.”

“You sure are full of surprises, kitty cat!”

〰〰

Marinette got home and followed the prescription to a T. As Chat Noir had said, the results were not, well, miraculous, but with a bit of concealer her chin looked passable.

Indeed, she did have a thing that evening. It was Mylène’s 19th birthday party, and she insisted on getting the old girl squad back together, as well as the rest of the Françoise DuPont class.

The class had gone their separate ways after Lycée. Some went to university, a few took a gap year, some had started to work. They kept in touch, but the times when the whole group reunited were fewer every year. Marinette was delighted to see them all again.

Naturally, Alya and Nino were a constant presence in her life, and with the package, Adrien too. Over the years and as they both dated other people, they were able to build a true friendship, Marinette’s awkwardness mostly gone.

So that evening when Marinette arrived, late as usual, she wasn’t surprised to see Nino and Adrien fiddling about the DJ table, Alya chatting with Mylène and Ivan close by.

“Marinette!”, the girls chanted when she made her way to her best friend. She blushed a little when she saw Adrien watching her closely, as she proceeded to greet each friend with a hug and la bise.

“What happened to your chin?”, Alya asked in her usual inquisitive manner.

“Alya!!!”, Marinette scolded, embarrassed. “I was trying to cover this stupid zit up all day. I even applied a home remedy a friend recommended! Is it still so obvious?”

“Nah you’re good! I only noticed when you were close. I’m sure you’ll look great on the photos. What was it anyway? Did you punch yourself sewing leather again? Or was it too much chocolate?”

Starting to get annoyed at having this kind of conversation within earshot of all her friends, let alone her old flame, Marinette replied flippantly.

“Actually, miss know-it-all, chocolate causing zits is a myth! It’s more likely hormonal!”

That came out louder than she expected and caused some heads to turn.

“Sorry Alya, it’s been a rough few days. I’m going to get something to drink.”

She approached the bar and asked for a juice. She wanted something stronger, but it was a bit early in the day.

Marinette closed her eyes as she lightly pressed the ice-cold glass to her pimple, relishing in the cool relief.

“Ice is good for it too. Reduces the swelling.”

Marinette opened her eyes. She could swear it was Chat Noir’s voice.

“Hello Adrien. How have you been?”

Marinette thought she felt Adrien linger a little after the customary hug and cheek pecks.

“You know, same as usual. Modelling mostly. But I am starting university this year.”

“That’s great!” Marinette replied sincerely. “So you managed to convince your dad?”

“Yeah, I did. I am starting Economics at Panthéon-Assas. It was all I could manage to negotiate with him. But they do have interesting research programmes. All while modelling of course.”

“Of course...” she couldn’t help admiring his good shape.

“You look good, Marinette. Blemish notzitstanding. Have you been working out?”

Marinette started a little at his bad pun, quickly nodding to dissimulate it.

“A little. A run here and there! You?”

“You don’t think this just happens do you?” Adrien said with a wink and a grin.

For the third time in a few minutes, recognition flashed through her mind. “I hate you.” She added slyly, searching Adrien’s eyes for signs of any perception on his part.

He moved closer to her and whispered in her ear.

“You smell nice. Honey and cinnamon. Reminds me of a face mask I sometimes make.”

Her tongue suddenly felt like sandpaper. She took a sip of her drink.

“Y-yeah?”

“Hmm-hmm.” He sniffed her again. “A touch of lemon too. And nutmeg? It’s a great exfoliant.”

This time she was the one whispering in his ear.

"A-aren’t you the skincare specialist!... Do you have any more... tips?”

“My Lady, I will be happy to share all my secrets with you... at last!”

〰〰

Fin

[pikapeppa]

Abelas/Lavellan smut: Ma’av’in

An older piece that I never posted on Tumblr! 

Ma’av’in: an elvhen term, from @fenxshiral​, that literally means ‘my mouth’, but is also a very personal and slightly sexual endearment meaning “I love and desire you so much that my mouth tastes like yours,” but also “we understand each other on such a personal level that you could talk for me”.

In which Athera Lavellan and Abelas sneak into the kitchen for some cake and run into Solas, who is doing the same thing. Oh, elves with a sweet tooth.

Read on AO3 instead. 

************************

Athera poked her head cautiously into Skyhold’s kitchen. “Hello?” she called softly.

When no one replied, she relaxed and turned to Abelas with a smile. “It’s clear. Everyone’s gone to bed.” She scurried into the kitchen and made a beeline for the large icebox that held the leftover sweets.

Abelas followed her at a more decorous pace. As Athera opened the icebox and poked around, he studied the icebox itself with clear disapproval. “This cooling spell is inefficient,” he said. “The magic is slowly dissipating. It will need to be recast in less than a year.” He frowned at her. “Who was the spellcaster here? Someone on your staff is in dire need of training.”

Athera shot him an exasperated look. “Who cares about the icebox? Look at what’s inside!” She enthusiastically pulled out a platter, then removed its metal lid with a flourish to reveal a selection of bite-sized desserts.

Abelas’s disapproval melted into a tiny smile, and Athera’s cheeks warmed with pleasure at having wiped away his frown. She happily set the platter on the table. “Those cakes I gave you were the first kind of Orlesian dessert I tried when I first started hanging out with humans,” she said eagerly. “They all have funny names.” She pointed to each of the desserts in turn. “This is a macaron. Chocolate-raspberry, it looks like, and this one is… a blackberry macaron, maybe? This cake is called ‘le coup de grâce’. It’s made with a lot of brandy - they’ll actually make you drunk if you eat enough of them. This one is ‘la langue fourchue’ - I think it contains dragonthorn, it’s weirdly spicy - and this one is ‘la belle rose’. It’s made with rosewater. That’s what Josie said, at least.”

Abelas listened carefully as she named the various cakes. Then he selected a small square cake with pink fondant icing and a tiny flower on top.

Athera wilted slightly in disappointment; the cake he’d picked was the same kind she’d given to him when he first arrived at Skyhold. “You don’t want to try something new?” she asked. “You’ve had that kind already.”

He settled his gilded gaze on her face. “I am fond of this kind. They remind me of you.”

The tips of Athera’s ears suddenly felt hot. She bit the inside of her cheek to hide her stupid grin, then selected a rosewater cake for herself. “Well, I guess that’s all right then.” She lifted her cake and gently touched it to his. “Cheers.”

“On’enansal,” he murmured, and Athera smiled and popped the whole cake into her mouth.

Abelas, on the other hand, took a small bite of his cake. Athera covered her full mouth self-consciously while she chewed, feeling boorish compared to her lover’s dignified munching.

He studied the cake as he chewed. “What is the name of this confection?”

Athera swallowed hastily. “It’s called ‘la petite bise’. Leliana said it means ‘the little kiss’.” She leaned back against the table as she watched Abelas enjoy his cake. “It’s named after this weird thing the Orlesians do. They kiss each other on the cheeks as a greeting. They even do it to people they’ve only just met.” She remembered the first time someone had greeted her this way; it was one of Josie’s contacts from Val Royeaux, Madame la Marquise of Something-Or-Other, and Athera was shocked when the woman leaned in to bump her cheekbones against Athera’s face. She was still grateful that her surprise had made her freeze like a rabbit instead of flinching away from the Marquise; she didn’t want to imagine the kind of unintentional offence a flinch would have caused.

Abelas’s gaze slid from the cake back to her face. “The little kiss, you say?”

His eyes dropped to her mouth, and Athera bit her lip coquettishly. “Yes,” she confirmed.

He swallowed his tiny bite of cake, then tilted his head thoughtfully. “I would like a demonstration of this strange custom.”

His face was serious, but his golden eyes were warm and playful, and Athera grinned. “All right,” she said. She took a step closer to him and placed her hands on his shoulders, then lifted herself onto her tiptoes and leaned in to graze his sharp right cheekbone with a kiss.

He turned his head at the last second and met her lips with his own.

Athera smiled against his mouth, then wrapped her arms around his neck as he deepened the kiss. His sculpted lips gently coaxed hers apart, and Athera released a shivery little sigh as he lightly nipped her lower lip with teeth.

His unoccupied hand curved around her waist, then up along her back to pull her flush to his body, and Athera happily pressed herself against his chest. He tasted sweet and fruity, a warm reflection of the cake in his hand, and she shamelessly savoured the smooth feel of his tongue caressing her own, the exciting feel of his hard and muscular thigh sliding between her legs-

“Oh,” a surprised voice said, and Athera sprang away from Abelas as the mild-mannered voice continued. “My apologies. I, er, I did not think anyone else would be here.”

“Solas!” Athera gasped. She covered her burning cheeks with her hands and stared at the apostate in complete mortification. The pinkness of his cheeks was evident even in the warm orange light of the hearthfire, and Athera couldn’t decide if she was more or less horrified to find him looking as embarrassed as she felt.

She glanced up at Abelas, and was further ashamed to see him looking as discomfited as Solas. Desperate to smooth over the awkward moment, she focused on Solas again. “What, er, what brings you to the kitchen?” she stammered.

Solas cleared his throat. “I believe the same thing that brought you here,” he said, then gestured at the platter of desserts on the table. “An insatiable taste for all things sweet.”  

At his words, the thought of Abelas’s sugar-laced tongue in her mouth flashed through her mind, and Athera cringed as her face became even hotter.

Fortunately, Abelas seemed to have recovered his aplomb. Unfortunately, his aplomb was far too polite for Athera’s liking. “Please, join us,” the Sentinel said, then gestured to the platter of sweets.

Solas shot her a quick glance, and Athera’s face and shoulders performed some kind of strange combination of grimace-and-shrug. Solas slowly made his way into the kitchen. “Thank you,” he said with a gracious nod to Abelas, then selected a small cylindrical cake enrobed in dark gray fondant and painted with intricate red curlicues.

Solas took a delicate bite of cake, and Athera watched the two men with increasing discomfort as they ate their cakes in excruciating silence. She twisted her fingers together as she desperately cast around for something to say.

“How about the paint job on that, huh?” she finally said with a nod to the elaborate swirls on Solas’s little cake. “Must take a long time to paint each one. No wonder they’re so expensive.”

“Yes, it is its own form of artistry, is it not?” Solas replied eagerly, clearly relieved that she’d broken the silence. “I must admit that this particular kind is my favourite. Do you happen to recall what it is called?”

Athera narrowed her eyes. “That’s the one with the slightly bitter filling, right? I think it’s called ’le souffle du loup.’ It means ‘breath of the wolf’.”

Solas suddenly went still, and Abelas coughed loudly. Athera turned to him in alarm as he continued to cough into his hand. “Are you okay? You’re not choking, are you?”

“He is fine,” Solas said hastily, then patted the coughing Sentinel on the back in an oddly fraternal manner. “Perhaps I will leave you in peace. It was not my intention to interrupt. Not that you were doing anything that - I mean, that is -”

“No, you stay,” Abelas rasped. “Please. I insist. The Inquisitor and I will go elsewhere. It would not do for us to, er - that is, we will take ourselves to a more private, er…”

Solas’s cheeks reddened further, and Athera wondered wistfully if she could just melt into the floor right now. “Yes, perhaps that would be wise,” Solas replied weakly, and Abelas nodded brusquely before taking her hand and tugging her toward the door.

Athera glanced over her shoulder at her apostate friend. “Sorry,” she squeaked. Then Abelas pulled her out of the kitchen.

The Sentinel whispered a quiet word in Elvhen, and goosebumps ran down Athera’s arms as his fade-cloak spell settled over them both. “Come,” he muttered, and he laced his fingers with hers as he led her back up the stairs.

The further they got from the kitchen, the more her humiliation began to melt into humour. She had to bite her lip to stop herself from laughing as they traversed the Great Hall. By the time she had unlocked the door that led up to her quarters, her shoulders were shaking with suppressed mirth.

She opened the door and let Abelas in before her, then closed the door behind them both and slumped back against the wall, her hands clapped over her mouth to prevent an outburst of glee.

“Dread Wolf take me, that was horrible,” she wheezed. “It’s like being caught in the act by an older brother. Oh gods.” Then she finally broke into a storm of nervous laughter.

A reluctant little smile lifted Abelas’s cheeks as she continued to helplessly laugh. “I can see how it would feel that way,” he murmured. He slowly stepped close and brushed his thumb over her smiling lower lip. “We should be quiet now,” he whispered. “I do not think you want to wake the rest of the castle.”

Her laughter hitched in her throat as his knee brushed against her thighs, and her amusement slowly faded and deepened into the foiled desire that had begun to brew in the kitchen. “Maybe you need to find a way to keep me quiet,” she breathed.

She watched with interest as he inhaled deeply, then smiled more broadly at her. “Veraisa,” he whispered. Then he slanted his mouth over hers.

She parted her lips instantly, granting access to his delicious tongue. He still tasted of fondant, a hint of fruit and sugar, and Athera eagerly suckled his tongue as though to steal his sweetness for herself.

Abelas groaned against her lips and pressed his knee between her legs. She gasped and released his tongue as the hardness of his leg rode against the vee of her thighs, sending a shock of sensation from her groin up to her nipples and throat.

His hands were suddenly cradling her neck, his fingers cupping the back of her skull as he stole her breath with another kiss. Athera wrapped her arms around his lean body, pressing her chest against him and spreading her legs more widely to welcome the muscular bulk of his thigh. He delved his tongue into her mouth, and with every lap of his tongue and every gentle pull of his lips against her own, her desire surged like the eager rising of high tide.

Finally Abelas broke their kiss to gasp against her cheekbone, his fingers still tight in her hair. He breathed hard for a moment, the heat of his lustful breaths sending a delicious shiver down her spine. Abruptly he lifted her chin with his fingers and kissed her hard once more, then knelt at her feet.

A mewl of desperate want escaped her lips, and she slapped her hand over her mouth to stifle herself as Abelas slid his hands under her nightshift and peeled her smallclothes down to her ankles. “If this is your idea for keeping me quiet, I’ll have you know it’s a terrible idea,” she whimpered.

Abelas shot her a quick look, and the intensity of his expression stopped her breath again. “Solas was right,” he told her. “I hunger for something sweet. But it is not some mere shemlen confection that I want.” Without further ado, he gathered the fabric of her cotton shift in his fists and pinned her skirts to the wall, then slicked his tongue between her legs.

Heat and pleasure rippled through her blood at the sleek stroke of his tongue. Athera took a shuddering breath and fisted one hand in her hair, then bit the back of her other hand as Abelas diligently stroked her plump folds with his full lower lip before sliding his tongue over the swollen button of her clit.

Her hot breath ghosted across the back of her hand as Abelas continued to work his talented mouth at the apex of her thighs. The lapping of his tongue was voracious yet tender, very much as though he was savouring a favoured treat, and Athera’s thighs began to tremble with the strain of holding herself upright as he stroked his tongue along the length of her cleft, caressed her clit with his lower lip, drank in every drop of her heated arousal from her exquisitely sensitive folds-

She gasped in a faltering breath, then muffled her pleasure against the back of her hand as Abelas brought her to a scintillating peak. Her fingers were twisted painfully in her hair, her teeth pressing ruthlessly into the skin of her hand, but she was numb to it all, numb to anything but the blissful feel of her lover’s tongue between her legs.

Finally Abelas rose to his feet and wrapped her in a tight embrace, his body hard against her own as he kissed her. His lips held the perfume of her own arousal, tangible and earthy evidence of his carnal devotion, and the familiar musky scent drove her desire to a fever pitch.

Her fingers clutched his arms convulsively; she was internally at war, mired in the dual desires to have him right now and to have him as freely and loudly as she liked. Finally she pushed him away, only to tug him toward the stairs up to her bedroom. “I can’t keep up this quiet thing. Let’s hurry,” she urged.

He huffed with amusement as he followed her hasty steps up the stairs. “I admire your discipline,” he said.

She stopped on the first landing, then pulled her shift over her head and flung it to the floor. She shoved her long dark hair back, then faced him boldly. “Trust me, my discipline is hanging by a thread,” she said bluntly, then turned on her heel and ran up the stairs.

Abelas caught her on the second landing. She gasped as he penned her against the wall, his hands cradling her neck as he pressed his forehead to hers. “As is mine,” he breathed. “I want for you so strongly, and it… it is not enough.”

“What’s not enough?” she asked breathily, her fingers digging into his arms.

“Everything,” he replied instantly. “Every moment. Your skin, your taste, your voice. Every moment we spend together until… until the time comes. It will never be enough.”

Athera closed her eyes to block out the reminder of his eventual departure. She knew ecactly how he felt, and it was so incredibly bitter.

She shook her head, then gently pushed him away. She wrenched open the door to her bedroom, then she strode up the final set of stairs and waited impatiently until Abelas drew level with her. Then she flung herself at him in a storm of longing and lust.

He grabbed her naked body, lifting her and wrapping her legs around his waist. She gripped the back of his neck and stared desperately into his eyes as he walked them toward the bed. “Abelas,” she pleaded. “I… maybe I shouldn’t say this, I don’t want you to think poorly of me, but… You make me want to throw this all away. I can’t do that, I know I can’t, and I know you can’t either. But it’s my imagination, it’s a fantasy or an amazing dream or something, and I just…” She gulped in a breath and stroked his face. “I hope you don’t think less of me. I just-”

“No,” he interrupted. Then Athera’s breath left her in a rush as they tumbled onto the bed, his reassuring weight between her legs.

“I understand how you feel,” Abelas breathed. “I…” He pressed his lips together in a seeming struggle for words. “Ma’av’in,” he finally blurted. “This is the only term I can think of. I do not know the word in your language for this. Just know that I feel as you do.” He stroked her cheekbones with his thumbs. “I see this dream, just as you do.”

A scalding tear wended its way down her cheek, and she gasped in a tiny sob as he wiped it away with his thumb. “No more talking,” she begged. “No more, please. Just…” She trailed off and tugged futilely at his strange ancient armour.

He swiftly responded to her wordless command, sliding off the bed and shedding his armour with practiced ease. When he settled himself between her legs again, Athera didn’t hesitate; hesitation left room for words and heartache, and she couldn’t have that right now.

She reached between his legs and grasped his cock, then slid his length against her cleft to spread her heat across him. Abelas hissed in a sharp breath, his fingers tightening in her hair as he rocked against her slick folds; then, with a quick shifting of his hips, he sheathed himself inside of her.

He moaned longingly against her neck, and Athera mewled in kind, a long and pleading keen of pleasure as she savoured the perfect pressure of his cock. He moved against her in a slow and sinuous thrust and she happily arched into him, her hips a perfect cradle to meet the confident curving of his hips.

Within seconds, she and Abelas were moving together in perfect harmony. His palms were hot against her own as he pressed her hands into the bed, her fingers laced and clenching against his own as she lifted her hips to meet his every careful thrust. Even their breathing was synced: they gasped with need as he withdrew, then burst out an exhale as he tenderly delved back into her heat. His cock was utter bliss, the perfect length of steel to fill her up and stroke the pleasure from her core.

When he began to increase his pace, his fingers tightening in her own and his face twisting with rapture, Athera eagerly met and matched him, the hardness of his thrusts wringing her nerves beautifully raw. “Kiss me when you come,” she begged. “Abelas, please-”

“Yes,” he gasped, his hips pistoning into her with passionate zeal until he finally groaned and captured her mouth in a ferocious kiss. He thrust his tongue into her mouth while thrusting his cock as deep as he could reach, and Athera wrapped her arms around his neck, clinging tightly to his lean muscled shoulders as he shuddered in completion in her arms.

He pressed his cheek to hers as he grew still, but his fingers remained clenched between her own, and an overwhelming burst of tenderness bloomed in her chest as he braised the pointed line of her ear with gentle kisses. This perfection couldn’t last, and she knew it; they were doomed to end, and that fate was far too close for her liking. But this ancient warrior filled her heart as readily as his cock filled her body, and she was suddenly desperate to tell him so.

I love you, she thought with a heartwrenching burst of longing. She wanted to say it, it was on the tip of her tongue, but she couldn’t shake the sense that saying it would only hurt them more.

Then Abelas spoke against her ear. “Ma’av’in, ma vhenan,” he whispered. “I cannot explain it better than this, but I promise you, I feel as you do.”

Athera swallowed hard, then hugged him closer. He might as well have been reading her mind. “Okay,” she whispered. “I’ll take your word for it.”

[elizabethsway]

I messed up.

This Christmas I planned to see my mom and my sister. We all got vaccinated for one reason or another. We live pretty solitary lives where there's not a lot of people around us. And we all work from home, currently.

However, my brother-in-law like apparently a lot of midwesterners, don't open gifts and celebrate Christmas on actual Christmas morning they do it the night before on Christmas Eve.

So we were going to go visit them and open some gifts with them. They are Italian and Argentinian, to preface, and I totally forgot about the La Bise. In places like France, Italy and Argentina, you do like a kiss to the cheek on both sides as a greeting. Well if you don't, it's like insulting to them. And I'm not really a kisser, so I normally like tip my head away from them anyways but I allow them to get one cheek in, cuz sometimes they go for the lips (especially if they're old) and you got to dodge.

Well my brother-in-law's mom came in to give me a hug and she did the cheek thingbbefore I could dodge. Now I might have gift of COVID for Christmas. I get tested Tuesday to find out.

I had a little bit of an earache on Sunday, which should have told me something was wrong because my sinuses are all up and connected. If I'm sick, even my jaw hurts to the point where I feel like my teeth are going to fall out.

Then on Monday when I got back to my apartment, I was feeling a little sore in the throat. Tuesday, I slept all freaking day with a sore throat and runny snot down the back of my throat.

Wednesday in the middle of the night I woke up sweaty and have a fever of 100.9, my throat was sore, nose was dry (like the feeling you get before a nosebleed) and couldn't blow anyy mucus out, yet I had snot running down my throat. My thighs and ass muscles were hurting as if I had bed sores. I took three ibuprofens and called it a morning having to work through it with a little dizzy spell and a raspy man voice.

Today, my sore throat has lessened, my nose is no longer dry but I'm able to blow my nose now. I still have snot running down the back of my throat. I've been drinking like a 100 oz a day, between 80 and 100, and I still don't feel like that's enough.

I've been popping vitamin C, elderberry, magnesium, iron, D3, B-12, ginger, and turmeric pills. I need to get myself up and make myself some hot tea, I'm just not hot drink kind of person. I'm more of a room temp to cold.

But I literally look like a hillbilly right now, or some kind of like gangster - if I wasn't so white, as I've had this piece of fabric on my head that keeps you cool as long as there's water on it. I have been like living in this fabric for two days looking all crazy with it tied to my head.

And I'm kind of mad at myself for forgetting, to shield myself before she attacked me with her lips. But also, I feel like I would have highly offended her if I had not let her kiss my cheeks though she probably would have at least pretended that she understood. But yeah, she got tested Tuesday, and was positive so it's highly likely that I have it as well.

Yet still this is not the worst sickness I've ever had. I was hella sick with the flu a couple years ago. And I'm pretty sure I caught that one at a gaming convention. You know how everybody touches everybody's pieces and cards. The germs just come around.

That one, I s*** my pants on my birthday. Then a week later had a sick feeling. I kept doing this thing where I would go to work one day and then I'd take the day off, then the next day, I go back into work and then take the day off again because you know you don't have all that many days you can take off work in America without loosing your job. I tried to push through but I realized I was crazy beacuse that just makes it worse cuz I should have stayed home and rested.

That flu had me out for a whole month. I am not someone that gets sick very often. The only time I got sick before that was when I was in like 8th grade and that sickness wasn't even that bad. The one good, lucky thing, is that normally when I'm sick around other people they don't get sick. It's a weird miracle, but despite nobody else getting sick I stay sick for like a month at a time.

As I was sick a couple years ago with that flu, then I got sick with whatever this is and I've had allergies, which is not something I had back in the Pacific States, I decided to blame the lack of sunshine in the Midwest and maybe this is me just being biased and not caring for the Midwest, as regrettably I only moved here to be closer to family that got pushed out this way much to their disappointment, but I'm pretty sure that Illinois is trying to kill me.

I thought Oregon was bad because every time I visited Oregon I would get stuck there for one reason or another (it wouldn't nlet me leave without a fight) but this place, Illinois, is trying to mark me with sickness.

I need to take myself to some place like Nevada, where there's not a lot of allergy inflicting plants out there and the elevation keeps you healthy (it was always the best place for my sister who has asthma).

But all in all I am not horrible right now which is super awesome. When I had the flu I was like peeing myself every 5 seconds and I almost had an emotional breakdown because every time I would sneeze or cough I would accidentally pee myself and I was running out of underwear and my muscles hurt so bad and I was so tired and I couldn't bear the thought of going to the bathroom let alone doing laundry. Luckily one of my co-workers brought me food on occasion and my sister brought over bottles of water (I live in a place with disgusting well water) and she brought over adult diapers for me (you reached a whole new level of low when you have to wear those).

Literally, that flu was like the worst experience of my life. And so far this hasn't been that bad, but I do regret slightly that she caught me with her lips. It's the surprise attack every time.

[plusbellerice]

Jour 12: 5 Juillet 2018

Today started out good then got bad and then got good. But again I am so happy and I am probably never going to leave. Ever. Except maybe to see my babies because I miss them. 

I woke up and had breakfast like normal. I woke up a little late again so Isabella went first and I was a little behind her. I ended up getting to class like right at 8 and I figured I’d be so late that I’d have the bad chair but as it turned out the whole class was out till 3am class night so I was like the 5th person there. Class was good. We went over all the photos we took yesterday so it was easy. 

After class, Nathan et moi had a coffee and then we left to get lunch at the Boulangerie at the Place de la Republique. I got a sandwich and we ate it in the Square. Then we wondered around the church for a while. There had been a funeral there so it was a little sad but it had emptied out by the time we left. I bought Livret de Prieres. It’s a little French book for Prayers! I’m so excited to use it for morning and night prayers and stuff. It’s easy to read prayer books in the same way it’s easy to read Harry Potter - since I know what I’m reading, it’s easier to understand the words I don’t know. 

After that we met up with some members of the class on the steps and talked to them for a while, toured the church with Elena and Ciara, and then walked around until we had to go back to Art. 

Art was SO HARD TODAY. I struggled to follow AND we have a midterm next class. I left class and felt so upset and so discouraged and I just wanted to curl up in a ball and speak English. 

So I went shopping of course to cheer myself up. I didn’t buy anything but I have my eye on a skirt and two dresses that maybe I’ll consider buying next week. 

I got home and napped for about 20 minutes until it was time to get ready to go to daily mass. I went there at 6:15. 

Mass was quick and simple. It still is so weird to me that there is no uniformity at all with French people and sitting or standing. Also, they constantly switch between Latin and French. 

After mass, Aude came up to me when Nathan was talking to the other woman. She was the girl I had met on Tuesday who was really nice - and who invited Nathan and I to a French young people party next weekend. She asked if we could do une bise!!! It was so exciting. Her asking that was acknowledging me as a person and as a French speaker and as friend, all BEYOND a tourist and I felt so good and reaffirmed from earlier. 

After that, Nathan and I talked outside for a while and ran into Clair from school, who said she was Catholic and she’d like to go with us to mass sometime. That was really cool and I hope we can actually do that!! 

I felt so happy and I headed home to the best surprise yet. CREPES FOR DINNER. 

So my host dad came home and (I think since it’s Yao’s last night here) we had a very wonderful dinner celebration. He homemade Galettes and Crepes. Galettes are basically crepes but made with black flour from Bretagne and they are not a sweet dough. I helped him make the batter for both. Then while we waited, we had champagne and talked a lot. About smoking in France and the US and about the newspaper and about MacBooks. Also, Estelle (because she’s a speech pathologist) is helping me so much with R’s and pronunciation. She knows just how to form the mouth to make the sounds right. It’s amazing.  

He taught us how to use the fancy machine and let us try it - I’ll post a video after this :) and He told me I looked like a bird when I ate because I took tiny bites. The Galette I had was egg, ham, and gruyere. Then I had two crepes, sucre with butter, and chocolate. They were so so so yummy. We also drank cidre which is cider and yes with alcohol. 

The mix. 

Pierre making the crepe! 

Ham, Egg, Gruyere. 

Me, Estelle, Yao, Isabella. 

Beurre and Sucre! 

Chocolat! 

Also, both my host parents told me I made progress already! I’m so happy! I love France. 

Then I had one more glass of champagne. Yao kept trying to give me more and it was so funny, Pierre said “Don’t tell MaryAnn that you are drunk tonight” HA. I was pretty tipsy though. 

It was an amazing night and tomorrow is out excursion to Avignon and Saturday I am going hiking with Pierre and Isabella! I am SO happy! 

[ctrl-mlt]

[Billet 7] Dance with a Rat

Déjà, j'ai fait un bon gros combat avec mon tracteur auto, excusez les nombreuses fautes et mon anglais approximatif.

I had a great fight with my fucking auto-corrector, apologies my bad english, and the small montain of mistakes that i do.

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

Tonight, we have a meeting with the people we just met yesterday. It was an amazing night. We follow Sky and go to the south gate of the city, following his instinct. When we get there, we just go to the East gate, where the other people are.

By the way, most of time, it's a fucking good idea to follow him. It will lead you to unusual roads.

Finaly we found them. Mat and me both try to make "la bise", but people do some weird thing like an half-hug to say "hello". Ok. I'm not confortable with that, but... Ok.

Along, à Hong Kong guy making amazing videos (please, never use "amazing" in a french sentence. Each time you do, i'll eat a puppy), Anna and Lisa.

We just pass through (ça se dit S'roux) a market place. All the smells are mixed. Not really good. Many people try to sell many bullshit stuff, many people buying bullshit stuff... I guess you all know a place like this.

We walk in the market, follow ich other, try to find stuff, foods, or anything. Just walking and have a look. It was so cool. Many goods to sell, most of time useless, and many thing to eat, sometimes creepy. But, we can find Waffles, Crêpes, Grilled corn, papaya salad, Squids, horrible fish, gelly... (Waffles, c'est les gaufres... Et bordel comme elles sentent fort et super bon !)

Anna try the papaya salad, but she discover that the strange red vegetable was actually shrimp (des putains de petites crevettes rouges qu'on bouffe entières). So, she offer it to a guy... It's better.

My grand father stay the only person that i know who eat all the shrimp in my memory. I mean, with the head, you know... No one should do that.

After trying to feed Sky without succes, we just comme back to our place, have a drink (lemon and honey tea for me, a rice one for Mat, and a beer for the other).

We see a mother-fucking-big-rat. It make me scared, but i get it. Anna says ;

- Keep calm and ignore him. He will not approche you.

- But i used to be calm et he approche me, ce putain d'rat. (Oui, j'ai des mots français au milieu, et alors ?)

- yeah, maybe you should moove, and it will be scared.

Then, i started to dance.

-------

Now, i'll try to sleep, tomorow is a Big Day. The day of our come back to bkk. I'm a little bit sad to leave Chiang Mai, but so happy to go down on South, and to get our third member.

[couplesbeyondborders]

Maeva + Patjun

Maeva Country: France Patjun Country: United States of America

When I met Maeva and Patjun, on February 6th, 2016, they were living in New Jersey.  They wanted me to take a picture of them in Grand Central Terminal, in New York, because they met each other for the first time there two years earlier. After that, we went to Le Pain Quotidien, had a coffee, and they told me their story.

Maeva and Patjun met on social media. After Patjun’s school year was over in Rochester, upstate New York, he took a trip to Philadelphia, New York and Boston. Knowing Maeva was living in New York, he asked her if she could show him around the city. Obviously, she said ‘yes.’ A few weeks later they saw each other again and this is how their relationship started. It was the end of May, 2014.

A few months later, Patjun met Maeva’s parents and he explains how culture differences can sometimes be confusing. “When you are in France, you have to do la bise* and the first time I did it, it was with her dad, but I didn’t know that if you don’t really know a guy well, then you don’t do that,  you can just shake the hand. Also some people kiss two or three times and when you don’t know, it’s kind of confusing.”

As for Maeva, when they visited Patjun’s family during Christmas, she experienced something that French people are not used to. “They were doing clay target shooting and at first, I was like that’s cool, I’m going to try and actually it was very uncomfortable for me to be around so many people with guns. We don’t have the same views on this.”

They learned that not only are their personal perspectives different, but also their cultural customs.

Patjun was surprised that French people eat at a certain hour. “When I was in France with Maeva, we were eating around noon every day and then at 8.” He adds “obviously there is always bread at the table and I thought it was kind of weird how we were taking the bread, tearing it off and eating it. There is also a lot of wine drinking. I mean, we were drinking wine at noon, at lunch. Here people drink at lunch time, but it’s not common I guess. I feel like over there, more people drink wine. It’s like a cultural thing.”

“When we were in Oregon, at Patjun’s parents, we went to a restaurant with his family at 6PM and I thought it was early to have dinner, but for him it’s you eat when you are hungry,” says Maeva.

At the end of our conversation, Patjun tells me that he likes to spend time in the countryside in the South of France, living in a relaxing way with no noise. He prefers it to New York “where everyone is so busy all the time that nobody has time to relax, spend time with other people, and even if you try to meet people and you don’t have the same days off, it’s impossible to see them.”

As for Maeva, she loves the feeling that “New Yorkers are willing to help you,” and also she likes “how big the U.S is. You can go from one state to another and it’s completely different. “

* La bise: French way of greeting people by kissing someone’s cheek alternately. 

[ainamunirah]

19 March

Enigma

God dammit my lecturer is a savage!

Lol mcm mana menjengkelkan pun dia, I can’t help but to find him kinda,, umm..unique??

I mean he’s an artist so there’s a huge reason that probably influence him like that

Or maybe sbb I have a little background, pernah experience a glimpse of artist life that’s why cara dia tu still aku boleh accept

Ofc he’s not the best or friendliest artist I’ve known

But AT LEAST DIA PUNYA PERANGAI TU STILL BOLEH TAHAN drpd coach teater lol

Cara dia ckp(baca: membebel) pasal student bising, cara dia ckp pasal asyik diaaa je kena suruh buat design n the way he ignores people makes me curious tho

Like he’s presumably org yg xbnyk ckp or prefer to be pendiam

But that’s absolutely a different case bila dia dh mula critic HAHAHA DIA PUNYA ROAST TU SAKAI BHAI LASER GILLER

So this is what happened today

Peraturan yg tak disepakati dlm kelas beliau:

Jgn kasi chance utk dia membebel kalau tak..hohohoho!!!! xD

Dia laser lagi lancau drpd Ustaz Rizwan fst dulu hahaha

Dahla td kelas habis awal

Dia kasi brief pasal nk buat propa poster MH370(sial ah why ada isu baru timbul kalau x dia terus lupa nk assign tugas tu huhuhu)

Tapi entah cemana dia boring sgt tetiba lanjut cerita pasal logo ftmk haritu

Eh kejap mula2 dia masuk cerita pasal sketch haritu

Oh igt dah, mula2 td dia suruh class cari mentor2 yg tersembunyi dlm class ni

Means, siapa yg ada basic psv n those design kids yg tool pros

“Berkawan, jgn jdkan keldai..^^”

Mohon terasa

But im still baik let u blanje sbb i tahu i am an amateur n u guys pun i tahu xnk bljr melukis sbb xminat

Kau pun luangkanlah masa ajar sikit2 apa yg kau reti kt aku yg xreti, i know mostly semuanya autodidact+time+will but still, baru lah namanya win2 situation ^^

lol DO MY STATISTICS pls

Yg plg buat aku fluster is..

Ok it will be funny kalau Sir actually would allocate one lab session utk aku jd instructor melukis korg HAHAHA AKU PANGGIL RIFQAH JE BOLEH DIA TU BUDAK GRAPHIC DESIGN FOR REAL BRUHH

Apa ehh aku nk ajar kt korg kalau gitu? Nk buat bulat pastu bahagi 4 mcm kelas lukisan animation? Lol aku pun xbuat mcm tu unless terpaksa

15 tahun lukis baru la kau perasan berapa bnyk kau improve n terus evolve. Situ kau tahu kau slow learner ke fast learner. Budak2 skrg umur 14, lukis guna Wacom dh mcm pro giller. Aku umur 14 proportion mmg astaghfirullah..!

And then this thing..

The second time dia offer aku

Nk psycho aku lg skali lh tu

Tournament. Start bulan 4.

Ceyy nk nmpk cool sikit aku hesitate

But lemme tell u this

I kasi excuse yg plg jujur buat pembaca kt sini

SUMPAH AKU TAKUT WEH

MMG LA BLANJA SEMUA SPONSOR TANGGUNG TAPI SAPE JE MAU KENE GASAK DLM CUBIC BUAT KEJE SORG2 PRESSURE SORG2 ASYIK HADAP PAKAR NEGARA YG KEJAM

Keje design aje mmg dh xtido

dasar hati tisu

Hdp ni je dh cukup tabah. Elok lg la drpd haritu lari dari stpm.

Dulu aku masih boleh survive dgn adanya kwn2 yg actually nk amik seni n supportive..n u know what?

I admire their determination n never give up

Hati kental muka tembok telinga kebal

That’s what tru budak seni bagi aku

And they finally deserve their place after their outstanding effort

Unlike me yg so much dependant. Still kene psycho oleh ayah aku utk buat kereta. Sobs sobs. No worries daddy ur still a man of inspiration

I wanna be looked for who I am and what I can actually do. Bukannya sbb terpalit dgn segala kelebihan. Those are not me.

And if I bnyk kekurangan, I am willing to be taught because I wanted to. It’s my choice.

Pastu kalau kau duduk dlm kls design, pakar design akn cakap design, kalau kau dlm kelas network, pkr network akan ckp network. Paham kan?

Lepas tu…let the critic session begin!

Hyperbola utk situation ni mcm ko kene soal, libas dgn malaikat penjaga kubur tp dlm time frame Mizan slps Mahsyar nuh

Pergh, punyala nk kasi hyperbola mcm pernah lalu

Memalu-nakutkan bukan? Hahahaha

Sepatutnya kalau tak perlu bukak satu persatu kan best

Papar je semua dlm satu screen n then shortlist yg terbaik

Mcm paper spm..lol (aku tahu la sbb ni ayah aku punya keje..mmg rare ah nk dpt score elok)

Boleh thn jugak budak design lelaki class kita. Perempuan yg bagus setakat aku nmpk td pun Amel. Yep. Yg tu aku caye, sbb dia boleh buat video n menang first prize.

Lol ni semua pun sbb bermula drpd dr randomly complain kenapa batch yg dia ajar kalini suka 'berjalan'

I was like, huh? What's wrong with that? Dlm lab biasa pun diorg(bukan aku lah) jln rata2 sembang blablabla

Katanya senior sbelum ni bising still ya ampun tp bila suruh buat kerja, statik kerja(buat sungguh2)..ini tidak..berjln rata cerak tgk kwn, kerja sendiri xbuat pun

Ok maybe salah kami jugak sbb mengabaikan dia kt dpn- yg semestinya khusyuk memerhati, pastu sempat lg main face time lol..(tp aku waktu tu dh siap kerja)

Kira ok la tu drpd sedap2 gi seret bean bag pastu tido kt tgh karpet tu mntg2 ptg kan hahahahaha

So yeah..sapa nama tgh2 terlepas kena critic tu huntunglahhh

Aku pun kena critic gak

So apapun, i try to maintain rupa as professional as possible bcs i really wanna learn, kan?

Nasib baik juga sesi critic ni xberlarutan..haduh..*nervous laughter*

Tp hadiahnya…hari khamis xde lab!

HORAAYYY

..tp ada labtest >:)

Fuh selamat jadual balik aku

So kesimpulannya,

Nk taknak ko hdp je la

I believe ini semua plan admin faculty semacam mana subjek programming

You know..letak tenaga pakar sbg pengajar diploma sbb nk cari org utk that tournament

Seems legit, kan?

[bonjouritshaley]

My First Ever Flight

I have to say that my first ever flight was honestly amazing. On my way to the terminal, I went to the wrong gate. The man at the desk says to me “You are gate C93 and they just made a last call for boarding. Run.” 

This resulted in me SPRINTING to the gate, flip flops aggressively slapping the tiled floors and all. I reach the gate and ask a girl in front of me if I am in the right place. To my surprise she is french and shows me which line to go in! Next I go onto the plane and am very pleased to find I have a window seat. Just a few moments later, I find that the seat next to me is taken by the sweet french girl who helped me earlier! Her and I talk for a very long time. She is 34 and her name is Valentine. She tells me all about Paris and even lets me practice my french with her! She says the arrondissement that I am living in is the richest one and that she lives in an opposite one in the 11th arrondissent. Then when the plane takes off she sees that I am anxious and rubs my arm. Later on the plane she even walks with me to the bathroom. She is such a caring and nurturing woman and she has a really cool cactus tattoo on her wrist, too. I then watch Moana on my screen and am greeted with chicken and rice which is actually quite delicious.(I was also starving though). But flying is pretty amazing, the stars are very close. And seeing the lit up cities beneath me looks like something from a movie. When we arrived, Valentine insisted we walk together to the luggages and her and I exchanged social media. I am very grateful for her and I think that God had sent me an angel to look out for me. I did my first faire la bise with her when we departed! I’m excited that I have made my first french friend and to meet up with her in the near future!

[etudiante-en-echange]

Last week in France

March 20, 2017 So now that I have been back for a while, I thought it might be good to sit down and reflect on my experience, and talk about it overall, however, when I pulled up this blog to do this, I realized I never actually posted about my last week there. Luckily I made a list of everything I did that last week, and I have my personal journal, so I am going to do that now because one of my favorite memories of my time in France happened during that last week. Monday and Tuesday night were really normal nights. I was spending a lot of time cleaning my room, and packing everything up, because I knew the second half of my week would be very busy and emotional, so I wanted to get as much done as possible while I could. Wednesday I had my last after-school French lesson. We didn't do any work, but instead had a party. We were supposed to travel to a different city to my teacher's house, but my friend Gina who was leaving with me (and who lived about an hour out of Perigueux) would not have been able to catch the train to get there. Instead, we did games, trust exercises, and overall just had a good time. Afterwards, me, Gina (American), Vi (Thai), and Elisabetta (Italian) did some shopping, and just spent dome time on our last night all together. Thursday was the night that I want to remember forever. I was spending the night cleaning and packing my room when there was a knock at the door. This was strange because we live inside a school building, and the only people who ever come in are the people who live there, but when I went to answer it, Johan and Emma where at the door!!! They said they had a surprise for me, and we were going to get dinner together, so I grabbed some money and off we went. We went to my favorite little cafe (although they didn't know I had ever been there) and we sat and talked, and ate all night. I had a bacon potato stuffed crepe that was amazing and we had a really amazing night. It was so nice of them to do that for me and I will never forget that. Even now, sitting here thinking about them is making me sad. Friday was a pretty relaxed day at school (being that it was my last day). I had english class just before lunch, and my english teacher was absent for my last day so we had 2 hours of free time. One of my other teachers found me and said that my english teacher wanted to talk to me, and gave me her phone so Emma, Johan and I all went outside and me and my English teacher spoke on the phone for almost 45 minutes. Then we went back in and relaxed in the library for a while before Johan said he wanted to go for a walk (Emma had left) , so we walked around the school for a while, and he lead me very slowly to our classroom. He told me to open the door and when I did, all my classmates and most of my teachers where there, clapping and yelling. They had thrown a surprise party for me! They had local specialties for snacks (plus some of my favorite candies) they wrote a lovely message for me on the board, and they brought me gifts! My classmates gave me a lovely silver bracelet, a framed class photo, and a french flag signed by everyone, and the teachers bought me a recipe book of french classic pastries, written step by step and with qr codes that had videos so I could make them even if I don't understand the steps. It was really amazing and I have never felt more loved. My teachers all came up to me and asked me to "fais la bise" (give kisses on the cheek) to them. It was really amazing, and I had a lot of fun and I wish I had gotten this up sooner so some of my friends and teachers could have read it and seen how appreciative I am that they went to all that trouble for me. After that, I had a fairly normal lunch and last class of the day, although I didn't eat much because I had so much food at the party. After the end of my last class though, all my friends, except Emma and Johan, came and told me goodbye and wished me well. Then, Johan, Emma and I went into the city to have some fun one last time. We went back to the cafe, were I got the same thing and we had a quick snack, then we went shopping and Johan picked out outfits for me to try on. We had a lot of fun and a lot of laughs, but then he had to leave. Emma's grandma then drove us to her house where I saw their Christmas display, but then I had to say goodbye and go home. That part was really hard, and I walked into the building on the brink of tears before going into my room and crying. My host mom came in and comforted me, and we had a really nice moment, but during this, she told me something that I think has alone gotten me to where I am now. She told me "You are crying because you enjoyed it" and that has helped me so much through this last almost 2 months, remembering that all this pain I feel is because I had so much fun. It doesn't take the pain away, but it justifies it, and I would rather have the pain knowing that I have made what I hope are life-long friends and memories that will surely remain with me until I die, than have missed this opportunity. Saturday morning I got up early to take the train to Paris. Gina and I were both crying messes, but it was nice to have someone with me to help keep the sadness at bay. We got to Paris for our orientations, and apparently summer vacation was just ending in Australia and New Zealand, so I got to meet some amazing Aussies and Kiwis who went on 2 month summer programs. They were really cool to meet and to talk to, plus the 2nd semester people arrived, so I got to meet lots of people, and make lots of new friends, even if it was only for a day. I then had to get up in basically of the middle of the night to get on my plane and after that everything gets blurred together. I have written down that Sunday I took the plane home, but frankly I don't remember what happened when. Everything went fairly smoothly at the airport, and I got home just fine and finally saw my parents late Sunday night.