#sometimes its ok to be a turtle and go at your own pace

[icanseethefuture333]

I watched a video of (Thewizard)Liz today about how being lazy doesn't necessarily mean you're actually being lazy, it just means your body is reacting and still processing from the trauma you experienced and that really changed my perspective on why sometimes I procrastinate and feel really depressed when I do. I never know when to allow myself to rest because I automatically think stillness = stagnation.

[morgandria]

Centering and Grounding, Pt. 1 - Centering

I don’t post a lot of “101″ topics on here, just because it’s not where my headspace is at. But it occurs to me I’ve never posted about centering and grounding, and maybe we want to talk about that. (Gods know 2020 did its’ best to keep us all off-balance with the constant parade of arsebiscuits it gave us.)

I think everyone should practice centering and grounding, period. It’s not just for the woo-woo folks. It's like stretching before a workout or sports event - it’s a foundational exercise that gets you ready to exert yourself. Centering will help you keep yourself balanced and focused on what you are doing. Grounding keeps you from getting “spacy” – it gives you something firm under your metaphorical feet, so you’re not getting lost or caught up in the energies at play around you, as well as being an external source of energy to draw upon so you are not depleting your own personal internal energy when you are doing ritual or magical workings.

Both practices have plenty of practical value, as well as their use in energy work. Centering can help you with public speaking, taking exams, performing, and managing anger and anxiety. Grounding gives you a foundation to work from - you will have an external support to help keep you balanced and focused, as well as present in the moment. Meetings, school, shopping runs, health care challenges, not sleeping well, family woes – all these things draw our energies out and leave us feeling unfocused and exhausted at the best of times, let alone right now. I can’t speak for anyone else but centering and/or grounding helps me. And it might help you, too.

Getting Started

With enough practice you may find you can center and/or ground yourself almost anywhere, but when you're first learning it’s best to get yourself somewhere where you feel safe, comfortable, and able to relax. It’s best if you’re somewhere quiet, where no-one is likely to disturb or distract you. If you need to modify your space to do this, go ahead. Lock your door, dim the lights, play something you find calming, wear something you find comfy or special to you, burn incense, hold a crystal - it’s all okay. The purpose of all that is to give yourself the best possible space to work in - it is easier to learn if you’re not fighting yourself or your surroundings. The more you practice centering, the easier it becomes to do it in less salubrious circumstances.

Get yourself situated. It doesn’t matter if you sit cross-legged, stand, lie on flat on the floor, lean against a wall, or curl up in a ball. You are just looking to maintain a comfortable position, so don’t put yourself in awkward poses or think there’s a right way or a wrong way. I’ve had students who liked to keep themselves with their back flat on the floor and their legs up the wall, and one really liked lying on their belly and drawing their arms and legs in like a turtle. I personally prefer to sit down somewhere (sometime a chair, sometimes the floor, and often my bed), drop my shoulders back, and let my spine straighten naturally (but not in a stiff or exaggerated way). You will figure out what works best for you - the whole point is that your body should be relaxed, not tense or straining.

Centering

Centering is just gathering as much of your self-awareness as you can, into a focused, ready state where you feel in command of your personal energy and best able to use it. That’s it. It’s easier for some people than others, but all of us can do it with practice.

I start by closing my eyes if I can. You’re looking to shut out the world around you and focus on your internal self. Focus on feeling your body, and how the energy is flowing through your chest, out into your limbs. Make yourself aware of what’s coming in, and what’s going out - feel it all flow through you. In the center of your body (for some the heart, for others around the solar plexus), this is where we gather our vital spiritual energy (the electrical energy of our nervous system) and the home of the engines of our physical strength (our heart and our lungs). Here energy gathers and is sent out where it needs to go. It may be flowing unevenly, fast in some places and slow in others, or you might feel as if something is blocking you. That’s okay. That’s normal.

Breathe, as slow and deep and even as you can. Focus on the center of your body, flowing out and gathering in, like the tide. You want to try to get the energy flow inside you to all be at the same pace, as much as possible. Focus on your breath, drawing in and flowing out, smooth and calm. Try to get the flow of the energy in your body to match your breathing. It should feel natural - find your own pace. Your body knows what rhythm it works best at. When you breathe in, gather up what feels tense and blocks the flow. Sweep it up as you breathe in, gathering it up from where it lingers. When you breathe out, push what blocks your flow out of you, away from your center and away from your body. Breathe out blockage, pain, and anxiety. Breathe in calm, comfort, and strength.

(This doesn’t have to be perfect. Do your best. When we’re stressed, agitated, or being affected by our situational environment, it’s going to take time to calm ourselves, and we may not calm ourselves as much as we’d like when situations are chaotic or out of our control. Just remember to breathe. You are full of energy and strength. It will be ok.)

When you feel like your breathing and your energy flow is good, calm and stable, feel the place in the center of your chest becoming more solid-feeling, dense and full. You are drawing the energy that flows around you, and condensing it, making it easier to draw upon from a central location. Focus on drawing energy to this place inside you, at your own pace, until you feel focused, aware of the energy in your body in that central place, and ready to direct and use it as you need.

If you’re someone who uses visualization techniques, they’re helpful here. I personally like to visualize my energy as a brightly coloured light and draw that coloured light into the center of my body until it’s intense and brilliant. If you don’t “see” it, don’t worry about it – not everyone is visually oriented, and it can just be a sense or feeling when it’s right. Maybe you’ll know you’ve got it when you smell ozone, or tingle or vibrate in your core, or you’ll hear bells ringing. Trust yourself - you’ll know! It should make you feel like the most you and the best you that you can be at that moment.

That’s it. That’s centering. There’s no great mystery to it. I hope that my descriptions are clear and relatively concise. Part Two will be about Grounding (and hopefully not too much far behind Part One). If you’ve got questions, feel free to ask them! Thanks for reading this far.

[skvaderarts]

Hiraeth Chapter 54: Domestic

Masterlist can be found Here!

Chapter Fifty-Four: Domestic

Note: The reception the last chapter received warmed my heart. I seriously loved reading your comments! They were so wholesome! V needed a friend, damn it! I was worried that taking a chapter for something that slow would kill the pacing, but you all seemed to enjoy it. So thank you! Coming up next, like two solid chapters of unpleasant revelations and plan making. Boy oh boy, is this a blast to read. I can’t wait to see the horror on your faces in the next chapter. Well, not literally, but you get the idea lol XD

(-~-)

Sun pierced the thin shear shroud that hung over the window like a bridal veil, blanketing the room in semi-darkness. What little light shone through was just enough to disturb the occupant of the room who turned to the side in an attempt to avoid the blinding light that he suddenly found in his eyes. Even with them closed, his eyes still didn’t find pleasure in the presence of the outside light. It seemed that being part devil was enough to make one a bit photosensitive. But considering that devils were creatures of darkness, that made perfect sense.

He couldn’t remember the last time that he had slept so well, turning his head to the left to discover that the love of his life was indeed still in the bed with him. Her arms were wrapped around his waist, head buried in his chest and shoulders. It was honestly difficult to see anything more than the top of her head from under the covers, her satire compared to his placing her much lower in the bed than himself. It would never stop being funny to him that she was so put together when she was awake but was so entirely capable of decimating a bed cover when she was asleep. Quite the juxtaposition if you asked him.

It was early in the morning still, so that made sense. She had no reason to be up yet, and she more than deserved her rest. The children wouldn’t awaken until the smell of breakfast made its way up to their room. And if he remembered correctly, it was Saturday. Crepe day. Perhaps he could just lay here and pretend to be asleep until it was time to devour them?

But it was not to be so. A moment later she turned over, releasing her and popping her head out from under the bed covers like a turtle’s head exiting its shell. He resisted the urge to giggle like a schoolchild at the sight, instead turning over onto his back as he raised his right arm over his face in a bid to block the morning light. They genuinely needed some blackout curtains. The sun was just awful this time of year.

“Goodmorning, Nero. Are the boys awake yet?” She yawned deeply as she stretched her arms over her head, her face down in the pile of about eight pillows that she had insisted upon buying and knitting little pillow covers for. He could barely understand her due to how muffled her voice was, but he’d caught the gist of it easily enough. It seemed that despite the fact that she was speaking, she wasn’t quite awake yet. He’d yet to see a single eyelid open.

Mornin’, Kyrie. Hope you slept half as good as I did.” Nero slid up into a sitting position, stretching his arms over his head, stretching. He’d arrived late last night, just before the boys had been sent off to bed. And just in time to let them taste the leftover pasta he’d brought from his older brother’s house for them to try. “No, they’re still asleep. Haven’t heard anything yet. Probably because it’s still so early.”

“Oh. I hadn’t noticed.” She turned in the general direction of the window, her eyes still mostly shut. She seemed to be making an effort to squint, though. “What time is it?”

Nero looked over at the clock on the bedside table. He still didn’t understand why it was on his side of the bed. Kyrie was the only thing he wanted to wake up to. (Oh my god I’m soo cheesy please help.) “It’s a little past 6 am.”

Bolting upright, Kyrie’s eyes were suddenly very open indeed, the young woman clearly startled by her partner’s answer. That had not been the answer that she had been hoping to receive. “Oh no oh no oh no… I’m so sorry! I’ll go make breakfast right away!”

In her haste to get out of the bed, she became tangled in the blankets, tumbling forward. Nero quickly migrated towards the edge of the bed, confused and probably unreasonably worried considering the fact that they were on a floor covered in a plush rug. “Kyrie are you ok-”

“Whoops. Silly me. I guess I’ll have to make up the bed before I get started.” She giggled uncomfortably, squelching her head down between her shoulders as she smiled in obvious embarrassment, he cheeks turning a bright pink that only served to highlight her pretty freckles. “I’m alright. Not to worry.”

The youngest descendant of the dark Knight Sparda let out a sigh of relief, sliding over the side of the bed to help her up. There had been little potential for actual harm to come to her, but he was still glad that she hadn’t hit her head on the wardrobe or something. The last thing he wanted was to see Kyrie come to any sort of harm.

“Forget about the bed. I can take care of that. Are you sure you’re okay?” He stood up and grasped both of her hands in his own, pulling her carefully to her feet. Kyrie had a habit of being slightly clumsy when she was in a hurry, something that this little scare had definitely made obvious. He was just glad that she seemed to be just fine. It was far from the worst thing he’d ever seen happen to her, much to his distaste and her misfortune. What had gotten her so flustered in the first place? “What’s going on?”

She giggled in embarrassment again, closing her eyes for a moment as she scratched the back of her head. A stray strand of bed hair snagged on her nail, coaxing a small yelp from her as she rubbed the spot in question. She then let out another small yawn, her eyes watering slightly as she rubbed the last of the sleep from them. “Nothing. I’m fine. I just don’t want to make you late, so I meant to get up about an hour ago to make breakfast. I know you said you have something important to do with your father today, and I don’t want to hold you up, but I don’t want to send you out the door hungry, either.”

Nero blinked in confusion. And then he paled. Oh no, he had totally forgotten about that! He wasn’t late just yet, but he absolutely saw her point. There were supposed to be making a plan to deal with Belial today, sometime within the next two hours! He hadn’t given it a single thought since he’d woken up. His only thoughts had been on the delicious breakfast that he was so looking forward to.

Hurrying down the stairs, kyrie ran off to prep whatever she was going to need to make breakfast before Nero left. They had just under an hour and a half before he needed to be back at V’s house, so she was going to need to hurry if he was to leave on time. And unfortunately, crepes were not one of those things that could be hurried, much like many of the dishes from the food’s country of origin. But to be fair, that was what made them so enjoyable to eat.

Quickly throwing the blankets back onto the bed and layering them into something vaguely akin to a satisfactory condition, Nero headed after her. He couldn’t really cook. Okay, he couldn’t cook at all. He’d once burned the water they had been planning to use to cook some pasta with, and Kyrie had tried her level best and somewhat failed not to burst into hysterical laughter. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t help her in some way.

As Nero made his way down the last stair and crossed the threshold into the living room, he caught sight of the clock. 6: 37 am. It was barely light out despite the bright light that had made its way in through the windows. That was the curse of their window position in relation to the shoreline. The water made sure that it was always too bright in their room. Nero realized he was probably the only person to not want a waterside view.

But as he turned to join her in the kitchen, something stopped him. Something had just occurred to him for the first time. The earliest ferry didn’t leave for at least another hour and a half. Even if he left right now there was no way that he could get back to V’s house before Noon; 10 am at the earliest if traffic allowed it. “Kyrie wait. Slow down. I’ll just call them. I can’t get there that early anyway unless he comes and gets me.”

Kyrie paused, clearly confused. And then a look of understanding crossed her face. “Oh, that’s right… the ferry.” She laughed to herself in embarrassment, dying inside as she realized that she’d sent them both into a panic over nothing. “I’m sorry, Nero I-”

She was quickly silenced by a surprise kiss from Nero, her body melting into his arms as he scooped her up into his arms, hugging her tightly. He didn’t need to say that it was alright. He knew that she understood. She always did. “Don’t worry about it, Kyrie. You meant well. Let’s just enjoy that breakfast before the kids wake up and Nico eats all the fruit that’s supposed to go in the food. Just you and me. Wadda ya say?”

Again, Kyrie giggled. Although this time, not from embarrassment. “That sounds like a wonderful idea, Nero. I would love that.”

Nero snuggled her tightly for a moment before releasing her, realizing that neither of them could do anything if they were not able to move. “And hey, and maybe I can help this time. It can’t go any worse than the last time, right?”

The young songstress paled. “T-that’s very true Nero. I’m sure you’re right about that.”

(-~-)

Dante and Vergil had arrived just a short while ago, the eldest of the two insisting upon heading over nearly an hour earlier than they needed to in a bid to make sure that they were not late. It seemed that the fact that the only one setting this deadline for them was the eldest Son of Sparda himself had been completely lost on him. Sometimes Dante wondered if Vergil actually thought about those sorts of things before committing himself to them. But regardless, V and Morgan were both already at the house, and Brenowin was with them, so it didn’t seem that it was going to matter much in the grand scheme of things. Only one person was coming from any distance away, and he knew that his youngest son understood the importance of being there.

It was around this time that Vergil realized that he was forgetting something. This clearly threw him for a loop and drove him slightly mad. Not having everything accounted for in his own plan was one of the things in this world that made Vergil question why he even got up in the morning. After all, if he couldn’t trust himself to get that sort of thing ringtone, then he was supremely doomed, wasn’t he? Or perhaps overthinking every minor detail was how he missed the bigger picture? At this point, he was in two minds over the subject, and that alone threatened to take his last shred of sanity.

After about a half-hour of staring at the clock, Vergil had, unbeknownst to himself, become obviously uncomfortable. Nero should have been there by now, should he not? And the wat that his eldest son was staring at him with a semi amused look on his face from the other side of the living room was not helping in the slightest. Had he missed something? Or more obviously, was there something on his shirt that he had missed? It was hard to tell what V was thinking without asking him directly.

“You’re staring at me,” Vergil stated plainly, fully aware of the fact that he was stating the obvious. He knew that V knew he knew that V was staring at him, so there was really no compelling reason to bring it up other than to point it out in the hope that he might stop doing so. He couldn’t really pinpoint why this bothered him as much as it did, but he couldn’t deny that he found it uncomfortable.

“Oh, I know.” V petted Shadow absentmindedly, the large panther occupying the space in front of him and silently commanding his attention. She seemed to be slightly on alert as a result of the strangers who were in the house. Flora she recognized, but Morgan and Bren were still a bit unfamiliar to her.

“Is that a particular reason for you doing so that I should be aware of?” Now Vergil was equal parts annoyed, anxious, and confused. Was he being unknowingly conspicuous again? That seemed to be something that he was good at.

“Perhaps. I’m wondering how long your error will take to occur to you” V said softly, scratching the backs of his familiar’s ears. If her rumbling purs were anything to go by, he was doing a more than satisfactory job. “It is an easy enough mistake to make. I imagine that you are still having quite a time with, well, the time. It takes time to acclimate yourself to something so different from what you have become accustomed to. I’m sure it simply didn’t occur to you.”

Vergil’s brow furrowed. “What didn’t occur to me?”

“Without contraries, there is no progression. Attraction and repulsion, reason and energy, love and hate, are necessary to human existence.” V said simply, more than slightly pleased with himself for finally having an opportunity to indulge in one of his favorite quotes. Well, at least to the capacity that someone might be able to understand and use for self-reflection. He’d been given ample opportunity to use it. “Requesting that someone remember to attend a meeting that they cannot get to and then forgetting yourself that the time you picked is the reason they cannot attend.”

Sirrus smirked from the armchair next to V, nearly spilling his tea as he held it up to his mouth. He understood that one. He didn’t comprehend all of the reasons for its significance at the moment, but the concept was not lost on him. Vergil looked over at him for a moment before returning his attention to his young son. He had forgotten something? “I do not follow.”

Tilting his head slightly to the side, V shifted his sitting position to accommodate his back resting upon the back of the couch, relinquishing his hold on shadow, much to the panther’s dismay. He never wanted to get off of this couch again. It was supremely comfortable. “Nero called a short while ago. It seems that you may have failed to take on of the obstacles in his path to arrival into account.”

Vergil sat there in silence for a moment before something subtle changed in his facial expression. He then stood up and withdrew Yamato as he headed towards a more open area of the house. Sirrus shook his head, reaching over to offer to refill Flora’s cup. She peeped up from her book but then shook her head politely to decline. Sirrus then turned his attention to V, silently nodding in the direction of the other empty cup on the tray. Vergil had allowed his own cup to cool off, but there was still tea left, and considering the fact that Dante was barely awake at the moment, he didn’t suppose that offering a cup of hot tea to him on a brand new and expensive couch would go over well. Besides, he and Lucia were reading as well. Best not to disturb them. “If I may?”

Looking over at him with half-lidded eyes that betrayed the late night that they’d spent conversating, V nodded. Perhaps that would help him stay awake. 

Sirrus filled the cup and set the pot down, returning to his own drink. He took a sip before continuing. “Why not tell him when Nero called?”

He now understood what Sirrus meant. He sat up to take the cup and fix it to his liking. “I wanted to see if he would come to realize his oversight. It is not always the fault of others that simple mistakes are made. That, and Nero seemed excited about breakfast.”

“Fair enough,” Sirrus said, finishing off the cup and setting it down. He had held off to allow his younger brother more time to eat? That had been kind of him, considering the circumstances at hand. He had much to lose should they not make haste in resolving this situation. Perhaps the most to lose out of all of them on a personal spectrum aside from Morgan. And even then, from what he had come to understand. After all, his newfound knowledge was why he was here today. This wouldn’t be good.

A moment later, another voice could be heard from the kitchen. It was Nero. It seemed that the Darkslayer had stepped away to remedy the situation that he had accidentally caused, and that he had now returned with his youngest son in tow. Excellent. Now they could proceed with the reason that they had all been asked here.

“Kyrie asked me to bring you these,” Nero said as he handed V a Tupperware container filled with crepes. The whole thing had been wrapped in foil in an attempt to keep them warm and preserve their texture and flavor. V sat down his drink and headed towards the kitchen to tend to them, unwilling to wait and see what they were. From the smell alone, he had some idea what was in the container, and that excited him. And only kyrie would wrap up something that was going through a portal. She was too kind.

“She also asked me to ask you how you made that pasta. She and the kids loved it.” Nero said, gesturing towards Sirrus as he sat down next to the spot where V had just been. He would return shortly. He had some concept of the importance of what was going on. After all, it centered around him for the most part. V was a lot of things, and Nero didn’t consider “inconsiderate” to be among them.

An amused look passed over the man with the red hair’s face as he shook his head. He was wondering if that dinner had actually been good, or if everyone had eaten it just to be polite. It was good to know that there were at least a few people who liked his cooking. He wasn’t sure he’d met this Kyrie or the children in question before, but that didn’t much matter to him. He was sure he would eventually under better circumstances. And it seemed that she knew Nero, so she couldn’t be all that bad. Perhaps his significant other? Were the children his? So many fascinating questions to be answered. Such a scandal! Oh, how the little things excited him. 

“It would be my pleasure. I’ll jot it down on something for you as soon as I get the chance. Or perhaps I can deliver the information to her in person?” He shrugged, waiting for V to sit down with his newfound meal. He hadn’t even made it back to the living room before he had begun to devour what seemed to be a plate of raspberry-covered crepes. He couldn’t blame him if that was the case. Cold crepes were disgusting, at least in his experience. ”But I must deliver some news to you first. I was called away late last night to attend to something troubling that is pertinent to your predicament, and I feel that you need to hear about it. It may be helpful to build our plan around.”

Vergil returned as Sirrus finished talking. “You have my attention.”

Sirrus nodded. “Good. And I shall need the attention of the rest of our house guests as well. After all, you mentioned that they are involved at dinner last night, and something tells me that from what I overheard you explain from outside of Lucia’s house that day about the attack that you both barely survived a few years back that this will not be pleasant news. And for that, I am so sorry. Settle in. This will be a long and unpleasant story. And I think that much of it shall genuinely surprise you.”

(-~-)

I wonder if any of you have made the connection between a few of the events that have occurred in the story. If not, then some of them shall be revealed in the next chapter. And I’m certain that one of them that’s coming up will genuinely surprise you all. It’s got so many messed-up layers to it that it’s probably the most DMC thing I’ve ever written on that merit alone hahaha! See you all next week for the truth and answers that I know you seek. I think devoting like two whole chapters to it was the best way to go. The flow will be much better that way. See you all in the comment section, and talk to you soon! Have a good, safe weekend!

[bluepenguinstories]

Topaz and Citrine

There was a faint red glow in my bedroom that thew me out from my slumber. Such a light must have come from outside my window, but the blinds were closed, curtains over the blinds. Not only that, but I just lacked the energy to take a peek.

It was upon turning my head that I noticed the door and behind that door, the glow was much brighter, and a deeper shade of red.

My mouth was dry. I felt a cold sweat run over me. But there was no reason for fear, and no reason for such a reaction. Any other day, that door was the bridge between my bedroom and the rest of my apartment.

The door was open.

Go on, boy, words flew into my head, a light breeze in early spring. Once you go through the door, you can no longer return to your old familiar world.

At the time, I believed that voice to be my own. Random intrusions of thoughts pervaded, due in part because I woke up in the middle of the night. It could happen to anyone, the way our minds go wild sometimes.

Still, as if in a trance, I found myself at the edge of my bed, a pair of skinny jeans in hand which I had thrown on the floor the night before. I slipped into them, then my socks and shoes. In hand was my phone, which I dropped into my pocket. Then, in my other pocket, a switchblade knife. While I wasn’t quite ready to believe there was any danger, other than my sleep deprived mind, it couldn’t hurt to bring something to defend myself with.

So I stepped through, and as soon as I did, the air grew more disorienting. Not a mist, not a fog, not a darkness. Rather, the light which awakened me was so thick that I couldn’t concentrate and as I tried to steer myself and focus on my surroundings, I noticed what had produced such a light:

In the distance, in the middle of the room which wasn’t mine, were two humanoid figures. One with wings and a tail, with what looked to be crystals all over their body, and the other figure, a naked man, crouched down and teeth gnashed. I watched, in a trance, as he tore off bits and bits of the other creature’s flesh, and soon grew hungrier; limbs and organs spilled forth and those two were made a feast out of.

Go on, boy. Run, the words entered once more. Though by now, they seemed to have come from the winged humanoid, who bore no face, yet turned in my direction all the same. As I watched the head fall from the neck, that’s when I managed to move, and I did just as the soothing words told me: I ran.

Each step was uneven, with a squish, and a threat to trip and fall at any moment. It seemed as if the floor was made up of intestines. And, as I took a glance behind me and hoped to see the doorway back to my bedroom, the hunched man looked my way, a face of seething hatred.

Soon I came to a building and I opened the door and ran in. I sought to run up the staircase, but a tall, imposing figure blocked my path. Clad in what looked like the charred remains of an armor plating, the figure approached me and I couldn’t make out a single facial feature, but I still felt the threat the figure brought with them. As they approached, they reached across their shoulder and tore off one of his arms. In its place, a new limb grew. One much thinner, but with sharp talons.

I turned around and there was a flight of stairs, which I took and ran all the way up to the rooftop. By the time I got to the roof and back outside, it was daylight.

Over the balcony, I noticed the usual crowds of people on the street. In a way, the normalcy itself was disorienting. Even if I could chalk up my experience, whatever experience that was, to a dream, there was no denying the fact that I was far from my apartment and indeed, on the roof of some building.

“That feeling of wind against your hair. Ah...what a breeze,” a soft nearby voice startled me. I looked over and next to me sat a young man with short, unkempt white hair and wore a yellow, unzipped jacket, and a plain white T-shirt underneath. He looked so carefree, so serene. I couldn’t deny it, either, that the wind which blew his hair forward, it all had me in a trance. He was beautiful.

“Who might you be?” He asked me.

“Blake,” I blurted. “Blake Slait.”

My words came out in a hurried panic, something unintended. Soon I spilled out last night’s experience, “I was in my bedroom and it was all red and I saw grotesque sights, and then I found myself here and I don’t know why I’m here but I’m relieved that it was all a dream.”

“It wasn’t a dream,” I heard him speak and his response baffled me.

“What?” I stood, incredulous and asked. Something wasn’t adding up. Nothing seemed to connect.

“I love you,” he told me. Then he turned around and I saw his face, such smooth skin, and his eyes, a brownish-yellow that reminded me of autumn leaves.

My head grew dizzy. Everything around me spiraled out of control until at last, I fainted.

When I came to, I found myself in a hospital bed. I thought to myself, OK. I’m finally awake.

But I still wondered how I got there. Worse, I had a faint feeling that the hospital I was in was abandoned. Then, the door to my room opened up and that same white haired man entered.

“I told the doctor I was your brother,” he explained.

That struck a nerve, one I had kept buried. Instead, I told him:

“You’re beautiful.”

He laughed and paced about the room.

“What is it about you?” He asked, as if I held all the secrets of the universe. “We just met.”

“You’re the one who said ‘I love you’!” I fired back at him. That seemed to perplex the beautiful boy.

“Was that me?”

If it wasn’t, who else could it be? I thought, without considering the fact that I could have imagined it.

“Who are you, anyway?” I asked him, almost as if it were an accusation.

“For now you may call me Turtle Dove.”

There were several more questions I wished to ask, but I held off for now.

“If you wish to survive the night, you may follow me.” He lifted one leg up, as if to take a big step forward. “But watch your step.”

As I got up out of the hospital bed, I felt a burning sensation in my lower abdomen. Like something had eaten away at my flesh, and my stomach was covered in scabs. Part of me didn’t want to make sense of it. Part of me didn’t want to notice the descent.

[sounddrive]

Of Flowers and Kisses

A/N: @vesuvianfool​​, hello! I am your gifter in the @fieldsofvesuvia​ exchange! Thank you so much for your patience.

It was a joy to work on, and I hope you enjoy reading it too!

Summary: Two friends and a little snake make the most out of discarded wares from the flower festival in Vesuvia.

Time frame: set roughly a year or so after the tale "Travel At Night".

Pre-Relationship, with Faust being her mischievous self

O*O*O

It was so hot that the humidity clung to one’s body like an uncomfortable second skin.

Maybe this is how Faust feels when she’s shedding, Muriel thought to himself. Still, he wrapped his heavy blanket around himself, the scent of myrrh keeping him grounded.

Workers and barkers for several booths were shouting all at once. It was annoying. Those people were reminding shoppers that they had another ten minutes before the flower festival was officially shut down.

Muriel stuck closer to one of the columns on the perimeter, his tired eyes scanning the crowds for any sign of Asra and Faust. The teenager tried to ignore the fact that as many Vesuvians passed him by, they flinched at the sight of him. In turn, Muriel scrunched down against the rounded side of the column, squinting in the bright sunlight.

Where are you? Muriel wondered, his green eyes roving over the dissipating crowds beyond him. His dedicated squinting is soon rewarded by a familiar sight: a flash of white, and a red scarf wrapped around a child in ill-fitting clothes...

...Who also had goodness knew how many bunches of flowers in his little arms.

Flowers! Faust declared in a squeaky voice.

Muriel glanced over Asra, not seeing her entangled in her magician’s puffy white hair from when he last saw her. She had to be hidden in Asra’s scarf.

She sounded immensely proud.

“C’mon!” Asra said cheerfully. He passed Muriel, stopping when the latter didn’t move. Asra hopped in place for his best friend to start walking after him. Once the other did, they made a beeline to the docks.

Muriel, as always, was at his cloud-headed companion’s heels. When a bundle of flowers, or even a singleton, dropped out from Asra’s arms, Muriel was there to pick up after him.

“...how did you get so many?” Muriel inquired, counting almost a dozen flower types in his own arms alone.

“People threw out perfectly good ones!” Asra replied simply. He turned back to say another thing, only to stop. He stopped so suddenly Muriel almost knocked Asra over by bumping into him.

Oops! Faust was jostled around, but wasn’t in danger of falling to the ground, luckily.

“Why’d you stop?” Muriel asked.

“Sorry I keep dropping ‘em Muri." Asra looked on at the bunch of flowers in his best friend's arms.

“It’s ok...” Muriel reassured his much smaller friend.

*****

By the time the three of them reached the hideaway under the docks, many of the flowers had lost their petals. Muriel shrugged off his blanket so that they could lay out the flowers on top of it.

He sorted them out by size; Asra sorted them out by color.

In the end, much to both of their dismays, many of the flowers were either too short of stem or they had lost too many of their petals. The ones without their petals looked barren, and...

Sad.

Muriel frowned, wondering how they could salvage this... if they even could.

It was a stroke of luck that Asra was able to get any of these flowers in the first place.

As Muriel pondered, he didn’t realize Asra had started to poke around his bed. Some items were shuffled about, turned upside down only to be set upright and refilled with their proper contents—sometimes repeatedly—until finally-

“I got an idea!” Asra declared, rushing back to his seated friend.

Over by Muriel’s side was where Asra settled, sitting with his legs tucked under him. In one hand, Asra held a spool of thread. In his other hand was one of the bigger sewing needles he had in his collection. It was made of bone or porcelain, Muriel observed.

Sew? Faust asks, finally poking her head out of Asra’s scarf.

“Maybe it’ll work,” Asra said, threading a medium width amount of thread into the eye of the needle.

“...Asra, it might not work,” Muriel murmured, looking skeptically at the majority of the flowers they had on hand.

“Still, I wanna try it!” Asra says with a grin.

Muriel just followed his lead. Together the two of them, watched by Faust, set about to arrange the flowers together.

*****

Most of the surviving flowers are goldenrods, Asra explained. Muriel isn’t so sure what they were or what they meant, but the color seemed to match the sunshine. Within the confines of Asra’s hidden little gateway, beneath the docks, the flowers are bright. Almost too bright, in Muriel’s opinion.

Asra was happy though. In turn, Muriel kept his mouth shut on that matter.

Taking stem by stem, end by end, and some careful sewing together of the flowers later...

The two of them had two pairs of semi circular flower necklaces. They were ridiculously long on Asra. They were so long, the bottom-most flower reached down to his elbows, if he placed his knuckles under his chin. Despite that, Asra laughed in delight. He lifted a string of flowers to Faust. The little morph stuck her little tongue out, tasting the air in curiosity.

Flowers!

“Pft haha! You got it Faust,” Asra cooed, nuzzling his tiny friend.

Muriel blinked a few times, seeing Asra pepper about half a dozen kisses on Faust’s little head. Faust was giggling at Asra’s affections.

Muriel didn’t realize he was staring until Faust looked right at him.

Kisses for Muri?

“What?!” Muriel sputtered. The flowers in his hands were blown from their stems with the force of his exclamation.

“Faust, nooo,” Asra shushed. He was however, unable to hide his laughter.

Muriel’s mind screeched to a raging halt. No, no that would be bad. That would be terrible. Kisses meant things that Muriel wasn’t prepared for. No no no no no no no-

Muriel gently set down the flowers on a separate rug before he brusquely wrapped his blanket around himself.

“I’m sleeping outside!” Muriel squeaked, cursing the changing of pitch in his voice. He stomped outside, past the overhang of the dock, and found a place to plop down for the night.

If the sun were out, it would have betrayed the exact shade of red Muriel’s face had become.

He cocooned himself into his blanket on the sandy beach, the scent of myrrh overpowering his ridiculous thoughts.

Calm down, calm down, calm down...

After a while, Muriel hears the familiar pace of Asra’s footsteps coming toward him. Muriel wills himself to be still. He wished the sand would swallow him up, to hide him...

“Muri?”

“Go away...” Muriel groans.

There was a soft thud beside him. Muriel shut his eyes as he cursed himself. The green-eyed teenager remained stock-still for a while, until his tensed up body started to ache.

Muriel reluctantly sat upright, lowering the blanket from around his head to where it pooled around his elbows. He didn’t need to look to know that Asra had settled down in the sand, just off to his right.

Even as the waves rolled unto the beach they sat upon, Muriel could hear Asra say, “‘m sorry for laughing.”

Muriel closed his eyes once more, inhaling deeply. Myrrh, the salty sea air, and the smell of the flowers they worked with were what he could detect.

“...apology accepted,” Muriel rumbled. He finally looked over to see Asra beaming up at him.

That damn smile, with those dimples...

Muriel swallowed. He hoisted his blanket up to his shoulders again, like a turtle going into its shell... at least partially. He didn’t miss the ring of flowers in Asra’s hands, however.

“...that’s different,” Muriel noted.

In Asra’s hands, there was another circlet made of flowers. Instead of being sewn together however, it was clumsily braided.

“The thread didn’t hold together,” Asra explained. He paused a moment, reworking an errant stem into place. “Hopefully, this’ll stay together.”

He held it out toward Muriel.

“Can I put it on your head?”

In answer, Muriel scooted closer to him, facing Asra now. “You’re so weird,” he muttered, wrapping his blanket just a little closer around himself.

Muriel dipped his head a little, his greasy, black hair becoming a curtain over his face.

Whether or not Asra knew he witnessed him, his best friend, kissing the flower crown before placing it over his head, Muriel hoped the cloud-headed companion of his would never ask.

Wordlessly, Muriel shifted, facing the ocean once more. He extended a corner of his blanket to Asra. The latter happily nabbed the corner, twirling himself into it, mindful of Muriel’s arm.

Once Asra was settled against Muriel’s side, it didn’t take long for him to fall asleep.

Night night? Faust’s sleepy voice peeped from within Asra’s scarf.

“Go to sleep,” Muriel replied.

Okay... night night.

“... Good night.”

[captainburgeeer]

EYES ON THE PRIZE (032120)

So I was finished reading the mamba mentality by kobe bryant. Thanks to scribd for letting their audiobooks and ebooks for free. As a way of spending this home qurantine worth a while despite of the bad news and the virus spreading around the world, I saw the opportunity to learn and read more.

I compiled the different remarkable lines or quotes that Kobe mentioned in his book. Although it is more of about how to be great in basketball, it also applies in every circumstances in our life. So here it goes:

1. Attention to details

I strongly believe that this is an important trait especially when you are in a corporate world. In a regular setting in my workplace, a day won't pass without my boss saying how I missed small details in my task. For her, you should observe every little details to be able to see the greater picture of it. I know sometimes its kinda tricky and annoying to spend time and attention in every little things but it is necessary until it becomes routine. Besides, it is important to appreciate every little things in our life to be able to appreciate more the big ones.

2. I always keep the end result. If the price was a lot of work and a few missed shots, I was OK with that.

“It always pays the price”. There are no shortcuts in life. In the book, Kobe emphasized his dedication to win, because in the first place that’s his goal. He started so small, but the fact that he knew in his mind that he has a specific target (championship) bullseye. Baam it doesn’t matter how hard to get there or how long it is. He often starts at 3am training and even midnight. It is important to have clean mind and body to be alligned on what exactly your goal is. It must be a clear judgement that whatever it takes, you will go that far. You had to have sense of purpose in everything you do. Eyes on the prize.

3. And to do that, to figure those puzzles out, I was willing to do way more than anyone else. Stick with what works, even if it’s unpopular.

You have to own yourself. I think that’s the core message for Kobe’s phrase. In this fast paced world, everyone wants to be popular or distinguish. The real question is, what does it take to be that one? During my childhood days, I am a very very shy turtle that barely go out of my shell. I wasn’t that popular because my mom is not a teacher I guess (lol) but I pursue to become achiever and to be on top but still I am shy as a turtle. Until high school, I am that kind of student in fact I want to include myself in the patay na bata sa classrom squad (lol again). Nope, I am still on my metamorphosis stage. To be fair with myself tho, I am belong to the achiever on high school, huwarang mag aaral sy 2013-2014, best in filipino, best in ap, journalism awardee. I think I’m a lava during high school days hahahaha. And then college came. Different world, huh and I can’t even think that this was the greatest show of my life. I’m still uncomfortable of what I am capable of but then a special person help me to become who I am today. Hey shout out to you ju! You did bring out the best in me. This include the numerous times you leave and hurt me that makes me the best that I can be today. Cheers! And all these struggle that happens, i only believe in one fact that I have to own who I am for strengths, weaknesses, opportunities and threats hehe. Even now I am in the corporate world where world is much bigger than before, I did not forget how I start become so small and now evolve as a human being equipped with faith and wisdom that I’ve learned through the years. I am okay people telling me that I am not good enough, because for me all that matters is I believed in myself and to all those who believed in me. And so for that, I am not afraid to fail and fail again.

[moved99999999999]

U guys wanna know what I think about that hell hotel show

I feel like twitter’s very tired of seeing ppl talk about Hazbin Hotel, so I putting my opinions on tumblr where they belong. I’m not a “professional critic” by any means, but I’ll try my best given what I know. And don’t worry, I’ll be incredibly nit-picky to suit the internet’s needs.

I’m gonna mainly focus on HH itself instead of Vivzie’s accusations because that's a WHOLE other can of worms to open.

During the time of me writing this, I haven’t watched any YT reviews, but I’ve read a few threads criticising the show, so take that as my social influence bias.

My ted talk is allllll below the cut. Enjoy~

Context: 

My first exposure of Vivzie’s work was her “Die Young” animation that I came across around 2016. Instantly I fell in love with how “smooth” and lively her animation was, and especially the fact that it was hand drawn. Animation like that was extremely rare to come by (and still is) and seeing her execute it so well with such complexed characters was amazing to my fetus self. 

A few years later and I see the first trailer for HH. I instantly went OH I RECOGNISE THAT STYLE AND THOSE CHARACTER TYPE DESIGNS and was looking forward to what it had to offer. 

On “opening day” I watched the pilot ASAP to avoid my opinions from getting warped by all of the key-mash memes and post call-out bitching (literally the extremes of the HH opinion spectrum), and overall.....

I thought it was good. 

Not ground breakingly amazing, not horrifically terrible, but charmingly good.

(Ok now it’s actual review time)

Animation Quality:

As a hand drawn animation that has the freedom to get creative with its shots, a lot of effort was clearly put into how everything moves (it definitely didn’t take any lazy flash puppet shortcuts for the main sections of the show) and I can appreciate that. However it tends to be... rather inconsistent, most likely due to the varying skill level of the animators on the project. It’ll be nice and smooth one minute, and then awkward and choppy the next which can make the viewing pretty confusing at times. I’ll be honest I found myself overlooking these inconsistencies due to the characters and backgrounds themselves being very visually engaging, especially considering how over designed some of them can be (which I applaud the team for handling cuz wow that must have been painful). However, the needle thin and exaggerated art style makes some things incredibly hard to look at. While it helps with adding fancy details, it hurts in catching peoples eyes in the right place.

It’s also chalk full of little details, visual gags, and references that are hilarious to look at if you have the luxury of pausing every two seconds (the news segment and Sir Pentious turf war w/ Angel and Cherri are good places to look). But I feel like these lil details were put in at the cost of some some continuity errors (Charlie not wearing her coat in one shot, and having it back on in the next, papers being blank, etc.) and lip-syncing issues which really shouldn’t be happening considering all of the detail they were able to put in. There are also some shots that have just SO MUCH detail put into them, only to be shown for less than a second. I get that’s the cost of animation sometimes, but save the detail for the shots that need it, because at that point you’re just causing the animators to waste their efforts.

However, I was surprised at how professional the soundtrack and editing was. Not one but THREE songs in this single episode was really surprising, and the variation and quality of each was great (as cringy as Charlie’s song is)

But overall, the production quality is surprisingly good for a project like this, the editing, sound effects, and sound track act like a cherry on top. Of course there are some noticeable drops in quality, but given time and a budget, it has enough chops to look like an actual show.

Writing: 

As far as overarching plot goes, it seems like it’s going to be one of those procedural shows that tries to be serialised, but it’s a creative twist on hell and has an interesting premise to begin with. You can get really creative with seeing how you’d dive into getting redemption out of all of these seemingly lost causes, and I’m sure there are many people willing to know the backstories our main cast. As a pilot, it did it’s job of launching the plot very well, setting up the premise of the hotel and introducing characters in a very engaging way. I was legit really interested in each segment with who in introduced, and it didn’t feel like I was being overloaded with names to remember (which can be a problem for many medias and introductions). The cohesion between each scene is VERY smooth, and I genuinely enjoyed some of the cliché cuts/gags. 

Unfortunately I can’t extend this interest to our main character. Charlie is one of the most generic tropes we’ve ever seen. She’s a boring Disney princess who has a “cute happy positive goal to change her world” and the only thing that would make her more generic is if she wore a dress and cried “I’m tired of being so privileged”. 

(Although it’s impossible to tell, I honestly think Viv is just projecting through her, especially considering how horrifically accurate the hotel’s opening mirrors the internet’s reaction to the pilot itself)

I would be more forgiving if she was a supporting character or someone less important, but she’s the freaking protagonist, arguably the character that has to be the most interesting. Angel’s personality seems to be “flirty porn star”, and while that’s just as bad as being a boring Disney princess, at least he gets a few jokes and has a profession more interesting than Charlie’s. Around the end of the pilot he just seems like he’s getting involved because Viv likes giving him attention. If he’s supposed to be leeching off of the hotel, wouldn’t not care if it survives or not?

(There’s that whole stereotype issue that everyone keeps bringing up, but I genuinely think that’s BS because people are blatantly ignoring the fact that Angel is a porn star, Vaggie is portrayed as helpful, and that the show takes place in H E double hokey sticks.)

The transitions may be smooth, but the dialogue pacing can get really awkward at times. This paired with the animation sometimes having awkward quality drops makes some movements incredibly jagged, and has some detailed shots show for incredibly unbalanced screen time as mentioned before. 

I don’t have enough to give voice acting it’s own section so I’m just popping it down here:

The voice acting is legitimately better than several big name projects I know. It’s consistent, great at expressing the character’s mood properly, and each voice fits each character perfectly. My only gripes are that Alastor and Sir Pentious tend to grain on you after awhile due to them keeping a single tone for too long. 

Character Design: AKA the only thing I have legitimate experience with.

First thing’s first. The characters are WAY too over designed. There are so many markings and accessories that are incredibly unnecessary. I think the mindset for these characters was “the more complicated and attractive the better”, which makes them look like they’re designed by an edgy tumblr artist (heck I fall for this too some times).

Especially if a character is going to be animated, you have to keep in mind the value of simplicity. You absolutely don’t have to fill in your character with markings and trinkets to make them look unique, I mean just look at the gen 1 pokemon starters. Thanks to the limitations of the game, the sprites were forced to be simple, and it was that simplicity that made them such unique and varied creatures. You can tell Blastoise is a bulky water blasting turtle just with a quick glance. 

Many of the characters suffer from over complication, but I’ll look at Husk for example. He has these stripes all over him that do not contribute to who he’s supposed to be at all, and only look like they’re added to make him more unique. The markings that DO help are the little card suite marks on his wings, because those at least infer he’s linked to a casino/gambling type of theme. I would say his outfit helps as well, but formal wear and bowties are worn way to often by the main characters, which brings me to another problem.

They may look different, but they feel way too similar. From the same skinny body type, to generic head shapes, to outfits, the focus characters just don’t stand out amongst each other. Even the ones with interesting features still suffer from feeling generic. I’d say Sir Pentious is a good example of this. He has a serpentine/naga body and clever hair style that make his concept really creative, but his skinny body type, complicated eyes all over his tail, and generic “young but supposed to be at least middle aged” face just push him back into obscurity. He’s even wearing the SAME outfit as Alastor (who's an even worse offender of that generic face problem), and unless Viv has some plan to link the two, I’d say the characters need to stop using a dress code.

A successful character design can to tell you who the character is just by looking at them. You should be able to tell if a character’s personality, function, age, the universe they belong in, and if they’re important or not, and that’s a big problem when it comes to the background characters. If you pause on one of the extras for a minute you can see all of the effort put into designing them, and that takes away so much attention from the main cast. Not only that, but they have actual variations in their body types and outfits, which makes them more intriguing than who we’re supposed to be interested in.

Regardless, this pilot has potential, and if they can get someone to comb out the flaws, you can end up with something good. No one can deny a legitimate animation was made here, and the team successfully executed the start of a story, and that’s something anyone can look up to.

TLDR: The pilot is good. It has some major flaws, but it has potential to be a good show.

If you actually read this far epstein didn’t kill himself.

[perhapsitmaybedragons]

The Turtle Truth, and Nothing But the Truth

I’ve been wanting to write this for a few days. What if Nino found out first, instead of anyone else?

Can someone suggest a title that doesn’t suck? Anyway, here’s part one:

It was stupid of her, in retrospect, to duck back into the school before her transformation had worn off. Marinette had thought for sure that all of the other students were still outside after the last Akuma, as school was over for the day. Sure, it was early enough that some clubs should be hanging around but she had thought it would be fine.

 What she hadn’t counted on was a new album release. One of Nino’s favorite bands had dropped a new CD and he was still hanging in the hallway listening to the music, lost in his own world. Ordinarily, Alya stepped in on these occasions to help him back to reality and on track to get home, but she had run off in favor of getting a new scoop.

 He was on his third play through, on the second song when he had happened to look up. Ladybug was down the hallway. He lifted a hand and waved to her, calling out a friendly hello…just as her transformation wore off.

 Had he known what was about to happen, he would have looked away. But with no warning, he had ended up seeing her. Nino coughed awkwardly, trying to shift his attention into another direction, but it was impossible.

 There was a noise coming from Ladybug’s civilian form that sounded like a balloon deflating. It grew louder until it turned into a shriek. For a moment, Nino thought his own internal screaming had finally found its voice. But no. It was Marinette. She recovered her composure and glanced around nervously.

 “Hi, Nino…you didn’t see …that is, there was nothing to see, right?” Her eyes were enormous, pleading.

 Nino wanted so badly to lie to her. “Nothing at all, dude! Didn’t see you transform back!” he replied cheerfully. But then groaned a moment later as he realized his mistake. Alya was always telling him he sucked at lying. She was right.

 “Please don’t tell Alya,” Marinette squeaked out, “or anyone. But, please, please, especially not Alya. She would kill me for keeping this from her!” She had closed the distance between them and was right in front of him, her hands clenched tightly into fists.

 Nino gave her a thumbs up. “It’s cool, Marinette. I’m not going to tell anyone.” He placed a hand on her shoulder. “We owe you and Chat Noir a lot. Really. This is awesome. And I’m not going to tell anyone.” He removed his hand and used it to make a zipping motion across his mouth.

 Marinette breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you. I appreciate it. …You won’t tell Adrien, either, right?”

 “Of course not, dude,” He agreed. “I’m not telling anybody. This is just between us. Promise.”

 ________________________________________________________________________________

 “I can’t believe I messed up so badly,” Marinette grabbed her pillow and slammed her face into it multiple times as though the pillow could beat the memory out of her. She was in her bedroom and should have been asleep, but her mess up from today was making it impossible to clear her head enough to get any rest. “Nino knows now and …what do I do, Tikki?”

 The kwami gave a shrug. “There’s nothing we can do now, Marinette. Just trust your friend.”

 Marinette moved the pillow to her lap and curled up around it. She had sometimes thought what it might be like to have someone know. But in those thoughts or daydreams, it had never been Nino to find out. Her typical daydream was about revealing herself to Chat - only after Hawk Moth was defeated, of course. Occasionally it would be Alya, as she still felt guilty sometimes for not sharing her secret with her best friend. And of course there were the thoughts of revealing herself to Adrien… but Nino? The thought had never crossed her mind.

 She and Nino had known each other for years, and she liked the guy. But she had never entrusted him with a secret, so who was to say how capable of guarding her biggest one? After all, Alya often bragged that the pair had no secrets in their relationship - or at least she had started making that claim shortly after Nino had found out about Alya being Rena Rouge.

 Marinette began to rock back and forth, her brain full to the brim of nightmare scenarios. What if he accidentally outed her to the entire class? What if he told Alya and Alya put it on her blog? Or what if he told Alya and Alya got mad that Marinette hadn’t told her first? The What Ifs dragged her through scenario after scenario, each one worse than the last. She shuddered and collapsed into the bed .

 Tikki curled up beside Marinette, snuggling the girl’s cheek. “It’s all right. You can trust him. Nino’s your friend.”

 “You always told me I needed to keep my identity secret.”

 “For your own safety. Things can happen that others don’t intend…like Hawk Moth creates an akuma that forces the truth out of people …or-”

 Marinette let out a loud “Ugh!” that cut Tikki off. “I shouldn’t have let him find out and now he knows and …and …”

 “Marinette, there is nothing we can do. So you have to trust him.”

 Marinette nodded and curled up on her bed. “I guess all I can do is try to get some sleep.”

 Tikki nodded her agreement, not pointing out that Marinette had been fretting for so long that she only had half an hour before her alarm would go off.”

  Nino was facing his own kind of trouble that night. Most nights he and Alya would talk on the phone or at least text each other. He had been hoping to only use text. But his girlfriend called, and he was too nice to make an excuse.

 “How’s the new CD?” Alya asked cheerfully.

 “Great,” he choked out. “It was great.” The phone call should have been easy. She wasn’t even talking about super heroes right now. But Nino was surprised by the sudden urge he had to tell her everything. After all, Alya had been trying to figure out Ladybug and Chat Noir’s identities since they had first shown up on the scene.

 “Are you ok?”

 “Why wouldn’t I be?” He could hear his voice going up an octave. He tried to force it down, so the next sentence came out far deeper than his real voice. “I’m just fine…”

 Alya chuckled. “You sound like a pack-a-day smoker right now. What are you hiding?”

“Hiding?!” Nino sat up as straight as possible in his chair, the same way he did when Mademoiselle Bustier got onto him. “I’m not hiding anything. Just talking to you, dude. …Did you get your scoop?”

 “The akuma was the old librarian at the library near the school. Madame …I don’t remember her name. She was upset about someone losing some of her books. Flew around on a giant book, but I didn’t see any of the rest of the fight so I don’t know what her abilities were. Most of my shots were blurry today.”

 “I’m sorry.”

 “It’s not a big deal, it’s not like we don’t get an akuma or two a week,” he could practically hear her shaking her head, “Poor Chat and Ladybug are probably exhausted.”

 “Yeah…” he trailed off, thinking for a moment about Marinette. She probably was exhausted. What with school, and being a superhero, being the student representative, helping her parents in the bakery, plus she still found time to design and sew. Nino suddenly felt very sorry for the girl.

 “You sound far away tonight,” Alya interrupted his thoughts.

 “Oh, sorry, I’ll move closer to the phone.”

 “Not what I meant. I mean, you’re miles away mentally. Did something happen today?”

 “Uhh…”

 “Spill.”

 “The new CD was very …uh…it just had a lot of deepness to it,” Nino finished lamely, casting about his mind for part of the lyrics he could pass off as being profound. But he couldn’t even recall the name of any of the songs at the moment. It was like seeing Marinette detransform had forced everything else out of his brain.

 “I’ll have to look into it, then.” Alya yawned, “But for now I need to head to bed. I’ll see you in the morning?”

 “Of course, dude.”

 Nino hung up the phone and found he was physically and emotionally exhausted. Unfortunately, he was completely mentally awake. He had forgotten for a moment that tomorrow was still a school day. He would have to see Marinette, and he knew he was going to act funny around her. Which would mean that Alya would start asking questions. And possibly Adrien as well. He started pacing around his room, wondering what he was supposed to do.

 Obviously, he needed to keep Marinette’s secret. She hadn’t wanted him to know, and even though he’d always been curious about Ladybug’s identity he really wished he could just wipe his brain clean of the memory. He was really wishing he was a better liar at this point, and made a mental note to maybe corner one of the drama students and see if one of them could advise him. But first he’d have to get through tomorrow.

 “I can do this. All I have to do is lie to my best friend, and to my girlfriend.” Saying it out loud made it sound worse somehow. “It’s not a lie,” he amended. “I’m just not telling them something that they would both really like to know…but I have to keep it from them, because Ladybug has to stay safe.” That last part was true, of course. It’s not like Marinette was locking them all out of her secret because she didn’t want to share. A more selfish part of him whined that Marinette knew he was Carapace and that Alya was Rena Rouge, so what did it matter if he and Alya knew about her?

 But that was different. Of course that was different. Hawk Moth only wanted Ladybug and Chat Noir’s miraculous. He paced around his room, arguing with himself for hours, stopping every once in a while to note that the next school day was getting dangerously close.

 When his alarm went off, he still hadn’t gotten any sleep. “It’s ok,” Nino assured himself. “I won’t tell anyone. She’s trusting me. I’ve got her back.”

[callboxkat]

(Un)Broken - part 3

Author’s note: I’m back! It’ll be at least a week before you guys get another part, but have this one for now. :)

Warnings: self deprecation, headache mention, doctor mention, injury mention, food mention

Word count: 1579

Masterpost in the notes!

...

Patton walked into his apartment and quietly shut the door behind him. He slid the lock into place, then leaned back against the door with a soft sigh. He didn’t know why he was upset. He should be happy, shouldn’t he? He’d spent the evening bowling with his friends, after all.

He just kept remembering that moment, when he’d cheered about Logan knocking down those two pins—because Logan had been having a really hard time, and it was the first time they’d hung out together having fun like they had before his injury, and Patton had just been so excited to see him finally hit some pins! Logan, though, had clearly not been nearly as excited. Patton had seen how he rolled his eyes. Probably thinking that Patton was making fun of him. But Patton would never do that—Logan was one of his favorite people in the world!

Patton traipsed over to his sofa and threw himself onto it heavily, facedown on the cushions.

He knew that it was dumb. It was just one little thing, one little eye roll. It just hurt him to think that Logan might have thought poorly of him, even for a second.

He was distracted from his wallowing when his phone chimed its text tone at him. Patton reluctantly rolled partway over, just enough to grab his phone from his pocket and bring it up to his face.

Oh! It was Logan! Patton quickly swiped to open the message. It was a group text, sent out to all of them.

Logan: I greatly enjoyed our excursion to the bowling alley this afternoon. I hope that everyone else had as pleasant of a time as I did.

A second message popped up a minute later.

Logan: My apologies if I somehow lessened anyone’s enjoyment of the evening. I understand that especially while I am still in recovery, I am not the most ‘fun’ person to be around. Thank you for inviting me along.

Patton started furiously typing, but a series of other messages were already flooding in from Joan, Virgil, and Roman, all telling Logan that they’d had fun too, and yelling at him for implying that he’d somehow made the evening any less fun. Patton sent off his own message anyway, and as soon as he did, the notification that Talyn was typing their own response came up. Good. Logan didn’t get to talk bad about himself! Not on their watch!

Several long minutes went by, and then Logan responded.

Logan: Perhaps I misread the situation. Thank you for your assurances. It will not be necessary to ‘march over to my house’, ‘physically fite’ me, or hug me so tight that you ‘wring out the nerdiness’

Logan: Additionally, Virgil, I feel the need to remind you that Patton may decide to physically fight you if you continue to insist that gloominess is your area of expertise.

Patton paused, then scrolled up. He must have missed that message in the barrage of notifications. He found it—Virgil didn’t get to be self-deprecating either!—then scrolled back down to reply.

Patton: I will! I’ll fite both of you if I have to!!!

Virgil: Ok Pat chill, no fighting necessary

Patton: Good!

Roman: We should go bowling again. You all only got a glimpse of my skills.

Roman: (Virgils dont interact)

Virgil’s and Logan’s replies came through simultaneously.

Logan: I do think I would enjoy another such outing.

Virgil: You can’t stop me

The chat devolved into banter after that, mostly between Virgil and Roman. Patton just read the messages as they came through, not replying, until the others had to leave.

…

Monday rolled around all too quickly for Patton’s taste. He didn’t particularly want to get up early today, to go to class—one of them was math, after all—but he supposed there were bright sides. He did also have an art class today, and he would get to see his friends at lunch! He just preferred Tuesdays and Thursdays to the other three days of the school week because he had his actual classes with his friends.

Patton struggled through his morning class, which felt like it was moving at a glacial pace. He felt like he’d been there for so long. But finally, the bell rang; and with immense relief, he traipsed down to the cafeteria to meet his friends.

“I don’t blame you,” Roman said when Patton had finished sharing today’s math class woes. They and Virgil were sitting together, eating lunch in the cafeteria. “When are you ever going to need to know how to calculate a third derivative?”

“Exactly,” Patton sighed, putting his head down on the cafeteria table. “But it’s required, for my major….”

“You—you could always ask Logan for help,” Virgil suggested after a moment. “He’s pretty good at math.”

“Uh, yeah, I sure hope he is,” Roman said, his tone of voice mimicking that of a certain well-known six-second-video. “He’s a math major.”

Patton shook his head, but he did so without lifting it off the table, so it was more like he just rolled it morosely from side to side. “I don’t wanna bother him. He’s still got his concussion thingy to deal with.”

“C’mon, Pat, it couldn’t hurt to ask,” Roman said. “Besides, he could do derivatives in his sleep. Concussion or not.”

Patton just let out a soft, extended whine. If he hadn’t still had his head down on the wooden table, he would have seen Virgil and Roman glance at each other.

He felt a gentle poke on the top of his head. “What’s up?” Virgil asked.

“He’s gonna think I’m dumb,” Patton mumbled.

“Why would he think that?” Roman sounded genuinely confused. Patton could hear Virgil’s chair creaking as he shifted.

“Because he already does,” he heard himself whine. He knew he should just stop talking, but… whoops.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Virgil argued.

At the same time, Roman said, “That’s preposterous!” He normally had a habit of pronouncing it like ‘perpostrous’, which annoyed Logan to no end. He was pretty sure Roman did it on purpose at this point, evidenced by the fact that he said it correctly this time, when Logan wasn’t there.

“Logan knows you’re not dumb,” Virgil continued. “And it’s not like he hasn’t helped you before. What’s up?”

Patton sighed, gathered his willpower, and lifted his head from the table, sitting up. “I… I guess you’re right,” he sighed. He forced his features into a meek smile. “Sorry, kiddos. I’m just tired.”

“That’s okay.” Roman said.

“I mean… I get it,” Virgil said quietly. “Logan’s got stuff to worry about already. But he’s getting better, isn’t he? He’s allowed to drive and use phones and everything again. And it’s—it’s like Ro said, the stuff you’re working on is easy for him. I’m not—I’m not saying it is easy,” he amended quickly, even though Patton hadn’t been offended. “Logan’s just….”

“A huge nerd?” Roman suggested.

“A huge nerd. In a good way. Not being like him doesn’t make someone dumb. And you—” he fixed Patton with such an intense stare that the sophomore actually shrank backwards a bit. “You. Are. Not. Dumb. Nobody thinks you are. Not me, not Roman, not Talyn or Joan… and Logan sure as heck doesn’t think you’re dumb either.”

“But….”

Virgil was clearly running out of steam (that still happened sometimes when he talked a lot, though he was getting better) so Roman jumped in.

“If we’re not allowed to talk bad about ourselves, neither are you.”

Patton looked at them both for a second. Virgil was chewing the corner of his bottom lip and Roman had half a piece of Crofter’s-covered toast forgotten in one hand, but both were looking at him intently.

“O-o-okay. You’re right. I just got a bit silly, I suppose. I don’t like not understanding things.”

“We know,” Roman said. “You could always get someone else to tutor you, but I’m sure Logan’ll help if you ask…. Where is he, anyway?” He frowned slightly, leaning away from the table to look around.

Patton searched the room for a moment too, then glanced at the Mickey Mouse watch on his wrist. Logan should definitely have been here by now, if he were coming.

Virgil briefly chewed his lip a bit more intensely than before, then stopped and opened his mouth. “He—could he be sick?”

Roman sighed. “Probably… I hope he’s okay. Logan never misses class.”

That was true. The first time any of them remembered Logan missing class had been when he’d gone to the hospital after his accident. Logan valued class attendance too highly, and he was religious about hygiene, so he rarely so much as caught a mild cold. Recently, though, things were different.

“Could be another doctor’s appointment,” Patton mused noncommittally.

“I thought he had one on Friday, though,” Virgil pointed out with a frown.

Roman shrugged. “He’s probably fine.” He set down the toast that he seemed to finally remember was in his hand. “I for one am just glad he’s taking care of himself.”

Virgil nodded in agreement. Patton took a sip from his drink and didn’t respond.

“Hey…uh, you’ve got an art class today, right?” Virgil asked, changing the subject.

Patton nodded, brightening. “I sure do!”

“What are you working on?”

Patton turned to grab a little sketchbook from his backpack and opened it up, showing Virgil a few sketches as he talked about his current project. He knew Virgil was trying to distract him. He let him do it.

...

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