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me1ancho1y-b1iss · 4 years ago

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Her Robin and His Little Ladybug Ch. 2

Ao3 Chapter 1 Chapter 2

As soon as Marinette spoke it set off absolute chaos, everyone started talking at once, asking questions and demanding answers from the small girl. Eventually Bruce, now as Batman, spoke up.

“ENOUGH.” Bruce demanded of everyone in the room.

Silence was all that remained where if a pin was dropped it could be heard. Both parties, Marinette and the bats stared at each other, until Bruce finally spoke again.

“Who are you?” he asked Marinette.

“I believe I asked a question first” Marinette smarted back. Jason snorted as Damian glared at her.

“Answer our questions harlot.” Damian spoke as he glared at her. “Who are you and what are you doing here?”

Dick or rather Nightwing now, spoke next. “Come on baby bird, be nice, we don't know her and she doesn’t look like she knows us.”

“That’s exactly the point Grayson! We don’t know her, or how she appeared in the cave!” Damian grimaced as he glanced back at Dick.

“Codenames, baby bird.” Dick muttered

Hi! I’m Nightwing! OMG, you're so cute and tiny! You're in the batcave, this is Robin, that's Red Hood, over there is Red Robin, standing there with the death glare is Batman, and finally sitting at the batcomputer in the wheelchair is Oracle!”

“Uhh… Hi.” Marinette waved. Dick visibly cooed at her while the rest of the bats just stood there.

“I’m Marinette Dupain-Cheng. I’m from Paris, France.” She said as if that would answer all their questions.

Realization spread on Bruce's face as he realized what happened. He realized that this must be the work of the Akumas the league was investigating.

“You said you’re from Paris, correct? Batman asked Marinette. At her nod he continued. “So this must be the work of an Akuma”

Marinette nodded. “The last thing I heard before I was transported here was a loud voice yelling, that people should treasure their relationships and that people should be able to have soulmates… or something like that, I don't really know, I wasn’t really paying attention as I was suddenly transported here with no warning.” she muttered the last part under breath but the bats still heard her.

After around five seconds of total silence, Jason started cackling loudly. “You, tiny little pixie is apparently Demon Spawn’s soulmate. Yeah, I doubt that…” Jason spoke, and started laughing again.

After Jason said that, all of the rest of the bats realized what she said and started snickering, except for Bruce and Damian, who just stood in front of Marinette with his mouth wide open gaping at her.

Dick asked a question next. “Wait, what’s an Akuma, and if it's powerful enough to actually locate someone’s soulmate and send them here, Why doesn’t the league know about this? Dick asked, looking back at Bruce.

“The league is aware of the situation. It’s on a need to know basis, and only certain members are aware. Wonder Women, Superman, Aqua Man and myself are the ones aware as the situation is extremely delicate and dangerous.

Paris has their own heros, that have been handling the situation extremely well and there has been no need to interfere. Wonder Woman has gone out and has spoken to the heroes. They are aware that if they need any help that can contact the justice league and we will send out a member to help aid them.”

When Bruce was done speaking, the rest of the bats were sort of shocked they weren’t aware of anything happening Paris this year or any year at all.

Barbara immediately put it into the Batcomputer and pulled up one of Marinette’s old fights. As Marinette watched the fight with the rest of the bat’s, she cringed. She remembered the fight, perhaps she remembered it too well. It was her third battle with Evillustrator. Nathaniel managed to remember that he could draw whatever he wanted.

He turned all of Paris into a war zone. He managed to draw himself an all powerful army with a stock supply of weapons. The battle lasted almost a full day and was one of the most lethal with over 1 million dead. The second deadliest behind Syren.

As the video ended all the people in the room turned to marinette with a shocked look on their faces.

Dick was the first to speak. “You deal with this all the time?” he whispered in a scared tone

“Usually they’re not that bad. That was the second deadliest attack Paris ever had, the first being Syren. All of the effects of the damage is reversed by the ‘miraculous ladybug,’ Ladybug, the main hero announces that after she broke the object where the akuma was hidden. As soon as she throws up her ‘lucky charm’ and says that phrase all damage from the attack gets reversed.”

“What a Lucky charm? You said it helps clear all the damage, so what does it do?” Tim spoke next.

Marinette nodded as she said, “ The Lucky Charm is something that Ladybug calls on during the battle. It’s usually just a seemingly random object, but as soon as she calls on it the battle usually doesn’t last any longer than three minutes.”

“What are the other heroes' powers?” Tim asked again.

“Chat Noir has the power of destruction, just as ladybug has the power of creation. All Chat Noir has to do is simply say ‘cataclysm’ and he's able to destroy anything he touches.”

Again all the bats, except for Batman himself, started at Marinette, with wide eyes.

“How old are the heroes’ because to me they don’t look to be any older than the demon spawn’s age. Also how long has this been going on? Jason asked of Marinette, in a demanding tone.

“All anyone can do is speculate the ages, due to the magic, but many say they have to be around 18 - 20 years old.” Marinette said in a rather confident voice

“And how long has this been happening?” Jason asked again in a tone that made Marinette take an unconscious step back.

“A-about four years.” Marinette said, with her voice trembling a little bit.

“So the heroes would have been about 13- 15 give or take when they first started given the assumptions are correct…?”

At her nod, Jason started pacing back and forth yelling, “FUCKING HELL, what the fuck they’re kids, they were babies when they started and they have to deal with the saving the fucking world every fucking week. I admit I was young too when I started, but it was my own choice and I got FUCKING killed for it!”

‘That’s why he has such a tainted soul, it absolutely reeks of destruction and creation magic, I’ll have to talk to Tikki later to see if we can get rid of it’ Marinette thought wisely.

“B, why in the everloving hell did you let fucking kids fight in a goddamn war alone?!” Jason yelled at Bruce while still pacing the floor of the batcave.

“Hood, they are only one able to fight in these battle, no matter what we do, we would not be able to fight, the best we do is investigate the villain.

Hawkmoth, the super terrorist, is the one creating the akamus. We find him, we stop the akumas.”

“You mean we just sit here while these kids are out fighting and there’s absolutely nothing we can do?” Tim spoke up, finally finding the courage to speak.

Batman simply shook his head.

A/N: ok, so like I have five chapters of this posted on ao3 if you want to read it there, (im taking a minute to post it on tumblr bc im lazy. ok) Also I swear I’m working on chapter 6, i'm just stuck on a particular scene and its taking a minute to figure out how I want to transition. on a side note this fic is honestly just something that my brain decided it would be a good idea to write at 2am so like don't expect too much. (sorry for the rant)

Taglist: (people asked in the last chapter to add them, so if you want to be added just ask. I probably wont respond, maybe, but I will definitely add you)

@alyssadeliv @yannowhatigiveup @sekhmet5

#maribat #daminette #maridami #damian x marinette #honestly I don't even know what this fic is anymore #crossposted on ao3 #miraculous crossover #mlb x dc

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pocketramblr · 4 years ago

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how his hair do that, 5 options

the following is a crack fanfic in five parts, each section on the same premise but not same continuity. also, very spoilerish

bnha manga spoilers below! very recent leaks below! very spoilery!

Better than a charcoal milkshake v 1

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When the heroes first attacked, alarms blaring, compound up in chaos, Dabi snuck away. He let the others pour out of the doors and down the stairs, and crept backwards, turning and running once he was certain no one would notice him.

Not that it would matter much if he did, but why waste the energy on killing them too? He’d need all his firepower today.

Dabi tore through the halls to his room, making it there and slapping his card against the scanner. No time to lose, not when he knew he needed to take care of a few more things before locating where Endeavor was in this heroes’ mission.

He kicked open his bathroom door, hands occupied with carefully pulling the black wig off his head- snagging that on his staples was just the worst, and he couldn’t have blood messing this up today.

Not yet, at least.

Under the bathroom cabinet he grabbed the bag of powery charcoal. It was supposed to be used for some beauty purpose or another, something about enriching hair that didn’t even work- but it would work to darken his white locks.

He poured it on, barely bothering to lean over the sink and keep it from going everywhere. As a final test, he once more wet a bit of it, the color seeping from the hair as it dripped.

He already knew it would work, that’s why he had intercepted so much of it before the quirk cultists could offer it to Toga or Hawks or whoever, but his heart was racing with both nerves and pure excitement.

Finally. The day he’d burn it all down, and make them see why.

He left his door open as he ran back out into the hallway, making a beeline for where he left Hawks. First things first, take care of that, then find Endeavor.

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Better than a charcoal milkshake v 2

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“Hey, put me down by that camping supplies store. And Skeptic too.” Dabi ordered, surveying the carnage of Jakku and glancing over at the man hunched over his laptop.

Said man looped up sharply at that, frowning and spitting that he wasn’t going to do that or something.

Dabi didn’t really pay attention to that.

“Where?” Gigantomachia asked, still rumbling forward towards whatever he smelled. Two masters or something.

Compress cleared his throat and translated for the currently blinded giant. “It’s at 4:05 o’clock, I’d say thirty feet forward.” He then looked over at Dabi, mask as unsettling as any of them. “You’ll be carefull too, on your personal mission?”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Dabi waved him off, snagging Skeptic by the back of his shirt and tugging as Machia scooped them up and placed them on the pavement.

He ran inside the evacuated store, mercifully empty and not decayed, and started looking for the bags of charcoal.

When he found one, he tore it open. Charcoal fell to the floor, and he ground his boot down into it.

“What…” Skeptic seemed without words, for once. Good.

Dabi tore off his black wig, tossing it aside. He wouldn’t need it anymore.

“You wear a wig??”

“Yeah.” He started to scoop up handfuls of the charcoal, rubbing it into his hair. “Hey, go grab me some water, and then go set up the cameras. We got a show to put on.”

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Stinky dumpster boy

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“But my good name?” He sneered the word and all it implied in the world of false heroes, “is Todoroki Touya.”

With that, he dumped the water over his head, and it streamed down over his face, filthy.

The dirty water, practically mud, stung the places on his face where his skin was barely stapled together, and Dabi was reminded of why he didn’t bother with showers anymore- the pain.

But now his true colors- literally- were revealed and it was all worth it. All the truth was out, and the truth had always hurt him.

Shoto, who seemed to be trying to juggle first aid on like, five different people with two random heroes he didn’t know next to him, gaped.

“Come on, I know my face has changed, but my own family should still be able to recognize me, yeah? But you never did. You never did, Todoroki Shoto.”

Dabi suddenly found himself encased in ice.

Ah, this again.

“Yumi’s is colder.”

Shoto’s jaw dropped, then he glared. “Stand back.” He said as he stood up. “He just dunked water on his head, to cool him off I bet. If he is Touya, his body never could handle his own heat. If he’s not… those burns come from somewhere at least.”

Ok, now Dabi was offended.

“What do you mean, ‘if I’m not’?” he demanded. “I just revealed my white hair? I know that’s what the picture on my shrine looks like, you never even looked at that?”

“How do you even know what your shrine looks like?” Shoto sounded dangerously close to judgmental for a little brother who was probably as emo as Dabi had been at his age. “And wait, that cup of water was supposed to wash out your hair? What, do you never bathe or something?”

Ok, now Dabi was really offended.

“Of course I bathe! I just have to sponge bath, because I don’t know if you’ve noticed from having your own scars, but when they take up most of your body and are killing you they end up controlling a lot of your life!”

Ugh, asking him if he didn’t bathe. He’d understand that asked of Shigaraki, sure, but him? Shoto had gotten close enough to smell him, at least.

“Um, sorry to interrupt,” the hero in blue, the one that was tending to Eraserhead, raised his hands. “But uh… do you want some help with that?”

“I’m fine, don’t want to cool him off too much so he can fight longer.” Shoto shook his head.

“I was talking to him.”

“Oh.”

“What?”

The hero waved his hand, bubble of water pulling up from the ground. Then he pointed to his own head. “I can take care of that? At the very least it’ll be cleaned out and um, whatever color it should be?”

Dabi stared at him. Shoto stared at him. The other hero in green stared at him, and the one who’d offered help started to sweat noticebly.

“Eh, sure, whatever.”

The hero nodded, and the bubble of water floated over to him, disappearing in his hair.

The bubble floated out a couple of time, murky brown and black with ash, dirt, oil, blood, anything else he’d never thought about too much. It would wring itself thin, much dropping, and return to cleaning.

Finally, his hair was mostly white and thoroughly soaked.

“Thanks.” He called over.

“Yeah.” The hero answered, still frantically trying to help Eraserhead with his free hand, which he’d gone back too as soon as he thought Dabi was distracted. Buying time.

The other hero was on his fourth facepalm.

Shoto just looked contemplative.

Endeavor, one of the ones receiving treatment, sat up but looked like he was going to pass out.

Well all right then. Time to really start- the hair snafu didn’t matter. They were all going to die that day anyway.

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Weirdest commercial I’ve ever been in.

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“We’ll be dancing in hell together, Todoroki Enji.” Dabi finished his speech with a sneer.

The watching heroes were all stunned silent, mouths open, eyes wide. The revelation must be sending them, like it would all who were watching Skeptic’s broadcast. This would burn it all down, perfect.

“I don’t understand…” Enji managed to say, spitting out a bit of blood.

“What, you don’t understand how I survived, or how I hate you so much I’d hurt innocent people over it? Because that second part is exactly what you did, take out all that self-loathing and insecurity, rage at your shortcomings and condemn children not born yet to them. Guess it’s a family trait.”

“No, not that,” He waved a hand. “I mean, I totally get how you’re a wreck, even if all of your other siblings managed to not become mass murders, I mean- I don’t understand, how did that pint of water wash out all of your hair dye? Aren’t you better funded after the Deika merger, can’t you afford proper hair coloring?”

“I was also wondering that.” Shoto admitted.

“Same.” The hero in blue nodded. The hero in green facepalmed.

“Water?” Dabi repeated, then looked at the can he’d tossed aside. “Oh, no. This isn’t water- it’s a momento of the only true hero.” He bent down, picking up the can and studying the image on it.

“Stain was right, you know.” He mused. “About hero society being rotten. So rotton, so full of fakes, that there was only one that deserved the title. He just got the wrong hero, guessing All Might.” Dabi snorted at the very idea. “No, the only real one, the pure one, the one that defines heroism, the only one with a kill count higher than me- for all the dear old man and his biggest fan Hawks tried, of course- is Wash.”

“… Wash?” Shoto cocked his head. “Wait, like, Wash, Wash?”

“The one and only. That’s how this Official Wash’s Hair Washing Serum, the only product that can wash out all dirt, dye, and any other kind of grime, in just one go.” He shook the can around so they could see. “What, you all thought I could just magically lighten my hair from black to white in the space of one fight?”

“No,” Shoto said, like a liar, and then he threw a glacier at Dabi, and the fight was on in earnest.

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Old news

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“And now you’ll see who I really am, who you’ve created.” Dabi poured the bleach over his head, giving it a moment to sink into the hair before he shook it out, grinning wide enough to tear his staples.

The heroes on the ground and the few tending to them stared in shock.

Then Shoto gasped.

“Hawks?”

“What? Where?” Dabi whirled around, looked up, because he was really sure he had managed to make sure that pest wouldn’t be flying or fighting again, but well… he’d thought that once before and been wrong then.

“No, you- you’re Hawks, you dye your hair black when its in Dabi mode, and its that beachy yellow blond in Hawks mode.” Shoto nodded to himself.

Blond? Dabi tugged at a lock of hair, and huh. It did seem more yellow than white.

“How could he be Hawks?” The hero in green demanded incredulously, before the hero in blue grabbed his arm and pulled it back to holding down Eraserhead for bandaging.

“The burns and staples are part of the disguise,” Shoto explained. “Fake, and misdirection. You were trained from young childhood to be a hero, sent to join AfO and the league as a spy, where you gained a fire quirk and decided to switch to the villains’ side because you hated the life you were forced into.”

Dabi stared at him.

Shoto stared back.

Enji stared at both of them.

“How are you so smart and so stupid at the same time?” Slipped from chapped, burnt lips.

Shoto looked offended at that.

“I mean, you’re half right, yes that’s what up with Hawks, yes he was sent as a spy, but I knew and I killed him at the compound. And not, like, in a metaphorical way.” He added when he saw something spark in Shoto’s eyes. “Literally. I’m not him. He is completely separate person and body than me and I totally literally killed him.” Or like. Close enough. “And like, thirty other people who were completely innocent.”

Or close enough, he really didn’t bother to keep track, but thirty sounded like a big number. Especially of murders.

“So then who are you?” Shoto asked.

“What, you don’t recognize me, little brother?” He almost growled it, feeling very tired of this all of a sudden.

“Little brother?” Shoto repeated, eyes wide, then narrowing. “Wait, how…”

“Oh not again.” Enji muttered.

“Not again?” Dabi asked. “Wait, you actually managed to drive one of the others to this too? And cover it up? Man, Enji, you’re more rotten than even I knew then!”

“One of the others?” Shoto looked around wildly. “What are you talking about?”

“I was talking about how Shigaraki also randomly showed up and called a first year student “little brother”.” Enji looked back over at Dabi. “What were you talking about?”

“Shigaraki did what?” The pyro looked over his shoulder, finding the villain looking absolutely stoned on the ground, almost as vacant as some of the unconscious heroes, with a curly haired student laying bloodied nearby, staring up at him. “Wait, which student is his little brother?”

“Midoriya, apparently.” Shoto shrugged.

“Midoriya?” Dabi almost choked on the name. “As in, the green bone-breaking kid? Isn’t he like All Might’s lovechild or something?”

“That’s what I said too!”

“I mean, his hair was also lighter when he showed up today.” The hero in blue pointed out to his fellow in a voice that would have been too quiet for Dabi to hear had everyone else not gone silent as well.

“And bleach boy tried to do the same thing with the bleach, yeah. Here, I’ll tie this off, you go take care of Bakugo.”

“I’m Todoroki Touya!” Dabi snapped. “Or I used to be called by that name, anyway, before you nearly killed me, Enji. Let’s just- get back to fighting, yeah, I’m going to kill you.”

#kjhgfghjk #this really is just me making fun of the hair thing #brought on by me and my sister giggling over possibilities #from 'do he wash' to 'wait... hair bleach doesnt work like that it'd be yellowy first'#my fic #my writing #ok i think thats enough tags #bnha manga spoilers #bnha #wish tumblr would give me my line break rights back #crackfic

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jordanas-diary · 4 years ago

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Seaspiracy

This documentary seems to be the talk of the time at the moment and I have to say that initially, I was super excited to see issues that I have been studying for the last four years, being brought to the forefront of people’s minds after having banged on about them for who knows how long. But boy oh boy was I disappointed in how the issues were being portrayed. Where to begin?

The first thing that frustrates me with this is the science/data/information these people are using. Or the lack of it. Sure it has sources for some of the data being used, but not once do I see the utilisation of a credible science journal with peer-reviewed articles. Nor do I see a lot of scientists providing input on the questions they are posing to ocean conservation organisations. With some googling, you will find a lot of the data isn’t backed up by scientists working in these areas of study in reports or in articles - so what’s the truth? The graphics in this documentary too ... a great white shark on coral reefs? Un-fucking-likely. Two heccing ridiculous claims were made in this documentary: 1. Dolphins are only killed bc they're pests; and 2. Ebola was caused by decreased fish stocks????? I will elaborate on these later. But anyways ...

This brings me to my next issue - the demonisation of ocean conservation organisations. Somehow BP oil came out looking like a good guy in comparison to these organisations. How in the world did that happen? These organisations provide funding for ocean conservation, research, clean up and education - if we stop funding these organisations, how can we continue to learn about the ocean and educate our younger generations?

What's more is the interview tactics used were shady as hell, and just aiming to paint the narrative they wanted. Now I was ok with this in the beginning, but the less they tried to paint a more balanced picture of the industry, the more frustrated I became. The narrative they were aiming for will have some detrimental impacts on these organisations as mentioned above.

Furthermore, this documentary is incredibly white-centric. Sure there are problematic practices across the world, but painting Asia as the worst? Have you ever wondered why? One of the key drivers for unsustainable fishing practices is the demand - but this demand is not only domestic, but international as well. Now, where internationally is the demand coming from? The West. It is our demand for more and more seafood, drives for the supply to become higher and higher CAUSING these businesses and countries to find more seafood in order to turn a profit.

I also had an issue with the spread and demographic of people contributing throughout the documentary. All of these people were white/white-passing, mostly male, majority activists/journalists, all bringing exceptionally similar perspectives and ideas as to what they see as the ideal future. But without diversity of thought - how can we create a truly encompassing and servicing society for all?

Back I will return to the "dolphins are pests" claim. This i n f u r i a t e d me to the absolute max. Why? Because not once did these people even THINK to acknowledge or even explore indigenous practices in the marine environment, or the significance these animals hold to these people culturally. Which then brings me to the intent of the documentary.

This documentary was not created to explore sustainable modes of fishing - or even the idea of it for that matter - but to stop the consumption of fish. There are so many issues in this. I mean to unpack this from a science perspective - the lack of scientific backing of the majority of the claims this documentary made is laughable - but to go and completely disregard years of research and experiments and exploration is just plain ignorant. Why only tell one side of this complex issue? Where is the balance between science, governments and protection organisations? Heavily weighting this documentary to the side creates the misinformation that has scientists pressed from the get go fam. Science and technology have evolved [and will continue to evolve] to help us better understand fish stocks and populations, as well and feeding and breeding patterns. Genetics can be used to understand where fish are coming from and whether or not their capture was legal or not, making it harder for fishing vessels to lie about where and how stocks were caught. New Zealand is a good place to look at when exploring sustainable fisheries if you are interested in what this might look like.

AND THEN from a cultural and social perspective - well if all fishing is banned then how do we put millions, if not billions of people into jobs to feed, clothe and house their families? What assistance will be given to these people from governments or international institutions? My guess? Very little. Most fisherman probably get paid dirt nothing and have skills for a specialised field - how can we ask them to go out and retrain? They most likely will not have the finds to do so. Many of these people will live in vulnerable communities, lacking infrastructure and opportunity to provide them with jobs if the fishing industry was to just ... stop. The expectation that Asian nations that make up a lot of international seafood trade will immediately have the capacity to if not give jobs, but provide assistance to millions of people without jobs and their families is so unrealistic that even on an international level this would be a huge ask.

THEN we come to the question of what happens to indigenous people, coastal communities and island nations that literally r e l y on the ocean for everything? If we ask these people to stop relying on the ocean, not only will they lose their source of income and sustenance, but also lose their cultural practices and knowledge of the ocean that they can no longer pass on through action. Indigenous peoples and coastal communities have such a different relationship with the environment and the ocean, it is hard to comprehend let alone explain if you do not possess this. There is an inherent as well as learned intuition that is passed down between generations where you learn the right times of the year to harvest through the. understanding of the lifecycle and breeding patters, without specific scientific knowledge have the ability to know the difference between mature and juvenile species, and so much more. The knowledge that these people hold is integral to the survival of our oceans, yet not once was this mentioned throughout the documentary.

Urging people to stop eating fish is incredibly ignorant. Some people many not be in a position to - whether that be culturally, socially, for health reasons - whatever. Sure reduce consumption, find an alternative if you have the ability and means to do so. Don’t do it just because a documentary told you to. The reason why a lot of organisations made no comment on this is because people deserve the right to choice of what they seat - and in some cases, seafood might be their main source of protein and energy.

What this documentary did do right though, is raise all of these issues by bringing them to the front of public mind. Ghost fishing, overfishing, shark finning - all of these practices take an absolute toll on our oceans - without halting these specific practices, I cannot see how our oceans can survive, let alone sustain the human race.

For me, Seaspiracy comes from a place of privilege and stubbornness. There is very little attempt to better educate themselves on these issues, lack of will/want to learn about cultural aspects in fisheries, and the spread of misinformation through data and “facts”. If this documentary has made some how emotionally charged you to do something to protect our oceans - WOOO!!! This issue has been so underrated for far too long. However, do not take this documentary as gospel - go and do some of your own research! Explore the topics raised! Educate yourself! Critically analyse every piece of information you come across, check if it can be backed/verified by other articles/reports released on the same/similar topics!

Happy to answer any questions people might have on this. Hopefully this sheds more light on our ocean issues and that people think more critically about this documentary before, during and after watching it.

Tagging: @lightacademiasworld

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thesvenqueen · 4 years ago

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With All My Love

Rating: M

Pairing: Kristanna (as if it would be anything else)

Also on AO3

Previous Chapters

Note: just want to say thank you thank you thank you to all you lovely readers! appreciate all the love and comments and tags and love you all greatly 💕

{Chapter 12}

Days go by, and then a week.

A routine has been made between them, one that came easily. He awakens before her, something he teases her on relentlessly with a smirk, and makes breakfast for them both.

Anna will tend to the chickens while Kristoff gets hay for Sven. They tend to the garden together, pulling weeds, watering and observing the plants to make sure they grow good and strong. They make a new row just for her future flowers, ready for new seeds whenever they come.

She’ll watch as he tends to his sled, help where she can as he makes a fence for the chickens. They both tidy the cabin when it needs it, sweeping and dusting, washing what needs washing.

Most days they’ll finish early, leaving them to their own devices.

Kristoff took it upon himself to teach her how to make bread one afternoon. She’d failed the first time, resulting in a hard, flat brick that even the chickens struggled to eat. He’d tried a piece, and though she could tell it was an absolute disaster he still told her with his lopsided smile that it was a good first try. Her second and third were much more successful, merely four pieces left now to show for it.

Other days they sit by the river, feet soaking in the cool mountain water. Sometimes they sit in silence, other times they chat about anything and everything. More often than not, they find themselves tangled together, kissing each other senseless as they lay on the river bank.

Some days they’ll walk, hand in hand, down paths that Kristoff knows well. Just yesterday he had led her to a small valley nearby where wild flowers were blooming. They’d laid in the flowers, holding each other, talking, kissing, watching the clouds, kissing some more. Anna continued to find stray pieces of grass and weed tangled within her hair.

Evenings become her favorite time. It’s quiet, still within the cabin, nothing but the sound of the crackling fire. They always find themselves sitting in front of the fireplace, a blanket shared between them, Anna leaning into Kristoff’s lap as he holds her in his arms. It’s comforting, soothing to rest in his arms, to feel his chest move as he breathes, to feel his lips against her brow as she dozes.

Before, it used to bother Anna to go to bed early. Especially if she’d had a day where she’d done nothing, it felt as though she was extremely lazy for finding sleep so early. Now though, finding sleep early is rewarding. Something she deserves after doing and achieving so much during the day.

It’s an added bonus when she finds herself nearly asleep in his arms, the feel of him lifting and carrying her to the bed, a soft murmur of ‘I love you’ the last thing she hears before sleep overcomes her.

~.~

Something is different today, Anna can sense it. There is an odd air of tension it seems between them now, one that wishes to snap.

He’d been quiet all morning, making Anna uneasy.

They’ve been so comfortable with each other, a surprising alternative to the awkwardness she was so sure they’d have to get through. Now, it seems, they’ve taken a step back.

As the morning wares on, she realizes it is not an awkward tension that lies, it’s pure tension and she isn’t sure why.

Kristoff avoids her gaze, not wanting to meet her eyes. She’d watched, as she fed the kitchens as he murmured something to Sven, something she couldn’t hear and the look on his face created a solid form of dread sitting in her stomach.

Something was wrong, and whatever it was he was keeping it from her.

He continues to stay silent during their come over of the garden, only murmuring a yes at her offering to go to the river.

It’s then, on their way down, that she finally snaps, completely done with it all.

“Enough of this.” She demands, pulling her hand from his, coming to a stand still on the path. He stops then, a step in front of her. He looks at her confused and it only makes Anna more angry. “What is wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Don’t lie.” She says, arms crossed now as she glares. “You’ve acted distant all day, you won’t even look at me.” At that, Kristoff’s shoulders slump, his confusion falling from his face. “What is it Kristoff?”

The silence annoys Anna but she fights the urge to say anything. She can tell that he is thinking, working through what it is he has to say.

Though the words seemed to come easy when writing, speaking them was a whole other thing for Kristoff. He needed time, a moment sometimes to really get his words in order to be sure he said the right thing.

This was most definitely one of those times.

“I have to go back to Arendelle.”

He looks at her as he speaks, regret in his eyes, worry on his face and the dread that was sitting in Anna’s stomach grows in size, enough to make her nauseous now.

She knew it was coming, feared when the moment would come but it was too soon. They needed more time, just a little more time.

“Why?” Anna manages to say, a lump forming in her throat.

“I have a business to run.” He says, “I have deliveries to make that I have to tend to. Plus, we are running low on supplies I...I don’t have a choice Anna.”

Anna nods, looking down at her shoes, “Ok.” She says, clearing her throat as she looks back up to him with a small smile, “So a day's trip, then?”

“Anna…”

She knew it wasn’t a one day trip. He tended to deliveries on the daily, having multiple shipments to make throughout the week. The fact he’d been able to put them off this long was a miracle in of itself. She wondered how much it hurt him, how much it cost to take so much time away to be with her as it was. To be away from potential income, from money he very much needed.

Anna doesn’t realize she’s begun to cry until he comes to her, wiping his thumb gently along her cheeks to wipe her tears away.

“I won’t be long.” He whispers, “I’ll try to be as quick as I can.”

Anna shakes her head, closing her eyes, “That’s not what I’m worried about.” She opens her eyes to find him confused once more, and her lip wobbles as she speaks, “The princess...I’m missing, Kristoff.”

It’s then realization hits him, his eyes widening in understanding.

The princess of Arendelle was gone, missing in the night. There was no doubt a search would be made, an effort to find her. Especially with a prince on his way to retrieve his bride in weeks to come.

They could be questioning every villager, every merchant, every sailor and ice harvester alike. Including Kristoff, especially Kristoff. No doubt word would get around that they were friends, that they may have been close. They’d want to ask him, talk to him, see what he knew.

Would he be able to lie? To keep the secret that waited for him at his cabin from them?

Anna had faith he would but the risk was still there and so was the guilt that he would have to risk this all for her.

What if they wanted him to come to the castle, to be questioned by the Queen, her sister?

What if they’d questioned Gerda, able to manipulate the truth from her?

What if they were just waiting for him to arrive, already knowing he was a part of it somehow, to take him away, to lock him up never to see daylight again?

What if…

It’s then she feels his thumb brush of her lip, realizing that she had spoken all her thoughts aloud through her tears.

She looks up at him, his eyes so soft, always so soft for her and it makes her heart hurt at the idea of never seeing those eyes again.

“No more ‘what if’s’ ok?” She nods, tears still falling freely. He smiles softly down at her, “If we want to keep suspicions off of me, I have to go back to what I did before. I have to go back or they’ll know something is up.”

“But what about..”

“I asked for this week a while ago.” He says, knowing what she was going to question. “They won’t suspect anything from it.”

“Are you sure?”

Kristoff sighs, his smile falling and he leans down to her. He kisses her, soft and gently, his tongue running along her lower lip. Not for the first or last time, a spark shoots up Anna’s spine at the feeling.

She grabs hold of his wrist, trying to force herself to focus on his lips, on his kiss, on the feel of him and nothing else.

He pulls back, just enough but still leaning his head against hers.

“I knew what I was getting into the moment I said yes.” Kristoff says, “I knew the risk, and I still took them, I’m still willing to take them. For you Anna, I’ll do it for you.”

The tears come again, forming in her eyes at his words. Anna goes to apologize, opening her mouth to speak but he shakes his head.

“No, don’t you dare apologize.”

She can’t help but smile, trying to fight back the laugh that wants to escape at the notion he could already read her so well.

Instead, she bites her lip, and says, “Just come back to me, please.”

This he didn’t expect, as Kristoff pauses. He looks at her, Anna nearly losing herself in his eyes before he finally speaks.

“Anna,” Another promise, another one he will make that Anna knows he will keep. It’s comforting but also worrisome at how many promises he has made her. More promises to keep, more promises to potentially be broken. “I promise, swear, that I will always come back to you.”

The rest of the day goes as any other. They sit by the river, finishing the loaf of bread and eating apples they’d found the day before.

The tension is gone, though the dread sits firmly within Anna. She hides it well, laughing and smiling that she nearly fools herself that everything was ok.

It’s when the evening comes, as they sit by the fire that the fear returns at full force. Anna can’t help but wonder if Kristoff can hear how her heart hammers in her chest, how she has watched him all day. How she has tried to engrain the image of him into her mind just in case.

She doesn’t doze off by the fire tonight, instead she is awake as he carries her to the bed. Instinctively, she curls up to his side, wrapping her arm around him as much as she can. She nuzzles her head into his chest, willing herself to remember how he feels, how he smells.

Kristoff falls asleep first, the hand that was stroking her back stilling and his soft snores following soon after.

Anna stays awake, moving her head gently to look up at him.

She takes in the view, the image of him so at peace, and wills herself to remember.

As she falls asleep, she hopes, prays to whatever gods there are that they will allow him to keep his promise.

#kristanna #kristoff #anna #with all my love #jessica writes

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rockandrollfool · 3 years ago

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Grief And The Healing Power Of Music

I find myself in the rather weird position of having listened to three Genesis albums in the last week. I am not complaining, however they are not normally a band I would listen to. As a grown man and consenting adult it would appear I gave myself permission to exercise this choice. Autonomy can be a bind and extremely confusing at times like these.

I am well aware of why this has happened. My Mother died less than two weeks ago and I now find myself revisiting songs, albums and artists from my teenage years. Tully (2017) suggests that music can have a role in helping a bereaved person accept death ‘as part of our everyday lives’ and more importantly, we then find meaning through the experience of grief. I dispute the concept of meaning as for the last fortnight I have felt lost, overwhelmed and more than a little confused. I am aware however that grief is linear, in that, it has stages and we navigate these in whatever order is relevant to each of us. Genesis though?

I haven’t listened to Genesis in a mighty long time. Well why would you? The ‘progressive rock’ movement left a nasty after taste for me, and therefore I ‘progressed’ on to pastures new and genres that gave voice to a political awakening. You might like Pink Floyd, Yes, Camel and Van Der Graf Generator but they left me cold and I never understood the reverence and undying love many of my friends had for this music. I still don’t. The progarchives.com offer that by definition ‘prog’ was “a mostly British attempt to elevate rock music to new levels of artistic credibility” (on-line) and bands at the time tried to push ‘rocks technical and compositional boundaries’. No honestly they did. Honestly.

In 1978 I was already besotted with punk and the clarion call to ‘never trust a hippy’ aimed directly at Richard Branson, or so it felt, owner of Virgin Records, who would and should shoulder full responsibility for the awful Mike Oldfield album, Tubular Bells. I digress though.

Heather Fellows (2020) makes the case, that music can offer ‘a safe space to feel the emotion of loss’. Those three to four minutes represent a beginning, middle and an end where we can bawl, yelp, shout and cry knowing we are contained in that time and space, safe and in turn we have sanctuary. Fellows talks about music being the outlet for the big emotions, arguing “when we listen to music that moves us, it’s hard to avoid our feelings. This can be a good thing” Fellows (2020). Through grief we can lose the sense of who we are and therefore identity can be transient. We are a child, sister, brother, friend, parent and the competing demands of these roles during a time of loss and bereavement can create a whole set of other feelings and a personal agenda which we struggle to reconcile. With this in mind music can reaffirm who we are and more importantly re-establish our spiritual roots, a reminder of self, of purpose and where we came from. Genesis though?

DiMaio (2017) argues that research conducted by O Callaghan (2013) evidences a highly nuanced relationship between people that are bereaved and music. The findings evidence that 70% of people involved felt that music helped them find “meaning and beauty in life” after the death of someone close. Equally people found that music helped confront pain and find meaning at a time when logic felt in very short supply. The participants were able to share stories, memories, thoughts, feelings and insights related to music and grief. In most cases people were able to confront their pain, adapt to loss and continue to develop a bond with the person that has died.

I cannot attribute any of the above to my current on-going audio relationship with Genesis. The 1978 album “then there were three” (Virgin Records) has proved quite a ‘rock’ in terms of support a and mechanism to revisit some of my memories of my Mum and particularly how those are located within the context of our family home. I find myself back in my old bedroom and music seems like the passage and avenue to how I now understand the world.

I would love to claim all those cool cultural reference points that others so frequently throw into conversations when considering their teenage influences. However it’s feels like I was adrift on an ocean all of my own making. Boston, The Electric Light Orchestra, Kansas, Cheap Trick, Sweet, Wizzard, Slade, T.Rex and Bowie, are not really the stuff of the cool kids at the time. Not too sure they are now.

I recently penned a piece regarding the lead singer of Boston, Brad Delp. I now know exactly why. I was readying myself for all that was about to happen. Don’t get me wrong I will stand by that first self-titled Boston album until the day I draw my last breath. However in the context of my Mum’s death I can’t help but feel that Brad, and the rest of the Boston chaps were steadying me, and reminding me that my life is so much ‘more than a feeling’ (Epic Records 1976). I could listen to that album track by track over and over. It’s a soundtrack isn’t it and a gentle reminder of the teenage Brian Mitchell and his Mum. The never ending threats regarding what would happen “if I didn’t turn that racket down’.

Tousley (2017) argues that people have known for hundreds of years that music can touch the soul, and it can heal us in the most profound of ways. It helps us remember the person that has died and it can bring ”balance, peace and harmony back into our lives, even if only for a moment” (griefhealingblog.com 2017) That seems to make sense, right here and now to be fair. I am still not too sure about the Genesis thing though.

As an aside, whilst listening to the album ‘then there were three’ in the car, I pulled up at some traffic lights and became acutely aware I had the widow down and anyone in the immediate vicinity would have heard ‘snowbound’ or ‘scene’s from a night’s dream’ emanating from within the vehicle. Needless to say I quickly turned down the volume and raised the window. I am not that ‘out and proud’ I’m afraid.

For now though I feel connected to my Mum. I always will. In the blog songsoflossandhealing.com the author argues that music ‘speaks simultaneously to both body and mind’ (2021) and that through listening to songs and tunes it allows us to really connect with “the indelible part in you that a loved one leaves in you and allows that part to live on through music” (2021) I adore this. It resonates on so many levels. It also explains the Genesis thing. So messrs Phil Collins, Mike Rutherford and Tony Banks, I’ll follow you, no need to follow me though chaps. I had very little credibility to start with. Don't take what shred of self respect I have now, if that is ok?

Blog dedicated to Joan Mitchell – My Mum

Much love

The Rock And Roll Fool

#prog rock #griefandloss #pop music #rockandroll #rock music #punk music #alternative #healing

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arcticdementor · 4 years ago

Link

Angelo Codevilla is one of the most vigorous polemicists in American politics. He is one of the pioneers of based politics — eyes open to the madness of the times, heart on fire. He doesn’t hide the bad news or the ugly truths. The FBI and CIA are rotten, the military is corrupt and being turned against America as we speak, elite institutions are now in the power of a minority that hates most of us openly. But he also doesn’t run away from politics into cultural commentary or metaphysics. We have a fight on our hands and we have to want to fight in order to find the leaders willing to risk everything on our behalf.

…

What follows, is an edited version of our conversation, recorder on March 18th, 2021.

…

Titus Techera: Sir, you write about we the democracy destroying the oligarchy. Where do we start?

Angelo Codevilla: Well, the very first thing is: Take away respect. Cancellation is inherently a two-way street: They’re canceling you and you are canceling them. You can’t simply say: Oh, let me in, let me in! No, you say: You don’t like me? Guess what? I don’t like you either. Buh-bye!

The number one practical problem we’re facing is inherent in oligarchies, namely that state powers, public powers, are being wielded by ostensibly private organizations. You try to fly in an airplane without a mask and you’re in trouble. You go into a national chain store without a mask and they try to throw you out. Well, the only way to deal with that is to do it en masse, and to say: OK, starting on April 1st, if this store, airline, or whatever tries to enforce masks on anybody, it will be boycotted by everybody. Thank you and good night!

…

This is one of the things we are shocked most to see happening around us: Supposedly private corporations busy as bees in the free market are in fact private political authorities. Privilege is the right word, because it means private law. Any corporation big enough can now act like it’s a feudal fief in the oligarchy, lording it over mere serfs who don’t dare talk politics. How do we get back from serfdom to political protest?

There are all sorts of examples out there already. They’re not particularly happy examples, but ever since 1964 [the Civil Rights Act], if you own a bakery or a lunch counter, you cannot turn away someone for service, on the ground of race or anything else. Public accommodation law means that if you are open to the public, you must serve the public, period. Now, it’s entirely logical to add political statements to the list of things that may not be discriminated against. There are all sorts of things that can be done, but all of these things take leadership, and that’s what we haven’t got.

Yes, we should make it the law that being a normal citizen isn’t a crime you can be punished for. No power can discriminate against ordinary people, indeed. It seems much of your polemic is trying to remind us that we should behave with self-respect, to not let ourselves be trampled.

Yes. Look, politics is inherently a collective activity. For example, during the Occupation in the 1940s, Charles de Gaulle warned the people against individual acts of resistance. This is something I’ve pointed out before: Don’t do these things individually, do them only as part of a larger national political enterprise led by… Well, at that time, Charles de Gaulle.

What we need here is for someone to step forward and say: “I will lead the Deplorables out of slavery in Egypt, yeah? And I will organize: Follow me!”

…

But again, the condition for that is that some prominent person — or two, or three, or four — stepping forward and saying: OK, this is the way it’s gonna be. Follow me and we’ll wreck these bastards! You know: Follow me and I’ll take you out of here. Right now, the closest we’ve got to this is Gov. DeSantis of Florida. The other one is Gov. Kristi Noem of South Dakota… [The interview took place before Gov. Noem vetoed a bill intended to protect women from trans-gender competition in school athletics.]

But there has to be national-level leadership. That’s the way it’s always been! Think back in the 1780s and 90s, there were a whole bunch of Washingtonians. Well, there wouldn’t be any Washingtonians without Washington — there wouldn’t have been any Jeffersonians without Jefferson — any Jacksonians without Andrew Jackson. And on and on and on. The reason that the country was rallied as it was to stop the spread of slavery had a lot to do with Abraham Lincoln, who stepped forward and made the argument and sustained it.

…

We talk politics each from his isolated perch on top of a computer, and we don’t see how people might come together in revolt. It seems like all the powerful institutions are against us and we have no memberships or contracts to trust in. We need some way of organizing so we can be less scared of our individual vulnerability. We tried with the Trump rallies and what do we have to show for it?

Donald Trump was something like that, except that Donald Trump barked a lot and bit only a little. You know, you can’t go around saying big things and then letting the bad guys run all over you.

…

That’s maybe the strangest thing happening to us. There are so many of us, yet all so vulnerable to cancellation, to threats of losing jobs, or just losing job opportunities. The internet should mean we can band together, communicate, but it’s not happening yet. The only organizations up and running are the ones trying to indoctrinate us into woke.

If you don’t go to one of these sessions where you’re told about white privilege, you’re fired? Alright, but if your national leader has organized ten thousand or one million people to protest on a particular day, well, then it’s different. In that situation, you’re in power, they’re not. You simply can’t fire everybody…

So we need organizations just so people can go on with ordinary life without feeling afraid?

Look, in politics, as well as in economics, there is a law of supply and demand. Put yourself in the shoes of someone with national ambitions on the conservative side of things: Well, you know what you’ve got to do! Number one, get out in front — number two, you know that you’ve got to actually deliver safety.

It took the political strife after 2016 for people to realize how much demand there is for safety on the conservative side. Does this create opportunities for the leaders now only beginning to come up?

That’s right. They know they’re not going to go anywhere by being recycled versions of Jeb Bush. Or Mitt Romney, or McConnell… If you have national ambitions and you present yourself that way, you’ve just committed hara-kiri! The only way you’re going to go somewhere is by being literally to the right of Donald Trump. And I don’t mean in terms of rhetoric, I mean in terms of real leadership for real safety and promotion of our way of life.

…

I wrote an essay for American Greatness, Clarity After Trump. Clarity means a lot — there’s no doubt about what’s going on. I mean, cancellation of Dr. Seuss? You gotta be kidding me! Bugs Bunny? No, no, no — that’s not normal in anybody’s book. Even the president of France, Macron has said that this movement coming out of America [Critical Race Theory] is a danger to all countries, to all people…

There was a time not long ago when the woke left was claiming that their culture, what they’re pushing, was inclusive, and it was really the culture of cultures — that it was friendly to all cultures. Well, the truth, as it turns out, is now pretty indisputable: the woke movement is the reverse of all that; a very, very peculiar culture that is meaningful only to a very small number of people.

So is this the revolutionary woke democracy, where the demos is the first to be excluded?

Yes, politically and culturally they have painted themselves into a corner and the corner is getting smaller and smaller. They hold all the power, but the number of people on whose behalf they wield that power is small and shrinking.

…

But let’s now go back to the original question: What is to be done? It would be counter-productive for the right to struggle for control of the institutions, because those institutions are now so thoroughly identified with the people who run them that it’s extraordinarily difficult to unseat them all and reseat other men. Plus why should we even try? Why not just make our own and say: OK, you want Facebook and Twitter to be organs of wokeness? Take it, all yours, now go away! Except none of us are going to be involved with them…

…

You said we need to deny respect to those who would humiliate us. But another part of the problem is that conservatives are learning, shocked, that institutions they used to believe in, above all law enforcement and the military, are at least at the top corrupted and against conservatism. Something that has been going on for a long time.

Oh, yes. Absolutely. You don’t hear it anymore, but up until recently, you could turn on the Hannity show and hear: “Oh, these wonderful policemen! The police are on our side — the police, the police, the police, the police…” No, no, and no! The police work for whoever pays them and that is the problem. The police will taze a lady or arrest somebody because they violate what the mayor or the governor says ought to be done. So — no!

It was in the news the other week that Tucker Carlson was being criticized by various generals and other high officials in the military. How do we come to grips with these big national problems?

As far as the armed forces are concerned, this cannot be allowed, and the way to disallow it is for conservatives to vote as a bloc against appropriations for the armed forces. Not so long ago, bills that fund the armed forces used to come in many pieces and each of the pieces was voted on separately. There used to be personnel account, a military construction account, weapons, etc. That used to give a great deal of power to whoever would make a point out of particular problems. Now, these terrible personnel policies are in the process of ruining the armed forces. If conservatives can protest the bundling of all military appropriations into one lump, and if they can go back to the system of having hearings and votes, they can darn well kill or cut the personnel counts.

…

Sure, but the Senate it’s mostly a free enterprise institution. I served in the Senate for eight years [as staff] and I know for a fact that whoever is bloody-minded, whoever really has a bug up his rear, and really wants to have something done, can have his way, because most people will not oppose him. Those who are really interested in something generally can get their way.

And so it should encourage ambitious politicians to pursue something of great importance to their electorate. Can a Senator become the voice of the people by denying approvals?

Yes, that’s it — you just put your finger on it: Denying something is a lot easier than affirming it. Saying no in Congress is a lot easier than saying yes…

…

We have ended up in an America where the former director of the FBI or of the CIA can turn into a partisan pundit on MSNBC, and people don’t even blink. How is this possible, for such high officials?

Well, this is the problem. See, Donald Trump was a jerk, a complete jerk. He could have stopped that instantly. There are laws on the books — black letter, clear as a bell laws — against these people even mentioning or hinting at information obtained through communications intelligence. Those laws, unlike the Espionage Act, do not require all manner of proof about intentions or anything like that. They are what are called strict liability laws. You reveal or purport to reveal something gained through communications intelligence — you go to jail, period.

Now, Donald Trump could have appointed — should have appointed — an Attorney General to do exactly that. This is black letter law, not legal reaching — this is plain black letter law. He didn’t do it! He was scared of the agencies. This is one reason why I think the prospect of Donald Trump running again would be a disaster. Tell me, Donald, what are you going to do now that you didn’t do your first time around?

…

So this would seem to be the most important thing we have achieved: Political clarity about just how serious the problem is. Couldn’t we say that this is a reason to hope? Isn’t this is how American politics works: Each major change in our politics has begun with an attack on centralized oligarchy, usually in Washington D.C. This is how Jefferson did it, Jackson, and Lincoln. This is what Reagan did, too.

Yes, and again, I hate to sound like a broken record, but it’s leadershis, leadership, leadership.

…

That’s right. Donald Trump handed the keys of the country to Anthony Fauci. We can’t say: Oh, the left, the left, the left! Trump did it!

The point that I made in the original Ruling Class essay, is that this ruling class is a bipartisan thing — the oligarchy is a bipartisan thing, which is why we have to sort of exit these institutions and forget about a lot of so-called leaders. The nicest thing about the 2016 election happened during the primaries, when it was impossible for anyone to get traction who wasn’t against the ruling class. So it really came down to two people: Trump and Cruz, and Trump won because he was more adamant. Never mind that it was a multi-candidate field and in a multi-candidate field, the choice is never between A and B.

In the future, it’s not going to be any different. The only people who are going to get any traction are people who are going to make Donald Trump look like a moderate.

…

Victory has to be bold.

Look at Nancy Pelosi. Back in 2009 when Obamacare was being cooked up, some reporter asked her: In what way is this constitutional? And her answer was: Are you kidding? I don’t give a damn whether it’s constitutional or not. We’re gonna do it!

Nobody follows an uncertain trumpet. That’s why the motto of the Marine Corps Officer Candidate School is: Ductus Exemplo, “Leadership by Example.” Follow me!

#titus techera #interview #angelo codevilla #im1776 #leadership #definitely some overlap with that moldbug piece #read the whole thing

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jaybug-jabbers · 4 years ago

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Meal Ideas for College Students

Ok, so. As a college student, I’m compiling my own list of easy meal ideas. I have a bad habit of skipping meals, like many students do. A list of ideas helps a lot when you’re busy, stressed, tired, and/or not feeling up for much.

This post will prioritize quick/easy meals, ideas for relieving meal monotony, food that gives energy that sticks with you throughout the day, and meals that are generally healthy and balanced.

Note: This list of ideas was made with myself in mind. Everyone has their own dietary needs and/or preferences to keep in mind! Still, you might find something useful here. :) Also, check out my other post of recipes for more specific ideas.

Lunch/Dinner Ideas

1.) Soup/Salad/Sandwich.

-Not many canned soups are worth eating in my opinion, but a few taste acceptable (split pea’s pretty good), and sometimes grocery stores have containers of fresh soup. Those are almost always better tasting then canned!

-Salads ideally are more then just plain romaine lettuce and croutons/salad dressing. They can have all kinds of crap thrown on: nuts, seeds, tortilla strips, dried fruit, fresh sliced fruit, cheese, chicken, even some pasta noodles.

-It’s better to buy heads of greens and wash them yourself, as the already-washed bags of greens go bad quickly and have been prone to e. coli outbreaks. A little salad washing bowl speeds up cleaning greens. In either case, try to get a mix of darker, vitamin-rich greens.

-Sandwiches can use the healthier lunch meats but also leftover cooked chicken, or just a grilled cheese sandwich. (Use different kinds of sliced cheese.) Fancy mustard, pesto and horseradish can really punch up a sandwich; so can bread that actually tastes good.

2.) Pasta.

There are a lot of options of what to put on top of pasta; just adding some marinara sauce to spaghetti noodles is only the beginning.

-If you do use red sauce, I suggest adding mushrooms, sliced sausage or ground meat, or lots of cheese on top to bump up the protein.

-If you do something else, stir-frying some veggies (fresh– zuccini, mushroom, celery, carrot, snappeas, etc. frozen– frozen stir-fry veggie mix) and adding a light sauce is good; even dumping vinegarette salad dressing on it can be tasty.

-Other options include frozen shrimp, meatballs, leftover chicken, tofu or a cheese casserole.

-Try other kinds of pasta noodles, because even that can relieve some food monotomy. You can even use cheap ramen noodles, because why not? Just skip the spice pack they come with and add other things instead.

-Raviolis or tortillinis are also great for a light dinner or lunch.

-Sides for pasta include bread/garlic bread, salad, and fruit.

3.) Tacos/Burritos/Tostadas.

Canned beans, cheese, a bit of shredded lettuce, some jarred salsa, a tortilla, presto. Also great for using leftover ground meat or baked chicken. If you are lucky enough to own an avacado, please use it for this.

4.) Nachos.

This is basically when you have canned beans but you ran out of tortillas. Dump everything on top of corn chips instead.

5.) Enchilada Casserole.

Ground meat (or shredded chicken), canned black beans/red kidney beans, shredded cheese, canned enchilada sauce, corn tortillas, and a casserole dish. Dense and lasts you for a long time. Freezes well, too.

6.) Baked chicken.

There’s about a million different ways to prepare chicken. What’s more, the leftovers are so useful for so many things.

7.) Homemade pizza.

-They sell those kits at the store with the shell and the pizza sauce all ready. Just add your desired toppings and cook. A million times better then frozen pizza and worth the five extra minutes of work. You’ll need to invest in a large cutting-board and a pizza cutter or a large knife, but that’s it.

-If you want emergency personal pizzas, you can even use English Muffins for the task.

8.) Hamburger.

If you don’t care for ground beef, ground turkey or chicken works just as well; you can cook them insanely fast and easily on a Foreman grill, but still cooks pretty fast in a regular pan too. Adding some fixings goes a long way: pickles, cheese, lettuce, tomato, pineapple rings, etc. Good sides: salad, fries/potato, peas or beans.

9.) Baked frozen fish/salmon.

Again, you’re unlikey to have the time to buy and prepare fresh fish, which needs to be cooked and eaten quickly, but you can buy a filet of frozen fish. Good sides: rice, easy risotto, boxed couscous, broccoli, bread, etc.

10.) Fajuitas.

Steak strips/chicken strips that are pan-fried, plus stir-fried mushrooms, asparagus, zuccini, etc. Lime juice and avacado add a lot of flavor.

11.) Chicken, mustard, mushroom, garlic, spinach and swiss hot sandwiches.

Bake ‘em after assembling them for melty goodness.

12.) Smoothies/shakes.

This is a great addition to breakfast or lunch if you’re not very hungry or running low on food supplies; only if you have a blender, of course. Ice cubes, plain yogurt, fruit (fresh or frozen), shredded coconut, honey, fruit juice or ice cream, and blend. Experiment to find what works best.

Breakfast Ideas

Bulk up on breakfast if your schedule demands it!

1.) Oatmeal loaded with nuts, dried fruit, powdered proteins, flaxseed, and a dash of maple syrup/honey

2.) A plain yogurt parfait loaded up in a similar manner, plus granola

3.) Bagels or toast with cream cheese, nut butters, jam/honey, or avacado

4.) Stir-fried potatoes, potato pancakes, hashbrowns

5.) Low-sugar muffins

6.) Breakfast burritos

7.) Omlettes

8.) See above for smoothies!

General Tips

1.) Always make large portions when you cook so there are leftovers. When you bake chicken for dinner, you can use the leftovers the next day or make a sandwich or a taco or whatever. If you’re going to invest your precious time and energy into cooking, get the most out of it. If you have TONS of leftovers, freeze them in portions that are easily taken out, bit by bit, to use later on.

2.) See if you can locate a microwave on campus. This expands your options for what to pack for food, in case sandwiches a million times a month gets tiring. Pack things into microwavable tupperware or bring little paper plates and plastic utensils. Plastic bento boxes are also handy ways to pack things other than sandwiches. You can even bring soup, pasta, or ramen with you in a thermos.

3.) Frozen vegetables help a lot. You may not have the time to buy, clean and cook fresh veg, but grabbing a bag of something frozen is easy to make sure you have balanced meals. Steam them in the microwave easily in a bowl with a plate on top; avoid the ‘steamer’ plastic bags if you can, which tend to taste gross imo and may not be super healthy. (zapping plastic may create toxins.)

4.) See what’s in season for fruit. That way you can buy cheaper organic fresh fruit such as grapes, melons, berries or even exotics like kiwi. If you get them in bulk and need to use fresh fruit up before it spoils, try smoothies or put them on cereal/oatmeal or even make a fruit salad.

5.) Consider investing in a crock pot or insta-pot cooker. This opens up options for a lot of low-effort recipes, where you can just toss crap in and come back later and it’s done.

6.) Invest in spices. It’s worth the money and effort to get a variety. Get in the habit of tossing them into things. It can punch up just about anything and is way better then just salt. Even scrambled eggs can be punched up with some Sriracha sauce or some spices, or a little bit of shredded cheese.

This is a repost on a new blog. The original post was on Nov 4, 2019.

#mycontent #college survival

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give-me-back-my-rhodey · 4 years ago

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Oh to be a Pirate King - AUgust Day 10

Title: Oh to be a Pirate King

Author: Purple_ducky00

Rating: Mature

Warnings: N/A

Pairings: Rhodey/Bucky/Tony, background Carol/Maria

Link: Read on AO3

Summary: Pirate Captain James Rhodes was looking for a one-night stand. He ends up with two crewmates who make him RICH.

++++++++++

Captain James Rhodes is looking for a partner… or at least a good night’s lay. After ten months at sea, he really needs to get his whistle wet. He walks into the pub and looks around for a suitable person. The busty woman at the bar? No, she’s got tons of men hanging all over her. The man in the corner, taking requests? No, he seems to do this nightly. The woman at the… no, James sees the best candidate. There’s a man who is sitting at the table by the window. Not well-dressed enough to be anyone important, he seems to be the correct amount of everything James would want. He sidles up to the man and asks, “Do you have anywhere to be tonight?”

The man looks him up and down. James could get lost in those honey brown eyes. “Hmm… not bad. However, I have a husband, and he’s buying me a drink as we speak.” He nods to a Navy captain standing at the bar.

James’ eyes widen. He’s a pirate, and Navy captains hate him from the get-go. Imagine if this Navy captain knew James was trying to proposition his husband! “Well, thank you very much. I must go.”

“Wait.” The man grabs his wrist. “My husband and I were talking of spicing it up a bit, if you know what I’m talking about. Why don’t you wait until he comes back?”

“How do I know you’re not telling me to wait here so he’ll try to kill me?” James challenges.

“Oh, my James is pretty level-headed. People hit on me all the time, and he’s never tried to kill them.”

“Even pirates?”

“Even pirates.” Tony’s eyes search his. “I guess that means you’re a pirate.”

“I was curious.” James tries to play it off.

The Navy captain approaches the table with two ales in hand. “Well dearest, who’s this?”

The man stands up to kiss the captain. “Hello my James. This man may be our bed partner tonight.”

“interesting.” The other James narrows his eyes at Rhodes. “And you are?” “James Rhodes. Nice to meet you.” Rhodes holds out his hand to shake.

The man at the table laughs. “Ok, two Jamses? This will not do. You will be James.” He places a hand on his husband’s shoulder. “And you will be Rhodey.” He lays his other hand on Rhodes’.

“Tony, are we sure about this guy? We don’t even know him.” James warns.

Tony shrugs. “He was very respectful of me when I told him I was married. Come on James. Just give him a chance.”

“Fine. Meet us here at 7 tonight.” James looks Rhodey in the eye. “Be prepared for whatever.”

The now-dubbed Rhodey nods. He leaves to make a few purchases. Got to be back at the tavern by 7. By the time he makes it back – a few minutes til 7, both James and Tony are there. He nods to them, and they make their way to the back steps.

In the room, James says, “Ok, these are the rules. Be safe, make sure everyone is comfortable. If anyone says stop, we all stop, ok?” Both Tony and Rhodey nod. “Ok, get started.” Tony pulls Rhodey in for a kiss, unbuttoning his shirt while he’s at it. Rhodey in turn does the same. Once they both pulls their shirts over their heads, they reach for the other’s britches. They both quickly step out of their pants and undergarments. Taking a quick look at James, Rhodey notices he is palming himself through his pants.

Tony pushes Rhodey on the bed and slithers up to suck him off. Quickly James joins the mix, and they take their time working each other up. Once they all come, they all fall back on the bed, worn out. The next morning, Rhodey thanks them for the experience and tells them he has to leave with his ship.

James mentions that no royal ships are scheduled to go out today. He looks at Rhodey to figure out his ship, and Rhodey quickly gets out of there before the Navy captain figures out that he’s a pirate.

Carol Danvers, his first mate, comments on his late arrival. “Did you have fun last night?”

“Not all of us can have our fun on board,” He grumbles. Carol and her partner Maria are on the same watch so that they can sleep together during their rest times.

“Sounds like a personal problem to me.” She grins.

Rhodey spends most of his voyage wondering about James and Tony. He had had such a great time that night. Would they want him back again? Did he cure that want once-and-for-all? He guesses he will see when they return to that port.

After a few raids and a couple bad storms, the War Machine docks again for new supplies and new sailors. Rhodey once again returns to the tavern, hoping to see Tony or James. To his disappointment, he does not see them.

He returns to his ship the next day, dejected. He’s about to walk on back to his cabin when he hears a man’s voice. “Excuse me, but do you know a James Rhodes?” That’s Tony!

“Who’s asking?” Carol demands.

“This is James Barnes, and I’m his husband Tony. Many months ago, we spent a euphoric night with Mr. Rhodes, and he mentioned to me he was a pirate. Well, Jamie and I have had a falling out with the Queen, and we’d like to join your crew.”

“Let me talk to the captain.” Rhodey can hear the suspicion in her voice.

Spotting Rhodey, she walks up to him and asks, “Did you hear that exchange?”

“Yes,” he says. “Bring them on board. I will speak with them.”

Carol leads them to him. “How can I help you?” He is aware of the pinned-up sleeve at Bucky’s left shoulder where an arm had been the last time that he’d seen them.

“Oh, Rhodey!” Tony smiles. “We’ve missed you.” Rhodey looks at Barnes who nods but does not smile. “You see, Bucky lost his arm in battle with a French ship. Now that he can’t ‘sail’ anymore, as deemed by the British Navy, he was forced to resign and is now jobless. You see, I can work for the both of us, but we both hate the British now, so we thought it would be best to join you on your pirate ship if you would have us?” Tony adds a questioning tone to his last sentence.

Rhodey considers. “Do you know how to work a ship?”

“Of course. I am the son of a sea merchant. I have accompanied him on many a voyage. Bucky here does as well, but he may not be able to help in much of the physical jobs.”

“I would love for you to come aboard, and as Captain, I ultimately have the last word, but let me check with my officers.” Rhodey advises. He calls his advisors to his cabin, and they talk it out.

Sam Wilson, the second mate, sighs with relief. “Use the old Naval captain as your second mate. I’m going to sit this one out. Go back to my husband on land.” Carol also gives her assent.

Rhodey is happy to welcome the two on board. Tony is promoted to ship carpenter as they had yet to find a new one ever since Mr. Rocket was killed in battle. They set sail the next day.

The crew of the War Machine knows there are only a few set rules. No fighting between crewmates, consent is necessary, and always obey the captain. As second mate, James has his own cabin. Tony and he sleep there when they are not on their shifts. Rhodey wants to join them, he really does, but they have never asked him again.

He spends a month staying in his cabin unless needed. Even when James comes to help him plot a chart, Rhodey stays aloof and reserved. James doesn’t comment on it at all. Rhodey almost spits out his coffee when he overhears Tony ask Carol. “Is it illegal to sex up the captain?”

“Not that I know of,” Carol replies. “He’s a little oblivious, though. You might have to spell it out for him.”

Rhodey doesn’t here from Tony until two days later. He walks back into his cabin, exhausted from a hard day when he notices there is something on his bed. It’s Tony, dressed only in one of Rhodey’s white shirts and a red pair of lacy undergarments. Rhodey stutters, unsure of what to do. “Do you want me to go?” Tony asks.

“Never!” Rhodey blurts. Embarrassed, he pulls himself together. “Do- uh- Does James know you’re here?”

“I’m right here.” James steps out from the shadows. He also is wearing close to nothing.

Tony kneels on the bed. “We want you to be with us always. How does that sound?”

“You-you mean, like, always? Like, you sleep here with me each night? That kind of always?” Rhodey wants to make sure he’s getting everything right.

James nods. “That kind of always. We are asking you to court us, Rhodey.”

Flabbergasted, the only thing Rhodey can do is nod. He never would have imagined that they’d want him forever. He is sure to shout his approval, though, when James and Tony slowly and sensually give him the best night of his life.

The next day, Rhodey is riding a high like he never has before. He’s sitting in his cabin when Carol knocks on the door. “We are coming up on a merchant ship. Do we engage?”

He’s about to answer when Tony barges in. “Oh, apologies,” he says when he notices Carol. She rolls her eyes good-naturedly and motions at him. “Ok. So, we’re coming up on my father’s prize ship. Can we blast it to Davy Jones’ locker?” He asks excitedly.

“Daddy issues?” Carol comments. Tony nods and she smirks. “I get you.” They shake hands on the understanding.

“If you want it to go down, it will go down. Do you know anything about the ship’s defense systems?”

Tony smiles dazzlingly. “Unfortunately for you, I created them. But fortunately for you, I built a machine to go against their defenses. Follow me, let me show you.” He leads them down to his work area on deck where there is a machine shaped like a large fan. “So, they basically have a force field they put up around their ship. Nothing can penetrate it. I can make us one, if you’d like. The only different thing I’ll need is a sapphire and a ruby both bigger than my hand.”

“So how does this penetrate the force field?” Carol queries.

“It doesn’t. The only thing that can is vibranium spears from Wakanda, and they don’t just give them out.” Tony pats his machine. “This thing will suck all the ions holding the force field together into one area. This will pull the force field to that one area. We can attack the rest. Aim this at the mast, and we can bring the boat down for sure. Usually they don’t have many fighters because no one has yet to cut through the force field, but as this is the SHEILD, he might have some people there, just in case. This boat is his pride and joy. I’d like to see it sink. The best thing about it sinking is he’ll know I had a hand in it.”

James had walked up while Tony was demonstrating and is now watching silently. “What if the Navy catches up with us?”

“Well, it would be better if I found that sapphire and ruby sooner than later.” Tony snarks back.

“Just steal it from your dad’s ship.” James says it like it’s a no-brainer, causing Tony to smile widely.

He kisses James and says, “You are amazing. See, that’s why I love you.” Then, making sure Rhodey doesn’t feel left out, he walks over and kisses him, too. “You both are my favorites.”

The crew gets ready for attack. Once close to the SHIELD, Tony starts up the machine and aims at the mast. Rhodey calls to fire the cannon, and the deck of the SHIELD splits on impact. The crew is up in a frenzy – no one has ever breached their defenses! The battle is quick. Rhodey’s crew quickly ransacks the ship, even pulling the force field parts to the War Machine. Howard’s ship is left burning.

#winterironhusbands #winteriron #ironhusbands #pirate au #poly ship #background carol/maria #i write!

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douchebagbrainwaves · 4 years ago

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OK, I'LL TELL YOU YOU ABOUT IDEAS

Object-oriented programming in the 1980s. If it can work to start a startup. Instead of building stuff to throw away, you tend to want every line of code to go toward that final goal of showing you did a lot of startups grow out of them. Already spreading to pros I know you're skeptical they'll ever get hotels, but there's no way anything so short and written in such an informal style could have anything useful to say about such and such topic, when people with degrees in the subject have already written many thick books about it. Those are both good things to be. I don't mean that as some kind of answer for, but not random: I found my doodles changed after I started studying painting. When someone's working on a problem that seems too big, I always ask: is there some way to give the startups the money, though. What would it even mean to make theorems a commodity? There seem to be an artist, which is even shorter than the Perl form.1 However, a city could select good startups.2

Tcl, and supply the Lisp together with a complete system for supporting server-based applications, where you can throw together an unbelievably inefficient version 1 of a program very quickly. Or at least discard any code you wrote while still employed and start over. But a hacker can learn quickly enough that car means the first element of a list and cdr means the rest. If an increasing number of startups founded by people who know the subject from experience, but for doing things other people want. It could be the reason they don't have any.3 An interactive language, with a small core of well understood and highly orthogonal operators, just like the core language, that would be better for programming. The more of a language as a set of axioms, surely it's gross to have additional axioms that add no expressive power, simply for the sake of efficiency.

One of the MROSD trails runs right along the fault. When you're young you're more mobile—not just because you don't have to be downloaded. The fact is, most startups end up doing something different than they planned. The three old guys didn't get it. PL/1: Fortran doesn't have enough data types. What programmers in a hundred years? Just wait till all the 10-room pensiones in Rome discover this site.4 Common Lisp I have often wanted to iterate through the fields of a struct—to push performance data to the programmer instead of waiting for him to come asking for it. It would be too much of a political liability just to give the startups the money, though. And they are a classic example of this approach. For one thing, real problems are rare and valuable skill, and the de facto censorship imposed by publishers is a useful if imperfect filter.

I'm just not sure how big it's going to seem hard. Often, indeed, it is not dense enough. If the hundred year language were available today, would we want to program in today. Of course, the most recent true counterexample is probably 1960. A friend of mine rarely does anything the first time someone asks him. As a young founder by present standards, so you have to spend years working to learn this stuff. The market doesn't give a shit how hard you worked.

You can write programs to solve, but I never have. One advantage of this approach is that it gives you fewer options for the future. Otherwise Robert would have been too late. Look at how much any popular language has changed during its life.5 Java also play a role—but I think it is the most powerful motivator of all—more powerful even than the nominal goal of most startup founders, and I felt it had to be prepared to explain how it's recession-proof is to do what hackers enjoy doing anyway. The real question is, how far up the ladder of abstraction will parallelism go? Anything that can be implicit, should be. New York Times, which I still occasionally buy on weekends. So I think it might be better to follow the model of Tcl, and supply the Lisp together with a lot of them weren't initially supposed to be startups. It's because staying close to the main branches of the evolutionary tree pass through the languages that have the smallest, cleanest cores. The way to learn about startups is by watching them in action, preferably by working at one. At the very least it will teach you how to write software with users.

Few if any colleges have classes about startups. All they saw were carefully scripted campaign spots. It might help if they were expressed that way. It's enormously spread out, and feels surprisingly empty much of the reason is that faster hardware has allowed programmers to make different tradeoffs between speed and convenience, depending on the application.6 At the top schools, I'd guess as many as a quarter of the CS majors could make it as startup founders if they wanted is an important qualification—so important that it's almost cheating to append it like that—because once you get over a certain threshold of intelligence, which most CS majors at top schools are past, the deciding factor in whether you succeed as a founder is how much you want to say and ad lib the individual sentences. This essay is derived from a talk at the 2005 Startup School. Preposterous as this plan sounds, it's probably the most efficient way a city could select good startups. Most will say that any ideas you think of new ideas is practically virgin territory. Exactly the opposite, in fact. Whatever computers are made of, and conversations with friends are the kitchen they're cooked in.7 That was exactly what the world needed in 1975, but if there was any VC who'd get you guys, it would at least make a great pseudocode.

If this is a special case of my more general prediction that most of them grew organically. Writing software as multiple layers is a powerful technique even within applications. The more of your software will be reusable. Using first and rest instead of car and cdr often are, in successive lines. Of course, I'm making a big assumption in even asking what programming languages will be like in a hundred years? It must be terse, simple, and hackable. It becomes: let's try making a web-based app they'd seen, it seemed like there was nothing to it. Both customers and investors will be feeling pinched.8

The main complaint of the more articulate critics was that Arc seemed so flimsy. That's how programmers read code anyway: when indentation says one thing and delimiters say another, we go by the indentation. You need that resistance, just as low notes travel through walls better than high ones. Maybe this would have been a junior professor at that age, and he wouldn't have had time to work on things that maximize your future options. How much would that take? It's important to realize that there's no market for startup ideas suggests there's no demand.9 You'll certainly like meeting them. It's not the sort of town you have before you try this. This essay is derived from a talk at the 2005 Startup School. I'm not a very good sign to me that ideas just pop into my head.

Notes

Dan wrote a prototype in Basic in a series A rounds from top VC funds whether it was 10.

With the good groups, just harder. Which in turn the most successful founders still get rich from a startup could grow big by transforming consulting into a great one.

There are two simplifying assumptions: that the only way to create events and institutions that bring ambitious people together. A has an operator for removing spaces from strings and language B doesn't, that's not as facile a trick as it was putting local grocery stores out of their portfolio companies. If the next one will be familiar to anyone who had worked for a really long time? One new thing the company they're buying.

If I paint someone's house, the growth in wealth in a bar. I didn't need to warn readers about, just as much the better, but they start to be about 50%. Together these were the impressive ones. Other investors might assume that P spam and P nonspam are both.

All he's committed to is following the evidence wherever it leads. The point where things start with consumer electronics.

If they're on boards of directors they're probably a cause them to keep them from the VCs' point of a press hit, but that we wouldn't have understood why: If you have two choices and one or two, and so on. But if so, or in one where life was tougher, the same reason parents don't tell the whole story. Incidentally, the switch in mid-twenties the people they want.

Trevor Blackwell points out, First Round Capital is closer to a clueless audience like that, except in the median VC loses money. Unless of course reflects a willful misunderstanding of what you care about, just those you should seek outside advice, and this trick, and so don't deserve to keep them from leaving to start or join startups. There is not much to seem big that they only even consider great people.

You also have to do it right. In every other respect they're constantly being told that they are bleeding cash really fast. Probably more dangerous to Microsoft than Netscape was.

In theory you could probably improve filter performance by incorporating prior probabilities. If you have the concept of the reason for the coincidence that Greg Mcadoo, our contact at Sequoia, was no great risk in doing a small proportion of the subject of language power in Succinctness is Power. As I was there was near zero crossover. Some urban renewal experts took a shot at destroying Boston's in the evolution of the next year they worked.

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justjessame · 4 years ago

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Put Me In Coach Chapter 36

Negan was forewarned about Eric and the idea of ME spanking him. His eyes had widened and his dimples came out when I told him what Eric had said in Alexandria.

“Oh, princess, do you want to spank me?” If the look on my face matched my feelings on the subject then he got the fucking message loud and clear. “You look appalled by the thought, Amara.”

“It’s ridiculous, you dick.” I smacked his shoulder, and his grin grew. “Shut up. That doesn’t count and you know it.” I rolled my eyes as I sat on our bed to pull up my boot socks. “The idea that I would want to, much less fucking be able to bend your ass over and lay into it doesn’t fucking appeal to me at all, even if it would make everyone who ever knew either of us laugh like fucking lunatics.”

Negan’s eyes were on mine and he was biting his tongue as I shook my head. “Is that a ‘no’ on spanking me, sweetheart?” I shot him a look and he chuckled. “Damn, and I was thinking I could call you ‘mommy’” I nearly gagged and it showed, by the way his laughter grew. “The look on your face almost makes whatever Eric plans to do during the tour fade into the background, Amara.”

Once I was finished dressing we met Laura and Trey in the main room. Trey toddled over to us, and instead of a beeline to me, he wrapped his arms around Negan’s legs. I looked down at my little boy with a cross between happiness that he was adjusting to Negan’s presence so well and the feeling that I was being replaced by the asshole I loved. Damn it.

Negan reached down and pulled Trey into his arms as naturally as I always did, kissing his forehead and asking him if he’d had fun playing with “auntie Laura”. Trey was nodding and smiling at Negan, listening to him as if he was saying the most interesting thing in the world. I shook my head and thanked Laura, but she shrugged it off.

“Keeping Trey company is pretty tame compared to some of the things the boss asks me to do,” shaking my head at the thought of what Negan could have asked her to do, I almost missed the smile she gave me. “The tour?” It was to Negan and he must have nodded because she started asking questions that made me think she’d be keeping an eye on all of us as we walked around the property.

“Ready, Amara?” Negan’s voice brought me away from where I’d drifted while they talked route and logistics of our tour. He handed me Trey while he grabbed Lucille, and we were off.

Once again, Eric showed patience and calm that neither Negan nor I expected. First we ate breakfast in the main area where meals were held. Negan told us that eating with everyone wasn’t going to be routine, since we had our own space to take meals. He helped me with Trey’s food, seeming to take as much pleasure in feeding him as he did with eating his own food. Then we all walked through the Sanctuary, Negan pointing out the points system, which Steven asked about and what it meant for Eric, himself, and Trey and me. Negan told him that we’d talk about it upstairs.

We learned about the jobs that Negan’s people, OUR people he reminded me, took care of as well as showing us to the infirmary where he asked me if Trey would need a check up. I shook my head as Eric reminded him that he was more than capable of making sure we were up to snuff health wise, but showing interest in the stockpile of medical supplies that Negan and OUR people had created.

We were outside, Negan pointing out the walker security system he’d installed, all of us listening seemingly attentively when I heard Eric clear his throat. Shit, no, not here and now. We weren’t surrounded, not really, but there were more than enough people working in the yard to make things uncomfortable if my best friend chose to make it so.

“So Coach,” Eric started and I felt Negan stiffen beside me. “These dead assholes you have guarding the perimeter,” I felt him relax a little, rookie move, Coach. “Are they traitors and enemies, or are they-” I shut my eyes, hoping against hope that he wasn’t going to say something completely fucking embarrassing. “People who managed to touch Amara’s panties that you’ve hoarded while you were separated. In that shrine you call an apartment, I mean?”

Shaking my head, I hoped against hope that no one heard, but with the way Eric had raised his voice I knew it was a lost cause. “Now that you mention it, Eric,” was that mirth I heard in Negan’s fucking voice. “I plan on adding to the fucking perimeter any fucker who doesn’t LOOK at Amara with the respect owed MY queen, and that shit will get kicked up to a million if anyone THINKS about touching her panties or HER.” Thanks a fucking lot, Eric, you've given him more fucking ideas.

My eyes were closed and my face burned. If Eric had raised his voice, then Negan was fucking bellowing. Damn it. Why was I always the one on the wrong end of this shit? I sighed and opened my eyes to see that we were heading back inside. Thank fucking God, I thought, even as Negan’s lips met my temple.

“You ok, princess?” I nodded and rolled my eyes.

Then smirking because of his favorite term of endearment for me, I looked up and bit my lip. “Princess? Thought I was your queen, Negan.” And that did it, his smile grew wide and his free arm was around me, tugging me closer into his side. “I mean, if they-” I nodded my head toward the people still milling around outside behind us. “Have to think of me that way, shouldn’t you?”

“What did you have in mind, Amara?” His voice was quiet, and Steven and Eric were far enough ahead of us that they couldn’t hear him.

Licking my lips, looking over Trey’s head at him, I smiled and told him that I wanted to know if he was willing to kneel for me. I saw his Adam’s apple bob to prove I’d given him something worth swallowing over.

“Name the time and place, MY queen,” he offered, voice low and dark. “Make it soon.”

While we’d been on our tour, Negan had given the order to the people in the marketplace that he’d be needing a crib. The flurry of activity that met this demand had made the fight against rolling my eyes almost impossible, but a crib was found and I had to admit that it was impressive. Crib sheets were next, and then with another barked word, it was taken upstairs.

When we walked into our rooms, there it was, made up and tucked into the corner of the main room. The one with our family room furniture and I smiled knowing that when he said to make it soon, he more than meant it.

He answered Steven’s questions about the points system, telling him that he and Eric were family, so the points system wasn’t for them. Steven was interested in what kind of jobs that Negan expected them to do and I watched while Negan contemplated the question.

“Eric has medic training,” a nod from Eric. “You can help in the infirmary,” another nod. “Steven you did building shit, right?” Steven huffed out a laugh at the thought that his degree in architecture could be called ‘building shit’ but agreed. “I want you to look over some plans that I have for the outposts. Rick’s people managed to ambush one, and I want to work to make sure that shit doesn’t happen again.” Steven’s eyes lit up at the idea of the project. “See, points aren’t needed because the two of you are gonna pull your weight.” He smiled and I studied him waiting for my job.

“Well?” I asked, when nothing seemed to be coming. His eyes met mine and his smile grew into the predatory one I knew very well. “I am NOT just going to sit here and-”

“Be his human sex toy?” Eric offered, making me glare. “Why the fuck not? God, has the apocalypse turned you stupid?”

I sighed and finally forced my eyes away from Negan’s. “You thirsty fucking-” I took a deep breath. “I’m NOT a sex toy.”

“You’re right, Amara, you’re not,” Negan agreed, but then ruined it with his follow up. “I don’t have to buy batteries or blow you up to get you ready.”

#negan x ofc #The Walking Dead #alternative universe #Smut

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maseqjyati-blog · 5 years ago

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weerd1 · 5 years ago

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Star Trek DS9 Rewatch Log, Stardate 1909.22, Supplemental: Missions Reviewed, “Treachery, Faith, and the Great River,” “Once More Unto the Breach,” “The Siege of AR-558,” “Covenant,” and “It’s Only Paper Moon.” (For Aron.)

“Treachery, Faith, and the Great River” begins with Odo receiving word from a Cardassian informant he thought was executed that they need to meet. He informs Kira (while massaging out her sore muscles after spingball, godamighty) that he’s going alone, and take a Runabout to see if he can find the man. Meanwhile repairs are behind on the station and the Defiant, and Sisko demands O’Brien have them all completed when he gets back from a conference on Bajor. O’Brien is stymied, not having the parts he needs, when Nog offers to get them.

He just needs Chief’s access codes to make the right trades to make it happen. Odo arrives at the rendezvous to find Weyoun, who wants to defect. While they are heading back to DS9, they are hailed from Cardassia by…Weyoun and Damar. Turns out the Weyoun of the last couple of years died in an transporter accident. The Weyoun 6 clone is the defector, and Weyoun 7 wants him hunted down. Damar says they must destroy the ship, but Weyoung 7 knows the Jem’Hadar will never fire on Odo. Damar mentions they don’t have to know he’s on board. Kira calls on O’Brien to explain why the Captain’s desk is missing, and Worf and Martok want to know why their bloodwine is gone. Confronting Nog, the Ferengi explains that the universe is governed by the Great Material Continuum, running like a river from places with too much of a thing to places with not enough of a thing. He is counting on the river to get them their parts, with a little help from Ferengi trade practices. After one Jem’Hadar ship is defeated with Weyoun 6’s command, the Female Changeling confronts Weyoun 7 and Damar about what’s going on. Damar notices that the Changeling doesn’t look right, she looks dried out. As soon as he mentions it, she changes and demands they get Weyoun 6. Six meanwhile, with Odo and cornered by Jem’Hadar reveals that the Founders are sick, all of them. He defected to make sure Odo was ok, and tell him that HE will be the last Founder, and de facto leader of the Dominion if the other die; and opportunity to reconstruct the Dominion as an organization of cooperation and peace. To Weyoun 7 to call off the attack, Six activates a built in suicide pill, and Seven is true to his word. Six asks Odo for his blessing as he dies, and indeed the clone dies in the arms of his God, his faith rewarded.

On DS9, O’Brien expects to be derided when called to Sisko’s office, but Nog is there, as is the captain’s desk, and the repair parts are in the hanger. As they leave ops Worf and Martok appear. Somehow Nog as replaced their bloodwine with vintage 2309, far better quality than what they had before. O’Brien is amazed, but Nog cites the Great Material River, HIS faith rewarded.

The A and B stories here almost get equal time, but there are a lot of great reveals here. The fact the Founders basically uplifted a group of timid tree apes to create the Vorta; the Vorta’s cloning practices; the fact the Founders are ill (there will be some more dire revelations about this later). All those heavy moments balance well with the Nog/O’Brien storyline. Now, I have to tell you. This episode as a toy and nerd collector affected me deeply, and to this day, it is my policy that if someone really takes a shine to something in my collection, I pass it on to them. I like to call it, “casting it into the great material river.” Whenever there is a hole on my shelf, something show up to take its place. I have faith my toys end up in the hands they should.

Kor comes to DS9 to ask Worf to help him go “Once More Unto the Breach.” Kor has been marginalized in the war, and has not been able to seek glorious combat. Worf asks Martok if there is place for Kor, but Martok is incensed. Years before, Martok’s career was almost derailed before it could begin by Kor because the House of Kor was a great one, noble, and Martok was little more than a farm boy. Worf convinces him to allow Kor on as Third Officer in a mission to raid a Cardassian base.

When Martok describes the plan, Kor states it was the same one he and Kang (last seen with Kor in “Blood Oath” way back in season 2, and before that on TOS) against the Federation in the previous century. The crew is overly respectful of Kor, D’Har Master, much to Martok’s chagrin. When the actual fight happens though, Martok and Worf are incapacitated, and Kor takes over, losing himself and thinking he is back in battle against the Federation and Kang is on his way to help. When Worf and Martok retake control, Kor is shamed and abashed, but their small fleet is also being pursued by ten Jem’Hadar ships. Worf devises a plan to stop them, but it will cost a ship. If that ship can stop even a few of the enemy ships, the others might escape. Worf plans to take command, but Kor knocks him out with a hypo, beaming to the bird of prey that will face the Jem’Hadar. Martok monitors the battle, amazed at Worf’s bravery, but Worf appears on the bridge, informing him it is Kor in battle.

They watch amazed, waiting for whatever ships Kor cannot stop to pursue them. None do. Though it cost his life, Kor destroys all ten Jem’Hadar vessels, leaving Martok’s crew—and Martok himself—to drink and sing songs of Kor’s victory, knowing they will see him in Sto-Vo-Kor.

Another great Klingon episode, and a great end for the always entertaining, and slightly mad, Kor. This it turns out was also John Colicos’ final acting role, and what a note to go out on. The heroic battle is pure Klingon here too. The tension between noble houses and minor houses on Qo’noS is interesting, as it will also factor heavily into “Discovery” in its first season, specifically with the House of Kor dealing with Voq, son of none. There are also a few nice moments between Kor and Ezri, who seems to immediately accept Dax as Dax. Perhaps he adapted better having already dealt with the change from Curzon to Jadzia, however even then he was rather quick to accept her. An interesting quirk for someone so adherent to Klingon noble traditions.

“The Siege of AR-558” has the Defiant bringing supplies to a Starfleet outpost in the Chin’Toka system, which has not been easily held. The outpost has captured a Dominion communications array, and hope to crack it, but have been too busy defending it against repeated attacks. On the mission is Quark at the behest of the Nagus who wants a report on the state of the war. It isn’t good. These people have been defending this outpost for five months; two months longer than a tour is supposed to be. They were 150 people, they are now down to about 40. They are constantly falling victim to “Houdini mines,” small floating explosives that hang in subspace and randomly appear and explode, perhaps somewhere you’ve walked a hundred times.

Nog is impressed by the battle hardened humans here, but Quark warns him these are not the cuddly Earthers he knows. “…take away their creature comforts… deprive them of food, sleep, sonic showers… put their lives in jeopardy over an extended period of time… and those same friendly, intelligent, wonderful people will become as nasty and violent as the most bloodthirsty Klingon. You don't believe me? Look at those faces, look at their eyes…" When the Dominion attacks the Defiant, Worf pulls back, leaving Sisko, Bashir, Nog, Dax, and Quark on the surface to help defend the base. Ezri befriends Kellin (played by Lost in Space and Babylon Five’s Bill Mumy) who is trying to crack the mine problem, and they start to work. Sisko sends Nog out on a scouting mission with two of the Soldiers here, and though they get a good look at the Jem’Hadar base, one is killed and Nog loses his leg. Bashir plays Vic Fontaine music as they await the attack, but when Ezri and Kellin get control of the mines, Sisko uses them on the Jem’Hadar, thinning their numbers before the attack. One of the Jem’Hadar makes it to where Nog lies wounded, Quark himself shoots him down.

When all is said and done, Kellin is dead, but reinforcements and engineers arrive, allowing the one survivor of the original group to leave with the Defiant.

A grim and powerful episode that aims to look war right in the face. Quark’s speech I quote here is really fantastic, but comes back to haunt him when he too, put in the corner, is willing to shoot to kill, to protect. Ezri questioning Sisko’s decision to turn the mines they were just condemning on the enemy calls into question what is fair in war, but also leaves you as a viewer to decide if it was the right decision or not. The Starfleet trooper with Jem’Hadar Ketracel White bottles, ripped from his enemies’ bodies, brings to mind the Klingon was saw in “Soldiers of the Empire” with Cardassian neck bones as a necklace. At least it isn’t body parts, but DS9 does not flinch here, and it is a better story for it. Nog losing his leg will come into play again very soon as well. Back on TOS, Kirk would occasionally refer to himself and other Starfleet members as “Soldiers.” Here we see that’s true; makes you wonder if they plan to bring back the Marines we saw in STVI: The Undiscovered Country (the Colonel of course was played by Rene Auberjonois!).

Kira is visited by an old friend, Vedek Fala, in “Convenant.” He gives her a gift which turns out to be a transponder that allows her transport across the sector to the previously abandoned sister station to DS9, Empok Nor. There she finds her Vedek is actually part if the cult of the Pah-Wraits, who feel the Prophets turned their back on Bajor. In charge of the cult, she finds Dukat, who feels since he once housed Kost Amojan that he now has been touched by the Pah-Wraiths, and chosen to lead their people.

Fala shows her the Bajorans here are completely under Dukat’s sway. Indeed there is one pregnant woman, who with her husband have only been allowed to have kids because Dukat has allowed it. Kira is less than convinced, but Fala persists telling her the Prophets have lied about the Pah-Wraits and they are peaceful. Dukat meanwhile tells Kira he has changed, and he loves his people. She points out he has set up some weird simulation of what he lost, commanding a station like Terok Nor, with a horde of Bajorans who love him. This proves startlingly true when the pregnant mother gives birth to a half-Cardassian baby. Dukat claims it is a miracle and a sign, but there are some doubters. He meets with the woman, apologizing for the “weakness” that allowed him to father her child, but when she says no one else knows, he tries to flush her out an airlock.

Kira and Fala come along and save her, but now Dukat must act. He locks Kira in her room and is going to take poison with all of his followers so they can “shed their bodies” to help the Pah-Wraiths enter the Celestial Temple. Kira breaks out and tackles Dukat just as he was going to take the first pill, knocking his from his hand. When Fala hands him just another one out of the box, Dukat won’t take it, and they all realize he was going to let them die and go on. He tells them it was what the Pah-Wraiths wanted, but they aren’t having it, and he has to beam away. Fala meanwhile takes his pill and dies in Kira’s arms, telling her it was because of “faith.”

Dukat going full blown cult-leader is right in line with his arrogance and his ego. It’s just another example to me though that one of the bets DS9 misses is having Kira kill Dukat at the end of the series. Yes, this sets him to as a vessel of the Pah-Wraiths, an Anti-Emissary, but I thing all the personal grudges with Kira deserve a better resolution. And for those who freak out over Scotty building an interplanetary transporter in the Kelvin Timeline, here’s one at work with Dominion tech in 2374, 13 years BEFORE Spock will go back in time and teach KY Scotty how to finish his. For that matter, before the Voyager will show up in just a couple of years with Borg Transwarp tech too. The Kelvin Timeline works if you just look at the details.

Finally, fandom tonight watched “It’s Only a Paper Moon” as a tribute to Aron Eisenberg’s passing, so I made sure I got this far. Nog returns to the station with his new bio-synthetic leg, but it hurts him and he must walk with a cane. All his medical checks show fine though, and he is interested in doing nothing but lying in bed and listening to Vic Fontaine sing “I’ll Be Seeing You,” the song Bashir played in “The Siege of AR-558.” When Jake can’t take more than three days of that song on repeat he confronts Nog, who leaves and goes to the Holosuite to hear Vic sing it. Nog decides to stay and live in the holosuite for a while. Ezri is skeptical, but Vic mentions he will take care of the kid. Indeed, Vic helps wean him off his cane, and gives him something to do by letting him do the casino’s “books.” Nog though seems so comfortable he won’t come out. Ezri asks Vic when he’s going to be done with him, and Vic seems to realize he too has become dependent on Nog; usually, he’s only on for a few hours at a time, but with Nog there 26 hours a day, he is now constant.

Realizing he’s putting his own needs first, Vic shuts down the program himself. Nog tries to get it running again, but can’t, but Vic appears to ask him about it. Nog says he doesn’t want to go back to the real world because he’s afraid, as anything could happen. Vic tells him that’s life, and why you have to seize it when you can, and indeed why he was happy to have Nog there. It’s time though, time for Nog to seize it for real. Nog leaves without his cane, and reunites with his family. Later, back in uniform Nog visits and tells Vic he has a present for him. Nog has made a deal with Quark, and this holosuite will continue to run full time, allowing Vic a life. Nog knows it’s the least he can do since Vic helped him get his own life back.

Bittersweet to watch tonight, but a great episode that takes a long look at the trauma of war and the mental scars that can be far worse than the physical ones. The continued development of Vic Fontaine as a sentient lifeform is interesting, able to control who does and does not use his program. Still self aware though that there are times he is “off.” Aron Eisenberg is of course terrific and this is an important episode for Nog, demonstrating why this was the episode his friends, fans, and family chose to commemorate him.

NEXT VOYAGE: The Orion Syndicate has come back for O’Brien, and somehow the Tigan family is involved. The Tigans are Ezri’s family before she was joined; she comes home in “Prodigal Daughter.”

#Star Trek #Star Trek: Deep Space Nine #DS9 Rewatch #aron eisenberg

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pussnboots21 · 5 years ago

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Jockstraps to Bra-straps chapter 1-2

Chapter 1

It started out as a normal day. Everyone in class 1A was excited and talking about the field trip we had scheduled for today to the Quirk Research Lab on the outskirts of Tokyo. The ride from school to the location of our field trip was uneventful, Mineta was being creepy and drooling over Yaoyorozu from the seat behind her, while Kacchan had been yelling about something or another to no one in particular, I had been slowly learning how to block him out. A lady in a white lab coat was waiting as we entered the lobby to begin our tour, she waved the group over and introduced herself.

“Ahh you must be the famous class 1A, I’m Okada Miho, chief of operations here at the Quirk Research Laboratory of Tokyo.” Dr. Miho said.

I couldn’t get enough of all the people here to have their quirks be analyzed. The main hall was crowded with groups of people, the large room buzzed with noise and conversations. It was pretty incredible, Iida had to nudge me more than once to get me to stop muttering, scribbling notes, and prevent me from bumping into people.

“Pay attention!” Iida scolded as we walked deeper into the lab following Dr. Okada.

Ochako laughed at me as she walked ahead. “Deku pay attention you don’t want to get lost.” Ochako giggled and pulled my arm along to the next area. It was a long hallway with rooms off to the side. Large windows next to each door gave you a full view of each person testing their quirk. The opposite side of the hallway had windows lining it as you looked down into a large room full of water tanks. I pulled out my notebook to write down all the amazing things I was seeing in the test rooms.

The group kept walking down the hall ahead of me, I walked faster to catch up, scribbling into my notebook. I caught up but I bumped into Kacchan, he spun around letting off his regular spouting off something like “Shitty nerd!” or “Stupid Deku!” I wasn’t able to quite make it out as he gave me shove. I hit the glass window over the pool room. The glass shattered around me as I fell. I was able to grab a hanging chain on my way down feeling my shoulder jerk almost dislocating it from the force. I could hear my name being called from above and people yelling for help. The chain was wet. Just my luck. My hands kept slipping until I reached the end. I reached up to re-grab the chain to pull myself back up but I slipped. The air rushed around me, a second later I was underwater the wind knocked out of me from the impact, water-filled my lung as my body tried to fill my lungs with air again. I felt something grab me and pull me up water dripping off my clothes and hair. My clothes seemed to be looser and my skin felt tingly. I registered my back being slapped as I coughed up the water I had swallowed. I could hear my classmates above calling out asking if I was ok. I was wrapped in a towel and lead away by the staff. I was vaguely aware of the people handing me dry clothes and leading me to a room with towels to dry off and change.

Still coughing and hacking but much less so, I started taking off my clothes to dry off better and change. My body felt strange, to say the least. Drying off my hair. I looked around the room to find a mirror. I wanted to make sure I didn’t have any cuts from the glass. Luckily there was one over in the corner of the room. I blinked. I couldn’t be seeing what I was seeing. It was me, of that I was sure but the body my body was wrong. My hair was longer but still, my trade make a mess in it, my waist had more of a curve to it and my chest had breast? No. that couldn't be right. I must have hit my head. I grabbed at my chest, the large firm lumps on my chest were really there it wasn't the mirror. Oh god, I pull off my pants the green tuft of hair is still there but my dick wasn’t. I could feel panic filling my chest. There must have been some kind of quirk affecting the water. Fuck, fuck. I finished drying off and put the provided clothes on. There was a knock at the door as it slowly opened. It was Aizawa, he looked at me and sighed.

“Come on problem child, the company's president Ishii Kazuki is here to talk to you about...well…” He coughed and gave a small nod.

“Oh right yeah I’m done here,” I said

He nodded as I grabbed my bagged wet clothes, tears gathering in my eyes. I went out of the now open door to the long hallway. It was a silent walk as Aizawa led the way down the hall to the meeting room. A group of people in lab coats and suits sat around a table off to the side was medical supplies and other tools for quirk analysis. I swallowed the suddenly larger lump that formed in my throat. The room became extremely quiet as I walked in. I immediately bowed.

“I'm so sorry for causing so much trouble, please tell me what I can do to fix this.” I could feel the tears start to flow freely down my cheeks.

“Now, now there is no need for that it could have happened to anyone. Please tell me are you ok are you hurt do you need any medical assistance Midoriya?’ he said.

“I’m fine but...ummm…. I wasn’t a girl before the fall.” I said looking at the floor

The room filled with murmurs and a few cuss words from the lawyers and scientists. I was lead to a chair on the side as they immediately started asking me questions and examining me.

“We are all so sorry that this happened the quirk in the water should not have been active and been safe for use. We have never seen its effects last this long and the fact you ingested a decent amount is quite concerning as we have no idea how that will affect you in the long term.” Ishii Kazuki said.

My head was swimming as they ran tests and drew blood. At some point, my mom showed up hugging me tight and squeaking in shock once she felt my now plump chest on her own.

My face had never been so red as she began fussing even more over me, yelling at my teacher and the worker demanding answers. Which were answered the best as possible after a few more hours of check-ups and tests, lots of paperwork on my moms and Aizawa’s part, I was given the ok the head back to the dorms. My mom fussing over me the whole. The school had been informed of my new predicament and my room was apparently moved to a different location on an empty floor so I would have space and privacy while things settled.

“Oh honey are you sure your ok?” my mom said teary eyes looking at me.

“I’m sure mom.”

“Ok well you will have new uniforms and we will meet up this weekend to go get you anything else you think you will need maybe ask your female classmates to let you borrow stuff and help out….” She trailed off as I hugged her outside the school gates.

“ I will make sure he… she has everything he needs, as will the rest of the school staff.” Aizawa assured her. Sighing heavily as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“And all the girls in my class will help out too I’m sure I will meet you at the mall on Saturday I promise mom.” I said; With one last tearful goodbye to my mom, I watched her drive home as I turned to walk to my dorm room. Aizawa lead me to my new space without running into anyone and bid me goodnight.

I collapsed on my bed letting everything sink in before pulling out my phone and turning it on, glad I got the waterproof case for my phone. I had so many messages from all my friends asking if I was ok and asking what was going on. I put my phone up before crawling into bed it would be easier to tell everyone everything all at once tomorrow morning. Right now I was too exhausted and just needed to sleep.

I woke up to my alarm blaring, my whole body aching and sore. The events of the day before washing over me as I took in my new room. They had set it up like my room on the boys' side but it still felt different. I took out my uniform but the shirt didn't fit it swam around my new form. This was a problem. How was I to go to class like this? I looked up as I heard a knock at the door. I walked over to the door opening it only be pulled into a tight hug by Ochako. I saw Yaoyorozu, Tsu, and Jirou walk in after her, they had bags and a female uniform on a hanger.

“Oh Deku, I’m so sorry we are here to help you in any way we can!” Ochaco said.

Yaoyorozu stepped over after placing her bags on my bed, pulling me into a hug. “Yes exactly we have all be briefed on what happened and we are ready to help with whatever needs or questions you may have.”

I smiled looking at them, tears already forming in my eyes. Before I could even say my thanks, Jirou was pulling me over and wrapping my rib lower cage with measuring tape, then moved it up to my chest gently measuring there as well.

“Looks like little Izuku has a size 36 D.” Jirou said.

My face flushed bright red as they started talking among themselves, Yaoyorozu was ready using her quirk creating even more things to go with whatever they had brought upon arrival.

“Okay, now Deku listen up, I have made you several different types of bras, from sport to casual and even lounge.” She said holding them up to show me which ones where which: handing me cute looking dark green one.

“This is the one you will wear for today, and now we have underwear for you as well your boxers just won't fit your new frame. I stuck with a boyshort style to help you adjust to the different feel women underwear have.” Yaoyorozu explained.

My face warmed up more as they handed me the new underwear as well. Ochako and Tsu started pulling other things out of the bags and putting them into piles on my bed.

“Ok now change into those.” Said Yaoyorozu looked at me expectantly.

“R.r.right now?” I stammered.

“Yes now, we need to teach you how to put on a bra properly, we don't know how long you will be stuck in this new form so its import you learn to do it right,” Yaoyorozu stated sternly.

She made a good point. My face was red as a tomato as I started to take off my shirt, Jirou took it from my hand while Ochako then started instructing me on how to properly put the sports bra on. It wasn't actually that hard to put it on and I could feel a major difference in how my breast was held now it was much more comfortable. They all nicely turned away as I put my new underwear on they were tight but in a comfy way. They then showed me how to put on my new uniform. The girls had just started giving me tips on how to move around in a skirt when there was a knock at the door and Ashido came in with a pair of tights and shoes. “Sorry, that took so long had a hard time finding the sizes you guys texted me. You sure are extra tiny now aren't you Deku!” Ashido laughed.

We all laughed. A few minutes later we were out of the front of the dorms heading to class, everyone else had already left. I could feel my heart beating harder as we got closer to our classroom. My mind raced. How would others react? Would they laugh at me? I must have started mumbling in my panic as I felt Ochako’s hand on my shoulder. She smiled at me. “It will be ok we are all here for you! Girls stick together!”

“And tonight we will get to talk more and let you vent to us!” Tsu chimed in smiling wide.

I smiled back taking a deep breath as I stepped into the classroom. The noise that I had heard seconds ago coming from the room suddenly died down with a loud collective gasp. Then there was an eruption of chaos and questions from the male half of the class the girls pushed the guys back. Hagakure helped lead me to my seat all the girl creating a shield around me from the bombardment of the males in our class, particularly Mineta who kept yelling something about checking to see if this was real or just a costume or prank. I could hear Kaminari and Kirishima yelling about how cute I was and how they couldn't believe I made such a good girl. Iida was yelling at everyone to get back in their seats as class was to start soon and all their questions would be answered by Aizawa when he got here. Most of the class sat down finally letting the girls relax and start to settle into their own seats. I took a deep breath just glad that it was over. I leaned over to get my notebooks out of my bag when all of a sudden I felt a hand grab my breast. Hard. I let out a scream activating all for one and giving out a hard punch into the offending hand's chest. They flew up and with a crash hit the ceiling, Plaster fell from the ceiling and screams from the class above could be heard. I pulled my arms over my chest looking up as Mineta fell back through the new hole in the ceiling with a loud thud. He had a perverted smile on his face, blood dripping out his nose. I could tell today was going to be a long day.

Chapter 2

The rest of the day was long and exhausting and draining. Male students from all over the school came by our classroom to look at me all throughout the day. After the initial shock had worn off the rest of class 1-A they started helping to control the crowds. The teachers helped quite a bit as well, which was admittedly more help then my classmates. By the time I was back at the dorms I was ready to cry. The common space was empty at the dorms thank god, I really don’t think that I could handle dealing with my male classmates.

Finally reaching my room I opened the door.

“Deku! Yay now we can get this party started!” Ashido yelled as I came in.

My room was full of pillows and sleeping bags. My desk was full of makeup and hair supplies.

“Today was super crazy, and since we don’t have school tomorrow we all figured we would help you feel better, now change into these!” Ochaco said tossing me a bag of clothes.

I put my stuff down by the room and walked over to the bathroom to change. The tank top and shorts were pretty nice forest green, and fit perfectly. Yayarozu was a master of her quirk for sure. The girls were talking and laughing as I came back in.

“Woooo look at you Deku, you are such cutie!” Hagakure yelled jumping over to me and pulling me into a tight hug. I couldn’t help but laugh as she pulled me over to my desk chair.

“ I am going to tame your wild locks Deku!” Hagakure said picking up a hairbrush.

“Good luck my mom has been trying for years. Nothing has been able to tame them.” I laughed as she started to brush my hair.

“Here try this it helps me and we have similar hair.” Hagakure said spraying something on my hair the sweet smell filling the air around my head. I felt her start to brush my hair being very careful on each tangle she came across. “So Izuku, how are you feeling? Have they given you any updates on how long you will be stuck like this?” she continued moving to a different part of my head, starting with the spray again.

I sighed. Looking down at my lap, I could feel the tears start to gather in my eyes as I thought over everything that the Lab techs had said and how the constant leering and whispering I had been dealing with while going about my day.

“They aren’t sure, I ingested a lot of the water so there might be a chance I’m stuck like this permanently. As for how I feel…. well I’m a bit overwhelmed, to be honest.” I said tears streaming down my face as I was talking. “ and Mineta grabbing this morning sure didn’t help me feel better about all of this.”

I felt multiple arms wrap around me pulling me into a deep meaningful hug. I could feel the support and emotions flowing through their arms wrapping me in a blanket of warmth. It reminded me of my mom's hug as a kid after we found out I was quirkless.

“Well from now on you are one of the girls, even if you change back to being male.” Ashido said being the first to pull away. “ and as an honorary girl, it's you get to go first for truth and dare! So Deku which do you chose?”

I wiped away the tears, letting out a small laugh as I thought about which to choose. “I will do with truth.”

“ Aw you're no fun, but fine, what’s something no one here knows about you?” Ashido stated smiling like she just won a new teddy bear at the fair.

A blush filled my cheeks “Well before the change I was gay….. Guess that makes me straight now huh?” I said looking into my hands face growing redder and redder.

“What! No way dude. How long have you know?” It was a resounding onslaught of questions that then continued into further rounds of truth and dare, T.V., snacks, and bonding late into the night. At some point, more plans were made for shopping the next day with my mom all of the girls decided they were going to join as they also need things. It was relaxing and helped me feel better about the whole situation.

The next day we woke up early to a gentle knock at my door, I groggily made my way to my door avoiding my sleeping friends spread across the room. I opened the door to be greeted by Sato smiling at me.

“Good morning Midoriya, I was wondering if you and the girls would like to come down and try some new breakfast treats I have been working on?” Sato said smiling, I smiled back stomach gurgling at the thought of food.

“Sure Sato, that sounds wonderful, give me a few minutes to wake the others up and we will be right down,” I said he nodded at me, giving me a wave as he left to go back downstairs. I closed the door and turned back to my friends who were slowly waking up.

“Who was that Izuku?”Jiro asked rubbing her eyes and stretching.

“It was Sato he has invited us to come down and try some of his new breakfast recipes.” I smiled as I made my way over to get my slippers so we could head down, the girls moved much quicker at the mention of getting to try Sato’s masterpieces. In just a few minutes we made our way down to common still in our matching PJs and unmade hair. The smell coming from the kitchen was amazing; Sato was just putting the last few plates down as we entered the dining area. He smiled giving a small gesture for us to have a seat as he went back into the kitchen to grab the food that lined the counters.

“This is amazing Sato! I can't wait to start eating!” Uraraka said smiling as she took a seat next to me. The other girls agreed, eyeing the counter of food hungrily, as Sato did the finishing touches. Soon we were all eating compliments filled the room at each bite of the amazing treats; by the end, Sato’s face was as red as a tomato. The boys had come trickling in during the meal snagging some of the extra food off the counter and claiming free seats or stools. Mineta was the only one who didn’t come down from his room as he still in major trouble for what he did yesterday and knew better than to show his face right now.

After everyone had eaten me a few of the other girls helped Sota with the dishes and clean-up of the dining area. It was then that the girls said we should start getting ready for our shopping trip with my mom, most of heading them heading to the showers.

“What about you Deku, are you coming to join us?” Uraraka asked draping her arms over me as we walked over to the elevators.

“I will use my personal one that the school gave me. I wouldn’t want to cause any problems.” I said sighing, and looking over to her as she moved to my side.

“I guess that makes sense but hey at least I know where I can go next time all the toilets are full!” she laughed gently slapping me on the back, she exited on her floor and I rode up to my separate space alone. It was my first time being alone since that first night, I didn’t realize how tired and emotionally drained I was from all of this. I looked at my phone, it was still early enough I would have time to get ready and enjoy some alone time. Stepping out of the elevator I felt my phone vibrate, I unlocked it and pulled down the notifications, I had a new email from the Lab. My heart started beating faster as I opened it; I felt my heart sink as I read each line. The test the had been running on my blood samples came back mostly inconclusive and some came back and a permanent change, but either way not to expect any changes for a long time.

I closed my door and sat on my bed tears running down my face. How was I supposed to use One For All now? I would need to learn a completely different style of fighting and who knows what else comes with being a female. Being a gay male female anatomy was never something I took the time to worry about outside of health class. I wiped the tears from my eyes grabbed my bathroom supplies and moved to the private bathroom down the hall to get ready for the day. I was half-way down the hall to my destination when I heard someone get off the elevator behind me.

“Hey, shitty nerd!” Bakugo yelled as I turned to face him. He had an unreadable look on his face as he approached me.

“Oh Morning Kacchan. What's up?” I smiled, hoping that he wouldn’t notice I had been crying. He stopped in front of me and seemed to be taking in my new form. I felt a blush start to crawl across my cheeks as I felt his eyes linger on my chest for just a second longer than the rest of me. “Kacchan?” I asked again breaking him out of his trance, his eyes meeting mine.

“I just wanted to say I’m sorry for causing this….. I should have known better than to lose my temper in a place like that.” He said looking down at his feet. I was shocked, to say the least, I hadn't even thought about how he was feeling in all this, and to be honest I didn’t blame him at all for this.

“NO, its ok Kacchan, I really should have been paying more attention to where I was going, I haven’t once thought of this as your fault. Please don’t blame yourself!” I could feel more tears gather in my eyes as I said this.

“Well it is and I’m coming with you today on the shopping trip. The least I can do is help pay for some new clothes and stuff to help out…… Did they say how long you were stuck like this yet?” He looked out the window as he asked. More tears filled my eyes as I handed him my phone with the open email to read. I could see a frown cross his face as he scrolled. A quiet “Shit” could be heard as he handed my phone back.

“What time are you leaving for the mall with Auntie and the girls?” he said looking at me.

“Around 11 is the plan,” I stated, he gave a nod and headed back towards the elevator. I turned and continued to the bathroom so I could get ready and get myself together emotionally. This won’t change any of the goals I set, I couldn’t let it. No, I wouldn't let it! It’s ok to be sad, my mom made sure I knew that growing up, she also told me that I shouldn’t let the thing that makes me sad hold me back from moving forward and being happy. I will face everything head-on with a smile!

I wiped the tears from my eyes and took in my look for the first time. Nothing had really changed but I definitely had more feminine features. As I stepped into the shower I took a deep breath and looked down to really take in my body. I was glad to see that I kept my muscle build-up as it took lots of hard work, though my chest was completely different. Instead of just hard muscle, there was a large amount of breast tissue. I gulped as I tentatively took my hand and gave one of them a gentle squeeze. It was firm but still soft and supple, I couldn’t help but groan as I squeezed a little harder wanting to feel more of my breast. I took my other hand and started doing the same to my other breast as well. I moved my fingers to my nipples and gave them a squeeze. I moaned at the tingling pleasure I was greeted with from the action. As a guy I enjoyed nipple play while jerking off, I was glad that it hadn’t changed but the sensation was much more intense. I continued for a few more seconds before I decided to move further down, stroking my waist and exploring my midsection before reaching between my legs. It was strange not to feel dick or balls hanging there, I was greeted by soft green hairs and silky skin instead. I brushed my fingers across the lips of my opening. I slipped a finger in slowly pushing further in and pulling out, I moaned and added a second finger. I gasped at the new sensations, moving my fingers in and out faster and faster, curling them and exploring my new hole, I gasped as they hit a particularly sensitive spot, moaning louder as I hit it again and again had to sit down in the shower as my knees were weak from the pleasure; and then my thumb brushed a spot just outside my opening between the folds, I bit back a moaning scream as I touched it again teasing the bundle of nerves while still going in and out of my hole. I started moving faster and faster toes curling and stretching as felt the pressure building as I could feel what I assumed was my climax got closer and closer. Sweat mixed with the water pouring down my body as I reached the tipping point throwing my head back and letting out a moaning scream. My breath was heavy and labored. I leaned back gasping as I came down from high that I created in my exploration.

I washed myself off and stepped out of the shower. I may not be into other women's bodies but I was definitely into my own that was nothing compared to jerking off. I stood in front of the mirror as I dried off, and dressed in the outfit that Yaoyorozu had made for me last night in preparation for today. It was a simple loose-fitting white top and black shorts that came down to mid-thigh. With an oversized green jacket. It was simple and easy to put on with the bra she made for me as well. I smiled at myself, thinking I looked pretty cute. Well, I hoped so at least, I really had no reference for what me a ‘cute’ would be. I took a deep breath as I walked back to my room, dropping off my stuff, grabbing my wallet and keys as I then headed downstairs to meet with the others and let them know that Kacchan would be joining. I was actually quite excited this was going to be fun and a welcome distraction’ today was going to be good.

#kirideku #genderbender #first fanfic #my hero academia

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wykart · 6 years ago

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The Only Person I’ve Ever Truly Loved

Chapter 3 of my Klaus x Dave fic (chapter 1) (chapter 2) ao3

Summary: Allison and Klaus are having a girls night (basically some fluff to follow the previous chapter)

“I wanted to have a girl’s night, like the kind they have on those TV shows. You’re supposed to do each other’s nails, eat cookies, talk about boys – that sort of thing.” It was Klaus’ sister Allison. She’d asked him up to her room that evening after his other sister, Vanya, had shyly dodged the question. He loved watching the way Klaus interacted with the brothers and sisters he’d only mentioned in passing remarks, and never elaborated upon when Dave pressed him further. The children were trapped together in a strange situation; all of them simultaneously held in isolation, and pinned under the public spotlight.

Klaus chuckled, “Wait a minute, and you asked Vanya?”

“Well of course I did, she’s the only other girl here.” Allison replied, pulling a glitter-plastered box off the vanity. Inside was an array of makeup supplies, cluttered together in a heap of half-empty tubes and stray clouts of nude powders.

“I can’t believe I was your second choice when I love literally all of the things you just listed.”

“Actually, I asked Ben first,” she admitted.

“You what!” He feigned distress, draping his arm over his forehead. Allison giggled, that bubbling, contagious laughter that seemed to spill out of her like sunshine. Dave couldn’t help but grin as well. He was standing in the corner of the room, there were other two, silent observers that lurked on the edge of Klaus’ perception. They were quiet, and easy for Klaus to ignore. Dave didn’t make a habit of these little excursions, and, more often than not, the situations he found weren’t of happy sibling bonding like this. It was nice to see them re-creating some semblance of a normal childhood.

“Well it’s okay, the two of them are probably down in the library with Five right now, doing whatever it is that they do.”

Klaus stifled a cough, “nerds.” Allison grinned, and pulled out a plastic-wrapped dish from under her bed – a plate piled high with chocolate chip cookies.

“Well, they don’t get any of these cookies – I asked Mom to make them especially for us, and she put raisins in as well this time.”

“Raisins are a crime, dear sister,” he shook his head solemnly.

Allison punched his shoulder lightly, “are not.”

“Are too,” he stuck out his tongue, teasing.

“Ok, so I wanted to do the eyeliner first, I picked it up from the mall yesterday.” She grabbed an unopened sleek black tube from the box.

“Where’d you get the money for that?” He asked, feigning ignorance, “I know for a fact you spent all of the chore money Mom gave us last week when you bought all those dresses and magazines.”

Alison gave a sly grin, a mischievous look that Klaus loved. “It was on sale, I only had to haggle a little.”

Klaus cleared his throat loudly, “stealing,” he coughed again.

Allison rolled her eyes, “I think Dad would call it… adapting,” she winked.

“Well I think Dad should go trip over a melon,” he grumbled, trying to suppress a chuckle. Allison raised an eyebrow, he’d have to come up with something more outlandish to get a rise out of her. “See, why can’t I have a power that lets me get discounted make up at the mall? All I get is this guy watching me put on eyeliner,” he pointed at Dave, “no offence man,” he added. Dave was surprised that he’d even noticed him there. Klaus had gotten better at ignoring the ghosts when he was around his siblings. He didn’t want to give them any cause for concern.

“None taken,” David replied, simply.

“Ghost?” Allison asked. He nodded, and she was glad to see that he wasn’t distressed. Allison worried about him all the time, that far-off look in his eyes, that deep, churning terror that seemed to follow him everywhere. She wanted him to know that he was safe. There were times when he’d be so overwhelmed by their voices, their demands, that his siblings would yell into thin air for them to go away. They might’ve felt a little crazy doing it, but Klaus was always grateful. Sometimes, the ghosts even listened.

Dave stood there, shifting in and out of existence as Klaus’ attention waned, watching as Allison meticulously applied the eyeliner. She was gentle, and Klaus actually kept his mouth shut long enough for her to finish the job. “Ok,” she muttered, “I think you’re all set.”

Klaus blinked and suppressed the urge to reach up and touch his face. “Feels itchy,” he admitted.

“Here,” she held up a mirror to his face. Klaus posed, angling his face in every direction, winking at himself. Allison laughed. He stood up and grabbed a pink feather boa that was slung around the door nob.

“Alright Allison, how do I look,” he spun around with it draped over his shoulders. He winked and blew a kiss at her, and she doubled over with laughter. He put one foot up on the bed, hands on his hips. He whispered in that way that twelve-year olds think is seductive, “I heard a rumour –“

“Stop it,” she forced out between fits of laughter, “you’re putting my looks to shame!”

He laughed and got down from the bed, swishing the feather boa around in the air. “You know, when you become a famous movie star you have to let me be in all your photoshoots.”

“But of course,” she said, with only a hint of sarcasm, “we’ll be a famous modelling duo.” So this was where he found his footing, Dave thought, the man who somehow managed to wear eyeliner and a cropped military vest in the trenches of Vietnam. It was sort of impressive, actually.

“What about you,” Klaus said, looking towards Dave again, still swishing the feather boa around in circles “what do you think?” There it was, the way he held himself, light and whimsical, as if he were floating through the air. Dave was reminded painfully of the man he’d lost, and the one that this boy would become.

He grinned, “tell her she did a great job on the eyeliner.”

“Well, there you go Allison,” she looked at him, confused, “this dead guy thinks you did great on the makeup.”

“Err, thanks,” she said, unsure. She beckoned Klaus to sit down, “come on, I have to do your nails too.” Klaus grinned and sat eagerly on the bed, crosslegged with his arms outstretched.

Seeping in and out of his life, a spirit in between the world, Dave saw all the things that made Klaus into the man he would eventually become. He saw him bond with his sister Allison over shopping and fashion, saw him train alongside his siblings, always trying to make them laugh, even at his own expense. He saw him with his brother Ben, who was the only one that understood what it was like to have a power that was terrible as well as great, that was a burden more than it was a gift. He saw him beginning to rebel more and more against his father, saw him kissing a boy round the back of the academy after one of their little victory parades. And then, he got a little carried away with one of his cat-walk routines while wearing some ridiculous high heels. He fell down the staircase and cracked his jaw open on the polished marble of the entrance hall.

That moment changed Klaus’ life forever – and not just because he had his usually-talkative mouth wired shut for nearly two months – but because they had him pumped full of painkillers and all sorts of drugs that muddled his thoughts and numbed his emotions. They suppressed his powers. For the first time, Klaus learnt what it truly meant to be alone, and he loved it.

#tua #the umbrella academy #klautz #klaus hargreeves #dave katz #klaus x dave #fanfic #fanfiction #my writing #fluff #allison hargreeves

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