#really vivid image ive had in my head today

[munch-mumbles]

murphy and charlottes favorite game is Killing Papa (standing next to acton and pretending to punch him while going GSH GSH GSH GDGDGDSHH)

[ms0milk]

𝟕 | 𝐇𝐞𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐭

ー✧ prince!bakugou x royal guard!reader

"Caramel hathos fills your mouth when red eyes let you breathe again."

cw remember when i told you to trust me? angry bkg, angry y/n, shouting, some manhandling. repeated use of "sir" nonsexually though bkg does briefly take pleasure in your power imbalance. y/n's patience is unmatched bless her heart. civil teammates -> enemies. my favorite closing lines ive ever written 2.1k

this chapter officially concludes a hymn to black water part 1, thank you for reading this far with me! and have no fear, part 2 will begin next week :) can't take a break from this story who am i kidding it's just getting good

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She’s been terrorizing you for the better part of the evening. Doctor Chiyo Shuzenji, Takoba’s infamous: Recovery Girl. An evening meant to be spent finding clothes and dinner and Prince Bakugou’s guest chambers so that you could take up sentry outside of his room.

How could you begin to thank him? Declarations and taken knees occupy the gray space in your brain between constant kisses and ramblings about antivenom. You’re held hostage on hospital linens with thoughts of protective canonfire rage.

“And when I got back– poof! Injured Alderans keep me up all night, I leave for one blessed hour, and come back to six empty beds.”

There’s nothing you can say to appease the doctor as a plate of tea sandwiches is thrust into your lap and the kisses begin again. Your companions were moved to their permanent rooms sometime in the throne room-interim and you were just as surprised to come back to a hospital empty of their warmth as you were to hear such a commanding voice come out of such a tiny woman. Shuzenji's magic bubbles at the surface of your skin like it would be comforting if she wasn’t so agitated.

“How you even managed to stay conscious is– it’s– you’re lucky the adrenaline didn’t course the poison straight to your heart! And the prince! Summoning you from the hospital of all places–”

“My prince?” You interrupt with half a mouth full of bread.

She shakes her head, “The little Todoroki.”

“I thought I was summoned by the queen?”

“My queen is not so stupid.”

You submit to treatment again quietly and nurse the plate of food Shuzenji had rushed from the kitchens for you. Was Prince Todoroki in the crowd today? Does he look like his mother? Spiderlace has webbed across your image of the queen and naught but her thin silver hair can be seen behind it.

The doorknob jumps as the doctor pours herself into your discharge instructions, and when she thinks the champion is the one trying to sneak inside again she huffs at the opening door,

“Mr. Eijirou, if you interrupt this examination one more time–”

It felt cruel to make Kirishima watch so you told him to go find his room and something to eat after he escorted you back upstairs. You told him that you would be perfectly fine for the night. He poked his head inside every now and then when you made a particularly loud yelp at the doctor’s prodding, but left to go find dinner an hour ago. He even said goodnight and slipped your halberd inside by candlelight.

“Kirishima, really I’m–”

“Eh?”

The grunt opening the door doesn’t match the person you thought had been knocking, and not only that. Instead of Kirishima, and his big soft worry, the prince emits a cloud of vex so thick that you taste metal. He mouths confusion at the scene. 

“Perfect timing Katsuki, you’re next.” Shuzenji beckons him inside from her seat at your bed. He closes the door again wordlessly.

Chasing Prince Bakugou down a Takoban hallway is not going to make it into your daily report, partly because it’s indecent, and mostly because there’s no proper way to recall hunting a prince like game sport.

“Highness, please wait!” Chasing though, is a generous description. You’re more just walking quickly and rather close behind.

As doctor Shuzenji tried to hobble after him, images of the prince hurling diplomats flashed in vivid memory and you sat the old woman back in her seat. You wouldn’t put it past him to launch tiny old women someplace very far away indeed.

“My prince, please–”

“Please what,” Bakugou growls when you’ve finally pushed him past the shallow threshold of avoidance and squarely into confrontation. You couldn’t drown in the shoals of his patience for how very dry they are.

When he stops marching and turns to you his shoes catch sparks before his words do, “You are not my guard and certainly not my companion– leave me be or die.” And the honesty of his violence stalls your image of protection.

The chase has taken you from the hospital wing and into that wide foyer under skylights and for hours now the moon above has effortlessly outshone candles. Competing lights illuminate only white marble and a blue hallway runner, with no other decoration to fight over but the two of you standing in front of each other.

“The doctor,” you slow down fast enough to leave the prince a wide berth but still stumble over words in remembering names, “she– Shuzenji needs to finish her examination. I’m–”

“No one needs anything from me, least of all you.”

Why is he upset? When the prince snaps at you, as he has done a hundred little times over the past few days, he makes a point to swell. He thinks he’s very clever. He’ll dip his chin into the modest curve of your body and tower over you, as if you aren’t already trying as hard as you can to make him feel big.

“It’s important that the doctor sees you, sir.” One of his red eyes twitches a bit by the brow when you call him sir, and you add it to the list of things you’ve done to piss him off, “Please come with me.”

The prince settles with his hands in his pockets, “And if I don’t?” He’s on the precipice of a smirk when he continues, “Are you gonna make me?”

Did Doctor Shuzenji let you chase after him because the headache might kill her? “No,” you frown, “of course not.”

The moon is so bright through the windows above you that the candles can only throw limp shadows across the subtle bones of Bakugou’s cheeks. He doesn't up straight. His broad shoulders round in on you in a generous size difference as you attempt to avoid the eye contact he hates so much. He cocks his head. There are no clocks or bells inside the castle and still the oppressing awareness of time makes you feel as if you are running out of it; fifteen years crush you under their weight in a second. Fifteen years living together in Aldera castle and only two conversations to show for it. Three, if this game he’s playing counts as conversation.

“Go to bed then.” The prince still manages to look menacing in white linen and woolen slippers and he throws words like dung, “Go anywhere away from me.”

When he turns around to skulk back into the dark you don’t mean to say anything at all and you’re sure you don’t. You’re sure you’re only staring after him- watching his earrings catch the last of the moonlight before turning down a dark corridor.

“Why did you come back?”

Bakugou is also sure you didn’t just speak up again, but still he stalls under an archway and creaks his neck back to you all the same. Your question hangs in the stretch of white hall.

You’re hungry, you are delusionally hungry and drunk on Shuzenji’s magic because nothing under heaven, not even the end of the world, could possess you to to pick a fight with this man, and you must have been drugged or, or you’re still exhausted or wounded, anything. The prince is advancing on you now because of course he is.

He’s charging. He growls so low it’s almost a whisper, “Stand at attention.”

Bakugou doesn’t leave any space between you when he approaches this time. His hair has been knocked into every direction gravity will let it fly, but mostly it falls over menacing red eyes and beads of blood between sharp tooth and bitten lip. Jeanist really deserves a medal; even three-hundred miles away, he is right as always. Staring is an incorrigible habit of yours.

“You get concussed in that crowd?” The prince’s voice is still bitingly quiet when he thrusts a palm against your collar to test how much pressure you’ll withstand before failing his orders to stay still. Your dragonbone broach digs into your chest.

“Please excuse me.”

There’s no way to tell how short a fuse you’ve cut for yourself now, so you continue standing exactly at attention, the same way you’ve spent more hours of your life than you’ve spent sleeping. Your fingers don’t so much as twitch with a pulse while you hold them at your sides under squared shoulders. His eyes graze your cheeks.

“Aldera sent me a beaten puppy as a babysitter on mission that has taken years off my fucking life.”

“I only–”

“Only what?!” Bakugou reaches forward and snatches a bit of your nightgown skirt in his fist. You’re jerked suddenly against his chest in his anger, “You’re fucking naked! “You represented Aldera in a nightgown and now you’re chasing me down the hall with your body sketched in satin for any plum, fae, or stray cat to ogle at their shiteating leisure!”

It hasn’t quite clicked, until now. The reason why the prince hates you. He releases your skirts and clenches crackling fists at his sides, “What did I tell you about those creepy fucking eyes?”

You don’t mean to stare this time, and you’ve tried so hard, for days you’ve tried, not to look at him, but for the first time since your bloody meeting in the countryside he is finally, truly, looking at you and the eye contact conjures up nothing but static.

It didn’t even make any sense, how someone you’ve never so much as shared a meal with could feel anything strong towards you, negative or otherwise. But it was clear inside the throne room today and you were just too stupid to see anything past the blue silk cloak gathered like a gift for you in his arms.

The prince was never concerned for your safety. He is embarrassed by you.

“What did I say?” Caramel hathos fills your mouth when red eyes let you breathe again.

You glare unabashedly deer-like from the space between your bodies where ire is so thick you could grasp it. At his eyes, his lovely ash lashes and the downward quirk of a snarl. Bold of him, to call you naked in linens that barely hide his chest.

“Apologies.” And for the first time those words burn when they come out of you. Like a lie. You lower your gaze. Bow your head too.

It is the slightest consolation that Bakugou forgot, in his anger, that he’s pulled you close enough for gold to glint clearly in your periphery. His jewelry is artifact forever in the forest somewhere, so the earrings he’s wearing are yours. His mother’s– your little gold suns jerk and tremble with his temper.

If he remembered he was wearing your charity, he would shout again, but his fury has gone smug at your concession so he presses on,

“Did Jeanist not teach you to say anything else?”

Your fingers twitch at the mention of the name.

“Well? Go on, five days together and you still haven’t introduced yourself to your prince.”

Even with your eyes to the floor you can catch a sneer in the tips of his voice. Bakugou is so close that his breath pricks the skin of your bare neck.

“Put on a show.”

He doesn’t let you move away from him. When you step one foot back he comes one step forward. You take your skirts in subtle fists and bend your knees in a curtsey, and you anticipate his single huff of laughter before it even escapes him.

“Y/n. Apprentice to the Master Jeanist, Head of Royal Guard. Subject of the Alderan Queen, bound by blood and at your service, my prince.”

“Is that all?”

It goes against natural impulse not to watch the thing that is trying to kill you, closely, and it’s a struggle to keep your eyes down when the prince’s body is so close you can count each embroidered stitch of his bedclothes. Years ago, when Jeanist allowed you to work in the castle, on your own shifts without supervision, the queen would stop when her path crossed your post. She’d call your name and you would answer immediately, though eyes down like you’d been told to do. In these early days she crouched in front of you, cape, gown, armor and all, to try and take a peek at your face, or lift your head up with a finger under the chin.

“Pretty eyes, Y/n. Don’t cast them down for anyone.”

Bakugou has your chin now, in a tight hot hand. He jerks your head up hard enough to make you flinch, and gods he’s growling, rumbling like a machine, at both your lack of response and the fact that you haven’t left yet. The pair of you stare.

“Fuck off, Y/n.”

It is your every itching instinct to strike him.

“Yes, sir.”

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tagged angels ✧.* @nnubee @jctaro @nonomesupposedto @zombiewarprincess @kotarousproperty @strawberry-mentos69 @sveetnn @eirlysian @lunrai @km7474 @arayoflia @annoyingleftpinky @noomaisdone @cr33pycrawler @iced-chai-tea-latte @cathwritestragediesnotsins @tragicallygray @idimmadontgiveashit @kooromin @k1tk4tkatsuki @litiri @kiwibao @kiwifujin @mmmaackerel @sarcasticlittlebook @condy-wants-a-cookie @mysticalfridge @dududubebo @falling4fandoms @katanaski @babitchsuki @romiinlove @cherripunch26 @acid-rain27 @madmayo @bakugouswh0r3 @heart-of-haunt @zukowantshishonourback @420mitskilover <- thank u for your sweet comment! @ultracrii

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couldn't tag for some reason :,(

[madxzxz]

ITS SO COLD ITS SO CHILLY the only reason I left my bed was because I had to use the restroom and so when I was finished I instantly got in the shower well not instantly something I never do is run the shower to let it get hot before getting in which i magic maybe but I just turn it on and scurry to the back on my tippy toes so I don't get hit but I couldn't take the risk today because if my body temperature dropped any lower I would have started taking damage now I'm all warm wrapped up by all the drops of water mmm and I'm brushing my teeth and now I'll be able to brave the day conquer it even I have Russian starting in 5 hours and idk if I'll be able to do anything but wait for it to start but that will be enough also something I commonly don't do it wash my legs well only the calves and shins if I am feeling lazy I stop at the knees and skip straight to my feet but I wash my feet separately from my body in part because I might be self conscious about them I have very clammy hands and feet and I cannot wear socks in doors I can but it's not as comfy and my feet are really sensitive to temperature and it will never be a winning situation because I have poor circulation to them so they are naturally cold and on the verge of necrosis so times like these when it's cold is just horrible but as soon as I put socks on they are getting cooked and theyre like help I can't breath its too hot and we're drowning in sweat so sad so sad but i think id always pick uncomfortable cold over uncomfortable heat because uncomfortable heat quickly makes me irritable but also there was this one wuestion abiut being stuck in a hot sandy desert or a cold arctic desert and I forget what I choose and my reasoning id have to get thw question again and fully interface eith it also when i brushed my teeth it gave me a flash of wasabi peas in my mind and I got a craving and the whole time the mintiness was stinging my tongue thats all i could think about but why do they sell wasabi peas in such big quantities how do you eat that many I mean I can the last time I ate wasabi peas I ate like half the bag but my taste buds were singed and I couldn't taste anything for days so like who's eating that much wasabi peas which makes me think of mental images again and like I can't create them but they definitely pop up in my head a lot not of my own creation and if I can its pretty situational like the exercise to close your eyes and picture an apple its really hard for me in that context but if I'm thinking of an apple ive seen in recent memory it gets more vivid but it needs a lot of context to ground it it cant be just the apple it needs to be the fruit bowl and all the other fruit surrounding or the produce isle or a cartoon depiction in a classroom/school kinda setting but then like with the wasabi peas thing Ill just have shit pop inti my head and its like hey remember this isnt it similar to whats happening now and im like yeah actually ive never thought about it like thst thats pretty cool thanks brain there was this one time it's either the smell or taste of ladybugs but I told my dad that the taste of metal is the same as the smell of ladybugs I think that was it and he was like what does that even mean that doesn't make sense why do you have those experiences even and I was like ok I guess I just won't talk to you then lol but then there's also bad images like if something sharp gets near my face I have a chance of getting images of eyes being gouged and it's not that fun and if I go on escalators i have the chance of seeing like final destination type stuff and I have to jump off at the end to get over the metal platform at the bottom or top and back onto the normal flooring

[falryllghts]

nightmares // kaeya x gn!reader

summary: reader has been having more nightmares lately and kaeya does his best to help

hurt/comfort , nightmare is not described (up to interpretation)

your lover stirred awake next to you, lifting his head and rubbing his eyes before glancing over to your form. "you're up earlier than normal, is something wrong?"

---

it wasn't often that you'd get nightmares, only now and then but never usually consistent. last night was the second night that you had a nightmare and now you were starting to let it get to you. the first night you simply shrugged it off when waking up but now as the sunlight poured through the windows, you couldn't get the images out of your head.

you hesitated for a moment. kaeya was good at knowing when people were lying so even if you tried, he'd know. "oh i didn't realize." you decided to ignore his question for the time being seeing as that was better than lying straight to his face.

honestly you'd hoped the nightmares would just go away the following night but that was probably wishful thinking. regardless maybe you were in luck because you found yourself unable to sleep that night. no matter how hard you tried, your mind was on other things. time ticked on slowly and eventually you gave up. just as you were about to make an attempt to get up and leave the bed, kaeya rolled over and faced you. "are you gonna tell me what's bothering you or do you want me to continue pretending that i'm blissfully unaware?" even if half asleep, his voice holds the same teasing tone that it always does.

you almost cave in but you stop yourself, shaking your head in denial. "i really don't know what you're talking about, I've just got alot on my mind lately." you could hear a quiet sigh from him before he accepted your answer and rolled back over.

turns out, you weren't as lucky as you may have thought. you did fall asleep that night only to have another nightmare. you weren't sure what time it was when you opened your eyes but you were sure that it was yet another day that you were up too early. sitting up, you glanced over to see kaeya already awake and gazing in your direction. it wasn't a surprise considering how often he woke up earlier than you but you were sure there was more to it today, as if he had expected this.

he opened his mouth to speak but was caught off guard by you reaching over and wrapping your arms around him. he let you bury your face into his chest, rubbing a hand calmingly on your back. "it's okay to let it out or talk about it." he pressed a kiss to your head and that was the breaking point for you.

it didn't take long after that for you to open up to him and confess that you've been having nightmares. even if he knew ahead of time, he made no comment on it. he stayed close to you and assured you as you spilled out all of the details you've been keeping a secret. vivid images flashed in your head as you rambled on, tears clouding your vision to the point where you had to stop for a moment. feeling tongue tied, you weren't even sure if you wanted to continue speaking.

"it's okay, you don't have to go on. just try to get some rest, im sure this has been bothering you for awhile. I'll still be here when you wake up."

it took a moment for you to calm down enough to respond, quietly mumbling against his chest. "but aren't you busy?"

"ive already talked to jean, dont worry about me. focus on getting some rest."

you did what you were told and shut your eyes. though it took awhile, you eventually fell asleep in his embrace. for the first time in days, you found yourself sleeping well and having a good dream. you were sure he'd tease you once everything was back to normal that all you needed was to be in his arms but right now you didn't care. he stayed by your side the entire time you were asleep and that's all you could've asked for.

[notanacousticsetcal]

speak now - luke hemmings

summary - based off of the song speak now by taylor swift -- highly recommend listening before reading for the full experience.

warnings - none? nerves and kind of public speaking

word count - 1.6k - lyrics not included this time, lemme know if you guys prefer that

a/n - im SO sorry ive been MIA, i have had absolutely zero motivation. this is some trash i wrote a while ago and i thought i would post it while im trying to find inspiration to write something better. its the 5th installment of the song series so you can go check those out as well if you want! also, like i said in the word count, i did not include the lyrics this time around. i think i prefer that but im not sure, let me know if you guys want me to include the lyrics next time and i will! thank you for reading, i missed yall.

***

Your mom’s old pale yellow dress didn’t fit as well as you had hoped but you had no other options, formal events were not a common occurrence in your life. The wedges pinched at your toes and the thin dress straps dug into your shoulders but the soft yellow complimented your skin and you liked the ribbon around the waist so it wasn’t a total loss.

You sucked in a sharp breath, adjusting the dress once more in the mirror before grabbing your purse and hustling out the door. 

This wasn’t happening. You weren’t actually doing this. The girl who feels like she has to throw up before public speaking and stutters over small talk and avoids eye contact at all costs is supposed to stand up in front of 100 people and declare her love for the boy getting married to someone else? You felt nauseous thinking about it.

But you couldn’t sit idly by and watch the love of your life say “I do,” to the snobby girl that put gum in your hair in middle school. If there was ever a time that you would stand in front of a crowd voluntarily and speak, it would be now.

The venue was beautiful. The church had vaulted ceilings and large stained glass windows that cast colorful shadows on the hardwood flooring. There were cascading white curtains and pale pink tablecloths with little white doilies. It was pretty but humble and you felt a pang of jealousy in your chest.

Concealing yourself in the crowd wasn’t difficult considering she’d invited the county and all its neighbors. Everyone was in the pews standing and mingling and you noticed the only group sitting quietly was the family of the bride herself, all looking around carefully like the normal folk were unevolved cavemen. They wore coordinating lavender outfits with done up hair and hats with little feathers -- something straight out of a period piece. 

You rolled your eyes at their judgmental nature and apparent superiority complex before your attention was drawn to the boys in the front row talking seriously among themselves, dread written clearly on their faces. 

Calum, Ashton and Michael wore similar black tuxes, looking uncomfortable in the formal getup. You only watched for a few moments before you caught Ashton’s attention. He first looked shocked but his expression quickly became sincere. He gave you an apologetic smile which you returned before heading to the back to avoid any more curious eyes. His family would surely recognize you if they saw you and you didn’t want any extra attention on you until you were subjecting yourself to it. 

As you waited for the ceremony to start, you stared fondly out the window at the snowy trees and calm serenity of nature before allowing yourself to be whisked away in a vivid daydream about what it might be like to tell him how you truly feel. 

You jumped, pulled from your daydream by dark, heavy chords coming from the church organ. You cringed a little as the horribly ill fitting song continued, but readied yourself for the ceremony to begin. 

The silk purple curtains concealed your figure enough in the back of the church and your heart rate began to rise. This was happening. You were about to profess your love to a man who might turn you down in front of everyone and their mother. But it would be worth it. You couldn’t live your whole life wondering “what if?”

You heard a squeak of door hinges from your right and held still. Any sudden movements might give you away. 

A young girl came running through with a wicker basket in hand, poorly distributing rose petals along the aisle. Something caught your eye in the front of the room. 

Luke stepped out, front and center, and straightened his tie. Your breath caught in your throat. He looked just the same as the last time you’d seen him on that warm summer night. You had expected some drastic change, to not even recognize him. But it was Luke. The same one that picked flowers with you at recess and stopped to wait for you whenever you needed to tie your shoe. The same one that was always there to dry your tears and to watch dumb romantic comedies with you without complaining. He stood there quietly, clean shaven and rosy cheeked, the same Luke you knew and loved. 

You pushed away the more upsetting memories, like the one from that warm, sticky night. The image of his tear stained cheeks and pleading eyes. 

Moments later, your eyes were pulled from Luke. Courtney came strutting through the open Mahogany doors, waving like she was fucking Queen Elizabeth.

You rolled your eyes at her bedazzled ball gown and fake pageant smile. She didn’t care about Luke, she cared about image and reputation. Which is why you were really about to piss her off.

You looked back towards Luke and tried to read his expression but it was stoic, unmoved. You wish that was me, don’t you?

Courtney reached Luke and shot him a wide smile, to which he returned. Except Luke's was empty, not sincere. Luke had always thought Courtney was beautiful and smart and made the decision from there that marrying her wouldn’t be so bad. After you had turned him down in the glow of the firelight on that July night. It broke him and you hated yourself every day because of it. You weren’t ready to love him then. But you were most certainly ready now. 

Ready to risk everything for that blue eyed boy. 

The ceremony progressed and the preacher neared the end of the formalities. You felt your time was nearing. Your knees were weak and knocky, your hands shaking. 

The preacher paused, and with his booming voice said “if anyone can show just cause why this couple cannot lawfully be joined together in matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace.” He looked down, preparing to move on and read the next portion, assuming no one would protest. No sane person ever protested. 

Your breath hitched in your throat. It was now or never. If you didn’t find it in you to step forward at this moment, the person you love most in this world might be gone forever. 

The room fell silent and you closed your eyes, pushing the sheer curtain aside and taking a shaky step forward. You heard heads turn and a few audible gasps.

When you opened your eyes, everyone had turned to you. Every familiar face, every friend, every stranger.

You caught Courtney’s eye and she looked as if every fiber of her being was on fire. If someone reached out and touched her in that moment, they’d get a 3rd degree burn. She looked like she was trying to strangle you with her eyes.

You flattened your dress once more and looked up, bracing yourself for the look on Luke’s face. 

He didn’t look angry or upset, just… confused. And surprised.

You took that as a sign to continue. You softly cleared your throat, speaking directly to the man in front of you. “I am not the kind of girl who should be rudely barging in on a white veil occasion but you are not the kind of boy… who should be marrying the wrong girl.” There were some shocked whispers and appalled gasps but you ignored them.

You walked forward down the aisle to get a clearer look at Luke and stopped at the stairs. You felt like you were alone with him now and it made it easier. “So don’t say yes, let’s run away now. I’ll meet you when you’re out of the church at the back door. Don’t wait or say a single vow, you need to hear me out.” You looked at him with pleading eyes and for the first time, his facade fell. You saw the glint of relief in his eyes and the slump of his once tense shoulders. 

Luke looked around once more at all of the people that had gathered there today for him and knew he needed to make a decision. He turned to look at his friends stationed behind him, and to no surprise, their faces were lit up with pure happiness and relief. He couldn’t help but smile back at them. Calum threw him a thumbs up and Michael mouthed “go with her, dumbass.” 

Luke turned back to the audience and spotted his mother in the crowd. He tried to read her expression but when she gave him a soft, curt nod, he knew what he had to do. 

He quickly grabbed Courtney’s hands and your face immediately fell. He was going to choose her after all.

Then, he whispered something you didn’t expect. “I'm sorry, Court. This is a mistake, you don’t love me and I don’t love you — you and I both know that. We can’t do this. I have to go.” He leaned in and kissed her on the cheek quickly as she stood, frozen.

You felt a pang of guilt. But then you remembered that she would get over it and be marrying someone filthy rich by the time she was 25 and didn’t feel so bad anymore.

Luke then turned back to you. He jogged down the steps and pulled you into a hug. It was so silent in the church now, you could hear a pin drop.

He grabbed your shoulders and kissed your forehead. “Let’s run away now, I’ll meet you when I’m out of my tux at the back door.”

You nodded, tears in your eyes, and ran towards the double doors of the church. This was the best decision you had ever made.

You stood in the crisp, chilly air, waiting for Luke to come out of the door on the side of the church. Snow fell on your hair and eyelashes and you reached out a hand to catch some flakes. 

In only three minutes he’d managed to change back into his black skinny jeans, looking like himself again. You could’ve cried at the sight.

“Hi,” you said. What else do you say to someone when you just got them to call off a marriage at the alter?

His smile grew and he ran forward, nearly tackling you in a giant hug. His hands found the back of your head and his eyes searched your face, memorizing every feature, worried that at any second, he might wake up from this amazing dream. “So glad you were around when they said speak now.”

taglist (dm or ask to be added!): @theshyspy

[it-was-all-a-beautiful-dream]

Mr. I want suck your blood - Pt 4

Warning: Mentions of violence and Swearing 

Word count: 2,451 

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In stories, Soulmates were meant to be the real deal. They were forever. They were two individuals who were brought together by the universe so their lives finally made perfect sense. 

You'd never heard of Soulmates ‘Taking a break’ or ‘Splitting up,’ it wasn't something that happened. That’s not what happened in the stories. 

Thats just the thing though. Life isn't a story. Life’s a bitch.

Y/N POV

It had been 1 Hour 19 minutes and 45 seconds since Carlisle shattered your world. 1 Hour, 22 minutes and 23 seconds since you had ripped out your IV line and stormed out of the Cullen house. 1 Hour, 28 minutes and 15 seconds, since Carlisle Cullen, your SOULMATE, decided to call it quits.

Carlisle’s words were still ringing in your ears. “It’s safer this way.” or “Now you can live a normal human life.” You felt numb. 

-1 Hour, 19 minutes and 45 seconds ago- 

You looked up as you saw Carlisle standing in the wooden door frame. You smiled and placed a hand on your fast beating heart relieved to see him unscathed. Bella had swiftly exited the room. It was just the two of you now. You could tell straight away that something was wrong. Your heart started racing again. 

You sat there and listened, as Carlisle took your hand and proceeded to shatter your world. He’d decided that being together, it was too dangerous. He couldn't put you in danger again, couldn’t watch you bleed in his arms again. You both argued. It was his over protective nature, that was the cause of this.

“What about Bella and Edward? She’s still human?!” Apparently it was an invalid argument. Invalid my ass. He wouldn't budge. He thought some time apart would be for the best, even if saying it did secretly pain him. 

You were angry, so angry that you ripped out your own IV, not without gagging of course. The screaming and arguing drew the attention of the rest of the Cullen household. Bella was trying to calm you down and stop your arm from bleeding, while Edward and Esme were talking to Carlisle. 

You didn't care anymore. How dare he. How could he do this to you? You didn't ask for this life. You'd been dragged into it head first. You'd accepted him for all he was. Before all of this you WERE a normal teenager, with normal teenage problems! 

You didn't want normal anymore. You wanted Carlisle, the Volturi, wolves and blood singers. You wanted it all, but just like that, he took it away. 

You hadn't wasted any time running through the house, past Alice, Rose and Jasper and to your car. You say run, more like fast walked, your legs were still jelly from lying in bed the last couple of days. Alice had tried to stop you on the way out but Jasper told her to let you go, he could feel the pain and anger radiating of you in waves. 

The first thing you did when you got to your car was check your glove box for cigarettes. You got in and slammed the door, you could see Carlisle fighting to try and get passed Edward and Emmett but they wouldn't let him out. You looked over to see Bella running toward your car. You waited. She jumped in the passenger side and neither of you spoke a word.  You didn't have to. You started the engine and it came to life with a roar, you peeled out of the Cullen’s drive way with tears streaming down your face and a cigarette between your lips. You fucking hated Forks. 

Bella had made you pull over halfway home, scared the tears were clouding your vision. She was probably right, the road ahead did look quite blurry. You traded places and carried on towards home. She was talking to you but you weren't really listening, just watching the trees speed past in a blur, you were sure you could see other objects moving beside you through the trees just as fast, but blinked and they were gone.

-2 weeks later- 

Grand Piano by Nicki Minaj blared through the speakers on repeat, you sat staring blankly at your sketchpad, no inspiration, no drive.. nothing. It had been like this for two weeks. Bella had apparently been the same, but you just couldn't shake it. You'd shut yourself off from everyone. Only coming out of your room to get food and use the bathroom. You felt numb. 

You could tell your Mom and Charlie were starting to worry. They'd tried to talk to you, find out whats wrong. All they knew is someone broke your heart bad. You'd started having nightmares the first night you were without Carlisle. They felt like more than nightmares though, so vivid, almost like premonitions. You'd wake up still screaming in a cold sweat clutching your chest and crying. Crying for everything you lost when Carlisle let you go. You'd never been in love before and if it felt like this then you never wanted to be again. You didn't think you could love again. 

You were spaced out, the music was still playing in the background but your mind was somewhere else, another thing that had been happening since the accident. You just went places, like you were daydreaming, lost in a trance. This time was different though. It was if you were actually there, watching things unfold, only when you came to you were in your bedroom, your paints scattered everywhere, your sketchbook now covered in imagery. You gasped and flew back from your desk, the page awash with shades of vibrant red and black. You gagged. Blood….. and a symbol, it was an emblem of some sort. You shook your head and closed the book on the now dry paints. 

What the fuck. 

It happened a few more times after that. The spacing out, coming back to earth having drawn on something or once, even scratched symbols into your desk. You'd practically stopped sleeping. Too many thoughts in your head. Even Bella was getting worried, she knew what it was like to spiral and you were doing it at 100mph. She’d suggested talking to Carlisle but you shouted at her for even bringing him up. He left you and hadn't made any attempt to contact or see you. Why give him the satisfaction. 

You'd decided enough was enough. You had to start living your life again, or at least thats what you tried to tell yourself. Today you were going to see Seth. You’d become quite close friends with Seth since getting involved in the whole supernatural side of life but you'd been shutting him out for weeks, he knew what had happened with Mr I want to suck you blood, but he didn't ask questions, which you were grateful for. You thought it would do you some good to get outside and breath in the fresh air. You couldn't wallow in self pity any longer. 

It felt weird to be in normal clothes rather than ratty old pyjamas. You parked up, jumping out of your car, slinging your backpack over your shoulder. You had brought your sketchbook with you, you didn't know who to talk to about these things, so you were going to show one to Seth, just to see if he recognised anything. 

You couldn't help but breath deeply as the air floated off the salty sea and toward your face. You smiled as you watched Seth running down the beach. His boyish grin was charming and his smile grew as he got closer to you. He wrapped you in a hug and you hugged back desperate for a bit of normalcy. 

“Hey Seth,” You grinned, thankful for a bit of human, well in this case werewolf, connection. Yeah you had Bella.. and Alice had tried to stop by from time to time, but at the minute they were just a constant reminder of him…. 

“Y/N! I missed you, things have been so strange without seeing you around ya know!” You bumped his shoulder as you walked down the beach. It had been strange. You'd moved to Forks, got involved with Vamps and the supernatural and in all this time you'd never had any normal time to yourself, or with a friend. 

“I’m sorry I’ve been so distant, you know the whole…. thing…” He just nodded his head. You didn't have to explain, he was just happy you were there now.

You'd spent hours just walking and talking on the beach. While walking you had bumped into some of the others as well, Sam, Paul…. You got along with them too, but they had never agreed with your relationship. They seemed somewhat more comfortable around you now. Catching up was good, you felt a lot lighter when you walked, your heart a little less heavy, he was still in the back of your mind though, as much as you tried to think about anything else.

There was an abandoned fire pit a little further up from where you'd been talking with the others, logs surrounded the ashy mound, placed out like small earthy benches. You'd been collecting odd pieces of wood on the way, expecting to find it there. Yourself and Seth pilled the kindling high and he started a fire, he didn't really need to because of his heat, but it was still fun. As Seth continued the fire you reached around and grabbed your leather backpack, opening the zip and fishing inside for your paint covered sketchbook. He came to sit beside you as you started flicking through the pages. You tried to glance at him from the corner of your eye to read his expressions. 

“Y/N, these are pretty amazing, and… somewhat scary…” He looked at the book and then back at you. “What are they?” His finger traced the images and the symbols. 

You shook your head and flicked through the pages more rapidly. “I don't know S, I…if I tell you something you have to promise you wont tell anyone, not even Sam, not even Jake….” You gulped and looked up at him. He looked confused. You faltered a little, getting nervous you shut your book and started to shove it in your bag. “This was stupid, I should go…” You stood up trying to leave but Seth grabbed your hand. 

“I wont tell, you can trust me I promise.” You relaxed, still hesitant, you sat back down. You took the sketchbook back out and went to the first page, tracing the symbols and images, remembering how clearly you had seen them in your mind.

“I drew these. But I didn’t, at the same time.” Seth just looked even more confused now. “I think…. I think something happened to me when I was bitten S…. Something I cant explain. This symbol, I drew this, sat at my desk, one minute the sky outside was light, the next thing I knew it was dark, and the once blank page was covered in all these drawings!” You flicked through the book and sighed placing your head in your hands. He probably thought you were crazy. You sure felt crazy.

You felt his hand rest on your back as you hunched over sighing. “Y/N I’m a wolf, The Cullen’s are Vampires… crazier things have happened, i’ve just never heard of this crazy happening yet….”

You peaked at him from your hands. “Do you know what any of the symbols mean? I see them in my dreams as well, it’s like i’m watching a movie in my head, it’s like I'm there but no one can hear me or see me.. It feels so real.” You sit up, flicking through the pages, before you can turn to the next, Seth’s hand comes flying down stopping the process as he points to one of the symbols. 

“Y/N, I’ve seen that symbol before… I think it’s something to do with the cold ones.. the Volturi to be exact.” You groan. This cant be fucking happening. Not only were you dumped now you were having freaky Volturi dreams as well? You searched in your bag for your cigarettes, you held the packet out to Seth and he surprisingly took one. You grinned.

“Wow Sethy never took you for the rebel type.” He ruffled your hair and you shoved him. “Seriously though what am I going to do, this shouldn't be happening i’m human, I didn't turn, Carlisle made sure of that.” You couldn't hide the bitter tone in your voice. 

“I don’t know what it means Y/N, but I promise we will figure it out.. cant you talk to Cull…” You glared at him before he could finish his sentence. “Never mind, stupid idea, ignore me.” You laughed and you both carried on looking through the book. What the hell did this mean?

It was late now, Seth walked you to your car, his body still close to keep you warm, the sea breeze now icy cold on your skin. You sighed, part of you didn't want to leave, it was the first kind of normal you'd felt in a really long time, even before coming to Forks. Life in your old place had been really hard, You didn't fit in anywhere, you could count your friends on one hand and you had a strange relationship with your bio dad. You thought things would get easier, Forks had the smallest population and yet you managed to find yourself smack bang in the middle of all this drama, you'd thank Bella for that later. You thought it would be easier living here, maybe you were wrong. 

You turned, looking at Seth as you reached your car, you were about to tell him you'd had a nice time, ask him if he wanted to hang out again soon, but you couldn't speak. The waves sounded louder, the air around you felt thicker and you couldn't breath. You could hear Seth’s muffled voice in the background somewhere and a pair of arms shaking you but in your head you were somewhere else entirely. 

Cloaks of black floating across the white pearlescent snow, rivers of red blood flowing all around. Wicked eyes staring into yours, and then pain.

You screamed and grabbed your head, it felt like someone had jabbed it with a white hot poker. Images flashed before your eyes, Volturi, Snow, Red, Carlisle. You gagged, so much blood, so much pain. Then, nothing. 

Your mind went dark, no images now, no sound, just the sharp ache as you feel your body shut down and hit the solid ground, then the coldness surrounded you. 

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Hey guys! I’m sorry it took so long for me to post another part! Hope you enjoy reading x Please comment if you'd like to be tagged! 

PT 5 -------- HERE

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Song for Heroes

Here I am with the final part of August’s themed week in “Lyrical Love”! Today’s subject is a song by the Japanese pop artist Kenshi Yonezu, precisely one of his most famous hits, Peace Sign, released as lead song of the single with the same name on 21th June 2017. Being known as the second opening theme of the anime Boku no Hero Academia, this song combines the catchiness and the energy of Kenshi’s music with a subject related to his personality as artist, in a more compelling work than expected.

THE MUSIC

The song starts with Kenshi’s clear vocals, leading up to a positive melody, kept up by an energetic rhythm; Kenshi’s interpretation moves on clear and decise notes, increasing even more the energy brought up by the song and showing his incredible talent as singer; the track results being catchy and passionate, with a really good pop-rock vibe which makes in a good mood.

Lyrics (Romaji)

Itsuka bokura no ue o suresure ni toorisugiteitta ano hikouki o Fushigi na kurai ni oboeteru imi mo nai no ni naze ka Fugainakute naita hi no yoru ni tada tsuyokunaritai to negatteta Sono tame ni hitsuyou na yuuki o sagashimotometeita Zankoku na unmei ga sadamatteru to shite Sore ga itsu no hi ka boku no mae ni arawareru to shite Tada isshun kono isshun iki ga dekiru nara Dou demo ii to omoeta sono kokoro o Mou ichido tooku e ike tooku e ike to boku no naka de dare ka ga utau Dou shiyou mo nai hodo netsuretsu ni Itsudatte me o harashita kimi ga nido to kanashimanai you ni waraeru Sonna hiiroo ni naru tame no uta Saraba kakagero piisu sain korogatteiku sutoorii o Mamoritai da nante ieru hodo kimi ga yowaku wa nai no wakatteta Sore ijou ni boku wa yowakute sa kimi ga daiji dattanda “Hitori de ikiteikunda” nante sa kuchi o tsuite sakenda ano hi kara Kawatteiku boku o waraeba ii hitori ga kowai boku o Ketobashite kamitsuite iki mo dekinakute Sawagu atama to hara no oku ga kushakusha ni nattatte Tearai mo keiren mo kieteshimau kurai ni Ima wa sawatteitainda kimi no kokoro ni Bokutachi wa kitto itsuka tooku hanareta taiyou ni sura te ga todoite Yoake mae o te ni irete waraou Sou yatte aoku moeru iro ni somari oboroge na machi no mukou e Te o tsunaide hashitteyukeru hazu da Kimi to mirai o nusumiegaku hineri no nai sutoorii o Kasabuta darake arakureta hibi ga kezuri kezurare surikireta ima ga Kimi no kotoba de yomigaeru azayaka ni mo arawareteiku Sanagi no mama de nemuru tamashii o tabekake no mama suteta ano yume o Mou ichido torimodose Mou ichido tooku e ike tooku e ike to boku no naka de dare ka ga utau Dou shiyou mo nai hodo netsuretsu ni Itsudatte me o harashita kimi ga nido to kanashimanai you ni waraeru Sonna hiiroo ni naru tame no uta Saraba kakagero piisu sain korogatteiku sutoorii o Kimi to mirai o nusumi egaku hineri no nai sotorii o

Lyrics (Translation)

When we were up there A plane was passing by Strangely I remember that It doesn’t have sense, why?

In the night, after having cried for all the day I hoped to be strong The needed courage I was looking for it

A cruel fate, defined One day it appeared next to me If I would have a moment, this moment, for breathing It wouldn’t matter to me. (I)

Once again “Go far away!” Someone is singing it to me With so much passion Your eyes, always swollen with tears I laugh for not being sad A song for becoming an hero Goodbye, peace sign A rolling story (II)

I can’t say that I want to protect you Realizing that you weren’t weak I am weaker than this You were important

“I’ll live by myself” I screamed that day You laugh of me, that I have changed I am scared to be alone

Even if I would breathe, bite or kick My head becomes noisy and inside the stomach, all crushed The pretense of showing myself off vanishes I want to touch your heart

We Surely are very distant With the hands reaching for the sun They arrive before the day, while we laugh Dyed of a burning blue From the other side of a dim city We should run, while you take my hand Stealing the future with you Writing a story without twists

Rough and encrusted days Now scratched and consumed They revive in your words, appearing vivid A soul sleeping like a chrysalis A dream thrown away like if is half-eaten I will take everything back again

Once again “Go far away!” Someone is singing it to me With so much passion Your eyes, always swollen with tears I laugh for not being sad A song for becoming an hero Goodbye, peace sign A rolling story 

I will steal the future with you, writing a story without twists.

THE WORDS

Written by Kenshi himself, the song features a long text, with a plain structure and made by long but simple lines, easy to get when connected one to another, since the order of words is not what we would expect (because of this, the translation will stick to the literal order of the words, compared to the ones you can find on the web, which are more free). The single where it is featured deals, such in a way, with the concept of the past, present in this song and also in other two ones, Neighbourhood, which is about sad memories as part for forming ourselves, considered a conceptual opposite of the lead-song, and Yumekui shoujyo (Dreameater girl), self-cover of one of his Vocaloid songs, which is about a love which destroys dreams. The song covered here is a personal perspective about Kenshi’s life, focusing in particular about his childhood, a time when his passion for anime and manga came out and he experienced hard moments; the text is a conversation between Kenshi’s grown self, represented by the figure of hero (explaining the song’s presence in an anime like Boku no Hero Academia) and his past one, a frail being and victim of the events, where the two parts get together and go on towards the future, made of hopes and uncertainities. And now... let’s analyze the song!

I) The text starts with the image of one of the memories coming from the protagonist, when he was over the sky with his “hero”, watching a plane passing by and not understanding why he would remind such thing (Itsuka bokura no ue o suresure ni toorisugiteitta ano hikouki o/Fushigi na kurai ni oboeteru imi mo nai no ni naze ka); during the night, after he has cried for all the day, he hoped to be stronger and so he tries to look for the needed courage, in order to go on ( /Fugainakute naita hi no yoru ni tada tsuyokunaritai to negatteta/Sono tame ni hitsuyou na yuuki o sagashimotometeita); a cruel and definite fate appears next to him, a thing he wouldn’t consider important, if he had a moment for breathe (Zankoku na unmei ga sadamatteru to shite/Sore ga itsu no hi ka boku no mae ni arawareru to shite/Tada isshun kono isshun iki ga dekiru nara/Dou demo ii to omoeta sono kokoro o, the cruel fate is the time which goes by too fast, not giving the time for living own life day per day).

II) His “hero” sings with passion to the protagonist, asking him to go far and far, so that he won’t have swollen eyes for his sadness, which he tries to hide with his laughter; the song that he is singing to him is an invitation for becoming stronger, like the hero is (this makes thinking that the hero could represent also a role model for the protagonist, a former mentor, maybe a member of his family or a best friend); finally the protagonist says goodbye to his old self, exchanging a peace sign and goes to continue his rolling story (Mou ichido tooku e ike tooku e ike to boku no naka de dare ka ga utau/Dou shiyou mo nai hodo netsuretsu ni/Itsudatte me o harashita kimi ga nido to kanashimanai you ni waraeru/Sonna hiiroo ni naru tame no uta/Saraba kakagero piisu sain korogatteiku sutoorii o, the image of peace sign indicates that he made peace with himself and his inner pain, needed for growing up and becoming adult).

III) The protagonist knows that he can’t protect his mate, because he is strong, while he realizes that is weak, the reason why his mate is the most important person for him (Mamoritai da nante ieru hodo kimi ga yowaku wa nai no wakatteta/Sore ijou ni boku wa yowakute sa kimi ga daiji dattanda); since they separated, the protagonist screamed that he wants to live by himself, even if he is scared to be like that, bringing his mate to laugh of his change (“Hitori de ikiteikunda” nante sa kuchi o tsuite sakenda ano hi kara/Kawatteiku boku o waraeba ii hitori ga kowai boku o); he wants to touch his heart, even if it breathes, bites or kicks, even if his head is noisy and his stomach is upside down and even if his desire of showing off to other people disappears (Ketobashite kamitsuite iki mo dekinakute/Sawagu atama to hara no oku ga kushakusha ni nattatte/Tearai mo keiren mo kieteshimau kurai ni/Ima wa sawatteitainda kimi no kokoro ni).

IV) They are so much distant, but their hands are reaching the sun (symbol of life), trying to catch it before the dawn, smiling together (Bokutachi wa kitto itsuka tooku hanareta taiyou ni sura te ga todoite/Yoake mae o te ni irete waraou); the sun is dyed of a burning blue (blue is symbol of youth and linked to burning, it hints to a intense and blazing phase of the protagonist’s life), in the opposite side of a dim town (the town, and in general, the urban world, are one of the most common themes in Kenshi’s songs and it may be a synonym of uncertainity), and the protagonist would like to run with his hero, hand by hand, while stealing the future and building a story without twists (Sou yatte aoku moeru iro ni somari oboroge na machi no mukou e/Te o tsunaide hashitteyukeru hazu da/Kimi to mirai o nusumiegaku hineri no nai sutoorii o).

V) The rough and encrusted days, now scratched and consumed by time, are brought up again by the hero’s words, making them more vivid (Kasabuta darake arakureta hibi ga kezuri kezurare surikireta ima ga/Kimi no kotoba de yomigaeru azayaka ni mo arawareteiku); the protagonist wants to get back every thing he has been taken off, such his soul, sleeping like in a chrysalis, and his dream, thrown away like if half-eaten (Sanagi no mama de nemuru tamashii o tabekake no mama suteta ano yume o/Mou ichido torimodose). The text ends with a repetition of the whole second sequence and the last lines of the fourth, emphasizing the concept of the whole song.

A confrontation between the past and the present, the mistakes and the experience, the pain and the hope of being happy; Kenshi Yonezu focuses on this dialogue in one of his most renowned songs, not only because of its presence in a popular anime, but also for the efficient mix between an energetic pop-melody and a compelling theme, made by motivation and hope for the future.

That’s all folks! See you next Wednesday for a new review in “Let’s Listen to”!

Thanks for the reading!

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SPECIALS

Kenshi Yonezu - Between Pop and Drawings

[phoenix-downer]

Your Voice

Sora had never been big on hospitals. They were cold and sterile and brought back memories of when his grandfather was sick. All those days spent in waiting rooms and sitting by hospital beds and hoping for the best while bracing himself for the worst. And it wasn’t like old people were the only ones who dealt with this kind of thing. Even kids could get really sick.

Even so, he didn’t expect a serious illness to hit Kairi of all people. She was healthy and active, spending hours at the Play Island with him and Riku. All until she’d come down with a fever so bad she had to be hospitalized.

“You can go in now,” the nurse said, a kind woman who smiled and cheered him up a little. He nodded and pushed the door open. Kairi was lying there on the hospital bed, and her cheeks were flushed from the fever. Machines next to her beeped ominously, and an IV connected her to one of them.

“Hey,” he said as he found one of those squeaky hospital chairs and dragged it over. “Long time no see.”

Kairi didn’t say anything; the only response was the steady beeping of the machines.

“We’ve missed you, at school and stuff. Mr. Kobayashi doesn’t know what to do without his star student in homeroom. He keeps looking over at your desk before he remembers you’re not there. We… we all do.”

He reached into his book bag and pulled out one of her favorites: a book of fairytales. Flipping through the pages, he began to read one to her, about a knight who went on a long quest to rescue a princess. In order to save her, he had to give up his heart and become a shade. But the princess found him and saved him with true love’s kiss. He became human again, and they got married and lived happily ever after.

It was a simple tale, but one they’d both loved since they were kids. He carefully tucked it back into his book bag and then pulled out something the art club had made for her, a Get Well Soon card with thalassa shells drawn on it. He read out the names of all the people who had signed it, then put it on the windowsill looking out over the parking lot below.

And now, the real reason he had come. Taking a deep breath, he found her hand. It was warm and kinda limp. This wasn’t the first time he’d held it, but… all the other times were before. Before his heart started racing whenever she walked in the room. Before just meeting her eyes made his face hot and his palms sweaty. Before his mouth went dry any time he tried to talk to her. Before things had changed between them.

“Kairi, you know that saying? About how you never know what you have until it’s gone? When you got sick, that was me. I’d always just… sort of taken it for granted that you’d always be there. But all this has made me realize, that’s not really true. I have no idea how long you’ll be a part of my life. And thinking about that, thinking about losing you someday… it hurt. A lot.”

He took another deep breath before continuing.

“Then I thought about why. You’re my friend, of course, but that’s not all. I think I might…”

His face got hot, and he couldn’t spit the words out. Even though she wasn’t really conscious, the thought of telling her what was on his heart made him want to bolt out of the room.

Maybe, if he said it in a roundabout way…

He thought of the story he’d read to her, and the words came easily.  “You’re my light in the darkness, Kairi.” He smiled and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “I know you’ll get better, but I didn’t want to wait to tell you any longer.”

He glanced back towards the door, and the nurse nodded at him. Visiting hours were over.

“Bye for now, Kairi. I hope you feel better soon.” He let her hand linger in his for a little while longer. When her fingers slipped out of his grasp, he had to fight the sinking feeling in his gut.

This wouldn’t be the last time he would see her. It just wouldn’t be. Kairi was strong, and she’d pull through.

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Kairi’s fever came on suddenly, and the days her body spent fighting the infection went by in a delirious haze. Old memories mixed with new sensations to provide strange, vivid images that were half nightmare and half daydream.

But then came a moment of clarity, gentle pressure on her fingers and a warm, familiar voice. She was floating one moment, sinking the next, awash in a sea of confusion and fear, when that voice broke through her dreams and found her.

“Sora?” she murmured. Her eyes fluttered open, and his smile greeted her. Warm and gentle and bright as the sun. She followed his voice, followed the warmth in her hand as he led her away from the darkness and confusion and towards the light.

When she woke up for real, the fever had finally broken, and she was lying on a hospital bed. A few moments later, a nurse bounced into the room to check up on her, a huge smile on her face. Kairi had to stay at the hospital for a few more days as she recovered her strength, but that moment she’d heard Sora’s voice was the turning point, she was sure of it.

Her first day back at school, it felt like the whole school was celebrating her return. The third year students had made a huge banner saying, “Welcome Back, Kairi” in big bold letters, and it was hanging over the balcony on their floor. She caught Riku grinning down at her, and she smiled back and waved at him.

When she reached the shoeboxes, hers was full of cards and presents, and there were so many that she couldn’t reach her indoor shoes until she pulled the gifts out and tucked them into her bag. Her cubby at the back of the classroom was a similar story; it was so full of gifts from her classmates that she knew it would take hours to look through them all.

Mr. Kobayashi’s face brightened as she took her seat. “Kairi! Glad to have you back.” She thanked him for his kind words and reached into her desk for a pencil and a scrap of paper. Scribbling a quick note on it, she casually stood and made her way over towards Sora’s desk. When Mr. Kobayashi was distracted by Selphie asking him about what area she was supposed to clean today, she deposited the note inside Sora’s desk.

Selphie turned to her and winked once her mission was accomplished, and Kairi gave her a grateful smile. The rest of their classmates filtered in after that, all stopping by her desk to congratulate her on her recovery. Sora was the last one to come in, as was his habit. He had figured out how to arrive with exactly one minute to spare before the bell rang, and today was no different. He strolled in like he didn’t have a care in the world, in that easy, confident swagger she’d come to love.

All until he saw her, that is. He stopped, and gone was the swagger. His cheeks flushed, and his whole face lit up like it was Christmas morning.

“Kairi! You’re back!”

She returned his smile. “Yes, I am.”

His grin got bigger, and he stood there and gazed at her. “Wow, that’s… that’s great.”

She felt her own cheeks get hot. “Y-Yeah.”

The moment was interrupted by Tidus scolding him and telling him to sit down before the bell rang so they wouldn’t break their twenty-days-of-no-tardies streak.

He stumbled on the way to his desk and sat down with five seconds to spare. Mr. Kobayashi gave him a look, and he started. “Oh, right. I’m supposed to do the morning greeting today.” He deposited his stuff and went to the front of the room. “Stand up.”

Kairi kept casting looks his way all throughout the morning, hoping he would find her note. It wasn’t till third period that he finally did, when he realized he’d left his math homework in his desk. He stole a glance at her, then nodded slightly to confirm before crumpling the note and stuffing it in his pocket. Tidus noticed what had happened and snickered, but thankfully didn’t rat them out.

During the lunch recess, Sora met her on the roof of the school, like she’d requested. He’d loosened his tie in a way that would get Mr. Kobayashi’s scolding for sure for violating the school dress code. But it was warm outside  and no teachers were around right now, and Kairi sort of liked the more relaxed look on him.

“So, you wanted to meet me up here?” he asked. The view was great; you could see all of the Main Island from here, and even some of the nearby smaller islands. The breeze ruffled his spiky hair and cooled them both down, and it felt nice to be back outside after spending so much time indoors.

“Yes, I did,” she said. Now that he was actually here, though, her palms were sweaty and her mouth was dry. But… she had to do it. She had to tell him.

“Sora, when I was sick, I had a lot of strange dreams. Because of the fever, I mean.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yup. Come to think of it, they were more like nightmares.”

His face fell. “Oh. I’m sorry to hear that.”

“But then… I heard a voice. Your voice. It brought me home.” She smiled and tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. “You came to visit me when I was in the hospital, didn’t you?”

He coughed and stammered. “You weren’t supposed to find out about that,” he muttered, unable to meet her eyes as he scratched his neck. “Do you… do you remember anything I said?”

She shook her head. “No, not really. I just remember hearing your voice, and I think that’s what helped break my fever.”

She found his hand, remembering the time when his fingers weren’t this much bigger than hers. He looked at her, surprise written on his features, and she smiled and nodded.

“Thank you, Sora. Thank you for bringing me home.”

He stared at her for a few moments, then a huge smile spread across his face. He wove their fingers together, his grip strong and steady and firm. “No, thank you, Kairi.”

She tilted her head, her hair splashing against her cheeks. “For what?”

“For being you.”

The way he spoke was so heartfelt that she couldn’t help but look away as she blushed and giggled. When she summoned the courage to look in his eyes again, she almost had to look away again, her heart was fluttering so much.

How glad she was that it had been him to pull her out of the darkness, his voice that had called out to her. Her illness hadn’t been fun or pleasant, but at least one good thing had come from it.

And for now, it was simply enough that they were here, together. They could figure out the rest of the details later, one day at a time.

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

A/N: So, back when I was finishing my fic for the twosidesfanzine back in February, I told the other writers that if they could hit 1500 words exactly, I would write a fic for them. Well, several people took me up on my offer, including @peachofthesunshine, so this fic is written for her! She gave me a prompt about Sora visiting Kairi in the hospital, including her being able to hear his voice. Hope you enjoyed!

[ily-like-a-banana]

so, today is actually my birthday it is now 2019 which is crazy because i meant to post this on my birthday (it's on dec 12 lol) but anyway, i decided to write a little something as a way to kind of celebrate my 20 years of existence. it has truly been a year of growth for me; i’ve been actively seeking who i am, my potentials, the things i love and the things i am hoping to achieve even further. 

i opened up this tumblr account early this year without any intention other than to just read the amazing works made by other carats. i haven’t been writing for years even though i spent a lot of my time doing so as a child. it would have stayed that way - a mere childhood hobby, if it weren’t for the writers i’ve stumbled upon on this site that i truly admire. 

so here’s my little notes of love. ( thank you )

@boosoonhao: i remember when i stumbled upon your works, i just had this phase where i just could not stop reading and i have convinced myself that i’ve become your little secret fan. your ideas and how you convey your stories is something i’ll always be in awe of. the way you string your words really paint vivid images in my head and ah, i don’t think you can ever write something that i won’t enjoy. you write with simplicity yet you’re able to communicate scenes or feelings that are so complex, if that makes sense. ilysm.

@tonicandjins: i’m not sure how to explain it but when it comes to you, i just feel this sense of comfort? i’m not really one to drop messages and initiate conversations bc i’m extremely shy but you always seem warm and easy to talk to that i don’t feel the usual small panic feeling whenever i leave asks haha! your works have always felt... raw to me, in a sense that you really capture the emotions of the characters and it communicates to me as something real. like it isn’t just a fic i’m reading but it’s someone’s journal instead. you’re crazy talented and ilysm!

@lxveille: honestly, i’ve gone through countless times where i’d come home from school, feeling extremely worn out and dead but my cravings to read a fic would still peek out and my go-to has always been your works! you have a way of writing scenarios that depict little moments in life that is so easy to relate to. so i always feel connected to the people in the fics- actually, just the fics in general, and that is something i really admired about your works! i also just want you to know how much comfort and inspiration your works have provided me. ilysm!

@choco-seventeen: i vividly remember my jaw literally dropping when i read ‘ivory night’ which is the first fic i’ve ever read from you! your artistry for writing is out of this world, how can anyone have so much talent on their mere fingertips? your style of writing is really one that really leaves an impact; it’s memorable and so... you. no one else can write the way you do. i can’t even finish this paragraph right now, i’m sitting here thinking so deeply. i wish i did this much thinking for my classes. you just leave me in so much awe and ilysm! (your tags also never fail to make me laugh! you’re probably the wittiest person i know on this site, wow ily)

@taeiliee-writings: the loveliest person who knows how to write the loveliest pieces ♡  the first piece i've ever read from you was one that you made for jihoon titled 'what i wish to tell him' and honestly, you just captured my heart then and there. i remember thinking 'i will definitely look forward to more of her works' and i have never once been let down; your works just keep getting better and better! definitely, i would keep supporting you and witness your growth as a writer. i'm always rooting for you! ilysm!

@chillihansol: okay, a little story time: i first talked to you when i saw you answer an ask and you mentioned that your favorite book was shatter me by tahereh mafi and i was like !!!!! okay, i must get over my fear of talking to people so i dropped an ask lmao i was on anon tho bc i'm a big chicken :'> anyway, i've been reading a lot of your works even before then and let me just say that anyone who will stumble upon your works will know how talented you are at it especially with how you seamlessly build up to the final scene; it just weaves together smoothly and i have mad respect for that! ilysm!

and to all the writers who have left the site but nonetheless made my experience here an inspiring and pleasant one, thank you. ♡

love, 

Jay :) 

[toosicktoocare]

For @prompt-master and @obsessive-enthusiast :) :) :) 

Walking to school is a sacrifice Jeremy still makes, even without the SQUIP, to try and seem a little cooler than he is. He knows it doesn’t matter anymore, that everyone at school likes him now. But, small things, he thinks to himself. He still refuses to be a junior riding the bus to school, even if it is February and incredibly cold.

He hates that Michael can’t drive him, not with Michael’s parents not wishing for Michael to drive with a passenger in their car quite yet. Jeremy doesn’t understand what the big deal is, but Michael has fought tooth and nail on this, so much that his parents have threatened to take his driving privileges away. So, Jeremy reluctantly assured Michael that it was fine; the walk to school is only ten minutes after all, so he can manage, even though the icy wind pierces through his too light jacket.

Sometimes, he cuts down an alley once he reaches the square; on a good day, this will cut the time to get to school by at least a minute and a half. And, today is one of those days where he finds himself turning a sharp right down the alley because he’s frozen solid and just wants the school’s heating system. He keeps his head bowed against the wind that sneaks down the small alley as he walks swiftly, and Michael’s headphones are loud enough to mask any outside sounds. 

He’s half way down the alley when he’s shoved hard, hard enough that he loses his footing and falls forward onto his hands and knees. Years of bullying have introduced him to this sort of behavior, so annoyance takes center hold in his chest as he slides his headphones off with a huff.

“Seriously,” he starts as he whips his head around, but whatever angered response to follow shoots back down into his gut when his eyes fall onto the distinctive glimmer of a knife. Panic swells within his chest and pushes against his lungs until his chest is rising and falling in stuttering gasps.

“Wallet.”

The man’s voice is thick, gravelly, and Jeremy nods and reaches into his pocket for his wallet. It’s a fold one that’s colored black and lined with rows of Pac-Man faces; Michael has a matching one. The two had won them during a night at the arcade, a time that seems so long ago now.

He hands the wallet over, and the man flicks through the meager contents: seven dollars in ones, a few arcade tokens, a poor quality photo-booth picture of he and Michael, a condom from his brief relationship with Christine that never went passed hand holding, and a folded, crinkled paper that has his class schedule scribbled on it.

“You must have more money than this.”

“I’m a high school student without a job,” Jeremy says, voice shaking. “That’s all I’ve got.”

“That won’t do.”

Before Jeremy can offer his backpack filled with textbooks that would probably pick up a pretty penny on Amazon, he’s being kicked hard in the side, fast enough that he doesn’t have time to shield himself. He topples over with a loud groan and brings one arm up to his face just as the boot covered foot moves toward it.

He loses count after the tenth kick. His entire body is searing hot and screaming in pain, but the pain doesn’t bleed into his voice. He stays silent, only letting out hushed cries with each kick, and finally, the man gets bored and shoots down the alley, still with his wallet.

Jeremy tries to move, but every inch of his body is throbbing hot despite the steady tremors coursing across his limbs. He manages to shift until his back is pressed against the brick wall, and just that slight movement has tears leaving deep tracks down his cheeks from the burning pain. He weakly pats at his pocket and feels the familiar outline of his phone, and he thanks whoever the hell is listening that the apparent mugger didn’t ask for his phone.

*****

Michael stares at Jeremy’s empty seat; the latter hadn’t said anything on the phone last night about missing class, and the teacher is due to walk in any second now. He slips his phone out and opens Snapchat, snapping a quick picture of his face with the caption “where u at bro?” just as the teacher walks in. 

He keeps his eyes glued to his phone, where he has it hidden under his desk, as the teacher begins rambling about verbs, or something. Michael isn’t really sure anymore because he’s got a new snap from Jeremy.

A smile teases at his lips as he hunches forward and clicks to view the snap, but whatever trace of amusement he’s been housing drops to concern the second he sees Jeremy’s battered face across the screen with a caption that says, “ran into some trouble.”

He leaps to his feet, chair scraping loudly against the tiled floor. The teacher falls silent, and every single student turns toward him, but all Michael can see is the fear and pain coloring Jeremy’s eyes. He stumbles toward the door, fingers wrapped tightly around his keys in his jacket pocket, and he only stops when his teacher calls out to him.

“And just where do you think you’re going, Mell?”

“I…” He tries, unable to form words around the panic gripping at his heart. “I’ve got to go,” he manages before turning toward the door and racing out the hall. He can hear his teacher calling out to him, but he ignores it in favor of running toward his car as fast as his legs will allow.

*****

Consciousness is fleeting. Jeremy tries to keep his eyes open, but sleep is tugging at every edge. His entire body is numb, and his eyelids are fluttering against blurring vision. He vaguely hears someone shout his name, barely sees a red blur racing toward him, but suddenly there’s Michael crouched in front of him, cupping a hand to his face and speaking so fast that Jeremy can’t pick up on any word. Warm hands smooth gently over his arms and chest, and seconds later, Michael’s red jacket is being wrapped around his shoulders.

Next thing he knows, he’s being pulled to his feet, and the numbness from before drops way to emphasize pain across every inch of his body. A strangled gasp claws up his throat, and he wants nothing more than to fall back to the ground, but Michael’s arm is suddenly wrapped carefully around his waist. He’s being pulled toward Michael’s warmth, and despite how badly it hurts, Jeremy leans into Michael, and the two stumble out of the alley and toward Michael’s car.

*****

Jeremy wakes to muffled arguing. He pries his eyes open, squinting against bright lights that burn his pupils. He forces his vision to cooperate, and it doesn’t take long to catch onto that he’s in a hospital. There’s an IV stuck into his arm, and while moving hurts, it’s nothing like the pain he previously felt. He’s finding it rather concerning, though, that breathing brings a sharp pain to his sides. He assumes it’s his ribs, and the thought brings back vivid images of the man and the knife and the kicking.

His heart begins to race, if the increasing beeping of the heart monitor is any hint, and he’s only pulled from gripping thoughts by Michael’s sharp voice from the hallway.

“I don’t care!”

Jeremy swallows thickly and glances toward the door. He can’t see, but Michael sounds mad, frustrated.

“Son, I understand what you are saying, but we need-”

“I don’t care what you need! He was mugged for fuck’s sake! Can’t he have a day to recover before you and your crew go barging in with questions?!”

The conversation to follow is quieter, so much that Jeremy cannot hear, but moments later, his door is being opened very slowly, and Michael steps in.

For a moment, neither say a word; they only stare at one another as if in deep, silent conversation, but Michael caves, worried face breaking way to a wide expression of relief.

“Jeremy.”

Jeremy can’t feel the tears slipping down his cheeks, but Michael can see, and in just seconds, Michael is easing himself gently down onto the edge of the bed and cupping Jeremy’s cold hand in his warm one.

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re okay.”

Jeremy knows this; he knows he’s okay. He’s not sure why he’s crying. He’s never been too fond of crying in front of Michael. He nods, sniffling quietly, and Michael’s hand tightens around his hand.

“Sorry,” he finally gets out along a shaking breath. “I just… You know…” He doesn’t want to say that he’s terrified, but luckily, he and Michael always work on the same wave length, so he doesn’t have to say. Michael knows. Michael always knows.

“You scared the shit out of me,” Michael opts to say in hopes to lighten the mood, and Jeremy lets out a weak laugh.

“The guy got mad at me because I only had seven dollars in my wallet. For some reason, he still took my wallet.”

“Guess we will have to find new matching wallets.”

Jeremy shakes his head, a small smile pulling at his lips. This is what he needs, he thinks. A sense of normalcy. Tomorrow will bring cops. A few days later, and he will have to go back to school, where everyone will already know that he’s been mugged.

But, right now? He’s here with Michael, and his father is on the way. His body hurts, he’s short seven dollars, but Michael’s here.

He leans forward and drops his forehead against Michael’s shoulder despite the pain it brings to his sides. “Thanks for rescuing me.”

“Seems like I’ve been doing that a lot recently.”

Jeremy knows Michael is referring to the play. “You’re good at it,” he says, and Michael breathes out a deep laugh.

“Yeah? I’ll keep being your superhero so long as my superhero name is really cool. Like, a mix between Captain America and Spider-Man kind of cool.”

Jeremy looks up with a smile teasing at his lips. “So, Captain Man or Spider-America?”

Michael laughs again, lighter and full of amusement. “We’ll work on it.”

[boreum-dal]

soul to keep, ch. 4

summary: marinette dupain-cheng is no stranger to unusual situations. a ghost wandering into her bedroom and pulling her into the mystery of who he was and how he died, however, is a touch out of the ordinary for her–and falling in love with him might just take the cake. ghost!adrien au.

genre: romance with equal parts (hopefully) humor and angst

cross-posted: ao3

previous: i | ii | iii

next: v

—

iv.

Marinette opened one eye, and then the other. Bright light poured into her bedroom, and for a millisecond, a wave of panic engulfed her before she realized that it was Saturday; there would be no public humiliation for her tardiness today.

Her pillow sighed as she sank back into it, now too awake from the brief adrenaline rush to fall back asleep. She couldn’t remember what she’d dreamt, but she was certain it had been about Chat. Something about the way he’d looked back at her last night, the outline of his face barely visible as he’d insisted he was all right, even as he was surely not, had ensured that the image would stay ingrained in Marinette’s mind for some time.

She threw her forearm over her eyes.

From her loft, Marinette heard her bedroom door creak open below her.

“Marinette?”

Sabine Cheng climbed carefully up the loft and made her way to Marinette’s bed, sitting just at the foot of it. The process was very slow—she had never liked heights very much.

Marinette removed her arm from her eyes and sat up. She knew where this was going. In addition to heights, Sabine had never liked conflict much, either. “Good morning, Maman.”

Sabine smoothed some of the wrinkles in the duvet where she sat. “Did you sleep okay?”

Marinette nodded. She bunched up the the sheets in her hands and then released them.

Sabine leaned forward on one hand and reached out to brush some of Marinette’s hair out of her face. Kind brown eyes crinkled as her lips curved into a remorseful smile. “You must be hungry after not eating any dinner.”

Marinette’s stomach gurgled, just so that only she could hear it, but she shook her head. “I got some leftovers out of the kitchen late last night.” She sucked in her cheeks before letting out a long breath. “I’m sorry, Maman. I shouldn’t have done what I did yesterday.”

Her mother scooted closer and wrapped Marinette in a hug. “I’m sorry, too.”

“For what?”

“It’s tough to be your age. Teenagers can be very mean to each other. Your father and I should have been more understanding.”

Marinette laughed and brushed at an eye with the back of her hand. “Not all teenagers. Just Chloé Bourgeois.”

Sabine hid a smile behind her hand. “I'd say she couldn't be that bad, but what do I know?" Marinette knew that Sabine had witnessed Chloé's diva behavior in person on more than one occasion when the girl had barged into the bakery for her parents' famed pastries. "Do you have plans today? I thought we could go to breakfast together—I could use some time out of the bakery.”

Marinette was delighted. Her parents rarely ever left the bakery during business hours. “I have to meet Alya for a movie around noon, but that’s it.”

Sabine clapped her hands together. “Great! Get dressed and I’ll meet you downstairs. We’ll stuff ourselves, and then I’ll drop you off.”

Marinette smiled and hopped out of bed as her mother left the room. Outside, it looked like it might storm, but all the gloom inside her had disappeared. As she wandered down her loft and to the bathroom to get ready, she caught herself hoping, out of nowhere, that Chat would stay dry in the rain.

---

Chat Noir meandered down a neat row of townhomes, turning his head this way and that in hopes that he’d recognize something. A few days ago, he’d stumbled across a large house in a lavish neighborhood, and somehow, it had made him feel a rush of familiarity. Unsure whether it was the size, the neighborhood, or the architecture that had seemed to trigger his memory, he’d returned to that neighborhood again and again, but he hadn’t felt the same pang—not even when he returned to the same house that had started it all. Now, he was trying the neighboring area, but it felt like a fruitless search. And with yesterday’s memory replaying over and over in his head—it was hard to focus on anything else when he only had a few memories stored up—he found it exceedingly difficult to focus.

With a sigh, he trudged up to the stone steps in front of one of the homes and sat himself down on it, briefly wary of being stared at before remembering that no one except for Marinette could see him. The clouds clapped loudly above him for the third time that morning, and before he could blink, he suddenly saw droplets of water begin to dot the ground. He watched as they fell faster and faster, going right through him but making him feel cold, all the same. And he could smell it—sweet, almost like the earth had been baking. It threw him, how he could remember this smell, how—

“Now, look at paragraph four and read it back to me, please.”

His gaze fell, reluctantly, to the book before him. It was so hot and so bright. The words seemed to jumble together. It was so hot, and he just wanted a cup of juice and to go outside for a little while, just to play for a little bit—

“___________.”

He looked up at the sound of his name.

The woman adjusted her glasses and sighed. “You’ve already had your break today. Paragraph four, please.”

But he was so hot and so restless and so tired of trying to read. He felt his lips start to quiver, but he forced himself to straighten them out into a thin line. Maman had said that crying was for young boys, boys younger than nine, and he’d just turned nine recently, so he couldn’t. But even as she’d said that, he remembered how she had let him hug her skirt and ruin it with his tears so many times.

“____________, I won’t ask again. Don’t make me tell your father.”

He didn’t like the sound of that. Slowly, he began to sound out the words. The tutor had said this book was for fourteen-year-olds. Why was he reading this again? He rubbed an eye.

“How about I take over for a bit?”

He turned to see his mother in the doorway, and joy welled up inside of him. With a nod, the tutor left the room, and his mother came in and sat beside him, smiling at him with her patient smile.

“_____________, were you being a bad student?”

He shook his head no.

She rumpled his hair. “Of course you weren’t. I think I know what you need so we can focus and get you through today’s lesson. Why don’t we take a break and go outside and play for ten minutes?”

His eyes lit up. “Yes, please.”

“Okay, go get your shoes on and I’ll meet you out in the yard,” his mother said, her smile conspiratorial now.

He got up and ran out into the yard as fast as he could—he’d been spending the last few days trying to perfect his cartwheel, and he wanted to be able to show his mother—and then he looked up, suddenly realizing it was still very hot, but no longer very bright. Dark clouds crowded the sky.

His mother came out just as the first drops of rain started to fall.

“Now we can’t play,” he said, frowning.

“Sure, we can,” his mother responded cheerfully.

“But we’ll get all wet.”

“That’s okay!” She looked up, blinking against the raindrops. “It smells so nice out here during a summer storm.”

He sniffed the air—it smelled like Maman’s cookies, somehow—and begrudgingly agreed.

His mother bent down so that she could see his eyes and slicked some of the hair out of his face. “Now, show me your cartwheels, and then let’s get you inside and dry.”

Chat jolted, as if he’d been touched by something he hadn’t expected to touch him. Although his mother’s face was already fading from his memory while everything else remained vivid, he felt a thrill when he realized that he now had a concrete recollection of one of his parents. And she seemed, from the brief vision, anyway, like a good parent, not at all what he’d expected after the memory he’d gained yesterday. This made him feel strangely buoyant.

He looked down at his hands, which, sure enough, looked slightly more solid, more tinged with apricot than the day before. The rain was still falling through them. He wondered vaguely if, before he’d died, he could still do a cartwheel.

---

Marinette rushed up the sidewalk of the movie theatre, where Alya stood waving two tickets in her hand.

“Sorry!” Marinette said between breaths. “I was having a long talk with my mom because my parents and I got into a fight last night, and—”

Alya raised a brow. “Everything okay?”

“It’s fine now. Are we late?”

Alya checked her watch. “Almost! But you made it here with a minute to spare till previews!” She grinned. “Good job.”

Marinette let out a little woop and threw her arm around Alya’s shoulder. “Let’s go, then!”

As the two navigated their way through the theatre, stopping by the concession area to purchase several boxes of candy before making their way to their screening room, Marinette reveled in the freedom of not being in the midst of a bad day. They settled into their seats and traded candy boxes as the trailers began to roll. Since they were watching a horror film, many of the previews that came on were for other horrors or thrillers, already making the atmosphere of the dark screening room a little bit creepier. Marinette didn’t spook at the movies too easily, but some of these trailers really seemed to amp up the scary factor, and as the music of the trailer currently on the screen began to crescendo—

The seat on Marinette’s left, which had been empty, suddenly filled. The music came to an abrupt halt, and Marinette looked at the seat and found herself staring into green eyes. A loud crash played over the speakers as the face of a demon flashed over the screen, and Marinette let out what she could only describe as an alarmed yip—and just like that, Chat Noir disappeared as quickly as he had come.

Alya poked Marinette’s arm on her right. “Are you okay?”

Marinette looked over at her friend, realizing that her heart was thumping very quickly against her chest and that she’d just spilled her gummy bears all over her lap. “Y-yeah, why?”

“I know the trailer was kind of creepy, but you look like you just saw a ghost.”

Marinette let out a nervous laugh. “Funny you say that.” She swallowed. “I just—these previews have really been upping the intensity. I guess I got a little scared.”

Alya looked at her dubiously. “You’d better get ready, then. I heard this movie is supposed to scare the pants off of us.”

“O-oh, good. I can’t wait,” Marinette said, but her mind was already elsewhere. Why had Chat shown up here? And why hadn’t he said anything? She hoped everything was okay.

---

That night, Marinette pulled herself onto the roof and breathed in the summer air, whose sweetness was enhanced by the residual smells of the bakery below and the rainstorm from earlier in the day. She looked around the patio, and almost immediately, her eyes landed on Chat’s sub-solid form, sitting on the ledge. She could see the outline of his legs, each one wedged between a bar of the railings and swinging back and forth over the edge of the roof. Gratitude, cool and soothing, filled her chest. She was always worried about hurting him or having hurt him.

“Hi, there,” she said, and she walked over and sat beside him, mimicking his pose exactly.

“Hello,” he said pleasantly. “I’m sorry if I frightened you earlier.”

Marinette shook her head. “I’m sorry if I made you feel unwelcome.”

“You didn’t. To tell you the truth, I didn’t even mean to show up where you were. I just—I just found you.”

Marinette turned to look at him now, staring at the outline of his face. She could make out more of it, she thought, ever so slightly—she wondered if he’d had another recollection since she’d seen him last night. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” Chat said, legs still swinging, “the first time I ever found you, there was this…light coming from where you were. I followed it to you, and there you were—and you could see me. And ever since then, it’s always there, somewhere, in the background, no matter where I am.”

“A light?”

“Yes. It’s hard to explain. But it leads me to you.”

Marinette chewed on this in silence. A light. She wasn’t one to believe in magic, even after almost a week spent befriending a ghost. But she couldn’t seem to come up with any kind of scientific explanation for it.

Chat seemed to take her silence as irritation, rather than bewilderment. He said, somewhat apologetically, “Most of the time, until I know it’s time to come over when you’re actually expecting me, I ignore it. But today… I just wasn’t thinking, and I followed it, and I found you.” He paused. “I’m sorry.”

“No!” Marinette said quickly. “No, no! Don’t apologize. It’s okay! I’m just confused, I guess. I don’t know what to make of this. You’re the first magical thing to ever come into my life, you know. And then suddenly I’m emitting supernatural ghost lights for no reason? It’s a lot to take in and try to understand.”

“Tell me about it,” Chat said, and Marinette could see him holding out his hands before him.

They both laughed, and then they were silent again, Marinette lost in her questions about the light. What could it mean?

“Marinette.”

“Yes?”

“Being out with your friends like that today—do you do that a lot?” Chat’s voice was shy and curious, like he’d been dying to ask her since she’d first stepped out onto the roof.

Marinette pursed her lips. “I guess I do, when I think about it.” She tilted her head. “Do you think you did, too, when you were alive?”

Marinette had a sinking feeling that she knew the answer before Chat would even respond.

“No,” he said, and to her shock, he said it with quite a bit of certainty.

“Wh-what makes you so sure?”

Chat stared out at the city, over the rooftops of the buildings before them. “A couple of things. Today, I had a memory where I was being homeschooled. I was very young, but I don’t think anything changed as I got older. And secondly… Well, you and I are friends, right?”

Marinette nodded.

He turned his eyes to her. Inexplicably, although Marinette thought she could see sadness there, it also looked as if he might be smiling. “This is all very new to me, you see. And… I feel like, if it weren’t a new thing—if I’d had lots of good friends when I was alive—it wouldn’t feel this way. Unfamiliar and exciting, I mean. And I think it would’ve triggered a memory of other friends, from when I was living.”

Marinette was quiet. It was hard to argue with that, and it was even harder to come up with a response that didn’t sound pitying or fake or totally useless. So, instead of speaking, she leaned back and settled a hand over where she could see the outline of his. Of course, it went straight through to the floor of the patio.

Chat’s eyes moved downward, toward their hands, and then back up to Marinette. “Thanks.”

A corner of Marinette’s lips quirked up into a half-smile. “It'd be better if I could actually touch you.”

Chat let out a quiet laugh. “It's the thought that counts.”

They were silent for a while, allowing the sound of cars passing by on the streets below and of Marinette’s breathing to fill the air between them. Marinette felt overwhelmed with the volume of information she did not know about Chat, his life, his afterlife, and the enormity of the task before her. She kept finding herself trying to resolve the situation by approaching it as if he were alive, and therein lay the problem: if he were alive, there would be no mystery to solve.

And even so, if he were alive, she could at least fix his loneliness. She could introduce him to Alya and Nino and some of her other classmates, and they could fold him into their world and keep him so busy that he hardly had time to worry about anything else. And most of all, he'd feel appreciated, something she suspected he'd been lacking in his lifetime.

Marinette chewed on her lower lip thoughtfully. She would look crazy if she tried to explain to Alya that she'd befriended a ghost. But, she thought, they'd enjoyed a relatively judgment-free lifelong friendship, and it wouldn't be the first time one of them had told an unbelievable story to the other. It’d just be the first time that the story turned out to be true.

She let out a sigh. Right, then.

“Chaton.”

“Yes?”

“Maybe it’s time to show you to my friends.”

---

i feel like i should have posted this chapter on mother's day or something. alas, timing is not my forte.

next time: marinette and chat experiment with the physics of ghost rules so they can prove to alya and nino that he's real. much trial and error (emphasis on error) ensues.

thank you to everyone for supporting this fic so far! i'm so happy people are finding it entertaining and not just plain bizarre, haha. i've never been the best at updating quickly, but as chapters for this are so short and so fun to write, hopefully, i'll be relatively regular on these. :) see you next chapter!

[vybright]

More from my supernatural/paranormal experience ---past journal entries

I have been keeping this to myself for a long time. Mostly because I didn't want to be seen as psychotic. Much of this may be hard to believe but I promise it is true. This is truly my last resort. Reddit. The internet. Anything. I hope you're open minded enough to believe what I am going to tell you.

A few years ago I decided to start using a pendulum. At first, I just asked it yes or no questions. I was basically using it for an endless stream of advice. I decided to veer off into the deeper side and ask who I was speaking to. I used the alphabet to communicate with it. It was a drawn out process but I continued because I was getting actual words and sentences. I then asked it for its name. It calls itself Urryg or Uryyg Klid Joxerstov. It then started to tell me all these whimsical things about "who I truly was", that my name was actually Rofila Marquros and I believed it for years. Mind you, it tried to convince me that I wasn't human and that I had a whole other amazing life outside of this life that I couldn't remember. Because it was all the things I wanted to hear, I continued using it nearly obsessively. I carried the thing everywhere I went. Asked it everything. Talked to it. Journaled about it. I developed a relationship with something I couldn't see.

Gradually, I started to get into meditation, yoga learning about Thoth and the akashic records and ascended masters. It encouraged me to "elevate myself " to challenge myself so I started off on a little journey to do so. It or he seemed so kind. It seemed innocent. I began meditating for 30 minutes a day and began noticing something very strange. My head began nodding from side to side and in circles seemingly on it's own. It was strange but I could feel a sort of pressure or force manipulating my head. Although it was very unusual, I continued experimenting. I thought it was some kind of transcendental kundalini energy experience despite not finding anything like it on the internet.  Soon, my entire upper body was moving from side to side and in circles as I meditated. Knowing what I know now, that should have been my first sign to stop immediately.

This year, back in late January early February, I decided to start meditating using marijuana. I wanted my body as relaxed as possible. I occasionally used it before but in really small amounts and usually around friends. This time I brought it home to experiment alone. The first time I used it, my upper body was dancing in circles. My arms began moving too. It should have been scary but I was so excited. I thought I had discovered something that could elevate me like Urryg the pendulum being told me to do.

Several days later, I smoked again but this time I smoked nearly an entire joint. I had never done that before alone. Oddly enough, I didnt feel very high. Thats why I ended up smoking most of it. All of a sudden I started getting this very unusual slow motion vibration sensation all over my body. It felt kind of like time slowed down. My entire body began moving rhythmically so I followed it. Eventually it turned into this very sensual dance in which I  was being led by something I couldnt see but could feel. My body was so relaxed that I flowed with it. I wish I could have recorded it. I let it move me and I was utterly enamored. I couldnt believe it was happening. It was truly miraculous! This time, my entire body was being manipulated not just my arms and head. It was very bizarre.

Strangely enough when I tried to show my boyfriend, I couldnt show him the dance (I didnt reveal to him that an invisible force was moving me but that I had just learned it), but It just stopped moving me. It was then that I started to think that maybe I should keep it a secret. When no one was around, I let the invisible force move my body to experiment. You probably would too if it were happening to you. It was very captivating and exciting.

Anyway, long story short it began speaking to me through my mouth. It called itself "EYE" or "I". Calling itself "Me" and "We". Telling me that it was an Angel and there were demons and portals opening and that I needed to keep myself safe because I was "special". Mind you i'm not religious. It pretended like it was helping me. I did a lot of stuff that was questionable to my family. But eventually I stopped believing what it was telling me. When I did, it decided to keep changing the story because I was trying to figure out what it was since it was able to control my body (to a certain degree. It was limited), control my thoughts and speak through my mouth. It used my ignorance and innocence against me by lying over and over again. It pretended to be the devil, God, Angel's, Aliens. You name it, I guessed it. Eventually, I wanted it to leave me alone but frustratingly, it stayed.

I became so mentally exhausted because I spent so much time lying to my family about it and hiding my interactions with it. I eventually ended up with intrusive thoughts because it policed every thought I had. Its awful. I continued to use the pendulum on and off to see if I could have some guidance (mind you, I believed that the entity that I was communicating with using the pendulum was my ally) but I kept getting rid of it because it would give me inconsistent responses. I had nowhere to turn. No one to trust with what what I knew.

Later on, I began to experience strange physical sensations in my head, eyes, throat, chest, stomach, and groin.  I attested it to anxiety but they were too infrequent and tended to happen when I upset it. It started to put strange images in my mind, coherent voices,  controlled my thoughts, gave me jumbled thoughts to confuse me,  learned my thought process to the point that it was speaking WITH me and I could tell. It would try to change what I was saying, control my hand when I would listen to music or scroll through social media. It knew everything about me. It even gave me these strange dreamlike things that would happen upon waking. One of them was this strange message that none of this was real, meaning the world around me wasnt real. This entity laughed with me, cried with me, and confused me badly. My whole life was weighed down and turned upside down by its presence and I couldn't figure out how to make it go away.

I suddenly began experiencing what I thought were astral projections but after research and experience I realized that they were way too detailed, too vivid and and too intense. They occured at certain times of the day as well. I couldn't find a single AP that was similar to mine. They had to be something else. I traveled through space, visited other planets, dimensions, interacted with other beings. I saw and spoke to angels. Im even pretty sure I shared a thought space with a girl from California. It was so very strange.

Fast forward to today, i began to use my pendulum again but it finally confessed that it was the entity behind the pendulum. After putting things together, I started to believe that it was possibly trying to take my body and disconnect me from my body so that I would die in my sleep and it would carry on in my body and no one would know otherwise because it learned me so well. It's a little paranoid sounding but after what I've been through, anything seems possible. I finally figured out that those sensations I had been feeling were my chakras. My crown chakra and throat chakra are the most active at this point. I believe that this was how it was able to do what I did to me.

All I know is that it I related to that pendulum and it ruined my life. Please avoid pendulums and the like especially if you're not protecting yourself.

If anyone else has had a similar experience, PLEASE reach out to me. It's so lonely and scary experiencing this.

IMPORTANT NOTE: I realized that the entity is also related to the lights/aircrafts that I see in the sky. My mom sees them too so I know i'm not seeing things. I living Detroit near downtown. They look like airplanes but they hover and move slower and appear out of thin air. Ive seen over 5 or 6 of them at a time. I cant believe it doesnt make the news. Anyway, it knew exactly where to look (using my head) and an aircraft would appear. It was disturbing.

[aroutineache]

What’s Your Favourite Language Learning App? ﹅ Discussing the FREE Language Learning Apps I’ve Been Using “pour le français

http://aroutineache.com/whats-your-favourite-language-learning-app-discussing-the-free-language-learning-apps-ive-been-using-pour-le-francais/

I want to know another language, and I want to know it now! (“Je veux savoir la langue française, et je veux le savoir maintenant !”) However, that has been the case all along… Maybe some other time I’ll explain all the reasons I why I decided to start with le français in my mission to become bilingual… and then, maybe, even multilingual—but let me not get ahead of myself, yet.

Unfortunately, learning a second (“… ou une langue nouvelle …”) isn’t as “facile” as downloading a second dialect unto your computer (“votre ordinateur”) or phone (“votre téléphone”), mais c’est une grande partie de ce qui rend l’apprentissage si génial, et si gratifiante et enrichissante. Aussi, there are apps you can download to help you get some non-native-language-data stored and computing in your brain. These apps include Duolingo, Memrise, and Babbel, all of which I have been utilizing pendant presque deux semaines, and all of which I will discuss further below (alongside some other options in Part 2).

Duolingo

Duolingo uses gamification to make language acquisition fun, personalized, and accessible! You earn points that translate to what they call “lingots,” by completing lessons or by maintaining 10-day streaks, and you can then spend these “lingots” at the Shop (perhaps you’d like to purchase a Flirting lesson, or learn some new Idioms and Proverbs; race yourself against the clock with a Timed Practice, or maintain your streak despite missing a day by purchasing a Streak Freeze…). You can also earn badges by completing specific tasks, such as earning 200 XP in a day, maintaining a 30-day streak, completing 20 lessons or practices without getting anything wrong, or “working overtime” (completing a lesson before 7 a.m., or after 10 p.m.).

What I Like About Duolingo is the Daily Goal chart! You don’t have to set big goals to play, and learn, with Duolingo; it’s up to you whether you want to set your Daily Goal to 1 XP per day (Basic, about 5 minutes/day), 50 XP+ per day (Insane, 20+ minutes/day), or somewhere in between, but regardless of what your goal is, the app will track your productivity on a chart in the corner for you. What sort of information does this chart host? Good question; Duolingo tracks (and clearly displays for you) how many points you have left to earn to complete your daily goal, how many hours you have left to complete your daily goal, and how many points you’ve earn today compared  to the last seven via an easy-to-read line graph.

Other perks of Duolingo include the include the introduction and repetition of numerous vocabulary words (especially nouns and adjectives, plus pronouns) and conjugations (verbs) ranging from categories such as “Basics” and “Plurals,” to “Phrases,” “Animals,” and “Weather,” all the way to “Medical,” “Politics,” “Technology,” “Economics,” and “Spiritual,” to name a few. As well as its facilitation of an acquired, natural understanding of grammar rules. At times, using this app, you may find yourself realizing you understand what seems to sound “right” or “wrong” without being able to pinpoint the moment you learned the rule governing such.

What You Might Not Like About Duolingo is it’s sometimes wrong. The female speaking voice struggles the words “tu aS” and “le porC,” pronouncing the last, should-be-silent letters, and “le singe,” and “un œuf” as her voice cracks, and, regardless of these examples, I find it to be a less effective app in terms of pronunciation (when compared to Memrise and Babbel). Lastly, at moments the app might feel a little dry. Sure, it’s gamified, but there are times when it seems more like a chore than a challenge to complete a category. Be careful when powering-through, though; it’ll be up to you afterwards to maintain the vocabulary you built by going back and hitting “Practice”.

On the bright side… You can conveniently report any errors you find within the app’s lessons, and have the option to discuss any specific question or task, and its answer, with the entire Duolingo community by leaving a comment.

You’ll Like This App if you are brand new to the language you are set on learning. I can personally attest that it provides a very good entry point—both simply and enjoyably! On the other hand, if you are not new to the language you’re studying, but are still looking to practice in a fun-and-easy way, perhaps further build your diction, or sharpen your grammar skills and understanding via observation Duolingo provides a placement test that adapts to your level by getting harder (or easier) based on your answers. I have provided the link for the French placement test (x), however some of the most popular languages on the app include English, Spanish, German, Italian, Russian, and Japanese.

(tina’s tip) : As soon as you earn five lingots, head over to the Shop and place a wager, Double or Nothing. “Attempt to double your five lingot wager by maintaining a seven day streak.” This’ll keep you coming back daily for a week, even on that day you really don’t want to!

(tina’s tip) : To work on your fluency from beginning, practice saying the French meaning out loud, even when you are typing or reading the English translation. As well, try not to repeat playing the audio before you’ve finished typing your translation (and try to use the faster audio when you can). (For pronunciation reasons, feel free to utilize the ability to repeat and slow down audio!)

(tina’s tip) : To practice your pronunciation, slowly repeat a sentence word-by-word when individual audio is available before attempting to recite the entire sentence perfectly. It’s okay if you need to repeat difficult words or word-combos slowly, and over and over!

Memrise

Memrise is really interesting! Not only does the app gamify learning a new language, and thus incorporate fun and community, like other language-aid apps, it incorporates scientific research regarding learning and memorizing anything —the techniques utilized are not exclusive to mastering a foreign language. So what are these techniques? Elaborate Encoding: Memrise uses what they call “mems,” or images to help you learn and remember by connecting new knowledge with something you already know in a vivid and sensory way (you can even create your own, personalized “mems,” as well)! Choreographed Testing: Recalling memories is what makes our brain muscles flex. It’s one of the most powerful ways to make those memories robust, durable and cogent. (Ever heard of use it, or lose it?) Therefore, Memrise is created to make its users’ brains and memories work to recall what they are learning. Scheduled Reminders: Finally, the app isn’t just set up to make you continuously practice so you won’t forget. Instead, Memrise attempts —again using scientific research and algorithms— to remind you to review (i.e. ‘recall’) at optimized times. What are “optimized times,” you ask? Another good question; an optimized time is a moment that is precisely estimated to be the point at which you are about to forget what you have learnt. If you’re still interested in this topic, you can researching “forgetting curves” to find out more for yourself.

What I Like About Memrise is that the app focusses on not just teaching, but making sure I remember what I am taught, and, then, that I can go on and use what I have memorized in sentences and discussions, such as at a restaurant (French 1). As for memorizing, the app doesn’t just keep track on what you need to review based on timing, but, also, Memrise independently tracks difficult words for you, allowing you the option to solely practice the things you get wrong most. Need extra help remembering a thing or deux? There are yet more options; select a mem (image to associate with your new and tricky word) or create your own… Here are some of my mine!

Other perks of Memrise include how verbal the app is, including a variety of voices (always at least one male, and one female) correctly pronouncing the French. And, besides memorizing, the app’s creators obviously care about applying accurate audio to assist in developing its users’ accents and listening skills (which really does help). As well, it’s improving my spelling! At times using this app, you may find yourself realizing you know exactly how to spell a word, all accents included, without ever having had put aside any dedicated thought or time to know, “Is it i before e… and where do I put the apostrophe?”.

Speaking for myself, I also find the app does a notable job of keeping my attention, and, additionally, fuelling my motivation and excitement for learning the French language. … (So far, it’s my favourite for all of these reasons.)

What You Might Not Like About Memrise is you may need some background. Well, technically, you don’t need any background to start your new-to-you-language exploration on Memrise (they’ll go over the basics, bonjour, salut, comment ça va, bonne, bien, mal, oui, non, être, avoir, au revoir, … etc., etc), it might help, and I’d, personally, suggest it.

On the bright side… When I say I think some background in the language “might help,” I don’t mean much. A little junior high school experience, some other basic, introductory Beginners’ class or video series, or a few committed days on Duolingo should be enough to get you going, especially in terms of developing a très peu de understanding of the language and its structure, before jumping onto Memrise!

You’ll Like This App if you are ready to start exploring the different types of sentences you are able to say (but have yet to say), or if you’re looking for something a little faster than Duolingo. Alternatively, this app is also a go-to suggestion for anyone looking to work on their pronunciation, or up their verb vocabulary.

(tina’s tip) : Try to go on the app daily to continue hearing the language, learning new words, and prevent missing scheduled reminders. (It’s okay if you do miss a reminder, though; you can still always catch up on your practice later!)

(tina’s tip) : Utilize the mems for pronunciation (examples). I’d imagine that most of the words I know, I learnt how to say before I learnt how to spell ’em… Also, even when a new, foreign word seems ridiculous and impossible, there’s a good chance you already know how to say it, or at least some recognizable approximation of it, by breaking it down into sounds from other words you already use all the time. After all, the French word “au” is really just “oh,” and “des ours” (bears) “day horse” (horse with a silent h, of course). More of an approximation, but “brouillard” (fog) reminds my of “boyar,” as in, Chef Boyardee. Basically, don’t let the spelling of a word be what brings you down. Reference: Y E S spells yes. What does E Y E S spell?

(tina’s tip) : Pay attention to when you finish a course, such as French 1, and are ready to move on to the next, such as French 2—you will need to go back to the “Courses” from your profile to select the next one; otherwise, the app will only have you review the material from your completed course without moving you on to the next.

Babbel

Babbel isn’t set up like a game with rounds, but instead like Courses broken into lessons with the intention of moving users along the shortest path to real-life conversation. Progressive lessons are connected together as an interlinking framework, with each step building towards the next. The app utilizes mock discussions, so you can see and practice using what you are learning in action, as well as build your vocabulary both actively and passively. The app attempts to get users to actively use passively learned words, preparing them for genuine conversations! As well, the app provides images with its lessons, practices, and translations, allowing the user to connect what they are hearing and saying to what they are seeing (i.e. what is being talked about). Finally, Babble uses the “spaced repetition” method to strengthen memory—this is similarly based on “forgetting curves” research, just like Memrise is. All you have to do is hit “Your Vocabulary” for a daily dose of recall, or go to your Vocabulary and click “Review these items” so you can increase your average distribution of words by knowledge level from a 1 (lowest-ranking) to a 6 (highest-ranking).

What I Like About Babbel is it’s review options, and the ability to personalize your method of recall from day to day by choosing to either utilize Writing or Flashcards to check if you remember your translations. I tend to learn towards the Writing option, and appreciate that if I haven’t got a clue, I can always hit the “help” button providing me with the scrambled letters of the French word I must then unscramble. Hitting “help” is still automatically marked as an error, though, which in my opinion, is a good thing—it allows me the chance to come back and try, again, to get it things right “the first time” as you can repeat all the terms you got wrong at the end of the practice. Also, the unscrambling-foreign-word task is not exclusively used in practices, but lessons, as well. Plus, expect a lot of fill-in-the-blanks. Hint: The blanks are the correct size to fit the correct text necessary to fill ’em. Although I don’t know what fuelled the choices behind including the unscrambling and fill-in-the-blank activities, I will say that while completing these exercises, they feel like they are motivated, reasonable, and helpful (as they should be).

Other perks of Babbel include the Daily Challenge (find by hitting “Home”) that encourages both review and streaks like Duolingo, and the ability to hover your mouse over most words, sentences, and phrases that  you want to hear said out loud once again; like Memrise, Babbel is a good option for strengthening both your verbal and hearing skills.

What You Might Not Like About Babbel is there’s no option just to review words that are the most difficult for you, but this can be taken as both a con and a pro (use any opportunity you can, or have to, to practice, practice, practice…). Really “the big thing,” is that it’s only a semi- or barely- free app. If you’re not willing to pay, only the first lesson of every course will be available to you, and this is a bummer because each lesson and course builds on the last. But wait (attente), didn’t I say I was going to be discussing the free language learning apps I’ve been using—not “semi- or barely- free,” but FREE? To you I say, check out the bright side (below, next line).

On the bright side… You can try a week of Babbel FREE by registering with this invite.

You’ll Like This App if you’re serious about study a new language. Courses range from Beginner’s 1 through 6, to everything Listening and Speaking-related (“Pronouncing Vowels,” “Pronouncing Consonants,” “Travel Dialogues,” “Tongue Twisters,” “Dictation Course,” “Sound Twins”), to “Conversations au Travail” (Conversations at Work) and writing “Love Letters.” … For further reference, Babbel’s  French Intermediate Courses utilize intensive listening, speaking, reading and writing at the B1 level of the Common European Framework of Reference for Languages.

(tina’s tip) : Be aware that if you close a lesson prior to completing it, the the lesson’ll re-start from the beginning! To save your progress, you’re going to have to finish the lesson; otherwise, be prepared to re-do some tasks.

(tina’s tip) : Read along with the speaker to assist yourself in breaking down a sentence into its individual words. (You’re going to need this skill to understand another language, regardless of what app you are using to get there!)

(tina’s tip) : Have fun, work your way up, and pace yourself (like you would with a game——even if you’ve got your notebook out for this one, it’s a good idea to try and enjoy what you are learning)!

In Conclusion

If I had to pick just one, it’d probably be Memrise, but I don’t “pick just one,” and that is purposeful. Doing so keeps me stimulated, and allows me the chance to see, use, and learn language in variety of places and ways. Obviously, this is a decision that I am hoping will prove to be effective… I’ll keep “vous” updated.

Merci to the featured image source et DanceTabs pour la image above ! (And, y’all be sure to stay tuned for Part 2 of Discussing the FREE Language Learning Apps I’ve Been Using “pour le français”)

﹅ How ’bout you? Est-ce que vous parlez français? Are you learning?

﹅ Do you have a preferred or favourite digital “hack” to learning a new, foreign language?

﹅ Got any French media suggestions pour moi? Feel free to comment what you know!

http://aroutineache.com/whats-your-favourite-language-learning-app-discussing-the-free-language-learning-apps-ive-been-using-pour-le-francais/

[viralhottopics]

‘Feud’ star Alfred Molina says ‘very little has changed’ for women in Hollywood

Alfred Molina as Robert Aldrich, Jessica Lange as Joan Crawford

Image: Suzanne Tenner/FX

Alfred Molina may have nabbed one of his finest roles yet, thanks to a filmmaker thats been dead nearly as long as the actors been working. Thats because director Robert Aldrich didint give Molina the part he is the part.

With a movie and TV career that spans nearly four decades including vivid and memorable appearances as Indiana Jones treacherous temple guide Savito in Raiders of the Lost Ark (Molinas film debut), the coked-out drug dealer Rahad in Boogie Nights, and the multi-armed supervillain Doctor Octopus in Spider-Man 2 Molina is delivering a star turn on FXs Feud: Bette and Joan. Ironic, considering that hes playing one of Hollywoods less remembered filmmakers.

In Feud, Aldrich is caught in the middle of the acidic war of wills between aging superstars Bette Davis (Susan Sarandon) and Joan Crawford (Jessica Lange) during the production of his 1962 horror/thriller What Ever Happened to Baby Jane?

SEE ALSO: ‘Feud: Bette and Joan’ is about so much more than Hollywood’s most infamous catfight

Today, Baby Jane is recalled as one of the finer moments from Aldrichs oeuvre more enduring in stature, perhaps, than the filmmaker himself. For while Aldrich flirted with full-on auteurism throughout his long career and made his share of top quality films including the influentially cynical Western Vera Cruz (1954), the seminal noir entry Kiss Me Deadly (1955), the Crawford-led melodrama Autumn Leaves (1956), the tense war thriller The Flight of the Phoenix (1965), the genre-defining action ensemble The Dirty Dozen (1967) and sports comedy The Longest Yard (1974) his movie resume is also a checkered one, loaded with projects that were, at best, rent-payers.

Molina portrays an Aldrich that, despite his past successes and his privileged status in Kennedy-era Hollywood, is barely hanging on to his livelihood – or genuinely creative opportunities almost to the same degree as Davis and Crawford. All three are nearly a decade or more past their primes, and desperate to wring a few more years of glory out of their Tinseltown careers.

Its a character with a deep-seated survivors mentality that Molina tells Mashable he understands and respects, even if Aldrich occasionally compromised himself to stay in the game.

What an interesting Hollywood figure today still too often overlooked for his best work for you to play, and what an interesting space he occupies between these two women at the center of the story. What was it about him that made him so compelling to you?

I think one of the first things was that very thing you just mentioned: this notion of him being caught in the center of this feud, this struggle, of these two very formidable women who are huge stars and Robert really wasnt.

Robert was always regarded very much by his peers and by the industry, as a kind of journeyman director. He worked in almost every genre imaginable. He had some successes and he had some terrible movies. He was a technician in many ways. And I dont think he ever quite enjoyed the sort of artistic esteem that a lot of other directors of his generation enjoyed. He wasnt regarded in the same kind of light as people like John Ford, or Raoul Walsh, or people like that.

He had a long career, and one that was marked by huge valleys and peaks. In fact, Im sure you know, after what happened to What Ever Happened to Baby Jane? he went on and made some very good movies into the early 70s.

So I think what makes him fascinating is that, although hes very prominent in the story, because he very much is caught in between these two women, hes sort of anonymous, and kind of in the shadows they suck all of the oxygen out of the room. Hes very much trying hard to be a referee, in a sense, between the two, and trying to keep both parties happy and satisfied.

It showed to me what happens when someone is so desperate to get the project made. His priority was always the movie. He sacrificed a marriage to make movies; he sacrificed a relationship with his children; he sacrificed many relationships in order to get movies made. He was very much a product of his time, in that sense. That was his focus, to get the work. In those days, it was possible for men to do that. We live in a very different time now.

I think what makes him interesting is how he was, to me, the epitome of a survivor. Ive always been attracted to those kinds of characters, people who are just kind of getting by, people who are struggling against all kinds of forces, whether they be physical, or emotional, or artistic, or intellectual, whatever. Its the struggle to achieve whats important in the face of what seems to be insurmountable odds.

He also has this interesting position of being morally compromised, both in his life with his family through absence and infidelity, and in the way that hes expected to keep fanning this flame of hatred between the two actresses…

I think what makes that really interesting to play, in terms of the actor playing the role, is all the kinds of conflicting emotions that turns up. As you say, he was morally compromised. He felt very guilty about it. He also was very conflicted about creating and contributing to this tension and animosity that was building between Joan and Bette, for the sake of getting better footage and so on.

I think he felt very conflicted. I think he would have much rather not have done that. But the truth is, he did do it. So hes not just morally compromised, but you could argue morally implicated. I think that kind of contradiction, that kind of paradox, is what makes characters interesting to play.

SEE ALSO: ‘Feud’ star Jessica Lange on the ways Hollywood is still failing women

I remember, years ago, being told by a director, If you make a list of everything a character does and says, and a list of everything that he does and says to other people, youll find all kinds of contradictions. Its in those contradictions, thats where all the creative meat is, in terms of playing that character.

I think theres a lot of richness there. His need to make the film, and at the same time, his obligation to his family that was one conflict. His need to survive in an industry that was forgetting him to a certain extent, and his own morality about how to do that another conflict. Theres a lot of juice in that stew, if you know what I mean.

And he had an interesting sexual and romantic life, in that its suggested very strongly that he had a relationship with Joan Crawford at some point, and we see in the show that he has a romantic fling with Bette Davis. Tell me about that: for a journeyman director, to still be able to use that position of power and his own personal charm to cultivate that aspect of his life.

It was interesting from a historical point of view, in that period, that men could get away with that. Its not so interesting that he may or may not have had all these affairs. Whats interesting is that he was living and working in an era where that was possible, and how it was taken for granted that men could do that.

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I think one of the most interesting things about the show is how it really highlights the position of women in show business and in the film industry of that era, and how very little has changed for them, in terms of how theyre perceived, how theyre used, how they are, to a certain extent, manipulated in order for the movies to make money and so on, and very little has changed. The disparity in pay scale is a perfect example of that. Also in terms of whats acceptable for women to be able to do on film, and whats acceptable for men to do on film. All of these things, these are all facts that existed then.

I think Robert clearly had all kinds of relationships with women, and certainly a relationship with both Joan and Bette at different times. I think what we tried to do in the show was to show how that was very much a product of the time, was part of his moral ambiguity, and also very typical of the era.

That desperate quality that you mentioned really comes through in the scenes that you share with Stanley Tucci as studio head Jack Warner. Its always such a delicious back and forth.

Its great fun to play, as you can imagine. Theres a kind of jousting that goes on when you get a chance to do that as an actor. And if youre working with someone whos as good as Stanley, it just raises your game.

When I was at drama school, I remember being told by one of my professors, As you go through your career, always try and work with people that are better than you. He used a tennis analogy, which was, You only get better as a tennis player if you play with people that you know are going to beat the shit out of you, because you just constantly have to raise your game. You cant sit back on your success.

Alfred Molina and Stanley Tucci

Image: fx

Stanley is such a fantastic actor. Hes so smart and fast. He thinks very quickly. He can improvise deliciously. Ive worked with Stanley before, and this is why Ive always enjoyed it so much, is that Im acting on my toes with Stanley. Im always waiting for the next surprise, and its fantastic.

Given the material that we had in Feud, it just made it even more delicious. Those scenes are so beautifully written in terms of this relationship that is not based on love or mutual respect, or even friendliness. Its a relationship thats based on a kind of mutual need, where they didnt like each other, clearly, but they both saw in the other something that the other one needed.

As the story evolves throughout the rest of the season theres an interesting shift in the statements in the room between Jack Warner and Bob Aldrich. Those scenes are just great fun to do.

Have you ever been involved in a project where the behind-the-scenes activity was anywhere near as poisonous as what we see in Feud? Youve made a lot of films and television shows over the years; has that been part of your experience?

No. Ive never experienced anything anywhere near the toxicity between two actors as on What Ever Happened to Baby Jane? and Hush, Hush, Sweet Charlotte. Ive been around actors and directors who have had issues with each other, thats for sure. But thats to be expected. That would happen I think in any job, in any company.

Ive never experienced anything quite so vitriolic or vicious or ongoing as that. Ive seen actors sort of lose their tempers, or get upset at something, but usually its over as quick as its happened. No, Ive never experienced anything quite like that.

I should rephrase that: Ive never experienced anything anywhere near that. Quite like that sounds like, Well, maybe… But no, I really havent. [Laughs]

Feud: Bette and Joan airs Sundays at 10 p.m. on FX.

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from ‘Feud’ star Alfred Molina says ‘very little has changed’ for women in Hollywood