#made me think about how i get a similar feeling of dread from the cal scene in the post

[splattergutz]

the moment when the child murderer (in both ways) looks into the camera & you can feel the total dissociation from their actions. there is no way out of what they’ve done/what they’re going to do.

{Cal from Zero Day/Amma from Sharp Objects}

[yesimwriting]

Dying Starlight

A/n: i dont think an audience for this exists?? ik it’s not shadow and bone related, but ive been reading red queen and i wanted to try writing maven and ive been playing with this idea. umm...on the off-chance that there is an audience for this i do think of this as more of a series but i’ll probably end up deleting this lol 

(Series?) Summary: reader is a childhood friend of Mare’s who isn’t officially part of the Scarlet Guard but gets captured by Maven. As a prisoner, she feels like her mind is being messed with as she begins to see a more human side of Maven. The new King tells himself the only thing he sees in her is that she’s a way to get to Mare, but something about her genuiness is infectious. 

-- 

Irony twists things. Right now, the irony that my last thoughts might be about how I wish I had been trusted with a suicide pill twist my impending doom into something almost comical. I’d laugh, but I’d rather not startle the rats in my cell. This has been their home for presumably years, but I’ve only been down here a few hours. 

I scratch the back of my wrist, staring at tired stone walls like they’ve done something to me. I wish I knew what time it was. How long have I been down here? How long has it been since I was separated from Mare? An hour? Three?Each passing minute strikes me like a bullet, but I can’t count them. I’ve never had a talent for accurately feeling the passage of time.

My head aches, frustration and dread tangling themselves in the pit of my stomach. Mare told me the Queen can search through someone’s mind, seeing memories even they can’t remember. What will they do when they see I know virtually nothing? What will happen when they see how close Mare and I truly are? i can’t do anything and the unknown hurts more than my bruised rib. 

The sound of the heavy door that divides the luxury of the castle from the wasteland of the cells creaks. I only let my arms flinch, moving from my side to wrap defensively around my stomach. Dull footsteps echo down the pathway that lead to the cell I’m in. I don’t cringe, not even when the sound of walking stops. 

I was not born into a rich family, but I was born into a proud one. Fear was practically a criminal act in my household. I’ve been trained to suppress all signs of weakness. My eyes don’t leave the stone wall, I mentally trace the pattern of a long crack in a specific rock. It reminds me of the slope of the Big Dipper. 

Will I ever see stars again? The answer leaves a sharp pain in my chest. 

“Mare told me about you.” 

The words jar me, my stomach dropping in revulsion. Mare had trusted him, and here he stands--successful because he’s a traitor. I know what it’s like to be the most overlooked sibling and to crave to change that. I know what it’s like to want to succeed more than you want air in your lungs, but I don’t think I’d ever betray someone. I like to think that there’s a line even the monster in me won’t cross. 

I don’t look at him, partially out of an attempt to protest and partially because I’m afraid of what I’ll see. “She might have mentioned you in passing.” 

His scoff is ridiculous. “She didn’t lie about your sense of humor.” 

That almost makes me wince. His words are too close, too personal. It’s like he knows me. I turn my. head, ready to cut through the uneasy beginning to get to the miserable middle if it brings me to the end faster. 

“You’re here to torment me, not make small talk.” Turning had been a mistake. I regret it instantly. His expression is unforgiving--cold, sharp, and made up of only angles. But that’s not why I stare. I did not expect him to be objectively attractive. The fine slope of his nose, the sharpness of his cheekbones, and the ice blue of his eyes. I need to snap out of this mindset. I’m sure his beauty will not be so distracting when he’s burning me. “Though some might consider that the same thing.” 

He scoffs again, the sound dry. The sneer of his lips does not diminish his attractiveness. The fact makes me loathe him. “I wonder if you’ll still be so prone to humor after you’ve been broken--any information of worth extracted from your thoughts.” 

“Let me save everyone the trouble and just tell you everything that I know now.” My back straightens despite the pain in my ribs. I look pathetic, dirty and in a torn dress. He’s regal, dressed in fine, all black clothing. “I know that Mare wanted to kill you today, I know that she needed a distraction and that her distraction needed to be expendable, which is why I’m sitting in front of you.” I squeeze my hands together awkwardly, a bit of genuine irritation rolling in my stomach. “That’s literally all I know, I’m not even part of the Guard.” I scratch the back of my wrist. If I were him, I wouldn’t believe that, but I’m being honest. How pitiful can one person be that they’re worth more disconnected from the group they work for than as an actual member? “You don’t take that kind of risk for someone that’s only skill set is in thought.” 

I didn’t mean to say that out loud, but I don’t regret it. Maybe he’ll think that my story is so pathetic it has to be true. “You have to know more than that.” 

“The Scarlet Guard only reaches out to me on a need-to-know basis, and anything worthwhile to you is something I clearly didn’t need to know.” In a way, I’m glad I can’t give him anything. “So are you going to kill me with a bullet or do you prefer more flamboyant executions?” My death should be plain. I am human completely--I bleed red and I have no powers. “I do think anything more than a simple death is more trouble than I’m worth.” 

His lips press together oddly, something beneath his expression tightening. “You don’t think your dearest friend will return for you?”

The sarcasm in his voice sparks something in me I thought only my sister could. “I think she has a lot of responsibilities and I wouldn’t blame her for having priorities.” 

His eyebrows draw together. “I think you’re painfully unaware of how attached to you she is.” I press my lips into a thin line. “She’ll come for you.”

Something selfish in me hopes that he’s right. No one has ever wanted me enough to come back for me. My mother wanted perfect daughters that knew how to only think in terms of trapping men with stable careers. My sister did it, but I could never manage, and to my mother that made me useless. 

“If you believe it,” I mumble beneath my breath.

I don’t know if he hears me. I can’t bring myself to care if he did. “For your sake, you better not have lied to me.” 

My back relaxes against the raspy wall, fighting down a grimace as the motion irritates my rib injury. “Cross my heart, Your Highness.” 

I watch him carefully, his expression turning into something much more grim. “A King is referred to as His Majesty.” 

“My father was a prominent war general and my mother only wanted daughters she could use to social climb.” I fight down a grin. “I know what I said.” 

His expression darkens into something bone chilling. “I am the King and you’ll refer to me as such or deal with even less pleasant circumstances.” 

I fight against the urge to cower, picturing Mare’s strength in my veins. There’s weakness in everyone, and if I squint I can see the thin cracks in him. “You have everything--the crown, the power, the support of the people, and it’s still not enough. You won and you still feel like you’re competing.” 

“You don’t know anything,” he seethes, practically growling. 

I shouldn’t press him, but the more he reacts, the more weaknesses are revealed. “I know what it’s like to have a sibling that’s the sun, and no matter what you do, no matter how hard you try, you’re always trapped in a shadow.” 

The lighting makes his eyes look almost glazed over. “My mother will be here soon and the truth will be revealed.” 

He can run from me, but not the truth. Cal has nothing, he has everything--the father that never cared for him is dead, and yet he’s still trapped. Our similarities hurt me more than my physical injuries. 

Maven turns, his gaze moving off of me feels like the removal of heavy shackles. “It would do you well to not press me. You’re worth as much whole as you are broken.” 

There’s the strangest hint of something more to his voice. I wonder if he’s speaking to more than just me. “You haven’t won until that voice in your head telling you that you’re not enough is silenced.”

“You’re a powerless girl who isn’t even wanted by a dying cause and couldn’t find a husband to drag her above the poverty line. You know nothing about me, and if you keep pretending I’ll slaughter you in front of your dear friend.” 

He leaves without another word. I fall asleep with my back against the wall and my ribs aching. 

[walker-journal]

At Hell’s Gates (Bea, Adam, Luce- POTW)

Participants: Beatrice Vural (Spellcaster- Fiona), Lucinda Vural (Spellcaster-Cal), Adam Walker (Hunter- Tapir)

Summary: Adam brings Nell’s skin talisman to the Vural house to plan a rescue operation into a Hell Dimension with Luce and Bea as time runs out. 

Content Warning: Allusion to sibling death in the Bea resurrection plot

In a way Adam appreciated the breakneck speed of preparations, the staggering level of planning needed to even attempt this almost impossible task. Every second fussing over environment resist gear, talking to Naomi about atmospheric poisons, and running over possible dimensional scenarios with mom was one where he wasn’t thinking about Nell being tortured in hell. Eventually he just had to drug himself to sleep, as he’d be no use on the mission already exhausted. 

Adam caught a glimpse of his reflection in one of the windows of the Vural home. He looked like someone about to venture into a radiative wasteland or wade through mustard gas, heavy boots, sealed armor, and a gas mask hanging from his belt. In truth, even with all this equipment he was pathetically underprepared for what was coming. 

But as always, Adam put on a face of stony resolution. He’d mastered the unphased action hero act a long time ago, even if his reflection had a numb thousand-yard stare that didn’t quite fit. 

“So what’s the magic plan?” 

The bracelet around Luce’s wrist had pinged the second Adam had crossed the boundary line, the magic a reminder of the sister she had lost. Nell had been the one who’d insisted upon the bracelets, something simple and small that they could always keep on them. She’d been so different back then. Younger. Unburdened by the weight that this town placed on its inhabitants. Luce let out a sigh and made her way to the front door, letting Adam inside. He looked like he was going to be rolling up into Chernobyl and, for all any of them knew, he would be. They didn’t know what was on the other side of those portals. And as much as Luce wanted to rush into the first rift she saw, she knew she couldn’t. She couldn’t leave Bea here, alone, to worry and to curse her name. 

Cupping a glass of water in her hands, Luce looked over at her older sister, uncertain. “I don’t know. I’m not the one with the master plan, not this time.” Not ever really. She was just here to get things done, to bring Nell home. She might have lines now, boundaries she wouldn’t cross. But she needed to bring her sister home. “Bea, you find anything in the books on how we can get her back?”

In her early twenties Bea had been worried about her breakups and losing touch with her friends, how different that was from her sisters’ lives. How different that was from Adam’s life. He was walking into war for her baby sister and the eldest Vural could not help but see the flash of the blade cutting down when she looked at him. How many people would risk their lives for Nell? Would Adam be added to the list that had lost theirs for her? Nell, of course, was worth it, but Bea couldn’t help wishing that Adam and Nell could simply lead a life that was similar to Bea’s at their age. 

Her shadows swirled at her feet, agitated by the whirling emotions suffocating their mother, they clung to her ankles as she moved to grab a tome she had taken from Nell’s things. “We’ll be using her magic for this. Or at least we will be using an adjusted version of her magic,” Her voice flowed confidently through the space, coating every surface with honeyed hope that she did not feel. Is this how Luce and Nell felt when they lost her? Luce, now, had witnessed both of her sisters gone, taken unfairly from this world. In an impulsive move, Bea found her little sister’s hand, squeezing as she thought of the terror that must be drowning the middle Vural. “Adam, we will get her back.” Bea would destroy this world for her sister, if it meant she was safe. She would tear the fabric that kept this plane stable. She wondered if the universe knew, if it was prepared to go to war for Penelope Vural. Bea was ready. 

Adam had always been cautioned against hope. It was a purely therapeutic emotion, meant to comfort the dread of uncertainty. Esther Walker had instructed her children that facts should be assessed only for what they were rather than what we want them to be. We are not gods. This is not Hollywood. The cold universe wouldn’t fudge the numbers just because some monkeys on a random rock in the Milky Way had feelings in their skull. 

But Adam knew that not everyone grew up with their mom bluntly stating that they’d eventually lose everyone they care about in the long war. While Adam knew this grimness was Esther’s way of loving him authentically, it’d probably be cruel to give Nell’s sisters the same treatment right now. 

“Hey if we got a plan anything’s possible” he assured Beatrice with a confident lie of smile. Trying not to look at the darkness bubbling at the deathless woman’s feed, Adam turned his attention to Luce briefly. “Hey uh, resident fire scientist. Any way I could get something that might give me a chance if like...there is like an inferno or something? Just a few seconds to get the fuck out?” 

Adam shifted his weight, leather and alloyed kevlar creaking with the moment. “How do we get access Nell’s magic then?”

Bea’s hand slipped into her own and, for the first time, Luce realized just how changed her sister was. The familiar warmth, the heat that had always matched her own-- a source of both frustration and comfort that had followed their whole lives… It was gone now. Bea’s fire was gone. She didn’t have it anymore. She never would. But she was still here, still standing, still trying. And Luce was going to try too. She’d reclaimed her fire, she’d manage to fan the spark back into a blaze, and now that she had the power back? The least she could do was help Adam. To keep him safe. Fuck. She nodded slowly, mulling over how she’d manage something like that. Their mother, she’d made charms to protect Nell from their fire as children, back before they had total control. “I think we have something that we could use-- a necklace Nellie used to wear when she was little. Kept her safe from us, before we could control our fire.” She said, dreading the idea of going into Nell’s room to look for the charm. She didn’t want to step foot in there. Just because she could expect the same anguish that had overtaken her when she’d went into Bea’s room last year-- that didn’t make it any easier. This town, this fucking town. She’d thought that the nightmare had ended, that Bea was safe, that Nell was safe. But nothing changed here.

Looking at the book in Bea’s hand, Luce swallowed. “That’s one of Nells. I don’t know how to do what she does, Bea. Neither one of us do. Summoning, blood magic-- I… What are you planning?”

The charm. Bea had forgotten about the charm that used to keep Nellie safe from them. A physical reminder that she was different from her sister. Bea didn’t blame her for not keeping it on her as an adult. “Do you know where that is?” Nell could have thrown it out years ago, but the youngest Vural tended to know when to hold onto things that could be useful. Bea hoped that she had classified this as something useful enough to hold onto, even with it’s baggage. “I don’t know how to either, but Leah is going to help me research too,” She squeezed her sister’s hand. “We have some luck on our side, we’re already somewhat connected. Her magic is, obviously, connected to ours, but by bringing me back we’re even further intertwined. Your magic combined brought me back, so we can use that as a way to channel her too.” It wouldn’t be that simple though, there were more steps that she wasn’t quite too sure on yet. “We need something else, something to track her too, but I’m not completely sure how to do that yet, if you have any suggestions.”

Adam nodded and mouthed thanks to Luce as Beatrice spoke. He hated to part the sisters with something that reminded them of Nell but when you are about to try a longshot, anything that could ease the odds even slightly was needed. Beatrice's question brought a stab of pain as Adam stirred from where he’d sat, reached into a pocket, and withdrew a battered compass. 

“Nell gave this to me, it was uh a present,” Adam’s stomach clenched at the cruel irony of being given a six months dating present by a sad fire cat. It’d been the morning after he’d taken Nell out to ask their relationship to end for safety’s sake, only for that to be the mistake that caused the disaster he’d hoped to avoid. 

“It points uh,” the answer was that it pointed towards home, though Nell had cautioned that it was more metaphorical than literal. “It can take me to her,” he stammered, trying to keep his voice steady. 

Shifting uncomfortably, Luce swallowed. “It’s in her room. I can…” I don’t want to go in there, not alone. But you could never understand, Bea. You weren’t left behind the way we were. “Get it. Yeah, I’ll grab it.” She said before pushing back from the kitchen table, her hand slipping from Bea’s. She lingered in the doorway for a moment, watching as Adam pulled out a worn looking compass. As Adam explained what it was, Luce couldn’t help but wonder how Nell had gotten her hands on something like that. And just how lucky they were that she had. Luce nodded. “Good. That should… definitely help.” She was dragging her feet, she knew that. Just bite the bullet. With a slightly forced smile, Luce patted the door frame. “I’ll get the necklace.”

The walk up the stairs and down the hall to Nells was a short one, but every step filled Luce with that same anxiety she’d felt every time she had walked past Bea’s door last summer. It was a dread, a fear. That no matter what they did, it wouldn’t be enough. And that all that would be left of her sister would be tucked away in a room. That everything inside would stop being a part of Bea, of Nell, and start being a memorial. A memory. She didn’t want to step foot inside that room. But she had to. If they wanted to find Nell, this was their best shot. Luce pushed open the door and forced herself not to pay attention to the potted plants on their shelves, their leaves wilting a little from lack of care. She didn’t allow herself to dwell on the desk with books still open, the bed unmade with rumpled sheets, as though Nell had just left for the day. These were all reminders of her sister that she couldn’t handle. Instead, Luce began to look for the necklace. 

It wasn’t until this past year that Bea truly understood love. In a sense, she had looked at love the same way her mother did, based on what the other person could do for her. Bea had collected people for their skills, pocketed the ones who were the most useful and claimed she understood love through them. It wasn’t until she had been lost that she got just how powerful love was and even then, though she had seen so much work put into her resurrection, she hadn’t witnessed it all. She hadn’t seen the planning or the original mourning, she had not been involved in the panic and grief. She was unable to escape it here, where love twisted into melancholy suffocating them as aptly as summer heat did in the afternoon. 

Bea reached out to Adam, “Can I hold it? I’ll give it back to you after.” She couldn’t take the physical piece of Nell he had left, but looking at it would help her form a plan. They were all relying on her to make a plan that would bring Nell back. With Luce gone searching, she looked at him for a long moment, considering him. “Adam, I know how much a person would do for Nell.” I know sacrifice and I feel like I’m looking at one. “Please do your best to come back to us too.” Some of that honey sweet hope had dissipated now that Luce was gone, Adam didn’t need that, not in the way Luce did. “Is there anyone who can go with you as back up?” Please, don’t do this alone. 

Adam pressed the compass in Beatrice’s hand. It took Adam a bit to answer Beatrice's request. His wide distant eyes and the lost way they drifted around the Vural’s home, looking anywhere but Bea’s face, revealed the lie behind the firm set of his jaw.

It’d been a long time since Adam had felt his age. Uncertainty and finding yourself were unnecessary when you’d grown up already knowing you’d be a soldier and what war you’d be fighting in. His civilian peers had gone through heartbreaks, angst, anger, cycles of rebellion, maturation, acceptance, and reinvention. But Adam had already grown up at sixteen, when he signed away his life to fight and die in service to humanity. He’d learned how to make bombs, lethal holds, blades, marksmanship, and how to keep his head in a warzone when everyone else had been fretting about what school clique to fall in. 

But now Adam suddenly felt like a child in this tactical armor. It was as if he’d finally woken up from a dream to realize the weight was too heavy for him, but it was already way too late to learn all that stuff the other kids took for granted. Adam marveled at how narrow his own knowledge of the world was. 

Honestly? He knew way more about how to kill monsters than how to be human. 

With bittersweetness, Adam realized that made him exactly what Nell hadn't needed, and only now that she was trapped in Hell was he an ideal partner. 

“I promised Luce I’d come with her back to Earth,” was the only assurance Adam could offer Beatrice. He shook his head at the matter of back up. “I’ve got family and Hunter friends who volunteered but I can’t ask them to take this risk. Besides we need all hands on deck to deal with all the shit coming out of the Portals.”

There were times people should be selfish and this felt like a time, but Bea knew that Adam wouldn’t agree. She could spend all night trying to convince him otherwise and it wouldn't work. He was more stubborn than Nellie sometimes, which was saying something. They were the only people that could get through to each other sometimes. It reminded her a bit of how she and Felix could be with each other. 

“Is it going to be that bad?” She had no idea what these portals could mean for everyone else after all this. Honestly, she didn’t really care what happened as long as the people she loved were going to be okay. “You aren’t asking them if they offered, Adam.”

“In situations like these the portals often get worse, opening wider till they let bigger and bigger things through, stuff that our weapons won't work on,” Adam claimed, suggesting perhaps that the already deadly things coming through the dimensional breaches right now were just small fry compared to what really waited in the beyond. 

“Eventually we get what’s sometimes called a Hellmouth,” the Hunter said, numbly staring at a wall as the present mixed with another time where doomsday had loomed near. “Unless its stopped reality itself could be permanently fucked around here...well...fucked even harder I mean, in a way that can’t be covered up from the outside world any more. They’ll probably notice the tentacle godzillas after a bit.”  

Everyone had called Dad a hero. Had he felt like this, just another expendable piece of kindling thrown on the fire to keep ‘normal’ going for just a little while longer? 

“Hey uh,” Adam prevaricated with a shrug knowing Beatrice was correct. “I’ve ask people for supplies and stuff. They’ve been very generous, but actually going in is something I don’t think I have the right to ask.” Of someone that wasn’t raised to die that way, was rest that was left unsaid. 

It was always the end of the world, it seemed. No matter what everyone did to fix it, something else would come and take the mantle. Bea couldn’t help but feel as though sometimes these things were inevitable. It didn’t stop her from understanding the need to fight, if anything she got that this made people fight harder, because at least they had done something then. Still to fight for a world that didn’t know you were doing it must be exhausting. “So, it needs to close or else we’re all going to die via horrible ways.” The countdown they had already started to tick faster. “I guess it's good that we have people who are going to help then.”

Her throat tightened with unsaid words of caution and unnecessary attempts to dissuade him. Bea knew the look in his eyes, knew that no matter what she did or said, he wouldn’t turn from this course of action. She was sure she would have seen the same look in her own if someone had dared to stop her before she found Nell. “I suppose giving you supplies is enough.” It wasn’t. 

Bea went back to Nell’s book, hoping that skimming again would reveal something else. And it did. She looked between the compass in her hand and the word bone. “Adam, do you know if Nell’s been keeping anything she’s killed? Like the bones of a monster?” The words came out quickly, excited by the potential that laid between them now. 

Adam nodded. “On our first mission together, there was an Alchemist dude who was using a Dolophage to harvest intense emotions and memories from trauma patients,” the Hunter explained, swallowing down the bittersweet feeling of that recollection. It was hard to imagine that’d hadn’t even been a year ago. “Nell forged the Reversal Talisman so the Dologphage’s powers reflected back on it when it tried to tentacle my brain,” Adam explained, poking his ears to illustrate that he’d volunteered to get fed on by the demon as bait. “After we killed it she kept its bones.” 

Digging around in Nell’s room wasn’t easy. Luce had known it wasn’t going to be easy. Not when there was so much uncertainty and that sense of doubt loomed over her every move. The moment she’d heard that Nell was gone, the second she’d heard from Adam, a pit had formed in her stomach. Or maybe it reopened-- maybe it wasn’t a pit so much as it was a gaping wound, created by Bea’s death, that she’d barely been able to tend to. She hadn’t stopped to process the loss, the grief, the anger. The anger. She’d only managed to get a hold of that until it was too late. And just as she was finally coming to grips with the events of the past year, White Crest found a fucking way to open up the wounds. Shutting the dresser drawer she’d been pawing through, Luce settled down on the edge of Nell’s unmade bed. 

Luce clenched her jaw as she tried to sort through her thoughts, trying to figure out where Nell might keep the necklace. But all she could think of was how much it would hurt if she had to do this for real. If she had to pack up boxes of Nell’s things. She hadn’t had to do it with Bea, they’d known how to bring her back, known exactly what they needed to do, even if they weren’t sure if it would work. But Nell was lost. Gone. And Luce had no fucking clue how she could help. Swallowing, Luce wiped her eyes with the back of her hand before her gaze fell on a simple box on Nell’s bookshelf. Luce moved towards it, apprehensive. Her fingers lifted the lid and inside were little trinkets-- magical in nature. Some of them familiar to her, others she didn’t know where Nell had even found them. But there it was. The necklace Nisa had enchanted all those years. Luce took the necklace from the box and closed the box before hurrying out the door. She didn’t want to stay in that room, didn’t want to see that place again. Not until Nell was back. Not until they were all safe.

“Hey. Found it.” Luce said as she held up the little silver charm necklace. “We might need to re-up the magic, but it should help. And hey. Might help with the tracking situation. She wore this all the time.”

Plans were beginning to race rapidly through Bea’s mind, wheels spinning so quickly that she was almost scared they’d burn out. “With that bone we could connect with her,” She mused, before grinning at Luce. “And with the necklace we’ll also be able to tell how close Adam is to her. He’ll be able to use the compass, hopefully, in the dimension to find her quickly.” With eyes brighter than they had been since Nell was gone, Bea looked between the two younger adults,“We have a plan now, a really good one, with three ways to track her. We’re going to get her back.” And the moment she got back, she was going to get the lecture of her fucking life. 

Adam nodded. “Hey...thanks both of you, like I know you’d do this for Nell anyway, but I still appreciate you folks having my back on this.” 

Luce leaned against the doorway, taking in the scene. Bea, determined, her old fire lit inside her with this new mission to get her sister back. Adam, weary in a way that no one should be at his age, but filled with the same resolve. And then there was her. She fell somewhere between the two of them-- somewhere between grim determination and optimism. They were going to bring Nell home, come hell or high water. Which, in this town? Either could happen. “Sounds like we’ve got a game plan then.” Luce said with a nod. “Of course, Adam. And… thanks for leading the charge here. We’re gonna bring her home.”

[sarcastically-defensive17]

OMG, so I had this idea like Luke x reader where they're not public but Cal, Ash and Mike don't like her (probably bc Luke has been hurt so many times) buuut they individualy come around bc they saw like some cute moments of reader being supportive, or taking care of Luke, or being total badass and like they come around and she meets Liz and Liz is like totally happy with how smitten Luke is and well they just have this fluffy moment Pretty please 👀

Perfect - L. Hemmings

Okay so, I was happy with this but then I didn’t know how to end it so IM SORRY IF IT IS BAD. THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST, I HOPE YOU LIKE IT! ITS ALSO SHORT SO IM SORRY FOR THAT! IM NERVOUS TO POST BAHAHAHA

Original story by sarcastically-defensive17

It was something out of the ordinary for Ashton, Calum and Michael to not give somebody a chance: so it infuriates Luke to not extent as they deliberately made efforts to avoid Y/N at all costs.

The three men were the kindest people he knew, so he couldn’t fathom why they chose to make his new girlfriend feel less welcome than she already did.

Y/N tried to ignore the cold shoulders she received, knowing it was their way of trying to protect Luke. His past few relationships had resulted in him getting hurt so badly that he was scared to give it another chance.

Until she came along.

It was hard, in his line of work to find somebody who didn’t want him for his fame or his money, but he practically struck gold when he met Y/N, who was so deep in her rock and roll love that she had never heard of a band from Australia named 5 Seconds of Summer.

It was quite a shock when, after a few dates, she found his almost decade long music career listen in black, white and every Colour of Michael Cliffords hair online.

They were now onto their fifth month of dating.

It took the a while to bring the guys around. Calum found comfort in his friends relationship when he witnessed Y/N going into complete nurse mode, and having so much patience while Luke experiences the dreaded man-flu.

He was always one for the drama.

Ashton got close to the woman when he visited Luke at his house during a long writing process. Everybody knew that when Luke was writing, he would go days without proper sleep and not take care of himself, so Ashton, ever the doting friend, intended to bring him coffee and food to make sure he was getting nutrition.

He didn’t expect to walk in on the two of them playing some of their old songs. He learned a lot about Y/N that day, including the fact that she can definitely keep up with him on the drums.

Michael was by far the hardest to bring around. He had been the one to set Luke up with his last girlfriend, who ultimately broke his heart after months of emotional manipulation, so he was hesitant about getting involved in any way with another relationship of Luke’s, out of pure guilt.

It took many stressful weeks and a very intense tournament of Super Smash Bros. but Y/N eventually earned both her victory and a boatload of respect from Michael Clifford. Although, that was built majorly after a tweet surfaced of Y/N defended both the band and Michael’s fiancé from hateful trolls under the guise as a fan. Her and Luke were keeping their relationship out of the public eye for now.

That proved she cared about Luke, but also about his friends. And she was a badass at video games.

The next person to meet, was the most terrifying for Y/N.

She stood by Luke’s side outside of the modestly sized house. The shutters curtains inside were drawn open, and from the outside she could see two people bustling about.

“You okay?” Luke’s blue eyes bored down at hers, concern creating a thick film over the icy colour.

She breathed in through her nose for a minute, breathing out a sigh and smoothing her hands over her black dress, “Just peachy,” her smile was tight and nervous. “Trying to make sure I don’t ruin my chances to get your parents to like me.”

Luke laughed loudly, and she shushed him immediately to increase the tune before they were to enter.

“You’re worries my parents won’t like you? They like everybody!”

“That’s what you said about the guy,” she mumbled, thinking back on the numerous times Luke had promised her the three would like her, and the amount of time she spent trying to win them over. “I’m just nervous, sorry.”

He laced his fingers with her, pressing a kiss to her knuckles, “I’ll be right by your side, my love.”

She flushed at his words, taking a deep breath and pressing her finger to the button. A bell chime sounded, and moments after an older blonde woman was pulling Luke into a hug and pressing kisses to his cheeks.

Y/N found herself smiling at the contact.

The blonde woman turned to her, a wide smile on her face that matched Luke’s. He got a lot of his looks from his mother, that was for sure.

“And you must be the girl who has my baby so smitten,” she pulled Y/N into a crushing hug. “He hardly shuts up about you. It’s so nice to finally put a person to the pictures he sent me!”

She flushed at the comment, shooting Luke a look over his mothers shoulder to which he flashed a cheeky grin.

“It’s so nice to meet you, Mrs Hemmings,” Y/N matched the smile on the hemmings’ faces, feeling happiness wash off of the pair.

“Please, it’s Liz to you,” she pointed at the woman teasingly. “Come on, dinner is almost ready and Andy is fussing with the tellie.”

She was guided through the door by Liz, Luke being left to follow behind them. She was pulled over to an older man who had the same eyes as Luke.

He brightened up at the sight of his son and their guest, “Oh, somebody dragged the Giraffe in. And you must be Y/N.”

She was offered a hand to shake, and she completed a gesture with a smile at his comment about Luke.

“Nice to meet you,” she beamed.

Her nerves were building on the surface as they sat through dinner.

Liz couldn’t help but notice the glances her son would sneak at his beau, and her heart swelled at the sight of him so happy.

She told Luke to excuse himself to clean the dishes with his father, and after slight protest from the two men they conceded, leaving Y/N and Liz alone.

It was quiet for a beat, Y/N not knowing whether to start a conversation or wait for Liz to speak. The older woman made the decision for her.

“You make him so happy.”

Y/N raised her eyebrows, mouth dropping slightly at the emission, “Uh, I do? I mean-“

Liz chuckled placing a hand on her arm to calm the woman’s nerves.

“Honey, Luke doesn’t bring just anybody round to meet us. We’ve only met one of his girlfriends before you, so you must mean a lot to him,” she winked, her blonde hair falling onto her shoulders as she rubbed the woman’s arm.

“Really?” Y/N couldn’t believe the confession. Surely Luke had done this before, it doesn’t mean he values her anymore than he did the other girls.

“I’m serious, Y/N.” Her face holds a smile, but her eyes shout nothing but truth. “I can see it in the way he looks at you. I think my baby boy is in love,” she whispers the last bit, shooting a sly glance towards the kitchen where Luke is with Andy.

Y/N flushes and turns her gaze down to her hands on the table, “I can’t deny that I feel the same way about him.”

Liz erupts into a wide grin, pulling the woman into a hug before she has the chance to realize.

A throat clears in the entry to the dining room, and they turn to see the Hemmings men watching the scene with raised brows. They look so similar that it brings a lopsided smile to Y/n’s face.

“Everything alright?” Luke asks, leaning over to kiss Y/N’s forehead and take his seat next to her.

“Everything is fine, isn’t it, dear?” Liz smirks, watching the way the two hold each other close.

“Everything is just perfect,” Y/N rests her head on her lovers shoulder, smiling at the woman in the room.

[driedlasagna]

More Tangled Thoughts: New Dream Kids Edition

ok so first things first: I am still working on a fic that incorporates the prompts I got a while ago on another post about the new dream kids, it’s just hard to write a scavenger hunt lmao

also, these are my headcanons about Rapunzel and Eugene’s kids: I will be using the names I came up with for them as well as just the ideas I have about them. If you don’t agree with any of it- great! If you agree with them- great! I love seeing everyone’s interpretations of these characters and what i have to say is not the end all be all (obviously) 

ok gonna put a cut here bc idk how long this will get

ok so i think basically everyone agrees that the new dream kids are twins so like....they’re twins that hasn’t changed

The names i randomly chose for them are Emmeline and Callan, (i like being able to give characters nicknames-theirs are Emmie and Cal) but i was thinking and after seeing people headcannoning that Rapunzel wasn’t her original name (similar to Eugene’s being Horace) i was like...hmmm

so I decided Rapunzel’s name was initially Emilia, named after some relative Emmeline and then...boom full circle her daughter is named Emmeline

I have absolutely no explanation for Callan’s name i just thought it sounded like it would work for the tangled universe

ok now into personalities

I was thinking Callan would maybe be quieter, but maybe not in a ‘doesn’t speak’ sort of way??

like Emmeline doesn’t take any shit and she’s very vocal but Callan is just more reserved

but when they’re together all bets are off and they wreak HAVOC like the guards thought they had their hands full with Eugene when he was Flynn Rider but now there’s the kids of him and Princess Rapunzel (aka another person you really can’t tie down) and it’s like being sneaky is in their genes

also Eugene (and Kiera and Catalina) probably teaches them some sneaky tricks but like...on the down low. Rapunzel isn’t thrilled when she learns about this but like she also finds it hilarious and in reality doesn’t mind bc the twins are using it to sneak a cupcake or two, not steal a crown

Emmeline takes more after Eugene and Callan takes more after Rapunzel, but both LOVE painting on the walls of their rooms

Emmeline dreams of being a guard and doesn’t love the idea of being fully in charge of running a kingdom. Callan wants to be a great artist like his mother and isn’t necessarily scared of the possibility of being king one day

Later in their lives, this kind of turns into Callan actually becoming King of Corona while Emmeline marries a princess from another kingdom and is Queen there- she’s super happy about that bc she doesn’t want all of the pressure being The Head of a kingdom comes with, she’s like the second in command kind of thing and most likely becomes very involved with that kingdom’s guard

so yea they’re both not straight. probably bi but yea. Callan might be ace or aro or both idk 

but i LOVE the idea of a prince coming from another kingdom and both of the twins have a crush on him. I think i made a post about this before but i should really write a fic of this 

The twins absolutely LOVE Max and Max LOVES the twins. Obviously he’s at the very end of his life (bc he’s a horse) when the twins are old enough to interact with him and he probably dies before they’re 10

both twins are known to speak their minds but especially Emmeline

she learned very quickly that she needs to filter her thoughts during diplomatic events and put on a face (another reason she absolutely dreads the idea of being Corona’s Queen) but can still get away with snide remarks to Callan....sometimes

the Prince of Corona has been known to laugh so hard during events that water comes out of his nose. Eyewitnesses say the Princess sitting next to him always looks very pleased with herself when this happens

the twins love making each other laugh. they have a great sibling relationship but obviously do fight sometimes bc that’s just how siblings be

I know i’ve been describing Emmeline as like...kind of rigid but she is also soft and has ‘classic princess qualities’ i hate how that sounds but idk how else to put it

basically Emmeline can and will fuck you up or mess with you but she LOVES getting an excuse to dress up and attend balls and similar events (may or may not have to do with her big fat crush on the princess from Bayangor) 

Callan enjoys his more comfy, non-princely-duties clothes but also loves dressing up for events

the twins ADORE their family. Uncle Lance tells amazing stories (almost as good as their father’s stories and that’s saying a l o t), their cousins Kiera and Catalina are the best babysitters (bc they let them sneak around and ride dessert carts through the halls), Uncle Varian is always doing the coolest things and makes the best hot chocolate in all of Corona, and their grandmother and grandfathers just absolutely spoil them bc they didn’t get to be a part of their own kid’s childhoods bc they love their grandkids sm

Callan, especially when he was a toddler, ALWAYS finds himself in someone’s arms. that kid LOVES being held and everyone knows this

even though he doesn’t compete in it, Callan always enjoys Contest of the Crowns bc he is his sister’s number 1 supporter, even if they’re mad at each other

Emmeline’s favorite holiday is the Goodwill Festival. She absolutely loves the gopher (she finds that animal absolutely adorable) and just all around enjoys the happiness and good feelings that radiate through the kingdom during it

They do know Cass, but not super well. They first meet her when they’re like maybe 3 or 4 and visits are fairly sporadic and few and far between, but they do love their Aunt Cass (i feel like she has Aunt Willow vibes- ie, travels a lot but makes time every now and then to visit)

Emmeline and Callan are probably the only kids in all of Corona who just call Monty ‘Monty’ and not ‘Uncle Monty’. Monty loves them, they love Monty, and both he and Rapunzel put aside their friendly rivalry when it comes to the kids, but for some reason the twins just never ended up adding the ‘uncle’ to his name (Rapunzel does not mind. Eugene thinks she’s almost smug about it)

the twins are obsessed with the stories Rapunzel and Eugene tell them. The story of how they met is one of their favorites. it’s been told to them for as long as they can remember, but they only learned the full story sometime when they were in between the ages of 10 and 13. That night they slept in their parents room.

Lance is the one who tells the twins about Eugene’s Flynn Rider days, but doesn’t mention the Flynn Rider in his stories is their father. The twins are confused by this bc Eugene reads them the actual Flynn Rider books (which they love) and when they ask Eugene about it (”Uncle Lance told us you would know!”) they don’t initially believe him when he comes clean to having been the thief. It takes Rapunzel and quite a few wanted posters (”that’s obviously not you- the nose isn’t right!” “THANK YOU!”) to convince them otherwise. 

ok this is getting really long so i think i’ll stop there. honestly, im not expecting anyone to read this fully bc of how long it is and it’s just me rambling again, but if you did, thank you! i really appreciate it! I’ve gotten addicted to sharing my thoughts in this manner so like...this is most likely not the last time i do this lol. also i didn’t proofread this bc frankly i dont care

the amount of unfinished new dream kid fics in my wips.....astronomical. 

[imstillabiggay]

helllo, are you open to prompts?? if so, JEALOUS CALLUM. Maybe comes back from his honeymoon to find Ben with a new guy?

for some reason this took the longest time and about three attempts to get right. nevertheless i hope you enjoy it and it’s somewhat similar to what you were after!!xx (btw i love all of your writing so much)

The marriage and honeymoon had went off without a hitch. Both Callum and Whitney had a lovely day, filled with friends and family and laughter before going to spend a week at the Lake District. Leaving had been more difficult than Callum had first expected and he wasn’t sure why, whether it was the fear of facing Ben or the unhappiness he felt at the prospect of ditching the beautiful scenery for Walford.

“Why don’t we go to The Vic tonight? See everyone and let them know we’re back?” Whitney offered when they first got to their flat, a feeling of dread rushing through Callum almost instantly. Throughout the past week, Callum had convinced himself that he didn’t care about Ben anymore but if that was really true, the anxiety he was feeling over the thought of running into Ben wouldn’t be there.

“Why? Thought we could spend our first night back together? Just the two of us, movie night?” Callum offered, practically pleaded, as he moved from the living room into the kitchen where Whitney was stood.

“Cal,” she laughed lightly. “We’ve spent the past week together, come on, I miss everyone,” it didn’t take long for Whitney to drag them both into the local pub, Linda and Mick greeting them and giving them a warm welcome, all four of them sharing hugs.

Within moments Callum’s eyes were wandering across the punters and landing on Ben, Callum wasn’t surprised to see him in the pub, it was his local after all and he spent a lot of time in there with Jay or Lola. What was surprising to Callum was the fact he was sat close to another man, laughing, sharing space and touching almost too indecently for a pub.

Everything that Callum had been telling himself for the past week, that he loved Whitney, that he was going to be happy from now on and that Ben was nothing more than a distant memory shot out of the window as his gut twisted and his body filled with an unfamiliar feeling. It took a moment to place the feeling as jealousy. What right did he have to be jealous? He had Whitney, his future was all mapped out for him and he was ready to live it out with his wife, so why did the sight of Ben with another man fill him with nothing but jealous rage?

Callum managed to sit quietly with Whitney for a little while, ignoring her concerned looks and trying even harder to ignore the laughs coming from Ben’s table.

“Let’s take this back to mine,” Ben’s date offered and Ben wasn’t one to refuse, following after the man out of the pub. Callum stood seemingly on reflex.

“Callum?” Whitney’s eyebrows furrowed as she looked up at her husband and he was quick to soothe her with a quick peck, brushing a hand over her shoulder.

“I have to talk to Ben, I have uh- business to sort. I’ll meet you back at the flat,” Callum lied through gritted teeth and fled from the pub, even with Whitney calling his name, sounding confused and distressed over his sudden urgency. “Ben! Ben, wait,” Callum begged as he followed after the couple. He was lucky Ben didn’t clock him straight in the jaw, god knows he deserved it.

“I’m kind of busy here, Callum. Whatever it is can wait,” there was no room for argument as the man spun on his heel and continued to walk, leaving Callum floundering and flustered behind him.

“Ben, please. Come to the Arches? There’s stuff I have to ask you about,” Callum sounded desperate even to his own ears and he cringed slightly, wanting nothing more than to just sink into the floor. What was he doing? He was going to mess everything up and for what? One more night of bliss? It wasn’t worth it but Callum couldn’t help himself and couldn’t see himself running back to the pub, not when he had gathered the guts to finally make the first move with Ben.

“We ain’t got nothing to discuss, Callum. Go back to your wife,” Ben sounded cold, harsh and cut off but Callum was expecting nothing less. He was never exactly going to be welcomed back with open arms by Ben.

“Give me five minutes,” when the man that was on the date with Ben came to an abrupt stop, Callum held his breath slightly as the man’s eyes flicked from Ben to Callum and then back again.

“Tonight was nice but maybe some other time, yeah? You’ve clearly got stuff on your plate right now,” not the type to put up a fight, Ben watched as his date strolled away. Callum’s first feeling was relief and he let out the breath he had been holding, feeling ashamed over the fact he had just purposefully ruined Ben’s night and he felt good about it. That was until Ben started walking away at an even faster pace than before, not glancing back at Callum once, who practically tripped over his feet to follow after Ben.

“What the fuck is your problem?” Ben demanded once they made it to the Arches, finally whirling around to look at Callum properly.

“I don’t know,” Callum whispered in response, feeling like a child getting scolded.

“Don’t give me that bullshit. You give me nothing but radio silence for weeks on end, you get married, fuck off for a week and now all of a sudden you think I’m willing to just drop my plans and talk to you? You’re deluded, this isn’t just a stupid game we’re playing anymore, it’s your marriage you’re messing with,” Ben was seething, anger bubbling up in his gut and Callum knew he had a right to be angry, unlike Callum who hadn’t a single right to get envious of the man Ben was on a date with, not when he had a wife willing to offer him her entire life.

“I know, I know that, Ben but just seeing you with him. I hated it. I didn’t think it would be like this still. I thought I could get married and move on and forget about it, forget about you. But I can’t, not when seeing you in the pub with someone else makes me feel the way it did,” Callum confessed, tears welling in his eyes because he was confused, conflicted. How was he supposed to ignore his feelings for Ben, ignore Ben in general when they lived in such close proximity? It wasn’t supposed to be this way anymore.

“You’re jealous. That’s rich, considering what you put me through for months on end,” Ben scoffed, his demeanour softening only slightly at the sight of tears in the other man’s eyes. A sigh escaped Ben’s lips as he folded his arms and rested against the desk, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe he was about to try and talk rationally to Callum, after everything he had done. “You made your choice. I gave you an option, told you it wouldn’t go away, but you made your bed, you’ve got no choice but to lie in it.”

“I can’t do that. If I could I wouldn’t be here. Wouldn’t be wandering after you like a god damn lost puppy,” Callum defended the best he could, rubbing a hand across his forehead in frustration. As Callum walked forwards, closer to Ben, he continued to speak, his voice shaking with each word. “I don’t want to hurt Whitney, not when she’s been nothing but patient with me, she cares about me,” he stopped right in front of Ben, staring down at the man.

“Then why are you here?” Almost as if he couldn’t stop himself, Ben placed his hand on Callum’s chest, only a light touch and whether it was there for Ben’s own benefit or to keep Callum at a distance, Callum wasn’t sure. Why was he there? He could’ve dealt with the jealousy surely, continued to ignore all his feelings and carry on with his own date with Whitney, he could’ve let Ben do his own thing. Instead he was here, staring down at Ben, their breaths mingling in the short distance between them.

In answer to Ben’s question, Callum squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his lips to Ben’s.

What started as a tense and almost awkward kiss quickly became heated and desperate, the emotions that had been building between them for the past month pouring out of both of them at once. Callum gripped at every part of Ben he could manage, like he was trying to reassure himself that Ben was here, that Ben was still ready and willing even though Callum had chose Whitney over him, even though Callum had made the wrong choice.

Though there was a constant, niggling feeling of guilt and anxiety eating away at the back of Callum’s mind, the overwhelming feeling of being enveloped entirely by Ben made the jealousy seem so small and irrelevant, because even though Callum was going to mess up again and again, already had messed up repeatedly, Ben was his entirely. And Callum was fairly certain deep down they both knew Callum was and always would be Ben’s in return.

[5-seconds-of-bucky]

You’re a Dancer

A/N: I got kinda carried away with these so sorry bout that. (I'm trying to ignore the fact that I failed a math quiz I thought I did well on and this seems to be helping ) Also, most of them kinda stray away from the whole dance idea (just a bit) but they're all centered around it. Well, enjoy reading and thanks for being awesome! I would really appreciate some feedback. Also, is anybody else a dancer? Thanks lovely peoples!

Warning: Swearing

Luke 

"The following people have been dismissed: Kasey Noblant, Corey Black, Anabelle Melia, James Smith, Katherine Rangel, and Andrew Curry. Thank you for your time." 

You had made it past the first step of the audition process. You were almost positive the multiple mistakes you had made during the ballet audition would have your name crossed off the list. Apparently it didn't. You knew you were close to being crossed off though. You would have to work your butt off if you wanted this summer intensive scholarship. 

"Ladies, please put on your tap shoes. The next portion will consist of a short warmup led by Mr. Luke Hemmings along with a combination." 

"I'm going to get cut next. I suck at tap." The girl next to you said as you were putting on your shoes. 

"I'm surprised I didn't get cut from the last part. I'm not that great at ballet, but I'm pretty good at tap. I don't want to sound like I'm bragging though." You reply.

"It's all good. I'm the exact opposite; great at ballet, terrible at tap. The only reason I considered the audition after I learned there was tap in it was that Mr. Hemmings was teaching the class. I'm Reagan by the way." 

"Y/N. What's so great about Mr. Hemmings?"

"First of all, he's super hot. Second, he's an awesome teacher. If anybody can teach a tap class, it's him."

"Alright then. Good luck to you. I'm sure you're not as terrible as you say you are."

"Thanks. Good luck to you too."

"Ladies," Mr. Hemmings announces as he walks onto the floor. "Our warmup will consist of 16 shuffles front, side, back, both feet. Then we will do falaps in the same pattern, followed by some steps across the floor. 16 shuffles. A five, six, seven, eight. 

The competition seemed to die down once you started to go across the floor. It quickly became apparent that tap was not the strong suit of many of the dancers. Flutters were what seemed to get people. The syncopated pull back was not the easiest move, but you had mastered the step at a younger age, allowing you to get ahead of the game. 

Not long later it was time for the combination. Learning a new combination was never an easy feat, but you had been able to learn how to pick them up with ease compared to most of the girls. Once you were sure you knew it, you made your way to the center of the front line and prepared to show off your skills. 

It was the middle of the combo when an overconfident dancer decided to get all up in your space and run into you, messing you up. You tried your best to fake it, because once you mess up one step it ruins the rest of the combo. 

After another cut the audition consisted of you and six others girls. The competition was heavy. You could all do ballet, tap, and jazz. The girl who had ran into you was cut after the tap section, while you thankfully managed to not get cut.

"Thank you ladies for your time. We will be in contact with you regarding our decisions of scholarships within the next five days." 

After you had thanked the instructors and gotten your things together, you went back to talk to them to search for areas of improvement. Most of them seemed impressed with your ability and ethic. Especially Luke.

"Ms. Y/L/N, I was quite impressed by your tap audition. I would say some of your steps in the combination could have been cleaner and you should learn how to be a more 'defensive dancer'. I was impressed on how you were able to keep dancing after being run into, but you should work on learning how to avoid incidents like that when you see them coming. Overall, you were an excellent tapper and I was quite impressed with you." He says.

"Thank you Mr. Hemmings." 

You walked out of that audition the most confident you had ever felt. When you received the call that you had been picked for a full scholarship you were beyond ecstatic. You were even happier when you came to the intensive and found out that Luke would be teaching classes, as well as some privates to dancers who had received full scholarships. 

Luke helped you out with defensive dancing and your tap. After talking for a bit, you found that you had similar interest, and quickly developed a great friendship. 

Calum

"Calum I have super exciting news!" You yell as you walk into your house, putting down your dance bag and grabbing an orange, tired from a long day at the studio. 

"What is it?" Calum asks, laughing at how quickly you were scarfing down the orange. 

"Stop laughing at me. I've been dancing and haven't eaten for six hours." You say, pretending to but mad.

"I'm sorry." He replies sassily as he tosses you another orange.

"Thanks. Anyways, I got an email from a company today. You remember that company I auditioned for a few weeks ago? They want me to be the Russian lead in their Nutcracker this Christmas!"

"Oh my goodness babe! That's amazing! Congratulations!" 

He pulls you into a hug picking you up and spins you around, smiling at how you laughed as he did so.  

"When do you go? How long are you going to be gone?"

"This is the not so great part . . ." You start, dreading having to tell this part of the story. "I would have to leave in September to start rehearsals and I'll tour until December 23. I would get home around midnight on the 26th."

"Y/N, that's a really long time." Calum replies, the smile dropping from his face. "I don't want you to go."

"Calum, I understand that it's a while for me to be gone, but this is the opportunity of a lifetime for me. It's been my dream to have this lead since I was ten. I always got overlooked growing up and now that I'm a professional I finally have a chance to live that dream. You go on even longer tours all the time. If you have all sorts of opportunities to live your dream all the time, so should I."

"That's different, it's my job to tour. If I don't tour, we lose fans. I can't just not tour. You, on the other hand, can stay at home and preform with this company within the same state. As soon as you would get home from this I'm going on a six month tour."

"That's my point. You get to go on tours, why can't I leave the state for my career? I've never been asked to dance as a guest for another company. This is big for me. Why can't you just be happy for me and consider it?"

"It's your job to stay home and take care of things back here, not mine." 

"You did not just say that Calum Hood." You glare at him. Your husband was not one to stop you from your job, especially not saying something as sexist as his previous statement. 

"I think I just did. You're not doing that Nutcracker and that's final." 

"I can't believe you think your so-called 'final decision' is going to determine if I'm going or not. I'm going whether or not you want me to. I'm going to go take a walk and think about my decision. I'll be back in two hours. If I'm not call me." You say as you walk outside and slam the door. It was then when you made the decision to go to the studio and think it over.

Putting on some Nutcracker music always seemed to stress you out, but right now it was the only thing that you could think about. After dancing around for a bit, you realized the circumstances of the situation. If you were gone for three months and then Calum six, there would be nine months of not seeing each other. Sure, Calum was being a douchebag by demanding that you not go, but you were being pretty bitchy to him too. After some more dancing and a ton of though, you made the decision to not take the job. Admitting you were wrong about this to Calum would be tough, but it was the most logical decision. In all of the fighting, you had forgotten to tell Calum the other good news, that you were pregnant. Logically speaking, you couldn't dance a show if you were pregnant. 

~

"Cal, I'm sorry. I've decided to not go." You tell him as you sit next to him on the couch. "I can't go nine months without seeing you just for some stupid role I'll get the chance to do someday in the future." 

"No babe. I was wrong. I shouldn't stop you from living your dream just because I don't want you gone that long. It's not my decision what you do with your career and you shouldn't feel guilty about my feelings because this is what you want to do. If you really want to do this, you should go." Calum replies, scooting closer to you to put his arm around you.

"But Cal-"

"No buts. It's your job, so it's your decision. Don't let me tell you what to do with your dream."

"No Cal, I can't take the job." 

"Why not?"

"As much as I want Russian lead, I'm pregnant. I can't dance with a baby bump."

Calum stared at you shocked for a moment before he spoke. 

"You're pregnant?" 

"Yeah. In seven and a half months we'll have a little baby Hood joining us." You smile.

"I'm sorry you have to give up this opportunity for this, but this is the awesome!" He shouts as he pulls you in for a giant hug.

"I'm kinda sad about the whole 'giving up my dream' thing, but I'm pretty happy about this."

 Michael 

Sure, the blisters were pretty painful, but nothing could stop your excitement as you began your solo. As long as you put on some Second Skin and toe tape you could block out the pain of your pointe shoes. Besides, nothing could stop you from jumping as high and dancing as hard as you could for the audience. 

Every show was different. By the time your solo started, you were able to figure out the audience and how to dance so that they would have a good reaction towards it. Some nights were harder than others. Injuries were common among dancers and you were often thrown into a new dance in their place thirty minutes before the show started when someone went down. For example, Bailey, the original dancer of this solo, had severely sprained her ankle in class before the show and you were asked to fill in. It wasn't too bad, considering the fact that you were allowed to improve for the parts you didn't know.

Everything seemed to be going great. Michael was in the crowd, you were living in the music, and the crowd was great that night, meaning you would most likely get a standing ovation at the end of the show. Every once and a while you had to maneuver your foot in a strange way to avoid worsening your blisters and the pain that accompanied it, which probably wasn't the best idea. But that didn't matter, as long as you didn't get hurt. 

Just because of how responsive the audience was, you decided to do a bunch of foette turns to end the dance. After about 16, you started to lose your footing. On your 19th, you tried to go on pointe, and ended up rolling your ankle and landing on your knee really hard, causing immediate pain to roll through the left side of your body. A collective gasp went through the audience as you got up and smiled through the pain, curtsying as the song ended, and limping of stage. As soon as you had cleared the wings you collapsed on the floor, tears of pain streaming down you face at a rapid pace. There were only a few people around you, the others either on stage or keeping their distance to not overcrowd you. Everyone was asking questions, picking you up to get out of the way of everyone else and get some ice for your foot. 

"What happened?" Kept being asked, not allowing you to answer as you tried to stop the tears. The pain only worsened as someone tried to untie your pointe show and take it off. 

"We need to get her to the doctor." Said Shawn, one of your partners in a dance. "Y/N, you need to get out of this tutu. Kaitlyn, can you grab her clothes and basket?"

People were running all around the small backstage area, either trying to get something for you or get around you. After all, the show must go on.

Kaitlyn came back up with your things, helping you change and get you in her car to drive you to the hospital. She had to go on stage with Shawn for a pas de duex but they had decided to have her drive you and Shawn would just have to do it as a solo. 

"Hey Michael . . ." Kaitlyn started as she called Michael. "So you probably saw Y/N kinda hurt herself on stage. I'm driving her to the hospital right now. As soon as you get the chance I would advise you to stop by the hospital."

"I'm leaving now. What did she do?" Michael asked, starting to worry a lot more, if that was even possible. 

"Well, from what we can tell, a sprained ankle and what is hopefully a bruised knee."

"Hopefully!?"

"It could be fractured. That would be even worse. We can only hope that it's severely bruised."

"Fine. I'll be there in as soon as possible. Tell Y/N I love her." 

"I will."

~

"How long are you gonna be out?" Michael asked, holding your hand as you were having your ankle wrapped.

"At least three weeks before I can go back full time. Getting back on pointe is going to take some time though." You sigh, 

"I'm sorry babe. I'll take care of you 'till then." 

"Thanks babe. You're the best."

"I guess I am."

Ashton

"Ashton, you and Y/N need to work on that shoulder sit some more. The show's in two days. You two need to get it together. I don't care what you have to do, even if the position is terrible, keep her up there." Your director and choreographer, Gary, says, giving out corrections after the first run through of the show for the day. 

"Yes sir." You both respond, walking to the other side of the room to work on the lift, yet again. It wasn't that Ashton was a bad partner, it was just that he was still learning how to do some lifts, shoulder sits being one of them. 

"Alright, ready?" You ask him, ready to work on it for what felt like the 500th time. 

"I guess so." He sighs, getting in position to grab your sides and lift you up.

You ran a circle around him before steeping in front of him, jumping so that he could lift you. As usual, you were able to make it work. The problem was that you could do it right on the spot, but anytime you would do it during the dance it failed. 

After Gary had finished giving corrections, he came over to the two of you. It was obvious that he was upset. The show was in two days and his leading students couldn't get a simple lift right. 

"Ashton, Y/N," He starts, giving you both an annoyed look. "I see that you can do the lift now, but during the dance, it doesn't seem to happen. What's going on?" 

"I honestly don't know. It's probably just being really tired by the end of the dance." Ashton replies, looking at the ground in shame. 

"No excuses. You will run it back to back until you can get it at least two times in a row, preferably three."

"Yes sir." 

Running that dance back to back was no easy feat, as it was five minutes long. You were constantly running, jumping or turning. It was fast paced and you never stopped moving. Long story short, you stayed three hours later than everyone else, not leaving until 1:30 that morning. 

"Okay, I know it's 1:30 in the morning and you're probably really tired, but you look like you need a milkshake. I'm taking you to McDonalds and I'm buying you a milkshake." Ashton says as you lock up the studio, as Gary had left around 11:00. 

"I am really tired, but I can't say no to a milkshake right now." You giggle, placing the key in your bag and heading towards your car. 

"Here, just come in my car. I'll drive you back here afterwards. I'll even buy you a whole meal if that helps change your mind."

"Alright. I'm only giving in cause I'm starving." You tease, laughing when both your stomachs grumble. 

"Well, get in pretty lady." Ashton teases back, getting in his rinky-dink car and driving to the nearest McDonalds.

On the way to the restaurant you talked about college; your classes, upcoming rehearsals, and life in general. 

"It's funny how we're dancers and we're supposed to be watching our diets, yet we're going to McDonalds at 1:30 in the morning." Ashton comments as he pulls into a parking spot.

"I honestly don't care anymore. I just want my milkshake." You reply, grabbing your wallet out of your dance bag.

"Nope. Meal's on me." He says, swatting the wallet out your hand.

"Alright Mr. Charming. You can pay for it."

~

"Thanks for this." You say as Ashton drops you back off at the studio so you could get your car and go back to your dorm. 

"Anytime. I had fun tonight, or morning. Whatever it is now."

"I had fun too. We should do this again sometime, under better circumstances of course."

"What do you mean? 1:30 in the morning is the best time to do these kind of things."

"True. Maybe next time we could go out at a more reasonable time. Like at dinner time, as a date." You mutter out nervously, hoping you hadn't over stepped the boundaries of your friendship by doing so. 

"Yeah, I'd like that." He replies shyly, scratching the back of his neck.

"Then it's a date." You smile. "Bye Ash. See you Saturday."

"Bye Y/N. I'll pick you up at 6:00 on Saturday." 

[journeysintowebcomics]

Homestuck Liveblog #182

UPDATE 182: Nothing Goes According to Plan

Last time the epilogues had started. First the meat route! Featuring John going to fight Lord English with many teenage versions of his friends, and Dave and Karkaroni launching their candidacy for president to stop Jane from getting there. Let’s continue.

Wherever John just zapped everyone to is very dark. Given the final destination likely is the place where they’ll fight Lord English, this would be inside one of the bubbles, no? I don’t remember them being particularly dark or dreary, so maybe they’re in the space between the bubbles instead. Shouldn’t be too difficult to find the one with Lord English, just look for the one with the destructive light show.

Apparently they arrived very early. It’s Caliborn, Gamzee and that robot rabbit. Hm. Perhaps this is when they went to fight Caliborn according to the clay theater show?

Lord English is holding something that looks like... Lil Cal? It’s definitely Lil Cal, and Lord English is definitely waltzing around with it in his little spotlight in the middle of the nowhere, swinging the puppet around by both its floppy arms. Well, rather, he was waltzing around. He stopped the moment you looked at him.

...okay then, of all things for Caliborn to be doing, dancing the waltz with the puppet wasn’t really one of them. Consider me surprised, story.

John and Caliborn do a staredown that’d have filled like eighteen pages of Homestuck, and John gives him a thumbs-down. Caliborn takes umbrage with that, although it’s just for a little while, before laughing and deciding this really was the moment represented by the clay theater thing. So, if I recall correctly, that ended with the Original Wonderkids being trapped in the juju, and Dirk shoving Caliborn and the red sprite whose name I don’t remember into the puppet. Foregone conclusion?

CALIBORN: BE QUIET.

CALIBORN: I’LL HAVE YOU KNOW THAT YOU JUST INTERRUPTED A GROUNDBREAKING INTERPRETIVE ART PIECE.

CALIBORN: IT WAS THE FIRST OF ITS KIND. PERFORMED ONLY ONCE. AND MADE MORE VALUABLE FOR ITS RARENESS.

JOHN: wow.

Yes, John, the guy who will destroy existence and also ruin everything still is a dork. Surprise?

Caliborn seems very confident everything will go according to plan and maybe he has reasons to believe that. I mean, it has to, for this to not be a paradox and doom everybody in the process. And yup! Effectively, the ninth page is all about how the heroes lost and got trapped in the juju. It didn’t go all according to the claymation theater because there were some minor and unimportant deviations, but it ended with their loss. I do wonder if we’ll see what happened after they got trapped, though. Kind of doubt it, given this is from John’s point of view.

Nope, it’s Jane. Alright, time to see what’s going on with her and how accurate Dave and Karkaroni’s assessment of her is.

So, I have read several paragraphs now. I can definitely see why those two would say that, and although it wasn’t as bad as it could have been, I do sense a constant and unsettling ‘I know better than everyone’ vibe over all this. Then there’s the matter of word choice:

In fact, Jane is pretty sure that Karkat Vantas would probably literally burst into flame if too many people happened to look at him at the same time, like a vampire walking out into the sun.

Wait. Jane lowers the pillow from her face and stares at her brass-and-glass art deco ceiling. Was that vampire thing xenophobic against Kanaya? Or whatever it was that Kanaya was supposed to be? No, of course not, she assures herself.

---

And despite being inarguably the dimmest of his family’s impressive ecto-biological stock...

Oh, dear. Stock. That’s likely a problematic word, isn’t it? Jane thinks. She crosses it off her mental list of “appropriate words to say during a press conference.”

----

And the consorts? Who had even given them the right to vote in the first place?

----

But Earth C’s paper-thin idyllic history was very close to a boiling point—its very first boiling point, in fact, which will have everything to do with the problematic nature of troll reproduction. The first generation of natural-born trolls obviously cannot be entrusted to a troll.

Which was absolutely not a xenophobic thing to think. It was just realistic. The citizens of Earth C were able to rest easy knowing that the government held careful rein over the... well, over matters of equity.

All that? It’s not outright awful, but it’s enough to leave a nasty aftertaste when you think about it for a moment. Can’t say I know how anything’s supposed to work in the so-called idyllic society of Earth C, or what kind of intricate social problems exist, so I can’t really comment about most of this without making a loooooot of assumptions that are a burden to deal with, but all this about controlling troll reproduction is an uncomfortable callback to the Condesce’s efforts to control human reproduction and mold it to her tastes. I doubt Jane would go that far, but it still is too much of a similarity to it. When I said last update she totally was the Condesce’s descendant it was a joke, not a wish for this, golly.

That aside, in all this I have the impression Hussie isn’t walking the walk, or whatever the colloquial saying goes. I don’t know why exactly he decided to go in this direction with the character, but to me it feels like he’s both trying to push in that direction and try to keep Jane similar to how she was in Homestuck. It’s just a few paragraphs and she hasn’t even said a word to another character, but to me it feels like he’s not committing to the characterization he’s trying to make here. You can’t do both at the same time, seriously. Maybe it’d work if it was an entirely new character instead of an existing character – and by Jove this story doesn’t need new characters, that’s for sure – but yeah, right now? All this with Jane? It’s...not really working for me. It feels kind of clunky.

I definitely can see why I heard people were unsatisfied with the epilogue, though! A character being given unsavory traits and inclinations it didn’t have before must have been an unwelcome shock.

Welp! Time to call Jake! I suppose she’ll try to get his political endorsement thanks to the major political capital he now has. Let’s see if it works!

JAKE: Ahoy ahoy!

Jane has to suck in a hard breath to stop herself from groaning. Why were so many of the finest young minds on this planet slaves to this foolish man’s perky glutes?

Can Jake be treated as more than a one-dimensional character with an ass jutting out? Would be great.

Apparently getting shot with horse tranquilizers is how the shows have been ending for a while already. No wonder there are riots every time, so much for the underdog victory in that show. Still, it’s working, because he’s adored by everyone. Jake sounds like he’s okay with this, but really, he must have a breaking point. You can get shot with horse tranquilizers only so many times before you demand it to stop.

JAKE: Its beginning to feel like all people want from me is to stick my derriere on a signpost for their own profit.

Funny you’d say that, given how much it’s been featuring in this epilogue.

Jake isn’t really the brightest bulb, but he’s not so dense he wouldn’t notice this, yup. Maybe he’d be relieved to know Dave and Karkaroni want him to wink and give double pistols at the camera instead of showing his butt on a billboard. If that’s what makes Jake support them over Jane I’ll laugh and also feel pretty bad for him.

In all this, Jane invites Jake to see her, saying she’s ready to give him what’s best for him. That’s...pretty manipulative, knowing what she wants. Still, she managed to convince him to go see her, so that’s that. I don’t think this meeting will go like she wants to, so I’m kind of dreading it. Next page!

Apparently John never considered the possibility they’d lose against Caliborn. I mean, it’s hard to imagine you’d get trapped into a juju that’s essential a complete void in the universe, but still! He says he screwed up, and praises Rose. Looks like John is alone in the space he’s in, while the rest of the Wonderkids are in their own little pockets of nothingness not too far away. Inside this juju they can’t feel time or space, which is...good? Means they’re not going to die, at least. Dave and Jade are powerless. Can Rose use her seer powers?

ROSE: What did my future self say it was we had to do?

JOHN: erm... she never rea—

DAVE: WHAT?

JOHN: she—

DAVE: I CANT HEAR YOU

JOHN: UM, SHE NEVER REALLY TOLD US WHAT WE HAD TO DO, EXACTLY?

JOHN: JUST WHAT WAS GOING TO HAPPEN, IN A REALLY LOOSE SORT OF FASHION?

ROSE: DOES THAT MEAN WE’RE STU—

What does it say of me I thought she was going to say ‘stupid’. For charging ahead without getting as many details as possible of what future Rose said, I guess. Maybe it’d have been less of a shock when this happened.

Apparently what future Rose foresaw is that they would be trapped in the juju and then freed in the future. Sounds about right, I think that was implied to happen in Act 7. So it’s only matter of time before they’re freed, although, knowing who wrote this, I wouldn’t be surprised if the rest of the fight against Lord English is just shunted aside with a vague description of how it went. Hah!

From what John can imagine, the battle outside is going just like the claymation theater had predicted. By now Caliborn must be getting shoved into the puppet and thrown into the fabric of the multiverse, to doom everyone. You know, now that I think about it, how are the New Wonderkids going to leave wherever they are right now? Without John they’re kind of stuck. Whooops.

It doesn’t sound like Terezi is in the new world. Either she isn’t or she completely cut contact from the rest, because John misses her. I figure he’d at least know what she’s up to, if she were around. Hm.

She wouldn’t have let you neglect relationships with certain friends for so long that you missed whole chapters of their lives. She wouldn’t have put up with you moping around with the salamanders for so long. She would have kicked your ass for being such a loser about everything. She would have poked you in the forehead and called you insufferably lame and told you to pick up the damn phone. You would have called her a weirdo and pretended you hated it, and maybe you would even have believed you hated it. But now, sitting here in this little white cubicle, contemplating your regrets, you don’t think you’d have hated it much at all.

Definitely sounds like she isn’t around. I can’t remember what happened with her in Homestuck...maybe something in these epilogues will answer that?

Also, it’s possible John is depressed. It’s not impossible, really! It’d be surprising if after the events of Sburb and its very traumatic qualities they’re not affected in some manner. Some seemed to be better-adjusted, somehow, but it’s not out of the question others have been affected negatively. Maybe John is depressed. Nothing to do in this juju than tell the rest about that, I suppose.

It’s strategy meeting time right there at Karkaroni’s hive. Dave is in charge of everything, outlining their strategy and what the consequences of Jane’s reign of terror will be. Most of it goes over my head, I admit, thanks to Dave’s verbose way of talking, and Karkaroni and Jade don’t seem to be faring much better.

DAVE: are you two even listening or are you just making noises with your mouths

KARKAT: HOW DARE YOU.

KARKAT: I CAN’T BELIEVE I’M BEING ACCUSED BY DAVE STRIDER, REIGNING EMPEROR OF SPEWING ENDLESS VERBAL DIARRHEA DIRECTLY INTO MY INNOCENT HEAR DUCTS EVERY DAY OF MY FUCKING LIFE, OF MAKING THOUGHTLESS MOUTH NOISES.

KARKAT: JADE, ARE YOU HEARING THIS?

JADE: im scandalized

JADE: especially when

JADE: there are much better things we could all be doing with our mouths.....

...

...

...

...did I mention already I have heard so much dissatisfaction about the epilogues? I didn’t get many details back then, but I definitely am realizing why I heard those opinions all the time. What’s wrong with you, Jade. Nobody else knows how to react, so Dave just continues his strategy meeting.

From what I can gather here, Dave’s opinion is that Jane will capitalize on the very violent and very disturbing features of troll life back in Alternia, and boy is there plenty of that. The average person would be incredibly fearful of a repeat of any of that, especially if the Condesce is brought up. Really, in terms of humans, I’m preeeeetty sure Jane has their vote, no contest. Can’t say I wouldn’t vote for her if I was told about the brutality of troll life and the effects it’d have on us. It’s all about how it’s presented, and Jane would definitely present it at its most raw.

Jade gives an overview of the consequences of the Jane presidency in a manner that stuns our dear underdogs here, and also dog hormones are mentioned. Are you telling me that in the fusion Jade was somehow implanted with her dog’s endocrine system? Was that a thing? Because if she wasn’t then this doesn’t make sense at all, unless somehow her dog ears and tail are secreting hormones. It’s illogical. Not that Jade being fused with her supernatural omnipotent dogsprite is incredibly logical.

You know, when I started reading the epilogues I didn’t really expect to be reading about Jade’s polyamorous urges. I don’t want to read about Jade’s polyamorous urges. Let me just...skip this until the topic changes.

I can’t believe that took the rest of the page, and that’s not a joke-y ‘I can’t believe’. Well then. Next.

Oh, great, it’s Vriska. You know, I like Vriska enough, buuuuut her influence in the narration was never really something I liked of her. Guess I’ll have to endure that, then. The narration starts with reminding she still has quite the hero delusions. Peachy! Off to kind of a bad start. Still, what’s important is that she’s facing Lord English and she has just deployed the juju that’s hosting the Wonderkids, so this really is picking up from Act 7. I didn’t think this would be happening yet here we are. Nice!

Now that the juju has been deployed, the majority of those present – Meenah, Tavros and a myriad of unnamed ghosts – should be retreating, but Vriska wants to see how Lord English destroys reality, which he does with just a roar, sending literal pieces of reality crashing down and bonking Vriska on the head. Above her, a black hole is forming, consuming reality itself. It’s so strong that, without Tavros to anchor her, she’s lifted off the ground and sucked towards it. She’s unable to hold onto the juju or onto anything, and disappears into the black hole.

Well that was quite the random aside, but that’s how Homestuck is.

John and the rest emerge from the juju, just in time to see the huge and realize things are falling apart. There’s nothing about Lord English being nearby, so maybe he was absorbed into the black hole as well? Not much time to wonder about that, because reality unravels.

In Jane’s office reality isn’t unraveling, though, what’s unraveling is her patience, because Jake doesn’t figure out entering through the door is what anyone would do, instead of entering through the window from what’s likely not a ground floor office. Once he enters like any person without powers would do, Jane receives him.

And intimate knowledge of his hoarding habits—particularly the type of sultry, cerulean content he is known to hoard—is exactly why Jane is wearing a blue dress with a very high hem. Jake’s bow tie practically spins at the sight of it.

Thaaaaat’s also manipulative. Clever and it most likely will work, but it’s manipulative. I’m still having a hard time trying to associate this with Jane, honestly.

Well she tries to seduce him, which, knowing how hard of a time she was having enduring her romantic trouble in Homestuck, is darkly hilarious, especially when it fails completely because she’s not good at this. All Jake can do is spit bourbon at her. After that little stunt she’ll need to have incredible patience not to kick him out immediately, but the political capital must be really worth it.

Although she’s clearly very frustrated, she still plows ahead and starts talking about the economy, trying to get Jake up to date with the intricacies of what’s going on. He doesn’t know anything at all, so she has to explain to him everything. She still seems to be kind of aiming to seducing Jake, though. Sigh.

Who are they now? The same Jake and Jane who passed like particularly dysfunctional ships in the night a decade ago? Or is Jane wiser, and Jake kinder? Are they better versions of themselves?

Well it sure wasn’t the other way, Jane sure didn’t get kinder and Jake wiser. That much was very clear just from this update.

I’m not entirely sure if her reminiscing about how they may be all drifting apart and how the trajectory all of their lives have taken is fake – part of me believes it may be sincere, after all – but what I’m sure of is that she doesn’t miss Jake. She makes sure to say she does, though! And he reciprocates. This leads to a lot of kissing. This sure escalated fast! And on Jane’s favor, dare I say. It was a complete accident, but it’s going pretty close to what she had intended.

Or not, because through all this Jake keeps thinking of Dirk and his abysmally romantic attributes. Boy, if Jane heard about this she’d be even more frustrated. But yeah, pretty clear Jake hasn’t gotten over Dirk no matter what. Seems to me like he’s doomed to think of Dirk for quite a while. He realizes that in a flash of inspiration and yelps in panic, deciding to scram and ending Jane’s underhanded romantic overtures. That went pretty badly!

JANE: What the...

JANE: Everliving fuck!

It really is for the better she’s not aware what was going through Jake’s mind, hah! She even calls Dirk to talk about what happened. He’s not understanding, he simply states you can’t be nice to Jake if you want him to be interested in you, and pretty much tells Jane to stay on her line and stop trying to play romance with Jake because that’s his turf. Paraphrasing. This is starting to seem more and more like Jake won’t throw his hat in their ring, in my opinion.

She’s also looking emotional support, and she’s not getting it from Dirk because she has other things to deal with, more important than the election of president of the entire planet. Rose is here, and given how they have a mutual problem, they have to talk about it. But that’s for next time!

[elane-in-the-shadows]

Red Queen Fan Fiction - Blood Curse part 12

Find this on wattpad

chapter 1

chapter 2

chapter 3

chapter 4

chapter 5

chapter 6

chapter 7

chapter 8

chapter 9

chapter 10

chapter 11

chapter 12

chapter 13

chapter 14

chapter 15

chapter 16

chapter 17

chapter 18

chapter 19

chapter 20

chapter 21

chapter 22

chapter 23

chapter 24

chapter 25

chapter 26

chapter 27

chapter 28

chapter 29

Final chapter

Gisa POV

Cameron looks cute with her hair open, positively pretty, and I tell her so. She laughs, slightly embarrassed but also … something else. She lowers her eyes to face me, excitingly slow. She smirks after a breathless second and I do the same, hoping to convey the message, “I like you,” without voicing it.

Maybe I should. Clear words can be such a relief. But I just lay my hand over hers and the way she avoids glancing at them although she’s obviously touched in more than one way says a lot. Rejoice prickles inside of me.

“Though it gets annoying after a few days,” Cameron says, tugging at a curl. “Especially when, you know … “ She sighs deeply.

My mood drops from soaring to crawling. Her smile vanishes and familiar feelings wash over us; finality for her, dread for me. She’ll go back to fighting, like too many of my family.

“Hey. Gisa,” she nudges me and I startle. Her expression softens again. “I’m not – well. They asked us who’d go to New Town and I volunteered. I can see my parents again and do something for the other techies.”

I step away, my eyes turned to the ground. I shouldn’t sulk like this, and when Cameron touches my shoulder, I feel even more embarrassed and selfish.

“I’m sorry to leave you alone again, so soon after,” Cameron says. I nod. Of course, she does as she must.

“Good luck,” I wish her; she hesitates to reply. I don’t wait and simply hug her. She’s surprised but embraces me back after a second. “You’ll come back,” I demand.

“For sure,” she whispers into my hair. “You got to meet my family after all.”

Heat rises in my cheeks, warring with suppressed tears. “Oh,” I say, “oh.”

Cameron clears her throat, it has been a slip. I look up into her face. “I didn’t know we’ve come that far already,” I say. “But I’m glad?”

Her smile emerges slowly but it’s certainly beaming. “Me too. And you know, Rafe comes with me, because an electricon in New Town? Assured to create a mess.”

I pull away a bit, rise to my toes, and kiss her cheek. “Or sure to bring you a quick victory.”

“Right,” she agrees, then hugs me again.

As if the general mood on the base hasn’t been serious enough, the returnees from Corvium and the – hopefully decisive – battles looming ahead turn it positively grave. Everyone trains harder, most of all Mare. Not only her ability but her body as well, and she even eats more to build more muscles. Tramy, Bree and Diana advise her on this, as they occupy each other with more planning and discussions. Meanwhile I stick to Kilorn, Cameron, and her brother Morrey. Sometimes I accompany Lacey again, but with Diana’s return, her restrictions seem to have lessened, allowing her to become more involved. Tramy doesn’t bring her to our house anymore but doesn’t meet her less often as far as I notice. He’s as in love as before, if I interpret his glances and expressions right. And our eyes meet frequently when the family sits together.

Each of us copes in their own ways. In the evenings, Diana visits with Clara when she has the time. Dad enters Bree’s and Mare’s war talks while he avoids the certain royal topic carefully. Everyone does this around Mare, maybe apart from Mom, Kilorn and Diana in more private conversations. Thus, Mom fusses on the whole family, similar to before, Dad supports her, Bree and Tramy tell stories, Mare tries to fit in and I keep my hands busy and watch; taking Kilorn’s advice to crack jokes to lighten the mood, although not with as savage ones as his.

I live well with the illusion, it’s helpful, and nice, to feel joy and relatedness every now and then. Although I can’t look at Clara without thinking that Shade’s not here to dote on her with pride or that Mare’s lost any light-heartedness she ever had.

Every night I expect her to approach me, to hug me, to start crying. But she doesn’t. She’d learned to sleep alone, she claimed the first night after her return. I offered to listen to and help her, in awkward words, which I repeat sometimes – but I don’t ask her about it. I never know what to do besides stating my readiness.

Until Mare starts to talk by herself while I’ve no idea what’s made the difference. I can’t ponder on that. “The worst thing,” she begins, “is that I know Tiberias truly loves me. Yet he did that, and it’s like he never really knew me. While the same applies to me, doesn’t it? I believed he wouldn’t go back to his throne, so did I ever fully know him?”

The words fill our room with a gloomy heaviness, so my lack of an answer doesn’t become disturbing. Even though I feel like I have to say something to comfort her, I can only move closer to her, careful and inch by inch, until she leans against me, with a pillow in her arms.

“I hate the lies, the illusions,” she mumbles. “But I have to go on with them, until … “

“You don’t have to,” I blurt out; fortunately, Mare isn’t bothered. She inclines her head but doesn’t agree. Of course not.

“Maybe you should talk to Kilorn again, because I’m so bad at comforting you,” I say.

It startles her. “Gisa, you said nothing wrong!”

I wave off. “Believe me, he’s a true master, compared to me. But you know that, don’t you? I tried so often to … provoke him into a, umm …” Mare stares at me curiously. “But well, he never exploited the situation – to my chagrin.”

Mare sneers. “I’d hope so, anything else would’ve made him a scoundrel.”

“Oh, he’d never. Not that I care anymore … “ I sigh.

“You don’t?” The corners of her mouth twitch. What luck.

“No, as I … might like someone else now,” I tell her, suddenly eager to lift the secret.

“Do I know – “

“Her? Yes, it’s Cameron.” Her amusement, built up so carefully, dims for a moment.

“She’ll go to her family soon, to stir unrest in New Town,” she explains like I don’t know this already.

“For sure.” I shrug. “And Rafe goes with her.”

“Then I’ll be the only eletricon here.” Mare looks away. “And sooner or later, I’ll leave as well.”

I take a sharp breath. “When?”

She shrugs, I wait. “Difficult to say. ‘Timing is essential,’ Farley claims all the time” She turns it into a silly impersonation but she’s never been good at telling jokes. I laugh anyway. 

The next days are stressful and busy, hardly offering a calm time before the storm. While Cameron, Rafe and a handful more Newbloods and operatives develop a course of action for New Town, another regiment prepares to accompany Volo Samos on his campaign against the Lakelands. Unlike the usual skirmishes, forages and sparring fights, this hits me harder and unforeseen, reminding me of the war that’s already come. I start to pester Diana about it, to reassure myself through information. It unsettles her at first, she hesitates to talk about it. Although neither mission is a secret here. For some reasons, she agreed to the Samos cooperation quickly, and it’s only volunteers who are sent to the Rift. They’re mostly Lakelanders, with her father among them.

“So, what do you think about the book?” I add one time.

She frowns as she figures out my meaning. What a terrible operative I’d make. Despite my initial resolve, I’ve procrastinated asking her about the old logbook from Monfort eternally. I don’t believe Lacey hid it from her. But thousands of Silvers killed on purpose by the spreading diseases is disturbing to imagine. Was that a good deed? Or wrong? How would a Silver like Lacey judge this –

Diana hushes me before I explain myself in the middle of the street. “Lacey Ventos is a good operative,” she says. “Well-connected, quite committed.” You needn’t doubt her, she leaves unsaid. As well as, unlike others.

“Her friends at Maven’s court are a main asset for us, bleeding intelligence to us even the twins can’t find.” Diana chews on her lips as if this intelligence is something gnawing on her. “Gisa,” she adds, “this book that you two found is very valuable. Just wish we could use its information on greater scale…”

“Diana?” I tilt my head in surprise.

“Well, we won’t do the same thing, of course. But we can compare the political developments in Monfort and project them on Norta and work out whether Monfort tells us everything. By now I’m almost certain the current Monfort government had nothing to do with this. It was more than twenty years ago. For example, Davidson was still in Norta at the time it happened.”

“And do you trust him?” I ask.

She cocks her head. “What do you want to know about him?”

“Just curious. You’re usually relying on yourself the most.”

She cackles. “You aren’t wrong,” she admits. “But difficult times demand difficult measures.”

Cameron and I steal away the last evening before she leaves and I help her re-braiding her hair. A storm rages outside, the sky burning bright with jade and amethyst lightning. It’s Mare and Rafe calling forth that storm for a last time, because they’re stronger together. They turn the sky into a loud and feral beast that obeys them, reminding me and everyone else of the storms of war to come. In a moment when their lightning illuminates the room, Cameron and I share our first kiss.

More weeks pass while Diana continues to wait for the right timing. It frustrates Mare who trains harder still, until she commands the storms as well as the small electrical gadgets in our house. Sometimes I can feel her invisible current buzzing on my skin. Stupid static electricity. Yet the training leaves her too tired to do much else. She likes the distraction, since from what I’ve put together, her next battle will be alongside Cal – who she calls Tiberias now – probably against King Maven himself.

Diana leads several smaller missions and skirmishes in the meantime, sometimes with my brothers or Kilorn coming with her. Mom always scolds her when she comes back and Diana merely listens calmly, yet resolved. But I notice the letters she gives to Dad for safekeeping before she sets out every time. “They’re for Clara,” he tells me after I’ve asked for the fifth time.

The Piedmont fall arrives beautifully although hardly anyone can spare time to contemplate or admire it. Not even me, usually quickly entranced by rich colours. Nature is nothing compared to hearing from Cameron or the soldiers fighting in the Lakelands, or seeing my family remaining safe.

We’re together on the first anniversary of Shade’s death, with all of us in tears sooner or later. The sad date is followed by Clara’s half-birthday which we celebrate two days before Mare’s 19th one.

The two parties are needed as a goodbye, since the period of waiting finally ends. While Diana heads into her own direction with strong determination, Mare and the majority of the Newbloods and the Guard’s forces are called to enter a full-scale attack on Archeon.

 @clarafarleybarrow @calliopexclio @mareshmallow @lilyharvord @inopinion @redqueenfandom @ssingerqueen @spookysamos @hannaharies @runexandra @iris-cygnets @breebarrcw @red-queen-united @asewhj @redqueenforever @calmareforever

[schraubd]

I'm Sick of Smug-Takes on Berkeley Offering "Counseling"

Former Breitbart editor Ben Shapiro is coming to campus this week. Shapiro will be followed this month by Ann Coulter, Steve Bannon, and Milo Yiannopoulos, as part of a Berkeley "free speech week". In a long email outlining the various campus policies that would be in place to facilitate all these speeches (and as I've consistently argued, having been invited by authorized community members they do have a right to speak free of censorship or material disruption, though of course not from non-intrusive protest or criticism), Executive Vice Chancellor Paul Alivisatos mentioned that, among other things, counseling services were available for any students who felt "threatened or harassed simply because of who they are or for what they believe." And the internet went wild. I don't need to collect links -- here's an example, but they're not hard to find. Across the entire political spectrum of the mainstream media -- you know, center-left to hard-right -- there was near-uniform glee in dumping on coddling Berkeley administrators and infantile Berkeley students who need counseling just because they're hearing "ideas they disagree with." I cannot tell you how sick I am of hearing this. It's lazy, it's a cheap shot, it's intellectually incoherent, and above all it's mean-spirited. Berkeley isn't wrong here. And it's detractors are showing more about what's missing in their character than the most stereotypical Golden Bear hipster. For starters, Berkeley is a big place. It's total enrollment is over 40,000 students. These young people come from a range of backgrounds, and at any given time across that 40,000 there will be persons who are struggling, or experiencing crises, or feeling threatened, or any other permutation of personal circumstance and emotional troubles you can imagine. I've already written recently about how all of us -- self-satisfied declarations notwithstanding -- intuitively understand how certain speech can truly wound deeply, in a manner which we can all empathize with. That doesn't mean we ban it (and offering counseling doesn't "ban" anything), but it does mean that there's a genuine phenomena that we can and should attempt to address So let's be empathic. Let's imagine, amongst Berkeley's 40,000 students, that there is a student who is struggling. Maybe he's away from home for the first time and having difficulty adjusting. Maybe she feels in over her head in classes, finding that work that got her an A in high school is barely scraping a C at Berkeley. And then let's add more to it -- maybe he's just found out that he's now at imminent risk of deportation from the only country he's ever truly known. Maybe she's found out that, though she proudly served her country and is a veteran of the American armed forces, the President of the United States publicly declared her to be a burden on the US military who should never have been allowed to wear the uniform. Now let's remember who Ben Shapiro is.

Ben Shapiro thinks that trans individuals suffer from a "mental illness" and gratuitously misgenders them for the primary purpose of causing offense. He refers to DACA as President Obama's "executive amnesty". Pretty much the only reason his isn't an avowed member of the alt-right is that they happen to hate him too. He's not an intellectual. He's not one the great thinkers of the right. His oeuvre, his raison d'etre, is to be a hurtful provocateur. That's what he brings to the table.

And let's be clear: this, the above, was why Ben Shapiro was invited to Berkeley. It wasn't because he offered "a different view." And it certainly wasn't because of the intellectual candlepower he has on offer. The people who invited Ben Shapiro to UC-Berkeley did so because of, not in spite of, the hurt he will dish out to already-vulnerable members of the community. The students I outlined above -- already struggling, buffeted by political dynamics which very much are designed to dehumanize them -- now have to reckon with the reality that a non-negligible chunk of their colleagues are glad they're feeling that way. They actively want to accelerate the process. They'll go out of their way to invite speakers to reiterate and emphasize the point.

Honestly, I don't blame them if they could use a venue to talk out their feelings a bit. It strikes me as spectacularly uncharitable, a colossal failure of basic empathy, to think otherwise. Then again, what is our polity going through now but a colossal failure of basic empathy?

After the election, I made a similar comment (which I cannot find) when people again made fun of college kids who expressed deep hurt and fear upon the election of Donald Trump. This, too, was attributed to fragile millennial snowflakes who don't know how to tolerate hardship. And I remarked that the man now faced with being expelled from the country is not scared because he's frail, and the woman who was the victim of a sexual assault is not despondent because she's weak-willed. We've seemingly moved past "don't punch people who think you're subhuman" (okay) to "don't be sad that people think you're subhuman" (really?). Some are arguing that the real problem with offering counseling is that it doesn't teach the kids "resilience". First of all, I wonder what they think goes on in counseling sessions -- my strong suspicion is that they are precisely about fostering resiliency so that students are better able to cope with such annoying trivialities like "I may be torn from the only home I've ever known at any moment and a sizeable portion of what I thought was my community will cheer as they drag me off." The objection here isn't so much to lack of resilience as to the university having the temerity to try and teach it -- like objecting to wilderness training because shouldn't real men already know how to survive outdoors? Second, it is hard not to hear in this objection a deep resentment at the fact that today, even now, some people still do proactively care about the feelings of others. The argument seems to be that "fifty years ago if someone felt marginalized on a college campus nobody gave a shit. Today, some people -- including a few holding administrative positions -- do care, and for some reason that's a step backwards for society." One can hear more than a little of the typical mockery associated with using therapy of any sort -- though I admit I hadn't heard it manifest this overtly in some time -- which suggests that only persons of pathologically fragile mental composition could ever need something as lily-livered as counseling. Again, I find this argument hard to relate to, seeing as its genealogy is so thoroughly bound up in nothing more complicated than pure cruelty. Shorn of the feelings of superiority it generates, can anyone actually defend this? Others complain that students shouldn't be going to therapy in response to such speech, they should be responding in other ways -- debate, protest, donations, activism, any thing else. Of all the objections, this is the one that is the most difficult to credit. Does anyone think that the only way Berkeley students will respond to Ben Shapiro's speech is by going to counseling sessions? That Friday morning, all 40,000 of us will march into whatever center houses our mental health professionals and demand to be soothed? Of course not. Of course there will be debate, and protest, and donations, and activism. And you can bet that however such actions manifest, people will still find a way to denounce the entire response tout court -- unjustified actions like violence, yes, but also silent protest, but also waving signs, but also pure condemnatory speech (especially if that speech dares use the dreaded -ism or -phobic suffixes). Finally, let's dispense with the notion that this is all being triggered by students who can't tolerate "ideas they disagree with." For starters, it's notable that while Alivisatos' email does not in fact refer to any speakers in particular, everybody simultaneously assumed they were talking about Ben Shapiro while at the same time being aghast at how anyone could possibly need counseling after hearing Ben Shapiro. Me thinks they protest to much. But more to the point: Berkeley regularly hosts speakers who will present ideas many on campus will disagree with. This week, David Hirsh is giving a talk on "Contemporary Left Antisemitism" -- surely, many on campus would resist his conclusions. Later this term, National Review editor Reihan Salam will be speaking on immigration policy -- with no known objections or protests planned. So the problem isn't ideas people disagree with. The problem is Ben Shapiro, and Ann Coulter, and Milo Yiannopoulos. One doesn't invite them to campus because they're presenting important ideas which need to be reckoned with. There are plenty of conservatives who fit the bill, and when those conservatives show up they are typically met with little fanfare. But if you're inviting this contingent, you're doing it because you like hurting people. That's their comparative advantage, that's the thing they can offer over and above all of their competitors. It neither bothers me, nor surprises me, nor offends me, that this offends certain students. If some portion of those students are in an emotional place right now where they feel like they need counseling, I encourage them to get it. If others want to protest the speech, I support their right to do so within the parameters of the law. If still others want to attend the speech, or subject Shapiro to harsh questioning, or pen scathing op-eds in the Daily Cal, I applaud them all for it. And each of these options got pride of place in Alivistos' email. All of these are valid responses. None of them are worthy of scorn, none of them signal any deficiency in our student body. What is far more worrisome is the reaction of the so-called "adults" in the media, who have grown so fond of bashing kids-these-days that they've seemingly forgotten the need to reason, much less to empathize. via The Debate Link http://ift.tt/2xjwwVY

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Useful Info for Student to Know

‘Adulting’ is hard. UC Berkeley has a class for that

Conner Wright is carrying a demanding course load in his final year as an English major at UC Berkeley: antebellum American literature, introduction to music therapy and a research seminar on William Shakespeare.

The 20-year-old senior is immersed in the works of Henry David Thoreau, Ralph Waldo Emerson, Herman Melville and Harriet Jacobs.

But Wright, who is anticipating his graduation in May, has the self-awareness to know he needed a little something extra to prepare for his launch into a post-college world, that a superior ability to interpret classic literary works may not be enough.

So he signed up for a class on “adulting,” where he is learning to create and stick to a personal budget, build a resume and apply for jobs and navigate romantic relationships in a time when online interactions are eclipsing face-to-face encounters.

“I need to learn how to get this adult thing down and manage life,” Wright said.

The class, which has 30 students enrolled in each section, is led by two Berkeley undergrads who plan discussion topics and schedule guest speakers to fill 90 minutes each week. The “adults in training” are among thousands of people across the country who have signed up for courses that focus on things such as cooking or budgeting or time management.

Adulting classes for college students and postgrads have swelled in popularity in recent years, in part because many high schools have largely abandoned “life skills” courses such as home economics, which were created to help students navigate the path to adulthood.

That trend, combined with armies of hovering parents who emphasize academic achievement to the exclusion of almost everything else, has resulted in university classrooms filled with students who scored a 5 on their AP Physics test, but struggle to plan for a week’s worth of groceries and meals.

In Portland, Maine, the Adulting School offers in-person classes on “soft” skills, such as interviewing, conflict resolution and making friends, along with topics such as personal finance and basic home maintenance.

Principal Rachel Flehinger said her students, who are typically in their 20s and 30s, have experienced their share of disdain over their so-called entitlement and laziness.

“We’ve had clients who are millennials having major anxiety that they didn’t have these skills and didn’t feel successful as an adult,” she said. “There’s a lot of self-loathing that happens.”

Similar classes or in-person workshops have popped up at libraries and universities across the country, in private groups on social media and even on blogs tailored to college students. Some high schools have scheduled seminars on life skills as a way to prepare their students for life after graduation.

Sometimes students come up with their own solutions.

Neither Belle Lau of Washington nor Jenny Zhou of Arizona felt fully prepared for life away from home when they arrived at Berkeley two years ago. When Lau moved out of the dorms and into her own apartment during her sophomore year, her lack of self-reliance at the time became apparent. She was working, attending classes and, for the first time, had to plan her own meals, put money aside and cover her expenses. She quickly realized that she was spending too much money eating out all the time.

Lau and Zhou noticed that many of their peers were having similar struggles.

“We’re thrown out into this world and have little idea about what the heck we’re supposed to do,” said Lau, 21. “I think in general we all feel a little bit lost and don’t know where to start.”

To remedy that, Lau and Zhou, 20, decided to create their own class.

When it was first offered last spring, every one of the 30 spots was filled. Seventy students had to be turned away.

Lau and Zhou added a second session this semester. More than 200 students filled out applications explaining why they wanted to take the 12-week course. The women accepted fewer than half who applied.

Adulting is one of dozens of student-run courses in the university’s DeCal (Democratic Education at Cal) program, in which students create and facilitate their own classes on topics that include those practical and fun and often aren’t addressed in traditional curriculum. The project is rooted in the ideals of Berkeley’s free speech movement, launched in the 1960s when students pressed for and won greater academic rights.

There’s a class on criminal psychology, which “aims to analyze the minds of criminals, particularly of those who commit heinous crimes,” in an effort to understand factors that influenced their behaviors and led them to commit violent offenses. Students enrolled in “Intro to Baking” learn to make bread, cakes, pastries and other confections “without setting you or your roommates on fire,” according to the course catalog.

Another course takes participants on a journey to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry through discussions of Harry Potter novels.

The courses in DeCal count for one or two credits and are offered as pass/no pass; as a result, students say they are unlikely to add to their stress levels.

“College is a time of so many transitions — the losing of certain reference points — and it’s relatively sudden,” said Nancy Liu, an assistant clinical professor of psychology at UC Berkeley and the faculty sponsor for the adulting class this semester. “You’re on your own for the first time, you’re navigating a large system with limited support, you’re taken out of past comforts and starting anew, you have new tasks that you’ve never had to deal with before.

“Add to that the stress of a high-pressure academic environment, it makes sense that many would feel overwhelmed,” she said.

“College also sets the tone for much of what comes afterward: fostering those daily habits and routines; balancing work, school and life; remembering to file your taxes and keeping a budget; learning how to navigate interpersonal challenges with less scaffolding or support from experienced others. It seems crucial to address it head-on in a way that was valuable to students,” Liu said.

When Lau and Zhou decided to create a class, they initially envisioned a course in cooking, a passion they share. That idea morphed into life hacks and, later, adulting.

When the two began brainstorming a syllabus, daily tasks such as laundry, sewing and car maintenance didn’t make the cut. Instead, they focused on topics that are more abstract: time management, budgeting, fitness and nutrition, and relationships.

Each 90-minute session features a presentation from Zhou and Lau, juniors majoring in molecular and cell biology and integrative biology, respectively, and an outside expert who visits the class in person or via video chat. Last year, a recruiter from Lyft prepped students about job searches and a former accountant discussed filing taxes.

Those accepted into the classes, mostly seniors, have lamented that many of the things they were learning weren’t taught by their parents.

Lau’s mother, Allie Wu, says that parents “don’t trust their kids enough to do things on their own,” adding that “when they’re at home their parents pretty much take care of everything for them.”

Wu says she has always been very independent, a trait that was a necessity when she arrived in the United States from Taiwan as a 22-year-old to pursue her MBA. Wu hoped her daughter would leave home with the same sense of self-sufficiency. But when Lau confessed to her mother that she struggled a bit her first year at Berkeley, Wu said she began to worry.

Those concerns dissipated when Lau told her about the adulting class she wanted to start with a friend.

Wu, who visited the class last year to talk about taxes, said the course is “wonderful” and “unique.”

“I know she’s in a good place now. I’m very proud of her,” Wu said. “She knows what she wants and what she needs to accomplish her goals.”

During the first week of “adulting” at Berkeley this semester, students were asked to come up with goals that were “SMART”— specific, measurable, attainable, relevant and time-based.

To kick it off, Zhou asked whether anyone had ever set a goal they didn’t accomplish.

A few hands shot up. Several people shifted uncomfortably in their chairs. A handful looked around the room.

In less than a minute, everyone’s hand was in the air.

After a brief lecture, Lau and Zhou split the class into groups of six, each assigned to discuss their goals for the semester. Precision was rewarded; vagueness had to be remedied.

Students shuffled their desks into haphazard circles in the classroom and made quick introductions. They bantered about the dread of 8 a.m. classes and late-night studying marathons that would compound that trepidation as the semester dragged on.

Then things got uncomfortable.

Some of the students spoke in hushed tones as they shared the goals they had written on sheets of paper in front of them and, along with those, their insecurities that they might not be doing this whole grown-up thing quite right.

Wright spoke up first. His goal was to build more healthful habits with diet and exercise before graduation. The group nodded in agreement.

Several students said better time management would make a huge difference in their lives. One woman, a junior, said planning and establishing a routine might keep her from staying up all night cramming for exams.

Another piped up, saying she’d like to get more done during the day by limiting how much time she spends on her phone — a common distraction.

Kate Curtis, a 21-year-old senior who showed up 10 minutes late to the class with a look of embarrassment and a quick apology, said she’s long struggled with punctuality. She’s been late so many times to her job at a fast-food restaurant that her manager recently pulled her into a meeting to discuss it. She was humiliated and ashamed.

“I want to learn to be dependable. I want other people to be able to count on me,” she said.

Curtis, who transferred to Berkeley from a community college in Orange County, said she lived at home for the first two years of college and feels she was coddled longer than her peers.

“I’m eight hours away from home now, so I’m actually on my own. I have to find my own doctor if I’m sick. I’ve just signed up for my first loan, and I’m not really understanding what I’m getting into,” she said.

Lau acknowledged that she and Zhou don’t have all the answers, but she’s quick to note that parents shouldn’t be faulted for their children’s lack of real-world knowledge.

“Maybe it is our parents who aren’t teaching us these things we thought we should already know, but we don’t want to blame our parents for us being naive or ignorant,” she said. “It’s our responsibility as college students to know that if we’re struggling in some aspect, there are resources out there for us.” *Reposted article from the UT by Hannah Fry of December 10, 2019

[muabannhadatdananggiare]

Simple tips to Write Top-notch Papers and Essays More Quickly

Simple tips to Write Top-notch Papers and Essays More Quickly

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I’m not gonna lie: writing papers can draw. Even while an individual who essentially writes documents for a full time income these days (similar to this article), we nevertheless viewed every university paper with a tinge of dread.

In the end, composing a paper is not like working mathematics dilemmas or reading a chapter of a guide. Because difficult as those tasks could be, www.essayshark.com they constantly seemed more finite compared to the monumental task of “writing a paper.” You can’t simply start the guide and commence working: you need to brainstorm, research, outline, draft, edit, and add those citations that are pesky.

I developed a system for cranking out papers in record time as I moved through college, however. This I want to save money time on items that we enjoyed, such as for example composing because of this weblog and using long walks through the forests. Today, I’m going to fairly share this method to make sure you too can compose documents faster (with out a decrease within the quality of one’s writing).

Noise impossible? Keep reading to observe how it really works.

1. Comprehend the project

The ultimate waste of time whenever composing a paper would be to compose something which does not also answer the question the teacher is asking. Don’t forget to inquire of the teacher to describe any right an element of the assignment that’s uncertain.

In the event that project appears obscure, it is maybe maybe maybe not considering that the teacher is wanting to trip you up. Frequently, it is that they understand their industry therefore well so it’s simple for them to imagine some things are “obvious”…even if they aren’t to us non-experts.

Keep in mind: requesting clarification you stupid; what’s stupid is to complete the assignment without understanding it because you don’t understand the assignment doesn’t make.

Yet, whenever I ended up being an English TA in college, I saw this nagging issue on a regular basis. Pupils would invest hours investigating and writing a paper on a different subject than just exactly what the teacher assigned. It does not make a difference just exactly how good a paper it’s going to receive a bad grade is–if it doesn’t answer the question.

Most useful situation situation, the teacher is good and allows you to rewrite it, but how come all of that additional work? Additionally, asking the teacher for clarification programs initiative–that you worry about the project. Showing this known amount of engagement along with your projects can just only increase your grade.

2. Analysis with Ruthless Effectiveness

As soon as you realize the project, you’ll want to begin investigating. But beware! If you’re not careful, research is usually top techniques to procrastinate. “One more source” can easily develop into hours you could have already been composing.

To conquer the temptation to procrastinate on research, we use my approach that is favorite for all types of procrastination: establishing a period limitation. You shouldn’t spend more than 30 minutes per page of the final paper researching as I explained in my guide to library research. That is, in the event that paper is supposed become 5 pages, don’t save money than 2.5 hours on research (optimum).

Investing more time than this sets you at point of diminishing comes back. Don’t concern yourself with without having enough information. If you learn that you’ll require more details after you begin composing, you can do more research. The purpose of your initial research session is to offer you simply sufficient product to start out writing. Enter into the library or database, find your sources, bring your records, and then arrive at writing.

3. Create a Flat Outline

“It’s impractical to figure every detail out of one’s argument before you take a seat, have a look at your sources, and also you will need to write. Many pupils abandon their hierarchical outline right after their hands hit the keyboard.”

– Cal Newport, “How to make use of a set Outline to Write Outstanding Papers, Fast”

Ever I felt the system was broken since I learned the traditional method of outlining papers in 8th grade. We never created an overview with bullets and figures and letters before composing the paper. I usually simply made one up a while later because I happened to be needed to turn one out of using the paper that is final.

Beginning in university, we developed my outlining that is own technique had been even more effective. Since it works out, my method ended up beingn’t therefore initial all things considered. As Cal Newport describes, it is called an outline that is flat. In Cal’s terms, the flat outline works as follows:

Don’t develop an outline that is hierarchical. Instead, list the topics you intend to tackle within the purchase you intend to tackle.

Revisit the collection to get sources for the subjects that still require support.

Dump all appropriate quotes from your sources beneath the subjects.

Transform your outline that is topic-level into paper. Don’t begin from a blank display.

Is not this a great deal better? The outline that is flat since it mirrors the writing process. No body sits right down to write by having a perfect notion of just what they’re going to express. You will find just just just what you’re likely to state through the entire process of composing. The outline that is flat you simply sufficient framework to overcome the dreaded “blank canvas” while nevertheless making room for development.

4. Create the Perfect Writing Environment

Okay, so that you have rock solid knowledge of the topic, you’ve done your quest, along with your flat outline is ready. Now, you will need to sit back and write the sucker. Not therefore fast: where you compose is important.

Because after procrastination, the best barrier to composing a paper quickly is distraction. In the event that you don’t have a host where you are able to concentrate, you’ll waste hours leaping backwards and forwards involving the paper and whatever interruptions come the right path.

To ensure that you have actually the main focus of a zen master, you need to develop a writing environment that allows focus that is zen-like. For the full guide to making a distraction-free study area, always check our article out in the subject. In the meantime, right right right here’s a directory of the greatest methods:

Visit a place that is studious. This might be a peaceful area of the library, a coffee that is off-campus, and sometimes even your dorm space. You, that’s the place you must go wherever you know that people won’t distract or interrupt.

Ensure it is comfortable. You won’t manage to concentrate on composing if for example the seat feels as though a sleep of finger finger nails or even the dining dining table wobbles. Look after your base comfort that is physical composing other things. Caveat: don’t write whilst in sleep. Your sleep is just for sleeping and…you understand, that other s-word.

Block distractions that are digital. Dependent on how lousy your internet/phone addiction is, this may be because straightforward as shutting unrelated programs and placing your phone in airplane mode or since extreme as setting up a software such as for example cool Turkey Writer that blocks every thing on your pc unless you compose a number that is certain of. If you want the world-wide-web to create (possibly you’re writing in Bing Docs, for instance), you’ll be able to install an application such as Freedom or SelfControl to block distracting web sites.

Assemble your materials. Seated to create and realizing you left one of your sources back your dorm is a productivity killer that is definite. Make sure you have actually your personal computer charged, sources assembled, and coffee/tea during the prepared before your compose a term.

Placed on your power up playlist. Then i recommend using music that will get you in the zone to write if you don’t find it distracting. We have an albums that are few rotation that have me personally right into a mode of composing movement. As an example, when composing this informative article I placed on Muse’s The 2nd Law. You better think I felt willing to conquer the global globe with this in the back ground. If you’re trying to find a killer collection that is pre-made of music, check out Thomas’s Ultimate Study musical Playlist.

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