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damonalbarn · 3 years ago

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Hey I was wondering if you knew the article that Justine spoke about suzi in?!

It was in The Guardian in 2000. Here you go:

Sweet revenge

In the mid 90s, Justine Frischmann and Damon Albarn were the First Couple of Britpop. Then he used a Blur album to rake over their break-up, while she languished in obscurity amid rumours of heroin addiction. Now she's back with a new album, and it's her turn to exorcise her demons.

Caroline Sullivan

Friday March 24, 2000

As Alison Moyet once said, it's hard to write a decent song when you're happy. Rock bands thrive on romantic turmoil in their private lives, without which they would be reduced to padding out lyrics with football scores and the weather.

Thus it was for Blur's Damon Albarn in mid-1998 when he sat down to write what would become the 13 album. His eight-year relationship with Justine Frischmann of the chart-topping Elastica, whom he once described as **"the only person who's ever been completely necessary to me" **had just ended, at her instigation. Pained and humiliated, he decided to exact revenge by exposing their most intimate details to public scrutiny.

The outcome? Embarrassment for Frischmann, a number one album for Blur and a bit of a result for Albarn.

Break-up albums are by definition both embittered and yearning - in the case of Marvin Gaye's vindictive Here, My Dear, they're just plain nasty - but 13 got more up-close and personal than could be considered gentlemanly. Albarn portrayed his former partner as neurotic, even slipping apparent drug references into the single Tender: "Tender is the ghost, the ghost I love the most/Hiding from the sun, waiting for the night to come". Frischmann was the ghost, supposedly, who was on the verge of being consumed by what one music paper euphemistically called "the darkness at the heart of Elastica".

Frischmann's response can be found on a song called The Way I Like It, which appears on Elastica's first album in five years, The Menace (out next month): "Well, I'm living all right and I'm doing okay/Had a lover who was made of sand, and the wind blew him away".

This is unlikely to be her last word on the subject. As she ambivalently begins her first round of interviews since 1996, she's finding that everyone has the same three questions. Why did Elastica nearly sabotage a promising career by taking so long to follow up their million-selling debut? Had Frischmann taken leave of her senses when she walked out on Mr Britpop? And what about the drug rumours?

"One journalist said to me, 'Dahling, I heard you were on heroin - Mahvelous!' " she says with some amusement. "Drugs are around, but I'm not that interested and never have been, although there have been elements of party animal in my band. The rumours are a lot to do with rock'n'roll mythology, where people want to believe you're having a more exciting time than you are."

The only drugs on her person today, as she perches on the edge of an armchair in her publicist's north London living room, are Marlboro Lights. Her other indulgences are two cups of herbal tea and a Cadbury's Flake cupcake, which she nibbles with well-bred pleasure. Her dark eyes are clear, and her long, tanned body is a testament to the virtues of a daily swim in a pool near her Notting Hill home. Only Elastica know whether they really succumbed to heroin and hedonism after their self-titled debut made them more famous than they'd ever expected to be, but if they did, Frischmann, 30, seems little the worse for it.

Given the current predominance of damnable boy bands, the Britpop mid-90s are beginning to seem like a halcyon period for English music. It was a time when the underground went overground, and a self-described "little punk band" like Elastica could sell 80,000 albums in a week.

More than a few loser guitar groups saw Britpop as a licence to print money, but Elastica, led with cool elan by the androgynous Frischmann, were one of its gems. The Blur connection was a marketing godsend (Frischmann and Albarn met on the London indie circuit, she as guitarist in an early line-up of Suede and girlfriend of frontman Brett Anderson, he as a cherubic baggy hopeful), yet the spiky-haired Elastica LP embodied that euphoric time like nothing else.

Frischmann, guitarist Donna Matthews, drummer Justin Welch and bassist Annie Holland were unprepared for the album soaring to number one in its first week. When they signed their record deal, Frischmann, whose great-grandfather was a conductor of the Tsar's orchestra at the Summer Palace in Byelorussia, was five years into an architecture degree at London University. A liberal north London Jewish upbringing - her engineer father built the Oxford Street landmark Centrepoint - had instilled expectations of success, but the reality of being photographed in the supermarket and having her rubbish stolen was a shock. Fiercely independent, she also resented her unsought role as half of Britpop's First Couple.

There was more. Two of Frischmann's musical heroes, The Stranglers and Wire, decided that two Elastica songs were suspiciously similar to two of their own tracks, and won royalties. Meanwhile, there were malicious rumours that Albarn had done much of the work on the record. He hadn't, but he did find Justine's success in America, where she was substantially out-selling Blur, hard to endure.

"It was very hard for him to deal with and he's very confrontational," she says, with the flattering openness of someone who prefers interviews to be more like conversations. She admits she often says too much, but in an era of image control and spin, her honesty makes her a one-off. Not that she's likely to land herself in it too badly - she possesses the intellectual ammunition to look after herself, which must have been instrumental in attracting two of rock's more articulate stars, Albarn and Anderson.

She's been accused of being a professional rock girlfriend, though it was probably they who were lucky to get her. She spent the cab ride over reading the Sylvia Plath letters in Monday's Guardian, and muses on the irony of the poet's subjugating herself to Ted Hughes when she was the more gifted. (Her new boyfriend, by the way, is an unknown photographer, "though that'll probably change, because men seem to get famous when I go out with them".)

"I reacted the way a lot of women do, by being passive," she continues. "He put a lot of pressure on me to give up Elastica. He said, 'You don't want to be in a band, you want to settle down and have kids.' " In so many words? "In so many words. He kept putting on pressure till I started to believe him." She adds bemusedly: "I've met his new girlfriend, and one of the first things she said was that he wanted her to give up travelling with her work to stay home with the baby [Missy, born last autumn]. I'm surprised he's got away with being thought of as a nice person for so long."

After 18 months, during which they did seven American and three Japanese tours, Elastica came off the road to record company demands for an immediate second album. Annie Holland's response was to quit the group, while Donna Matthews became renowned for hard partying on the nocturnal west London scene. They lethargically recorded some demos, but their heart wasn't in it. By 1997, when a second album should have been ready to go, Frischmann and Matthews were barely speaking, and there was nothing useable down on tape.

Holland's replacement, Sheila Chipperfield (of the circus Chipperfields), was deemed not good enough and left by mutual consent. By 1998, their continued lack of productivity was being likened to the Stone Roses' lengthy and ultimately self-destructive holiday between their first and second LPs.

"I didn't think Elastica were going to continue at that point, and we did kinda split up," she says, absently stroking her publicist's cat. Frischmann is a cat person; she's owned a tabby called Benjamin since she was 10. "Unconditional love," she coos. The pet's place in her life is so assured that prospective boyfriends are subjected to his feline scrutiny before she'll go out with them.

On top of everything else, in early 1998 her relationship with Albarn was in trouble. Frischmann retains enough of the indie ethic to detest the phenomenon of celebrity couples, and was dismayed when they became one. "I really hated the tabloid interest, and I went out of my way not to be photographed with him. Only about three pictures of us together exist, I think. In many ways, I think the media interest broke us up, because it made me feel the relationship was quite ugly, and I had to get away from it. There were other factors, too, obviously, because we were together for eight years, and I finally felt it was better the devil you didn't know, really."

Albarn's ego seems to have been severely undermined by having a girlfriend who was nearly as successful as he was, and something of a sex symbol to boot. Despite adopting a resolutely boyish T-shirt-and-jeans uniform, she's thoroughly feminine, a mix that got her voted fifth most fanciable woman in a lesbian magazine.

"I'm completely heterosexual, so I didn't know how to take that. It scares the shit out of me, the idea of being with a girl. I'm glad I've narrowed it down to half the people in the world."

She seems to view Albarn with indulgent exasperation these days, simultaneously praising his intelligence ("The Gallaghers just couldn't compete") and ticking off his flaws. "Damon adores being in the press, and sees all press as good press. He orchestrated that rivalry thing with Oasis. He really wanted kids, and I didn't feel our relationship was stable enough. He was a naughty boy, and he wasn't the right person to have kids with. I had this cathartic moment..."

At which point they split up. Albarn wrote 13 and then met Suzi Winstanley, an artist. "She was pregnant within three months," Justine observes wickedly.

Of the acclaimed 13, she's tactful, describing several songs as "really lovely". She studies her cigarette for a while before adding, "but I'm cynical about selling a record on the back of our relationship". But you're doing the same now. "It's true, but at the time I had no right of reply."

Elastica finally pulled themselves together last year, just as the music industry was about to write them off (their American label had already "very kindly let us go", as she puts it). Holland rejoined, Matthews went to Wales to sort out her life and the band banged out an EP and played the Reading Festival. Things came together quickly after that. They spent the last £10,000 of the recording budget on re-recording a dozen tracks, finishing the album, after years of procrastinating, in six weeks. They've called it The Menace "because that's what it was like to make".

It's dark and resolutely uncommercial - all wrong for 2000's pop-oriented climate. It's unlikely to match the success of the first one, which is fine with them. Call it (though Justine doesn't) their White Album. Its 70s punk aesthetic brings to mind angry girls such as the Slits and the Au Pairs, although the defining mood isn't anger so much as catharsis. None of the songs is specifically about Albarn, she claims. "The dark feeling is due to the sense of isolation, tasting success and getting frightened by it. I was questioning whether I wanted to be in a band any more, and there was no one I could ask for advice. Getting success and everything you ever dreamed about is hard to handle, and makes you question everything."

She's better prepared for success, if it comes again, this time. Already the privacy-preserving barriers are in place. The next interview of the day is with Time Out magazine, which wants a list of her favourite restaurants. "I'm not telling them where I eat," she says reflexively. "I'm gonna lie."

#questions #damon albarn #justine frischmann #blur #elastica

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softkuna · 4 years ago

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Yuuji Itadori | Sukuna || Interest || Fic

Everyone always says that they would absolutely enjoy and accept Sukuna taking over Yuji in heated moments. But what if someone didn't? What if they pushed him away, wanting and waiting for Yuji to come back?

Content ║ Yuuji Itadori x Insert x Sukuna. The curse within startled, chin lifting from clawed fingers. The brat had an interesting question. For someone so idiotic, his emotional competency was a fascination. Had Sukuna been too blatant in his emotions? Had he let thoughts escape into the nether that was their shared mind space? He had protected his own realm with his domain… surely Yuuji couldn’t have snuck his way into it without Sukuna noticing. The inner dwellings of his mind had ceased as her crystalline voice graced ears that weren’t entirely his.

Count ║ 1,660 words.

Consider ║ Pole Dance. Part 2-ish of Dancer. Mention of sex work. Mentions of sexual assault (not explicit but as a topic). Fem insert. Third Person (she/her).

Creator ║ Aight let me express real quick that this inspired me to continue part of that dancer fic so if it’s a little confusing please. I’ve also decided that the dancer series will probably be disjointed stories revolving around the same insert. I won’t put in names and shell retain she/her and third person. Hope you don’t mind! Also, this fic in particular doesn’t wholly answer this ask, but spoiler it will come. I was just naturally going with the flow here. I really hope you don’t mind.

She stood off to the side of the pole, hand pressing to her mouth as Yuuji climbed the beast. It was quite impressive. He used pure arm and grip strength. It didn’t take him long to realize that he couldn’t get any leverage when it came to jeans. His hand gripped at the rafter connecting to the pole, humbly showing off as he did a single pull up before completely dropping to a crouch on the ground, “Did I do it?!” the puppy-like excitement teetering in his words was beautifully accompanied by the toothy grin.

“Ah, sure,” She pressed her lips to the side, swallowing back laughter as he pouted, face scrunching into some sort of a scowl, “What?”

“C’mon! What didn’t I do?”

“You really want to know?”

“Yes!”

With false exasperation, she whined, “Fine,” She approached the pole, both hands gripping the steel, “for one thing, you didn’t climb it pretty enough. Sure, you climbed it, but it’s got a different vibe.” Lean arms pulled her up in a seemingly effortless motion, core tightened to maintain her posture, legs together. Forearms braced the leverage on the pole, “Lifting like-whoo” she dropped back to the ground with an exhale, “that, is different from a climb like this,” Her right arm reached up so that the pole made one leg of an ‘x’ with her forearm, “Your fist should be just above your line of sight.” Her bare shin of the left leg made a similar ‘x’ with the pole, “Your opposite leg should be raised so it makes a 90 degree angle with your hips.”

Yuuji watched, enraptured by the instruction. She spoke so clearly and was so well versed in ~the ways of the pole~ that its general sexual context was nearly gone. Then again, she did say that it was more than just ‘erotic’. He watched as her right leg came so that the ankles compressed the pole between them, “Is this why strippers wear underwear?” It was a revelation! The light bulb went off!

She shot him with an incredulous bullet from her position. It was something like a squat, weight distributed between the leverage of her leg while her grip kept her from leaning back, “It’s not underwear, you neandrathal! It’s costume. Although some girls wear lingerie for their shows…” Her expression fell flat, “You know what, that’s not important right now.” Her hand lifted from the pole, waving off the debate topic for another time, “you wanna learn how to climb this or what?”

The pinkette nodded, taking a seat and criss-cross apple-saucing his legs. She continued, telling him the importance of a pointed toe. Much of it was more than he’d ever thought about before. It took a lot of skill and concentration. He even learned that there’s more than one division of pole dance: Exotic (the sexy shit), Flow (the spinny shit), and Strength (self explanatory shit). For competitions, there were levels. So much of it was so far above his head, he’d need to climb to even reach it.

As she continued, there was a languid fluidity to her limbs. Something that he only half took note of amidst the awkward staring during her first performance that he saw. He recalled an odd sense of déjà vu and the bizarre way in which Sukuna had acted. While they didn’t wholly share thoughts, the entanglement of their beings bled through from time to time. The King of Curse’s indifference often led to nothing, but when it came to her, he seemed to be ready for anything. It created an unease in the pit of Yuuji’s stomach.

“Hey…” His voice trailed, a hand coming to clasp the back of his neck, “You know I’m Sukuna’s Vessel, yeah?”

“Uh-huh, what about it?” She pulled her body close to the pole, right arm now by her chest, legs straight. Left arm now crossed the pole. Both legs swapped their previous position, creating an elegant illusion of ribbon unfurling. She continued to climb.

“Have you been around one of his fingers before?”

The curse within startled, chin lifting from clawed fingers. The brat had an interesting question. For someone so idiotic, his emotional competency was a fascination. Had Sukuna been too blatant in his emotions? Had he let thoughts escape into the nether that was their shared mind space? He had protected his own realm with his domain… surely Yuuji couldn’t have snuck his way into it without Sukuna noticing. The inner dwellings of his mind had ceased as her crystalline voice graced ears that weren’t entirely his.

“Don’t think so, why?” Muscles worked as she placed a hand under the coccyx of her tailbone, thumb pointed down. Her legs straightened horizontally to sit along the pole, as though it were nothing but a lounge chair.

Yuuji scratched his cheek, “I dunno. I get a feeling that he knows you. Or maybe I saw you walking down the street? Sometimes I feel that déjà vu feeling when I’m with you.” He didn’t bring up the awkward bodily response he got that surely wasn’t his own like the melancholic heart ache.

Sukuna was silent, awaiting a response. He knew he could speak for himself, but he felt no need to. This situation was new and he needed to acclimate to it. This vessel was experiencing him second hand. The swirl of memories and emotions this woman brought to the forefront of the now-curse’s contemplations leaked out to the vessel. A pot to hold ashes. Would she be able to feel the connection behind the ceramic?

The woman tipped so that she rest along the pole upside down, hair flowing with the weight of gravity pulling it down. A pink flush came to her cheeks as blood followed the same course, “Honestly, you reminded me of an ex.”

Sukuna’s eyes flickered open. Ex? Was that like the English letter Yuuji had to study? There were so many modern words he was unfamiliar with. He closed his eyes, focusing purely on her words, “The thing is, I didn’t date anyone,” there was a somber lick to the tone, “I saw you and felt… *something*. You know when you watch a movie and you know something bad is going to happen? Like that.”

Yuuji’s head tilted one direction before flipping to another. His expression was contemplative. For someone who seemed so filled with unbridled energy, it caught her off guard whenever he showed this side. It hadn’t been all that long since she joined Jujutsu Technical College, but her blossoming relationship with Yuuji came about as naturally as bees made honey. The kid was about as sweet as it, too.

Her attitude had been bitchy after the first full day. During work, she chat him up – was saccharine sweet. It was her go-to. Maybe I can get a buck out of him, she had thought. When she couldn’t and when they left, she caked herself in the mud that was her bitchy personality. She didn’t particularly enjoy being the way she was, but it was necessary protection. Despite this, Yuuji still dug through the dirt to get at her core.

“Hey, can you do that flagpole thing?”

“Yeah. It’s called a western flag.”

“Show me! Please. You know… if you have time.”

Men always made her cautious. She like the attention of it all, the lustful looks she’d get during a performance, the way men would try and literally buy her time when she play-flirted. She was a top performer both in talent and in business. People requested her, savored slots of solo shows. In her line of work, while she didn’t partake in the more lewd activities herself, it was still assumed that was her position, especially when they paid well.

“Sorry bucko. No private showings.”

“No no! Not like that. I really want to learn how to do that! I wanna see Megumi’s face when I show him that I did it first!”

Her brows scrunched up, lips pressing into a suspicious perch. If the guy were a dog, it didn’t entirely seem like he was barking up her tree that same disgusting way. His genuine interest was so whole heartedly pure.

“Fine.”

“Haha! Yes!”

After a moment of silence, Yuuji rose, placing his calloused hands along either side of her cheeks. His dashing smile riled up squeeze in her chest, gaze averting his. He pressed his forehead to hers, “I don’t want anything bad to happen to you,” His voice was soft, whispered almost, “His interest… I just want to be careful.” While she couldn’t see, she knew that his lips would be pressed into a line, eyes probably trained on a shoe scuff on the hardwood.

“Don’t worry. I have no interest in a murderer.”

Sukuna saw through Yuuji’s cheerfully slit gaze, the gorgeous expression of the woman he once knew. Proud. Independent. She always did throw caution to the wind, even when he would say her life was on the line. Even so, his chest ached. Not with sorrow or desire, but knowing those were the words she had said to him when she was brought to his shrine. Said in the same way, with the same disinterested glint in her eyes.

Bonus:

Yuuji’s lips connected with hers, gently pecking and barely touching. As he pulled back, the remnants of his prior expression melted into a smile, “Need to get down, Mary-Jane. I’m getting dizzy hanging like this.”

He barked a laugh, hand grasping the pole as he bent at a 90 degree so that his back exposed to her. She used her core strength to pull her legs away from the pole, minding her shoulder’s ability to rotate. As hand released their grasp, she landed on his back, legs wrapping around him. Yuuji came to a stand, his new-found partner wrapped at his shoulders and waist, “Does that mean you’re spiderman?”

“I shoot white stuff and get a spicy kiss? Hell yeah it does!”

Taglist:

@auroria @wasabito @juliansbby @missalexbaskerville @3rdgymbros

#⛩.fic #⛩#🍺.fic #🍺#sukuna #ryoumen sukuna #sukuna x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #itadori yuuji #yuuji #yuuji itadori #☄️.fic #☄️#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #yuuji x reader

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dwellordream · 3 years ago

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“If any character in English popular culture stands for the sheep, it is Griselda. Her chief detractor is, not surprisingly, the shrew. In Robert Snawsel's A Looking Glass for Married Folks, Eulalie preaches the Griselda gospel to Xanthippe and Margery, urging them to bear their husbands' blows and drunkenness with meek loving kindness. This is too much for Margery: "Are you a woman, and make them such dish-clouts and slaves to their husbands? Came you of a woman, that you should give them no prerogative, but make them altogether underlings?" Margery's scornful reference to slavery goes to the dark heart of the Griselda myth. Folklorists have argued about the ancestry of the famous tale for more than a century.

William Edwin Bettridge and Francis Lee Utley have made a strong case that Griselda owes her features to a folktale from medieval Smyrna called "the Patience of the Princess." A prince buys a poor girl from her father and lays a wager with her that she will not be able to submit to all his demands with utter composure. The prince shuts her in a tower alone and tests her for twenty years, repeatedly impregnating her and then taking away her newborn infants, telling her that he is going to kill them. She builds a mother doll out of clay to talk to and cry to but never loses her patience, and in this way she wins the bet.

The tale, which matches the European narrative more closely than any other yet found, throws into stark relief the specter of female sexual slavery that haunts Griselda's story. The most striking variance between them is that the girl from Smyrna is sold into involuntary servitude by her father, whereas Griselda has a choice and agrees to voluntary and total obedience. Passing into European culture, the story came to Boccaccio. In reworking it for the Decameron he reclothed it in local garb, fashioning his novella partly in terms of Italian wedding and dowry customs that were sharply weighted against brides and wives. Boccaccio thought Griselda's story significant enough to give it pride of place as the last tale on the book's final day of storytelling.

Petrarch read the novella and converted it to an exemplum in Latin for male scholars. Griselda entered English culture through Chaucer's "Clerk's Tale," which is largely based on Petrarch's version. Plays, ballads, and pamphlets on Griselda issued forth on the continent and in England throughout the early modern period, with a cluster of publications and performances in the mid- to late sixteenth century. Arguably the most radical change between versions occurred when Petrarch reworked Boccaccio. The Decameron's final tale is told by the satirist Dioneo, a crucial choice by Boccaccio. Refusing to let the happy ending stay happy, Dioneo spells out the political import of the story and caps it off with a horn joke against the marquis:

Everyone was very happy with the way everything had turned out ....Gualtieri was judged to be the wisest of men (although the tests to which he had subjected his wife were regarded as harsh and intolerable), and Griselda the wisest of them all ....What more can be said here, except that godlike spirits do sometimes rain down from heaven into poor homes, just as those more suited to governing pigs than to ruling over men make their appearances in royal palaces?

Who besides Griselda could have endured the severe and unheard-of trials that Gualtieri imposed upon her and remained with a not only tearless but happy face? It might have served Gualtieri right if he had run into the kind of woman who, once driven out of her home in nothing but a shift, would have allowed another man to shake her fur to the point of getting herself a nice-looking dress out of the affair.

Scholars often downplay Dioneo's bitter words about pig-tending and his final putdown of Gualtieri, attributing it to his cynicism; but their labors to match the tale's disturbing sadism with an uplifting exemplary meaning are less than persuasive. The passage is much more than a glib throwaway, as Edward Fechter points out: "the climax angrily repudiates theological allegory and exemplum." Certainly, it seems fitting that the last lines of the last tale in the Decameron should recapitulate the Boccaccian theme of cuckoldry as female revenge. Dioneo's parting shot about "the shaking of the fur" is also an invitation to his listeners and the book's readers to come up with better interpretations than do the silly sheeplike courtiers of the tale, who judge "Walter wise and Griselda the wisest of all."

Furthermore, it is a jest that asks for scornful laughter, especially from listeners who have grutched throughout the tale at Walter's arrogance, egotism, and sadism. Petrarch told Boccaccio that the story so fascinated him that he decided to spread the tale to scholars abroad. So "snatching up my pen, I attacked this story of yours." The angle of Petrarch's attack on the novella (which he termed "a little too free at times") becomes manifest at the cuckoldry-free conclusion of "A Fable of Wifely Obedience and Devotion," in which he erases Boccaccio's satire and his bawdy call for female revenge:

This story it has seemed good to me to weave anew, in another tongue, not so much that it might stir the matrons of our times to imitate the patience of this wife-who seems to me scarcely imitable-as that it might stir all those who read it to imitate the woman's steadfastness, at least; so that they may have the resolution to perform for God what this woman performed for her husband ...Therefore I would assuredly enter on the list of steadfast men the name of anyone who endured for his God, without a murmur, what this obscure peasant woman endured for her mortal husband.

Petrarch's straight-faced version has none of Dioneo's political satire or irony. He is writing in Latin to male scholars, not in vernacular Italian to women and men, as Boccaccio had done. Nonetheless, it is Petrarch that Chaucer credits by name in the vernacular, mixed-audience "Clerk's Tale," although he departs from Petrarch in crucial ways. The Clerk does follow his source in insisting that his moral applies not to wives but to all humankind: This storie is seyd, nat for that wyves sholde Folwen Grisilde as in humilytee, For it were inportable, though they wolde; But for every wight, in his degree, Should be constant in adversitee As was Grisilde .... (I 142-47)

Chaucer actually intensifies Petrarch's warning that wives should not try to imitate Griselda, calling her example "inportable," or unbearable. (The Merchant, whose turn comes next, blatantly ignores this caveat, complaining "Ther is a long and large difference I Bitwix Grisildis grete pacience I And my wyf the passyng crueltee.") Still, scholarly attempts to align Chaucer's Walter with God do not work because Walter is described as "tempting" his wife, a word almost always associated with sin and vice. In another departure from Petrarch, Chaucer's Clerk breaks in several times to condemn the marquis. After Walter first decides to try his wife, the Clerk interjects hotly what neded it Hir for to tempte, and alwey moore and moore, Thogh som men preyse it for a subtill wit? But as for me, I seye that yvele it sit T'assaye a wyf whan that it is no nede, And putten hire in angwysshe and in drede. (45?-62)

Chaucer's version subtly calls Grisildis's ovine quality into question. The lamb of God is Christ, of course, and Grisildis' meekness when her daughter is taken away resembles his suffering: "Grisildis moot al suffre and al consente, I And as a lambe she sitteth meke and stille" But "moot" she? Within English popular culture, sheep and lambs do sometimes stand for the positive values of resignation and endurance-for example, in emblems on patience. But there is no doubt that sheep generally connote passivity, cowardice, and stupidity. In terms of sheer frequency, the negative secular connotation overwhelms the positive religious one.

A related complicating effect is the criticism leveled at "the unsad" (that is, fickle and sheeplike) people of the realm, who at first deplore Walter's acts but change their minds when they see the pretty new queen (actually his daughter), leading "sadde folk" to exclaim: "0 stormy people! unsad and evere untrewe!" As the Clerk finishes his tale, he shows that he is fully aware that not all his listeners will appreciate Griselda's virtues. With teasing wit he acknowledges the Wife of Bath, who has been called the tale's motivating force and dialogic counterpart. Just before the comic envoy he promises "for the Wyves love of Bathe" to gladden her "and al hire secte" with a song urging them to ignore Grisildis and revel in shrewdam (rr69-74).

By shifting the Clerk's role from that of the preacher of a pious exemplum to a merry jester-singer, Chaucer undercuts his clerkly authority and blurs the moral legibility of his tale, already obscured by Griselda's lack of moral agency and her husband's viciousness. Nonetheless, Griselda quickly proved alluring to husbands, and she retained that allure despite proving highly problematic as a pattern for wives. Like the new husband in the jest about the pottage, men who wanted very much to promote Griselda as a model found her too hot to handle.

In the training manual he prepared for his young wife in the 1390s, the Menagier de Paris offers a confused and troubled account of why he wants her to learn about Griselda. He rushes to assure his wife that he'll never torment her "beyond reason" as the "foolish, arrogant" Walter does Griselda, nor does he expect such obedience: I have set down this story here only in order to instruct you, not to apply it directly to you, and not because I wish such obedience from you. I am in no way worthy of it. I am not a marquis, nor have I taken in you a shepherdess as my wife. Nor am I so foolish, arrogant, or immature in judgment as not to know that I may not properly assault or assay you thus, nor in any such fashion.

God keep me from testing you in this way or any other, under color of lies or dissimulations …I apologize if this story deals with too great cruelty-cruelty, in my view, beyond reason. Do not credit it as having really happened; but the story has it so, and I ought not to change it nor invent another, since someone wiser than I composed it and set it down. Because other people have seen it, I want you to see it too, so that you may be able to talk about everything just as they do.

What he really wants, it seems, is for his wife to be au courant. Griselda had "much currency off the page as a talking point in the late fourteenth century" and was "a subject about which wives might be expected to have an opinion." Codified as a way to get women talking (instead of shutting them up), the narrative about testing is itself a means of testing a woman's opinions and conduct. Is Griselda sick or stoic? Enslaved or free? Is hers a saint's tale, with Walter an abstract tool in the central mystery of her endurance, or is it as much a story about Walter and his court? Is he a cruel tyrant or a stern but loving husband with every right to test his wife? Is Walter God and Griselda a female Christ or Abraham or Job? All these positions have been argued during the six centuries of the debate.

Some recent readers still find Griselda admirable and even question whether she should be regarded as a passive victim. Harriet Hawkins has argued that Chaucer's tale should be read as a criticism of unquestioning obedience to authority, even divine authority, while Lars Engle hears "an implicit voice of sane moral protest" in Grisildis's mild objections to her husband. Such strained attempts at recuperation show that Griselda disturbs more than she edifies, raising but failing to answer questions about the limits of obedience in the face of tyranny and the conflict between Christian duty and wifely subjection.”

- Pamela Allen Brown, “Griselda the Fool.” in Better a Shrew than a Sheep: Women, Drama, and the Culture of Jest in Early Modern England

#pamela allen brown #renaissance #history #medieval #late middle ages #better a shrew than a sheep

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shihalyfie · 4 years ago

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@atsoraasayoma replied to your post: “The paradox of the relationship between Takeru and Hikari”

Considering how passionate the fanbase is for Takeru and Hikari as a ship this has been handled very delicately and is very forthright. All things considering I never realized they did not really know each other and got to know each other more until after they met with their jogress partners and actually started opening up more to each other. Now, I have to ask this question because I grew up with the English dub here and did not learn about the Japanese versions of these two since I was much older. I know you have not been particularly fond of Tri as it throws a wrench in the whole franchise, but considering that do you believe their relationship in Tri gives credence even more to the possibility of them getting involved in a romantic relationship? (I have read your extensive critique by the way. Very impressive.) And while I am it it seems to me they do have a large degree of familiarity with each other in zero two and their relationship keeps building in closeness throughout the series. They were merely acquaintances in zero two but a lot of times she has deferred to Takeru for help rather than the others and has great confidence in him (more so in English version anyway but still). As a diehard takari fan myself since my youth (and having no concept of the differences of ages of the characters between dub and sub at the time) I wanted to ask you all things considering the epilogue I had theorized that that since the epilogue does not show who their partners were their was a possibility that they could have actually gotten married, however I learned much later in life the director said in an interview they did not. Considering all of THAT do you think (minus the interview) they might change this if they make a kizuna sequel? Since they do lean heavily towards them being together (in my own warped sense probably yes, but I am not the only one) or if they do if they will leave it still ambiguous (It all depends on the director?)?

I’ll bullet-point my responses here:

I would like to reiterate that my reason for not including tri. in these analyses is that tri. and Adventure/02 are in such stark contradiction to each other (especially in regards to 02) that I will have to retroactively take a knife to the consistency of my own analyses just to make it work. It’s not relevant to my personal sentiments of whether I like or dislike the series; I’d have tried to make it work if I could, even if I disliked it (I have said multiple times that I don’t necessarily agree with all of the creative decisions I analyze, and I even have positive sentiments about Daisuke’s V-Tamer chapter even if it doesn’t track with his character). In this case, tri.’s portrayal of the two characters in question and what makes them “interested” in each other runs contrary to the nature of how they were portrayed in 02, so I honestly feel that I can’t say “tri. says that it’s possible for them to hook up after 02″ because that requires them to completely ditch everything we knew about their characters to make that setup even possible (and, to be a bit blunt about it, I’m frankly extremely doubtful that the higher-up staff on tri. even watched 02 to begin with or referenced anything beyond a SparkNotes-esque summary of it). I have to work with a version of the two characters who are as bad at communicating with each other as they were at the beginning of 02, a Takeru whose behavior and way of reacting to things that impact him run contrary to his portrayal in 02 and everything Iori helped him with, and a version of Hikari whose world revolves around her brother to the point she’d rather everyone die than she get to be with him (which is the exact opposite of the problem presented in 02, that she’d rather doom herself by doing nothing and not burdening others, including her brother). It also requires assuming that the two characters would be able to so cheerfully cut off everything regarding their other friends in 02, when so much of the series’s theme was about how influential the other four were in them opening up. Therefore, if I want to talk about “Hikari and Takeru in 02, and what their future would be like if they decided to take things in a romantic direction”, I honestly cannot believe it would be for the reasons presented in tri. instead of something more consistent with what we saw of them in 02, and figuring out some way to make it work would require mental loops to the degree that I’m not particularly willing to do. Therefore, I will not consider them in the same analysis. If someone else wants to do it, I invite them to, but I will not be the one to do it, because my priorities are with Adventure and 02 and everything that works alongside it.

My last rewatches of the Japanese version of 02 didn’t give me a particular impression that the two of them hold each other in that much regard over the others, to be honest. A lot of the Japanese dialogue revolves around the fact they don’t talk about their feelings or impressions about anything, to the point it’s borderline unnerving because you don’t understand what they’re thinking. That’s a plot point, because their Jogress arcs revolve around the fact that Miyako (who figured that Hikari must be secretly holding something over her) and Iori (who’s initially confused by the duality of Takeru’s “kindness” and sudden explosive outbursts) don’t actually “know” them as well as it initially seemed, and are the right Jogress partners for them because they have the sort of personalities who can break through those initial walls. Yamamoto Taisuke, Takeru’s own voice actor, commented on Takeru being a little “scary” because he’s “thinking about a lot of things” that he’s not being honest about (this presumably being something he can say because he was likely given clear directions to make sure a bit of “dishonesty” came off in his performance of Takeru). Since the English dub added a lot of dialogue in almost every direction (and, through no likely fault of their own, made a lot of assumptions they probably shouldn’t have), it’s probably a major reason for the disparity in impressions we have.

Regarding the epilogue and the infamous interview in question: Kizuna was overseen by Seki Hiromi, the original Adventure/02′s producer (not director), who was the same person who gave that fateful May V-Jump interview and was very firm about the epilogue holding. I don’t think anything she said discounted the idea of them two experimenting with a romantic relationship in the future; it just means that it didn’t end up going forward long-term. Adventure and 02 were very dedicated to modeling human behavior in ways similar to how it works in real life, even if it ran contrary to expectations in media, so the reality of the situation is that “childhood friend” relationships like these very rarely end up in long-term relationships and marriage down the line, because while a long-term partner should be someone you trust and can communicate with through good times and bad, “trust”, “comfort around each other”, “mutual emotional awareness”, and “romantic attraction” can all often be very different things. That two people can have a perfectly meaningful relationship with trust and admiration for each other that does not end up in a long-term romantic partnership is arguably more common than the converse (unless we want to imply that everyone has feelings for their closest friends?) -- real life will give you people with mutually trusting relationships who talk about all of their problems with each other, but have zero feelings for each other at all whatsoever, and then one will develop a crush on someone they barely even know because they’re “attractive”, and then start dating them and figure out the part of getting to know each other after the fact, and there’s no sin in that. I think it’s certainly foolhardy to deny that they had a relationship of good esteem, but whether that necessarily has to imply romance is the question for the ages, and is the likely cause of the divide between those who see it embedded in the whole series and those who don’t see it happening at all. So as a result, to be honest about it, I don’t get the impression that baiting the ship was the 02 staff’s intention, regardless of how it came out -- being really terrible at not realizing that the audience would read it differently is a very common theme with 02 -- and that’s why things ended the way they did (but of course, I don’t think that should stop those who ship it from coming up with their own outcomes).

I am not particularly holding out for a Kizuna sequel at all (as much as I’m apprehensive about how much they love to milk this, they themselves have been hinting that we shouldn’t be holding out for it), and if there were one, I’m also not sure they want to open the wound further after the controversies surrounding ship baiting in tri. and the fact that it’s unlikely they’ll want to depict anything that wasn’t in the current canon epilogue (and look how hesitant Kizuna was to portray anything particularly groundbreaking with the actual canon ships). I think, personally, the biggest fear I would have about a future entry dealing with the ship (well, beyond the fact that I really don’t want to see a future entry at all) would be that it might all too easily end up with an external party doing it to pander to the ship’s fanbase instead of paying proper care to retaining the integrity of their characters and character relationships; for me it’s not really about there being the ship or no ship as much as I care that it’s done in a way believable for their characters and not just for the sake of having it. It’s not that I think an external party making it would necessarily go off the rails -- I think the tri. stage play is a fantastic example of an external product executing this tastefully -- but lack of original staff involvement is now considered a “massive red flag” after tri.-related controversy, and Kizuna having Seki and Yamatoya’s presence was a hugely advertised part of it (and they still couldn’t escape controversy when Kakudou stepped off), so I think Toei is likely to be very cautious about how they go about this from now on.

#atsoraasayoma #tri negativity #shiha's ask box

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miracvlovs · 4 years ago

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✗✗✗ you see [ kaleb yıldırım ] around lately? yeah i heard that the [ cis male ] is up to no good. [ he / him ] has been here for [ five years ] now but they’re still pretty [ abrasive ] which is fine because they’re also [ debonair ] so it balances out. the [ twenty-eight ] year old [ hitman for hire ] actually looks like a lot like [ alperen duymaz ], don’t you think? it’s best to watch out, though, because it’s been said that they’re really into [ strong cigarettes & even stronger whiskey ].

hey, hello, hi, bonjour! s’up buttercups? ‘tis i, your friendly neighbourhood loser chrissie ( a.k.a an irish doofus who is utter plot trash and the actual WORST at keeping track with discord messages, oops ) and i’m super duper excited to be here among you fab human beings! anywho, this is my first kiddo kaleb and he is … how do you say … morally grey. basically his morals are very questionable in every aspect. but! on the plus side, he’s very talented and good at his job even if he is ruthless and callous, oop. he is … the worst and also lowkey messed up inside tbh so pls excuse his blunt and sarcastic nature. plot-wise i’m open to literally anything and everything so come at me with any ideas ya got! i’m always diggity down to spit ball ideas and form some dope connections so pls feel free to invade my ims or hmu on le cord ( chrissie.#9606 ) and we can brainstorm until our heart’s content! if ya wanna, go ahead and light that lil grey heart up red and i’ll shimmy my butt your way for all of the good stuff. anywho, let’s get down to the nitty-gritty, shall we?

fundamentals.

KALEB EMER YILDIRIM — twenty-eight, hitman for hire, + one snarky son of a gun / troubled dude with daddy issues / all issues tbh !

aesthetics ➤ dried blood caked into the grooves of cut knuckles, the lingering scent of smoke and gasoline, silver slivers of past scarring, five o’clock shadow peppering a blunt jawline, discolourations of blue and purple decorating battered hands, a subtle smirk etched upon a devious countenance, calloused fingertips riddled with small paper cuts, dark circles under almost-black eyes, the noise of screeching tires in the middle of the night, a tall stature adorned in all-black attire, ghosts of bruises staining calloused skin green, a scuffed zippo lighter in a pack of marlboros containing only one cigarette, white shirts with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows, a sly grin under stormy dark eyes, a sniper on the roof of a deserted building, the roar of a car engine, & clenched, white-knuckled fists.

nicknames. kal.

date of birth. november third.

gender. cis male.

pronouns. he + him.

birthplace. manhattan, nyc.

orientation. bisexual + aromantic.

education. bachelor of music degree obtained from manhattan school of music.

spoken languages. can speak fluent english, turkish, spanish, & french.

negative traits. haughty, abrasive, enigmatic, cynical, temperamental, calculating, hedonistic, distant, sarcastic, & volatile.

positive traits. adept, diligent, charming, resilient, candid, adept, charming, audacious, determined, & resourceful.

strengths. efficient, energetic, self-confident, strong-willed, strategic thinker, charismatic, & inspiring.

weaknesses. stubborn, dominant, intolerant, impatient, arrogant, poor handling of emotions, cold, & ruthless.

talents. piano, retaining information, memory recall, lock-picking, carjacking, hand-to-hand combat, automobile knowledge, tracking people down, & excellent problem-solving abilities.

physiology. dark brown eyes. dark brown hair. six feet, one inch tall. of a lean, broad stature with a straight posture and evident height. has a few silvery scars littered across his skin. has a few tattoos in a few less visible places. is ambidextrous.

psychology. scorpio zodiac. water element. slytherin house. entj-a. chaotic neutral. type eight enneagram. choleric temperament. interpersonal intelligence type. addicted to alcohol, tobacco, prescription drugs, cocaine, and cannabis. suffers from addiction and insomnia. his vices are lust, wrath and pride. his virtues are ... honestly, probably just diligence tbh.

background.

possible triggers : infidelity, divorce, alcoholism, drug abuse, cancer, death, car crash, funeral, blood, murder, suicide mention, gun mention, & various references to death and murder.

a synopsis. ah, here he is—my tol, troubled, grouchy son : ' ) don't u just adore ur resident trashy, snarky, but precious and sad fuckboi muse? bc i know I DO! anyways, before i digress, i'll cut to the chase. so, waaay before he blessed the universe with his presence, his mother ( who was originally from turkey ) moved to the states where she met one alexander hale. you can probably guess the rest: the pair married, they had children, everything seemed to be going swimmingly, yada yada. here’s a lil background: the hale family—a line of manhattan-born businessmen / lawyers / diplomats etc. they're dripping in wealth, not always as squeaky clean as they portray themselves as to be. kaleb’s dad was a douche, expected both of his sons to follow in his shadow and become lawyers, ran around behind his wife's back: the whole shoot and shebang of a classic a-hole. he always kind of ignored kaleb in favour of his eldest son joshua so kaleb kinda became hard-hearted and resentful due to the lack of his father's attention. skip a few years and he spied his dad cheating on his mother with his secretary though he refused to tell another soul for fear of any potential backlash. soon enough, his mother found this out for herself, their argument ruined his thirteenth birthday party then they divorced soon after. his mother fell off the wagon, became terminally ill—all while his father was remarrying and expecting a daughter with his secretary. it was a hella rough two years for kaleb. it got even worse. eventually, his mother passed away and his step-mother divorced his father to breeze off into the sunset with her new lover; leaving her daughter with her piss-poor excuse of a dad. at this point, kaleb was lonely and angry but adopted the role of his step-sister's protector, shielding her from their father's increasing substance abuse induced violence. just before his seventeenth birthday, his father died in a car crash. of course, he didn't entirely mourn the loss. almost immediately, he and his younger sister moved in with their elder brother who helped kaleb get into university. with dear ole dad out of the picture, he could finally pursue his interest and flair for music. after he graduated, he moved to santa ysabel with his brother and brother's family. in the beginning, things were going fine. yeah, sure, he was struggling for work and felt bad that his brother had to keep him afloat. normal stuff. then, one day, things quickly turned sour in his world. [ TRIGGER FOR GORE, BLOOD, SUICIDE MENTION, GUN MENTION, MURDER, DEATH ] he’d came home to find the locks on the doors busted, advancing into the house carefully only to find his brother’s lifeless corpse crumbled on the kitchen tiles: his throat and wrists slashed, posed as a suicide. of course, kaleb knew better. he knew his brother; knew he would never leave him or his family. upon further inspection of the house, he’d discovered the body of his wife upstairs: a bullet hole between her eyes. [ TRIGGER OVER ] the whole ordeal was enough to turn his stomach but once the sickness had subsided, all kaleb felt was a strong thirst for blood. sure, it was pretty damn stupid to try and seek revenge or whatnot ... but kaleb had always been one to let his heart guide his brain. anyways, time skip now to the moment he’d uncovered his brother’s entanglement with some dodgy loan shark, drug dealing criminals who were responsible for his murder. in the end, he’d hunted them down and eradicated them one by one, over a span of weeks. at first, he hated himself and what his desire for vengeance had turned him into but he kept going until he’d got them all: until he’d grown numb. truthfully, how he wound up taking lives for a living is beyond him. he woke up one day, found himself hired by some big-wig businessman who wanted rid of his business partner and et voilà, he was tangled up in the dark side of existence. i mean, was he blackmailed into doing his first paid hit? yes. but who can blame him? especially when they claimed to have intel regarding the sudden demise of a prominent figure in the criminal underbelly of the city, a.k.a his brother’s killer. it was a risk kaleb simply couldn’t take. he prefers to keep himself anonymous, hidden behind shadows, unsuspecting. death has become a job. nothing more. nothing less. it’s simply the algorithm of his existence: receive a dossier, take care of the target, get paid a hefty lump sum. and all just for enacting a stranger’s revenge in the blood of another. he moves like a deadly phantom, his footsteps light as a feather, whipping through the night like a bullet through a target’s skull. sartre claims that hell is other people. and if you were to stare into kaleb’s eyes—eyes eerily similar to having been cut from coal—you might just see hell and everyone in it staring right back at you. as nietzsche wrote: “ he who fights with monsters should be careful lest he thereby become a monster. and if thou gaze long into an abyss, the abyss will also gaze into thee. ”

random extras.

he has a lot of small scars over his body, most of which he can’t account for or has forgotten about.

owns and drives a black 1969 boss 429 mustang which he loves arguably more than he loves himself.

speaking of, he actually is full of self-hatred so don’t let the haughtiness fool you.

trusts nobody but himself and is loyal to nobody but himself.

has a lot of anger issues so often ends up taking part in underground fights.

he rates around a solid three on the kinsey scale.

is a distant person; closed-off emotionally and prefers to keep himself to himself.

when it comes to whether or not he is morally decent or an extremely bad person, he is somewhere in the middle of that spectrum.

he isn’t heartless but he isn’t exactly compassionate either.

kind of shady but knows how to pass himself as charming.

has been thru sum shit n seen sum shit so he’s v messed up inside.

though he does have a soft spot for animals and children.

his marksmanship is impeccable.

he’s naturally gifted with firearms and his shot is always on point.

dark eyes and bruised knuckles are his ultimate aesthetic tbh.

actually really appreciates classical music, though he’ll never tell. blame it on his piano lessons from childhood.

speaking of piano, he’s low key gifted at playing although he rarely does these days.

has a very short fuse and can lose his temper quite easily.

he has a good heart and good intentions when it comes to those he actually cares about although he’ll never let this show.

favourite coping mechanism? isolation.

a bit of a lone wolf. he keeps people at arm’s length but acts in a way where people are under the illusion he’s their friend.

basically the tall, dark and handsome trope: ( most of the tall, dark and handsome men display aloof, cold and distant personality but they do have a gentle and caring side. )

is a little snarky and grumpy but if you manage to break this exterior, you’ll find he’s quite witty and easy going.

he got into fighting at a young age. it was the only way to try and learn how to defend himself against his father.

sleep?? he doesn’t know her.

tends to repress his emotions until he explodes.

healthy coping mechanisms?? he doesn’t know them either.

is prone to pushing the self destruct button.

you can find a pinterest board for him by clicking anywhere here.

#hey hi hello happy to be here !!!#this is my son kal n he's ... A LOT.#show this some luv n i'll come atcha for plots !!!#indulgence.intro

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veiledpeaches · 5 years ago

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chance encounters | part i: what secrets we keep

Summary: Between pages of meddling friends and societal expectations, all she actually wants is to find a happily ever after with Doyoung, even if it feels like that is no longer possible.

part i x part ii x part iii x part iv x part v x part vi

word count: 3k

thank you @seasonblues, you’re an inspiration to me.

She has just clocked into the office when she spots Doyoung at his desk, typing away furiously at his screen. This morning he has the blinds around his office up, such that anyone entering the office can see the faint glow of the computer screen reflected on Doyoung’s countenance. She guesses that he would be leaving the office earlier today, since he’s dressed a bit more casually, electing for his fringe to fall loosely onto the tip of his eyebrows instead of its usual comma hairstyle, his pressed white button-down free of its tie. His lips are moving, presumably mouthing the words presented on his screen while his eyebrows are slightly furrowed in thought.

As she gets to her desk, she lets her leather satchel, plump with files, fall onto her chair before walking towards the Managing Editor’s office.

“Haewon!” Doyoung’s face lights up as he meets her gaze, a childish and toothy grin forming on his face as he takes the cup of coffee from her. “I have excellent news for you.”

“Morning boss,” she laughs, “aren’t you leaving tomorrow? I thought you were on leave today.”

Doyoung hums dismissively, taking a sip of his coffee. “They like it, the Evergreen winner. They liked his work.”

The Evergreen Writers’ Competition was a local youth creative writing competition that was also a popular event that publishers looked into to discover aspiring and potential young writers. Haewon had been promoting the recent winner’s work to Doyoung relentlessly for the past few weeks. Even though Doyoung had been generally unconvinced of the commercial potential of the novel, he had submitted her proposal of it to Headquarters for their consideration under Haewon’s ceaseless endorsement.

“They’re publishing it?” Haewon presses her hands together with glee, “They liked it?”

“They liked it so much they want me to bring both the original and revised manuscript when I leave tomorrow. Oh, I’ll need the cover artwork too. They’re planning on translating and pushing it out to the American audience.” Doyoung smiles knowingly.

“I told you it was good!”

There is a hint of a smile at Doyoung’s lips, “I have to admit I couldn’t put it down the whole time, and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. But-” he pauses, “you need to admit the writing isn’t spectacular. The emotions are too raw, and his diction is unrefined-”

“These are things we can change with copyediting boss,” Haewon emphasizes, “with proofreading. We can make it better. But the world building is immaculate. It’s an incredible piece of work for a seventeen-year-old.”

Doyoung narrows his eyes, a smirk peeking from his lips. “Are you sure this has nothing to do with the way he looks?”

“Boss!” Haewon is scandalized, “he’s seventeen!”

“When I googled about him, I knew at once why Marketing said he would be good for press,” he laughs. “He looks more like he should be scoring on a game or scoring dates than scoring at a budding writers’ competition.”

While Doyoung has maintained a more professional relationship with her through the three years she has worked as his assistant, there are moments like these where Doyoung’s cheeky side slips through the cracks, reminding her of why she was so drawn to him from the very start. How effortless his humor is, how playful he actually is. The small crinkles that form at the corner of his eyes when his face breaks into a laugh. How wide his eyes get and how dramatic his gestures become when he’s talking about things he loves outside of work, like a drama he’d just started on, or the current political climate. The way he bends over her desk to explain to her about target readership in different export markets. And more than that. How much he loves reading, and his job, even on days he can’t agree with the directors. How he throws a disdainful expression at her when he overhears colleagues making sexist comments. How he tells her he’s trying to become a better listener, whether people need that or not. How convinced he is of his rightness and proud he is of his work, but not in the least satisfied with it. How attentive he is to every detail, whether it’s about Accounting’s expenditure records or about how her eyes remain a bit watery for the rest of the day after she receives a call from her mother.

Haewon rolls her eyes, but her smile is unwavering. “I’ll go prepare the documents you need now, boss.”

He nods and turns to his phone in his hand, and she’s about to turn and exit his office, when he speaks again, this time gentler, “oh by the way, Inhee told me you haven’t RSVP’d yet.”

He looks up from his phone, and then back at it again, his smile uneasy – a classic Doyoung gesture when he needed to ask about something he didn’t really want to. As if he needed to check his guest list again. “Would you be busy that day? I don’t recall you telling me you had to be out of town.”

She’s about to speak, when a breathless Lee Donghyuck appears out of the blue, rushing to Doyoung and sighing emphatically about this month’s sales numbers. She smiles and nods, exiting his office with a promise of talking later.

It’s just after lunch and well into Haewon’s food coma when her desk phone rings, startling her from a well-deserved but secret post-lunch doze.

“Dam-il Publishing, this is Haewon speaking.”

“Haewon!” The excited whisper is characteristic only of Nakamoto Yuta, whose wide-eyed gaze Haewon meets as she averts her eyes towards the Designers side of the office. “It’s me, it’s me!”

“Oh Yuta, that reminds me, I’ll need the proposed artwork for Cho Young Jun’s novel.”

“Cho Young Jun? The bald guy?”

“No! The prodigy! The Evergreen winner! I need it by today, Doyoung’s flying to New York tomorrow-”

“Oh, I’ve completed that weeks ago, I’ll email it over later whatever – listen, I heard what Doyoung asked you about just now. About the wedding.”

Haewon flinches, then realizes what Yuta would probably be thinking, and a small sigh of relief leaves her. “You mean Donghyuck told you.”

“I heard, Donghyuck told me – what does it matter… Is it because of the program? Did you get in?”

General nosiness aside, Yuta’s actually one of the few colleagues (other than Doyoung) whose company Haewon really enjoys. Which is why Haewon had told him about an application she made months ago, to pursue a master’s program in Literary Arts at Brown University. Needless to say, she had earned Yuta’s immediate and fervent support, knowing that studying English Literature instead of Creative Writing for her bachelor’s had been a cop-out on Haewon’s part and a regret she had drunkenly let slip to him at an informal company gathering.

She’d always wanted to study Creative Writing, and while she didn’t exactly need that master’s degree to become a writer per se, she really hopes to further her studies in fiction writing.

“No Yuta, I haven’t received news yet.”

“Shouldn’t you know by now?” Yuta has always been straightforward, “besides, why’re you keeping it a secret? You should just tell Doyoung; you’re so close, he’ll be happy for you. You shouldn’t have to feel guilty about taking your shot.”

The reality is, the situation is a lot more complicated than Yuta’s understanding. There’s the thing with leaving the company in the midst of this busy period when Doyoung needs his assistant, but there’s also the other thing, the bigger issue at stake. That Haewon is in love with Doyoung and might not necessarily want to see him walk down the aisle with a woman who isn’t her.

“It’s not that simple – besides, he’s been swamped ever since the acquisition.”

Dam-il Publishing Co. was a small local publishing company with a focus in Korean language fiction novels, until its recent acquisition by the large multinational New York-based Bertsman Publishing House. Despite the acquisition, Bertsman had allowed Dam-il to retain its name, knowing that it is an emerging trusted brand among aspiring and established writers, and a known publishing company in many Korean households. However, the acquisition had also brought Bertsman employees into the office, and the number of people were far too many for Doyoung to handle at the start.

Doyoung is also, generally, a less trusting person when it comes to work ethics. While he greatly appreciates his Dam-il subordinates and their efficiency, he has less to say about their Bertsman counterparts – in Yuta’s words, Doyoung finds them “fucking lazy”. Haewon has always been his key go-to person to check on their progress in their projects, and he relies on her effortlessly and wholeheartedly.

Doyoung is… something else. According to their mutual friend Johnny, Doyoung had majored in Finance in college, done inexplicably well and had received an offer from one of the big four financial consulting companies even before graduation. However, as Doyoung had told him upon graduation, that wasn’t the life he was after. He loved books and wanted to make a career out of it, so he started working for Dam-il as an Acquisitions Editor’s assistant right after graduation against the heed of his professors and university friends. He was, to say the least, smart and a fast learner, quickly making his way up the company ladder and was handed the highest rank of Managing Editor in just nine years (a fact that somehow only made Doyoung more attractive to Haewon).

Thanks to his work ethic and Dam-il’s excellent sales numbers, he’s now the Bertsman CEO Fulworth’s most trusted Managing Editor – something Johnny loves teasing him about.

Yuta sighs into the phone, lifting her from her stupor against the quiet backdrop of a whirring air-conditioner and a bubbling coffee machine.

“Well nevertheless, you need to tell him soon, Haewon – especially if you can’t go to his wedding.”

Johnny is sitting in front of their living room window by the time Haewon reaches home. She’s completely exhausted, her cranberry lipstick visible only on the outer reaches of her mouth and her eyeliner leaving small charcoal patches beneath her lower lashes. It’s ten in the evening on a Friday night, but surprisingly Johnny is at home sipping red wine, his eyes relaxed and shut. His other hand gestures wildly and somewhat pretentiously like an overexcited conductor to what Haewon recognizes as the last line of Frank Sinatra’s I’ve Got The World On A String.

“You’re home early,” Haewon comments.

Johnny swings around in his chair. “Haewonnie, I feel like I’ve gotten old,” he pouts dramatically, even though, Haewon thinks, his bright, enthusiastic puppy-like expression definitely begs to differ.

“Mark asked me after work if I wanted to hit a bar downtown with the kids tonight – but I actually feel drained. I had to say no.” The slightly annoying and yet endearing pout hasn’t left his face.

Just as Doyoung is Fulworth’s golden boy, Mark Lee is Johnny’s – constantly trailing after him at his company. Despite being almost thirty-two years old and the head of his department, Johnny loves hanging out with the young employees and interns, determined to keep his youthfulness in check.

Haewon grew up in the same neighborhood as Johnny back in Chicago, where Johnny was popular among the Asian kids as the kind older brother to them, fending off bullies on their behalf and bringing them to bookstores and ice-skating rings and bowling alleys. When he turned fifteen, Johnny moved back to South Korea to attend high school – a decision that surprised everyone in the neighborhood. But Johnny has always done what Johnny wants and exceled in every situation, so his parents agreed. While Haewon did not consider herself particularly close to Johnny when they were younger, Johnny has always been generous with his concern for others. When he found out from his mother that she was planning a move to Korea three years ago, he reached out to her and offered to share his apartment with her.

(“The rent is too expensive anyway,” Johnny had insisted, but Haewon knew even then that he could definitely afford it given his salary.)

Johnny is… pretty much Haewon’s lifesaver. Even before she came to Korea, Johnny had everything arranged for her. Understanding that she had majored in English Literature and loved books, he hooked her up with a publishing job at Dam-il under Doyoung, a deed Haewon has always been insanely grateful for. And while she had been shy and quiet upon her arrival to Korea, his cheerful demeanor, along with his puppy-like enthusiasm and child-like laughter had been more than enough to draw Haewon out of her shell. Even though she had been depressed and lost in life, Johnny had been by her side, cheering her up and restoring her usual happy glow.

Unsurprisingly, Johnny is the director of the product design department for a leading technology conglomerate. Unlike Doyoung, Johnny actually enjoys the ‘hustler’ lifestyle of ‘work hard, play hard’.

They met in college where they were both in the Business faculty. Despite being inherently different, the two became close quickly, bonding over a shared distaste for unnecessary societal expectations and parochial attitudes stereotypical of elitists in their country. While growing up abroad made Johnny more open-minded and gentler with the people he met, Doyoung’s open-mindedness is the culmination of years of observing people and their idiosyncrasies. The tough experiences of witnessing school bullying and students’ imploding from academic stress fueled a quiet and righteous, vaguely Robin Hood-like, anger towards societal insularity, that is now characteristic of Kim Doyoung.

“You’re not old – besides, who wants to go to a bar when you can drink in the comfort of your own home?”

“I want to! Haewon-ah, you’re acting too old for your age-”

Her phone rings, interrupting Johnny’s nagging monologue. She glances at the caller ID before picking up quickly.

“Hey boss, what’s up?” In the background, she can hear Johnny making a chant out of the words ‘is it Doyoung?’, leaning out of his seat to peer over eagerly. She nods, and a huge grin spreads over his face.

“So sorry to disturb you this late, but it’s kind of an emergency- is that Johnny?”

It takes a moment for Haewon to realize, but Johnny has since progressed from his ‘is it Doyoung’ song to a strange jingle that sounds like ‘my friend Kim Doyoung, my brother Kim Doyoung, my love Kim Doyoung’ to the tune of a lullaby. “Yeah it is, he’s lying spread-eagled on the ground now and crying out your name in despair-”

Doyoung laughs, breathlessly and colorfully, sounding like a musical instrument of his own and making Haewon smile as she walks into her room and away from Johnny’s antics.

“Say hi to him for me. Okay so,” his voice turns serious, “do you have Cho Young Jun’s file?”

“Yeah I have it with me right now, it’s in my bag.”

“Oh thank God,” Doyoung heaves a sigh of relief, “sorry, I might need you to bring it to the airport tomorrow. I need his personal particulars and the signed hard copy of his indemnity form.”

“No apologies needed boss – but, so urgently?”

“Yeah,” Doyoung sounds frustrated, and Haewon can almost picture him running his fingers through his hair, a gesture not in the least unattractive to her. “Well he’s still considered a minor, so royalties will probably go directly to his guardian for safekeeping. And… They want him to do press.”

“Okay, so I’ll reach out to our usual media and PR agencies – what does that have to do with-”

“No…” Doyoung sighs, “American press; talk shows, interviews – things like that.”

“He’s seventeen.” Haewon raises an eyebrow, “he’s totally unprepared for that kind of thing. Plus, his English isn’t fluent, last time I checked.”

Johnny has since entered her room and conjured the most dramatically shocked expression Haewon has ever seen, as if Doyoung had informed her that Cho Young Jun would be going into prostitution instead of doing press. She glares at him as she listens to Doyoung’s instructions, ending the call with a, “okay sure, I’ll bring them for you tomorrow. Good night boss.”

Johnny smirks as she finishes the call, “ooh boss. Kinky. Me likey.”

Johnny is the only person privy to Haewon’s admittedly rather long term ‘crush’ on Doyoung, catching on rather quickly since they met and letting her down gently with “he’s attached, Haewonnie”. In fact, it’s been three years since Johnny has shared that piece of information with her, but Haewon is unfortunately still hopelessly in love with Doyoung.

Ever the best friend, while Johnny has told her that he’s worried about her pertaining to this, he manages to make the situation more light-hearted effortlessly. In fact, he sometimes cracks jokes at her expense to her privately and not unkindly, while knowing when to offer her a shoulder to cry on.

“You’ve heard me call him boss a thousand times,” she rolls her eyes, pushing him out of her room to rest for the night, “also, you’re driving me to the airport tomorrow.”

Johnny drums his fingers against the steering wheel, his cheeks puffing up as he waits for Haewon’s text to get to his car at the pick-up point. They had left the house at eight in the morning to catch Doyoung at the airport just in time before his flight, and Johnny really needs to catch up on sleep once they get home. He is absentmindedly humming to Alicia Keys’ If I Ain’t Got You on the radio, when Haewon clumsily gets into his car.

“Johnny-” At once, he realizes she’s ashen pale, her lips quivering.

“What’s wrong, Haewon? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”

“John, I just… I just saw…”

“What?” He starts the car and begins the route home when Haewon’s next words make him pull up at the side of the road in shock.

“Inhee’s cheating on Doyoung…”

w/n: this fic will be updated regularly until its resolution, look out for an update every Thursday at 9pm KST.

talk to me!! here

#nct imagines #doyoung imagines #johnny imagines #doyoung scenarios #johnny scenarios #doyoung angst #doyoung fluff #nct scenarios #nct #doyoung #johnny #nct fanfiction #doyoung fanfiction #johnny fanfiction #nct au #chance encounters #my work

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elinakazan · 4 years ago

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( ANNIE MURPHY + CIS FEMALE ) — Have you seen ELINA KAZAN? This THIRTY-FOUR year old is an ART CURATOR who resides in BROOKLYN. SHE has been living in NYC for FOUR MONTHS, and is known to be CREATIVE and CAREFREE, but can also be QUIXOTIC and DRAMATIC, if you cross them. People tend to associate them with HIGHLIGHTED PASSAGES IN A BOOK and PAINT-SPLATTERED CLOTHES | @codstarters

hiya! my name’s ella. i’m SO excited to be here and bring elina to this amazing roleplay. i can’t wait to interact with all of you! so please hmu if you’d like to plot!

. basic information

NAME: elina thisbe kazan

NICKNAME: el, ellie, lina

GENDER: cis female

PLACE OF BIRTH: victoria, british columbia, canada

HOMETOWN: birmingham, england

DATE OF BIRTH: april 26, 1986

AGE: thirty-four

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: bisexual

OCCUPATION: art curator at the moma

BOROUGH: brooklyn

. background

tw: cheating

Not much is known about Elina's biological parents. Her story is no much different than those of many children in the foster system: parents who were too young to raise a kid. She was born in Victoria, British Columbia, Canada. Although she still retains her Canadian citizenship, she does not remember much of her birthplace.

She was six months old when she was adopted by the Kazans. Both of them had immigrated to Canada ten years earlier. Her father, Estevan Kazan was a Greek citizen who moved to Canada to work on his Master's degree and her mother, Katina Trusova moved from Russia seeking a better life. By the time she was adopted, her parents had been married for five years and after several failed attempts to conceive, they decided to adopt. She does speak Greek and Russian fluently.

The Kazans lived in Vancouver for three years before Estevan was offered a job in Birmingham. The whole family relocated to England and a year later her parents adopted a baby boy and two years later a baby girl completed the family.

A happy and reckless child, Elina gave her parents several headaches. She had enough energy to light a city and no matter the number of extracurricular activities her parents enrolled her in, she simply couldn't stay still. Regardless of her endless vitality, Elina often gave nothing but satisfactions to her parents. The kind and bubbly girl turned over the years in a clever, outgoing and creative woman.

Elina never really had a plan, most of the time she just went along with the flow. One day she wanted to be an Olympic athlete and the next day she wanted to be a doctor. Her life aspirations were ever-changing. However, the only constant in her life was her love and passion for art, any kind of art. A dreamer per nature, Elina found solace in paintings, songs, films and books. They allowed her to travel to a different world and in the tough moments, art has always been there for her.

Loyal to her capricious nature, Elina tied the knot when she was just 18 years old. Harry Vandenberg was not a random choice. In fact, aside from art, he'd been the other constant in her life. Best friends since she moved to England, Elina swears that she knew she was going to marry him even at the tender age of three. It took years to go from strangers to friends to boyfriend and girlfriend and finally to husband and wife.

Elina started university shortly after the wedding. She decided to take a double program and she graduated with a Bachelor in History of Art and Classics from Oxford. While her academic life kept her busy, she often felt alone. Being in the army, Harry was often away. At first, she didn't mind the loneliness, but soon it started to take a toll on their relationship.

Throughout most of her life, Elina aimed to have a marriage like the one her parents had. In her eyes, they were the perfect couple until she found out it all had been a lie. Her parents divorce came out of nowhere but soon enough her mother explained everything. Her father had been cheating on her for the past fifteen years. Elina's whole world crumbled down upon hearing that and just like that her trust in those close to her was gone.

No one could be trusted. That was all she had taken from her parents' divorce and unfortunately she brought it into her marriage. Elina started to question Harry's faithfulness. Nothing he did or say could change her mind that her husband was not cheating. Without evidence she continued to accuse him and despite his best efforts to prove his innocence, their marriage came to and end. All those false allegations became a reality. She had pushed him away and turned him into a cheater.

Her heartache was enhanced when she saw Harry's face all over the news after his relationship with the princess came out. When it came to settle the divorce, Elina decided she didn't want anything, she just signed it and moved to Italy where she lived until four months ago.

Six months ago, she was offered her dream job: museum curator at the MOMA. She hesitated to take it since she knew Harry lived there and the last thing she wanted was to make everyone think that she was moving there for him but in the end, she couldn't deter her own dreams because of him. So, she took the job and relocated to New York four months ago. She got a nice place in Brooklyn and she hopes that the city is big enough to avoid running into her ex-husband.

. personality

Elina worships her freedom. She loves travel, adventure, meeting new people, and she longs to experience all of life. If she hates something in life that is routine. She doesn't want to lead a humdrum life and she is often doing a bunch of things as she is not tied down to one task. Her upbeat personality helps her to make friends easily and she often attracts people from all walks of life. She has a way with words and an uncanny ability to motivate others, she also loves to make people laugh and tends to be very sarcastic almost cynical. Honesty and loyalty are sacred to her and that can make her feel wary. She doesn't trust easily and chooses very careful who to trust. Elina is also an idealistic and a daydreamer. She is always in her own little world and she tends to get distracted easily.

. potential connections

siblings: she has two siblings, a brother (30) and a sister (28). they are also adopted (so the fc could be anyone). i imagine they have a good relationship, although maybe she could have had a fallout with one of them because they decided to take their father’s side in the divorce.

close friends: could be friends she made in england, italy or here in new york. she has plenty friends but this group is special because she trusts them which is a hard thing for her to do.

partner in crime: so elina is very spontaneous, they kind of person who rarely says no to adventure. unfortunately, not many people are like that but this person is just like her and they always say yes to all her plans.

art lovers: they run into each other at art galleries, exhibitions, open mics, museums, screenings, concerts, anything that involves art. so obviously they have the same interests, so they are each other art buddy.

university classmates/friends: she attended oxford for four years, then the royal academy of art and right now she’s doing a master’s at nyu.

before sunset plot: okay so she traveled a lot after her divorce, so i’d love a plot like the one in the movie, ya know, they met on a train and talked for hours, they walked around the cities and talked some more. there was a connection but then their ways had to be split.

unlikely friends: despite their differences they are friends. elina is very outgoing, reckless and impulsive while your character is the opposite of that.

fwb: since her divorce, elina hasn’t been in a serious relationship, however, this is the closest she has to one. they just fall in tune with the other. it’s easy, no strings attached. (m/f)

ex-flings: she probably has hooked up with a few people, it’s casual. (m/f)

tinder date: yeah she fell into the online dating world and let’s say it did NOT go well. it was akward but in a fun way. everything that could have gone wrong went wrong. it’s a fond memory but obviously there wasn’t a second date.

neighbours: people who live either in brooklyn or in her apartment complex.

OOOF ! okay, that’s all i have for now. i didn’t proofread this so excuse the lazy english but it’s 3 am here so my brain is dead. anyway, enough rambling. i’d loooove to plot with y’all so please like this or come and hit me up with plots. tumblr messages or discord, i’m game for anything!!! :D

#codintro #what a novel!#but plot with us pls #tw cheating

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prorevenge · 6 years ago

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Professor attempts to destroy my education!

Disclaimer:

It was my first time (when I posted this first in r\MaliciousCompliance) in Reddit altogether. Did not even know about ProRevenge. They have mentioned that my story might belong here. So please do let me know if it does not. I will remove it.

English is my second language and I am a IT Professional, which means I do not get to practice writing in English all that much. So any punctuation, grammatical or any other errors, including overuse of exclamation mark can hopefully be forgiven.

TL;DR at the bottom.

In my adopted motherland, I am a religious minority. I am a proud citizen now of this land who immigrated here. And stereotyping while not very common, but not uncommon here. And this story is from my college life.

It was one of my programming course that college hired a new professor for. Although I am a religious minority and the professor was from a different religion (which also, technically a religious minority in this land) that did not really mesh up well, I did not (as I still do not) care at all! You see, I myself am not much religious and my point of view about religion is from the prospective of (social) science. I believe my first religion is Humanity! Everything else is just a label!

So, back to the story, This professor was teaching us the basics of C++ (as the course was the Intro to C++) and during the final, he gave us a Final project that either counted as the entire final or a major portion of the final exam (can't recall the exact details since it was about 13 years ago). Once the project was done, we email it to him and he grades it. I do that and wait for my grade. It was Spring semester and Summer brake/session is about to begin.

Now, another bit of info here, if in a course, you get an "F" (for Failing), the following semester, you can take the course back again and if you pass, that "F" gets erased from your record and you are on your merry way toward your degree. BUT for some reason, (like if you do not submit your final project), you get an "I" (Incomplete) and now you have "X amount of time to Complete that work" so that "I" can be transformed into a grade. I am not too sure now, but I believe if you retake the entire course again, you get a grade but that "I" stays with you and goes to your Transcript/Diploma. It is extremely frowned upon and may hinder your graduation!

So, after waiting a few weeks for the semesters' result, I see I got an "I"! Immediately I emailed the professor asking why I got an I! No response! I call his office number... No response! I go to the department, they tells me that the professor have notated in my record (as I guess it was customary to do so) that I have not submitted my Final project and hence the "I". To which I fumed up and stated that I had indeed sent my final project using our College email system. But the department states since I am within "Y" days of that "X amount of Days" (before I need to take care of that "I") and since the professor went back to his motherland for a month, I should wait for him to return and he is the only one that can reverse the "I" from my grade! They mentioned that He probably somehow missed my email containing my final project. The department assured me that once he is back from his country, they will instruct him to fix this and notify me of it.

I waited for his return till the very last week of that "X amount of Days". He did not come back! So that week, I went back to the department and stated my case. They mentioned that since he was not back, they will email him to get some form of "OK.. I received his email with the project and I see that either he passed or failed, he gets a grade!" The Comp Sci department CC's me on that email. To my utter disbelief, that professor emails back the department chair (I am still CC'ed on it) that he went back to the email and checked! And he got NOTHING from me! So that "I" stays! He explicitly states that "I" (for Incomplete) stays!

At this point I began to fume so much so that I went back to my Department chair and the department chair now wants me to prove that I sent him that on THAT particular time (right before the end of Final). I login to the email account and I dig through and find the email; showing it in the "Sent" box. Department chair replies to that professor that the chairman concurs that I indeed sent that email to the professor. To which then, the professor replies "It may very well be, but you know how sometimes although the email is sent, it does not arrive at the recipients inbox! so I did not get it!" And right after that email, the professor now goes silent and does not respond back to the chairs' emails! every time I send an email, especially when as important as the college final project (since we are supposed to only use the email address that the college provided) when I sent the project from the college email, I also CC'ed my personal email on that! I show the receipt email from my personal email and department chair agrees that the email was indeed sent!

By this point, I am extremely desperate to overturn that "I". I will take an "F" if needed, but that "I" will hurt my education.

I was extremely popular in our college circuit; so much so that (our college was under a "Chain Education" system and I will not mention any names here; that had more than 20 different Colleges/Universities all across this city!) I knew the head honcho, the Chancellor and the college president very much and very well!

Now, on the last day, I go to the College president as well as the Chancellor! show them the proof and state my case (I might have mentioned to them that I am in the process of getting a Lawyer as I feel that this is a clear, blatant and extreme prejudice against me and may very well be racially motivated!)! They agrees that the professors' behavior contained a negative intent toward me by giving me an "I" and not a grade that can be the either of "A, B, C, D or F". I also lodge a formal complaint against the professor right then and there! They immediately instructs my department chair to take my project and grade it and then change that "I". Now you gotta understand that this was not a norm! The Chair does that and I end up getting an "A".

When someone becomes a professor for the first time, the first year or so are their Probationary period and if they do not make much splash, they can become permanent. And now, the Chancellor and the President of my college decides that it's in the University's best interest not to retain that professor any longer! Simply put, they FIRED his ASS!!!

I get my grade, I am happy! Summer ends. A new "Winter Session" is about to begin and I get an email in my personal as well as college email account from that very same professor! Lo and behold! He apologizes to me for his behavior without directly admitting his prejudiced action toward me and asks me to withdraw my complaint so he can attempt to get his Job back!!!!

I CC that email to the department chair, the college president and the Chancellor and reply to him that "I will not withdraw my complaint at all and he is lucky that I did not involve my lawyer for the serious harm that he intended to cause me! And I wish and pray that he never gets another chance to teach again; in the event that he might try to ruin another students' life!"

I graduated from that institution so long ago... but of all the great memories, the few sad ones, this sticks out to me!

TL;DR: Professor tries to ruin my education life due to the religious differences; ends up ruining his own career!

EDIT:

Many asked the question Why do I think it was due to religious differences?

Answer: I am damn good at computers and maths. So it certainly was not for the lack of my education! I was the only one from my faith. Now I have to admit, that professor didn't say anything directly negative toward me while in class (as far as I can recall ; it's been more than 13 years since that class). But why only me getting an "I" from the entire class?! Because even if he counted the other grades and ignored the final project, I still wouldn't have failed). But what else could be the reason?! Maybe I didn't pay enough attention to his daughter (joking here! I don't even know if he had one)?!

Now some context of the grading: 99.99 percent of the students gets a grade like A, B, C, D, or F. But the ones that gets an "I" for incomplete it turns into an "I F". Means Incomplete Failure. When you finish your curriculum, you get your transcript, and when you Complete the entire degree requirement, you get your diploma and get to Graduate! That "I" and then "I F" would probably have denied me my Diploma! What good does a transcript do in job interviews without the physical diploma?!

(source) (story by bebgaltiger18)

#prorevenge #by bebgaltiger18 #pro revenge #revenge stories #pro revenge stories #pro #revenge #revenge story #last10

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earnestly-ernie · 6 years ago

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[ kj apa, twenty one, cis male, he/him ] ━ hey, I just saw [ ernie taera ] walking down the streets of crownsville. they’ve lived in town for [ one week ], and you can catch them around town working as a [ personal trainer ]. I hear they’re known to be [ loyal & passionate ] and [ gullible & possessive ]. if asked, they would say their aesthetic would be [ gym equipment, eating fastfood late at night in car park, varsity jackets, cologne, band posters, flannel, beaches ]

re-reading the rules to double check i had everything down and seeing the possibility of a second muse made my indecisive brain very happy ahhh

below the cut is ernie’s history, some personality tidbits and wanted connections!!

(i was gonna do sth like i did for blair’s intro post but im lazy sksks)

history

ernie was born as the second child of four in wellington, nz to a samoan father and a british woman

he likes to think he was named after ernest hemmingway or one of the kings of hanover but everyone jokes he was named after the sesame street character

his family growing up were super close and often did a ton of stuff together; this was seen as abnormal in the immediate community because both of his parents were high up business people and the stereotype was that they didn’t have time for family

ernie grew up with a stronger sense of his maternal heritage as his father lost his family when he was quite young and thus didn’t immerse himself in his culture; ernie, concurrently, is trying to explore his samoan heritage

growing up, ernie was your typical kid who liked video games; he had a particular love for pokemon, mario and nintendogs. he was also into the grand theft auto series but mostly driving about and not doing the missions

he got into rugby around the age of nine and proved to be fairly decent at it; he eventually joined the school teams for it and looked to have a promising career if he ever wanted to take it professionally

fairly popular throughout all forms of schooling; it took a dip when he was fifteen and was unashamedly open about his bi-curiosity

for the most part, however, he had a ton of friends at any given point in his life

at the age of eighteen he was scouted by one of the professional rugby teams in new zealand and became a professional rugby player

was pencilled in to join the all blacks but ended up being unable to due to a career ending injury; he had to become ambidextrous because of the injury

he ended up getting a degree in physiology and did a few courses in coaching and refereeing in rugby but ended up becoming a reputable personal trainer mostly because it paid a bit better

has moved to crownsville with the plan for it to be temporary. he always said he’d live in another country and the quaint town life was appealing to him.

though he has plans to move back to new zealand in about three or four years, he’s open to being convinced to stay longer

personality (starting with the four listed traits)

loyal - ernie is a fiercely loyal individual. whilst growing up he had a ton of friends, he had barely any close friends and he actively chose to be loyal to them in case they were to abandon him. spurred on further by his close familial relationships and the brotherhood of the rugby teams he was a part of, ernie is as loyal as any dog

passionate - one of the standout things is that ernie will always throw himself into things, whether that be a friendship, relationship, job, hobby - whatever. ernie always gives 110% and has a tendency to dedicate his life to his interests. he’s particularly passionate about dogs and rugby

gullible - whilst not pertaining wholly to the ‘dumb jock’ stereotype, ernie isn’t going to win any awards for his academic knowledge. he was able to excel at his degree because he knew a lot of it from the practical side of rugby, rather than raw knowledge. though his gullibility does mean he can sometimes be led to believe the wrong facts, it largely centres around his loyal nature. if a client was to tell him they couldn’t meet for a session and lie, saying it was because their hamster died, ernie would become sentimental and empathetic and offer all the support. likewise, if you tell him something’s written on the ceiling, he’ll look. every. single. time!!

possessive - for however loyal ernie is, he also can get possessive. largely thanks to having few close friends growing up, ernie is the type of person to feel threatened when he sees close friends get close to other people, largely out of a fear of being replaced. whilst this is largely centred around relationships, he can also get possessive over objects he owns, a notable example being the car he has because he retains he worked hard for it and thus nobody else can drive it. he’s trying to be less manically obsessed with things, but it’s a hard trait to shrug off overnight.

in a basic sense, ernie is the personal trainer who’ll hype you up and want to be your best friend. bright and nearly always smiley, it seems hard to dampen his mood

he’s a massive teddy bear and l o v e s cuddles!!! his favourite cuddle buddy at the moment is his german shepherd puppy, cato

always!! means!! well!!! is known to make a lot of social faux pas (he blames it on the american culture being different to the new zealander and british ones he grew up with) but tries his best

still always uses british english, though

sarcastic!! tongue in cheek is his favourite type of humour. he is partial to dark humour but is aware it’s not everyone’s cup of tea

very emotional in that he wears his emotions on his face; it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know when he’s feeling down

isn’t the type of person to vent without permission but, when you give it to him, he won’t shut up

he could talk for ages about literally nothing, let alone something he’s interested in

proud of his bisexuality, largely because he had wanted to be a role model in the rugby field for any fledgling players who felt the same way

having a career ending injury literally in his second year of his career is a sore spot for him, so don’t mention it often unless you want a sad ernie :(

honestly just a massive puppy, love him

fun facts!

is ambidextrous; naturally left handed but a rugby injury meant he had to learn how to write with his right hand (though it’s healed, he often finds that his left wrist is prone to aching quicker so he’s pretty much exclusively a right-handed writer)

does a mean english accent (specifically upper middle class just like his mum; think the crown-ish)

though his scottish and irish accents are pitiful, he could convince you that he’s welsh given a proficiency in his accent

has a german shepherd puppy called cato

is allergic to peanuts

has a big issue with the texture of food; would genuinely take the time to take the seeds off of a strawberry

isn’t a fan of diets; believes in the ‘eat what you want but in moderation’ style

wanted connections!

friends

a friend that’s taken him under their wing

hookups (m/f)

budding romances

clientele

workout buddies

rugby friends

literally anything im indecisive!!

i feel like i could’ve done more but!! that’s all i could think of ahhh

if you want to plot with ernie, like this post and i’ll come im you (or you can spam my inbox with any ideas you might have sksksks)!!

#crownsvilleooc #crownsvilleintro

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lordnegan · 6 years ago

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A very, very long muse info meme thing

Tagged by: No one!

Tagging: @twiicetheheart @boltxnbastard @ancientandforevcr @safetydoesntexist @YOU! Do this and say I tagged you!

( all of these answers are based off of my twd verse )

BODY AND APPEARANCE

1. DESCRIBE THE CHARACTER’S HEIGHT AND BUILD. IS HE HEAVYSET, THIN, SHORT, RANGY? —-Negan is 6′1″ / has a pretty average build and is thin/slender. 2. HOW OLD IS HE? —-48. 3. DESCRIBE HIS POSTURE. DOES HE CARRY HIMSELF WELL OR DOES HE SLOUCH? —-Carries himself strongly and with squared shoulders. 4. HOW IS HIS HEALTH? IS HE FIT OR OUT OF SHAPE? ANY ILLNESSES OR CONDITIONS? ANY PHYSICAL DISABILITIES? —-Other than issues with not being fertile, Negan is in top physical health with no physical disabilities. He is quite physically fit as well. 5. HOW DOES HE MOVE? IS HE CLUMSY, GRACEFUL, TENSE, FLUID? —-Moves with an air of confidence and certainty, a cocky swagger with a walk that tells everyone around him that he owns every bit of ground he walks on. Very “alpha male”. 6. HOW ATTRACTIVE IS THIS CHARACTER PHYSICALLY? HOW DOES HE PERCEIVE HIMSELF IN THE MIRROR? —-VERY physically attractive and he knows this fact well.

7. DESCRIBE HIS COMPLEXION. DARK, LIGHT, CLEAR, SCARRED? —-Light and fair complexion. 8. DESCRIBE HIS HAIR: COLOR, TEXTURE, STYLE. —-Black with flecks of greying at the scalp; his beard is more salt than pepper at this point. 9. WHAT COLOR ARE HIS EYES? —-A dark and intense hazel. 10. DOES THE CHARACTER HAVE ANY OTHER NOTEWORTHY FEATURES? —-Negan has a scar on the right side of his face, between his temple and his cheek. Also has a few tattoos on his arms. 11. WHAT ARE HIS CHIEF TENSION CENTERS? —-In his hands and shoulders. 12. WHAT IS THE CHARACTER’S WARDROBE LIKE? CASUAL, DRESSY, UTILITARIAN? BRIGHT COLORS, PASTELS, NEUTRALS? IS IT VARIED, OR DOES HE HAVE SIX OF THE SAME SUIT? —-Leather boots; always some form of darker jeans with a plain t-shirt; t-shirt is usually a lighter color but he does wear greys and even blacks from time to time. Over top of it, his well known and weathered leather jacket. Rarely, if ever, deviates from this style. 13. DO HIS CLOTHES FIT WELL? DOES HE SEEM COMFORTABLE IN THEM? —-His clothes fit well enough, though not entirely form fitting; a little loose without losing his shape in them. 14. DOES HE DRESS THE SAME ON THE JOB AS HE DOES IN HIS FREE TIME? IF NOT, WHAT ARE THE DIFFERENCES? —-Incredibly rare to ever see him without his leather jacket, but can be known to go without his jacket for short bits of time. 15. YOU KNEW IT WAS COMING: BOXERS, BRIEFS OR COMMANDO? —-Boxer shorts.

SPEECH

1. WHAT DOES THIS CHARACTER’S VOICE SOUND LIKE? HIGH-PITCHED, DEEP, HOARSE? —-Deep and bassy and hoarse. 2. HOW DOES HE NORMALLY SPEAK? LOUD, SOFT, FAST, EVENLY? DOES HE TALK EASILY, OR DOES HE HESITATE? —-Depends upon who he’s addressing, but usually he takes his time speaking and speaks through a hoarse and quiet tone. Words come to Negan very easily and he never hesitates or stutters on anything he says. 3. DOES THE CHARACTER HAVE A DISTINCT ACCENT OR DIALECT? ANY INDIVIDUAL QUIRKS OF PRONUNCIATION? ANY, LIKE, YOU KNOW, VERBAL TICS? —-Negan’s accent is vaguely southern and he doesn’t tend to have any kind of verbal tiks or quirks (other than cursing a lot). 4. WHAT LANGUAGE/S DOES HE SPEAK, AND WITH HOW MUCH FLUENCY? —-Really only knows English but has probably picked up a little on Spanish from school, but nothing substantial in the least. 5. DOES HE SWITCH LANGUAGES OR DIALECTS IN CERTAIN SITUATIONS? —-Nope, sticks to what he knows. 6. IS HE A GOOD IMPROMPTU SPEAKER, OR DOES HE HAVE TO THINK ABOUT HIS WORDS? —-VERY good at being well spoken on the spot and seems to always know exactly the thing to say in any situation right away. 7. IS HE ELOQUENT OR INARTICULATE? UNDER WHAT CIRCUMSTANCES MIGHT THIS CHANGE? —-He’s eloquent in his own vile sort of cursing way. Even in dangerous, life threatening situations, he retains his eloquent and well spoken nature.

MENTAL AND EMOTIONAL

1. HOW INTELLIGENT IS THIS CHARACTER? IS HE BOOK-SMART OR STREET-SMART? —-Negan is blessed to have both book and street smarts. Both are exactly what brought him to being a strong leader and keeps him on top. 2. DOES HE THINK ON HIS FEET, OR DOES HE NEED TIME TO DELIBERATE? —-Is very capable of doing both, but he tends to succeed more when he has time to deliberate and form a plan that he can enact in a coordinated way. 3. DESCRIBE THE CHARACTER’S THOUGHT PROCESS. IS HE MORE LOGICAL, OR MORE INTUITIVE? IDEALISTIC OR PRACTICAL? —-Negan meets all these criteria as it largely depends upon the situation. He’s a very adaptable thinker, taking in all the angles he sees for consideration and going from there. However, he tends to go for a more practical approach with a mix of logic and intuition (though it is HIS logic and intuition he relies on, which can be seen as backwards and cruel). 4. WHAT KIND OF EDUCATION HAS THE CHARACTER HAD? —-A bachelors degree in physical education. 5. WHAT ARE HIS AREAS OF EXPERTISE? WHAT, IF ANYTHING, IS HE INTERESTED IN LEARNING MORE ABOUT? —-Due to his extensive schooling in physical education, he knows how to train bodies to be physically fit, knows the endurance of the human body, and everything in between. He also thinks certain scientific things are pretty interesting, though doesn’t have the time nor enough interest to pursue learning more about these things. 6. IS HE AN INTROVERT OR AN EXTROVERT? —-Very, VERY big extrovert. 7. DESCRIBE THE CHARACTER’S TEMPERAMENT. IS HE EVEN-TEMPERED OR DOES HE HAVE MOOD SWINGS? CHEERFUL OR MELANCHOLY? LAID-BACK OR DRIVEN? —-Generally, Negan tends to be even-tempered, having a level head that keeps him calm. However, he can be prone to certain outbursts of anger when he’s pushed too far and can act out verbally and physically. Even through these bursts of anger, he’s able to pull himself back and reassert his collected demeanor. Most times his anger is quiet and holds a sense of forebode. 8. HOW DOES HE RESPOND TO NEW PEOPLE OR SITUATIONS? IS HE SUSPICIOUS, RELAXED, TIMID, ENTHUSIASTIC? —-When it comes to new people and new things, he’s pretty eager to jump at the chance to learn about the place/people/thing. He also appears wholly comfortable in any new situation. 9. IS HE MORE LIKELY TO ACT, OR TO REACT? —-Definitely act but that won’t stop him from reacting (and quite boldly at that). 10. WHICH IS HIS DEFAULT: FIGHT OR FLIGHT? —-Fight but if there is an option to run away from a situation that looks grim, he will absolutely do so to save his own hide. 11. DESCRIBE THE CHARACTER’S SENSE OF HUMOR. DOES HE APPRECIATE JOKES? PUNS? GALLOWS HUMOR? BATHROOM HUMOR? PRANKS? —-Negan loves, loves, LOVES making terrible jokes, usually at the expense of others. In fact, he finds they’re better if they are at the expense of others, if only to get them to lighten up or to even unnerve them with his sense of humor. Which his humor tends to be grim and poking at harsh truths around him. 12. DOES THE CHARACTER HAVE ANY DIAGNOSABLE MENTAL DISORDERS? IF YES, HOW DOES HE DEAL WITH THEM? —-Negan has a lot of behaviors of having an antisocial personality disorder and comes close to checking off a lot of symptoms of being psychopathic, but not completely for both. Clearly has some repressed emotions and unaddressed grief regarding his late wife Lucille, whom he couldn’t put down and holds a lot of guilt over. From that, he probably still has some lingering PTSD and is projecting some of that onto his bat, Lucille, by having the weapon somehow fill that void of his wife. 13. WHAT MOMENTS IN THIS CHARACTER’S LIFE HAVE DEFINED HIM AS A PERSON? —-Losing his parents, being diagnosed as infertile, losing his wife Lucille to cancer, and rising through the ranks to become the leader of the Saviors. 14. WHAT DOES HE FEAR? —-Loneliness. Being completely and utterly alone with no one. 15. WHAT ARE HIS HOPES OR ASPIRATIONS? —-To lead his people into a prosperous future where he’ll continue to lead them, protecting and providing for his people, and aspiring to rebuild civilization with his own set of rules and ideals. 16. WHAT IS SOMETHING HE DOESN’T WANT ANYONE TO FIND OUT ABOUT HIM? —-That he does fear being entirely alone and that he worries about losing control. Also that, without his bat Lucille, he feels incomplete.

RELATIONSHIPS

1. DESCRIBE THIS CHARACTER’S RELATIONSHIP WITH HIS PARENTS. —-His relationship with his mother was a good and loving one, whereas his father was slightly abusive and neglectful. Both are deceased, however. 2. DOES THE CHARACTER HAVE ANY SIBLINGS? WHAT IS/WAS THEIR RELATIONSHIP LIKE? —-No siblings, he was an only child. 3. ARE THERE OTHER BLOOD RELATIVES TO WHOM HE IS CLOSE? ARE THERE ONES HE CAN’T STAND? —-None that he was close to as he grew up with a slightly estranged uncle after his parents died. 4. ARE THERE OTHER, UNRELATED PEOPLE WHOM HE CONSIDERS PART OF HIS FAMILY? WHAT ARE HIS RELATIONSHIPS WITH THEM? —-None at this point. 5. WHO IS/WAS THE CHARACTER’S BEST FRIEND? HOW DID THEY MEET? —-His best friend was Lucille, growing incredibly close to her even before they married. However, nowadays, he doesn’t consider anyone a true best friend. Those around him he trusts he simply sees as those working for him, though he would tease them about being his best friend in jest. 7. DOES HE MAKE FRIENDS EASILY, OR DOES HE HAVE TROUBLE GETTING ALONG WITH PEOPLE? —-He can be a very agreeable man with people, really preferring things to be fair, though his habit of making sure others know he’s on top can bring tension into the equation. 8. WHICH DOES HE CONSIDER MORE IMPORTANT: FAMILY OR FRIENDS? —-Neither, really, as he doesn’t exactly see himself as truly having either. 9. IS THE CHARACTER SINGLE, MARRIED, DIVORCED, WIDOWED? HAS HE BEEN MARRIED MORE THAN ONCE? —-Legitimately widowed and only truly married once. Currently has about 7 “wives”. 10. IS HE CURRENTLY IN A ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIP WITH SOMEONE OTHER THAN A SPOUSE? —-The relationship with his “wives” tends to be more physical than romantic and he hasn’t been romantic with anyone since he lost his wife, Lucille. 11. WHO WAS HIS FIRST CRUSH? WHO IS HIS LATEST? —-His first crush was on a classmate when he was in elementary school. His latest is @twiicetheheart (though it’s more of an infatuation than a crush). 12. WHAT DOES HE LOOK FOR IN A ROMANTIC PARTNER? —-It would take a lot of trust and understanding and moving past all the layers he’s emotionally built up around himself to get to the point he’d be looking for any kind of romantic partner. He has a lot of baggage and uncertainty when it comes to opening himself up like that. 13. DOES THE CHARACTER HAVE CHILDREN? GRANDCHILDREN? IF YES, HOW DOES HE RELATE TO THEM? IF NO, DOES HE WANT ANY? —-He’s wanted children for as long as he can remember but the news of his infertility began to drive him away from Lucille and drove a rift between their marriage. Because of his infertility, he has no children though he wishes he had them. 14. DOES HE HAVE ANY RIVALS OR ENEMIES? —-Oh yes. Yes he does. 15. WHAT IS THE CHARACTER’S SEXUAL ORIENTATION? WHERE DOES HE FALL ON THE KINSEY SCALE? —-Negan considers himself bisexual with a heavy preference for women. On the Kinsey Scale, he falls under “heterosexual, more than incidental homosexual tendencies. 16. HOW DOES HE FEEL ABOUT SEX? HOW IMPORTANT IS IT TO HIM? —-He really, really enjoys sex and finds it a good release for his tensions but is only into it if his partner wants it as well. 17. WHAT ARE HIS TURN-ONS? TURN-OFFS? WEIRD BEDROOM HABITS? —-He loves being in control in the bedroom, though he can find when a partner is a little more controlling/feisty, that gets him going as well. Hates the feeling of condoms so very rarely, if ever, uses them.

BELIEFS

1. DO YOU KNOW YOUR CHARACTER’S ASTROLOGICAL (ZODIAC OF CHOICE) SIGN? HOW WELL DOES HE FIT TYPE? —-Negan is an Aries and fits the type very well. 2. IS THIS CHARACTER RELIGIOUS, SPIRITUAL, BOTH, OR NEITHER? HOW IMPORTANT ARE THESE ELEMENTS IN HIS LIFE? —-He was vaguely raised Christian, but finds that he’s more an atheist. He believes more in the material world than anything else. 3. DOES THIS CHARACTER HAVE A PERSONAL CODE OF MORALS OR ETHICS? IF SO, HOW DID THAT BEGIN? WHAT WOULD IT TAKE TO COMPROMISE IT? —-Negan believes that the strong should lead and always look after and protect those weaker than them, though some of his behaviors are contradictory to this ideal he holds. He is also vehemently against rape, believing it to be a very savage act and warranting immediate death. He’s always held these beliefs, even before the world began to fall, but those beliefs came out much stronger than before once societal rules were no longer in place. 4. HOW DOES HE REGARD BELIEFS THAT DIFFER FROM HIS? IS HE TOLERANT, INTOLERANT, CURIOUS, INDIFFERENT? —-There’s a strange sort of curiosity in those that have different beliefs than him, almost like he tries to understand why they believe the way they do, but when it comes down to his hard and clear cut rules, he is wholly intolerant of them. For example, if someone follows a specific religion, he’s surprisingly tolerant and genuinely curious. But if someone believes blatant and senseless murder is fine, he is entirely and vehemently intolerant. 5. WHAT PREJUDICES DOES HE HOLD? ARE THEY IRRATIONAL OR DOES HE HAVE A GOOD REASON FOR THEM? —-Only prejudices he holds are those against people who have wrong him in ways he perceives to be wrong.

DAILY LIFE

1. WHAT IS THE CHARACTER’S FINANCIAL SITUATION? IS HE RICH, POOR, COMFORTABLE, IN DEBT? —-Being the leader of the Saviors, he has barely any need or want for anything as he can get whatever he’d like in a moment’s notice.

2. WHAT IS HIS SOCIAL STATUS? HAS THIS CHANGED OVER TIME, AND IF SO, HOW HAS THE CHANGE AFFECTED HIM? —-Again, he is at the top of the social ladder, his whims and desires being what guides him.

3. WHERE DOES HE LIVE? HOUSE, APARTMENT, TRAILER? IS HIS HOME HIS CASTLE OR JUST A PLACE TO CRASH? WHAT CONDITION IS IT IN? DOES HE SHARE IT WITH OTHERS? —-Lives in a cozy, nicely furnished, and comfortable room within an old, abandoned warehouse called the Sanctuary.

4. BESIDES THE BASIC NECESSITIES, WHAT DOES HE SPEND HIS MONEY ON? —-Negan has no need for money but has an abundance of supplies that he uses for himself, first and foremost, but also allows a lot of it to go to his people.

5. WHAT DOES HE DO FOR A LIVING? IS HE GOOD AT IT? DOES HE ENJOY IT, OR WOULD HE RATHER BE DOING SOMETHING ELSE? —-He loves leading his people and being in charge, being able to tell people what is or isn’t okay or allowed and wouldn’t have it any other way.

6. WHAT ARE HIS INTERESTS OR HOBBIES? HOW DOES HE SPEND HIS FREE TIME? —-Negan actually really enjoys reading to pass his downtime or spending some time with his wives.

7. WHAT ARE HIS EATING HABITS? DOES HE SKIP MEALS, EAT OUT, DRINK ALCOHOL, AVOID CERTAIN FOODS? —-He eats at least a couple meals a day, only the best foods out of which has been grown/found. He likes casually drinking alcohol, though tends to avoid growing drunk off of the substance as it reminds him of his father too much.

ASSOCIATIONS

WHICH OF THE FOLLOWING DO YOU ASSOCIATE WITH THE CHARACTER, OR WHICH IS HIS FAVORITE:

1. COLOR? —-Red. 2. SMELL? —-Leather/cologne musk 3. TIME OF DAY? —-Night. 4. SEASON? —-Fall. 5. BOOK? —-Lord of the Flies. 6. MUSIC? —-80′s rock/alternative. 7. PLACE? —-The Sanctuary. 8. SUBSTANCE? —-Whiskey. 9. ANIMAL? —-Panther.

(x)

#♚ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴏғ ғᴜᴄᴋɪɴɢ ғᴜᴄᴋs [ ooc. ]#♚ ᴛʜᴀᴛ's ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ��ᴀʏ ɪ ʀᴏʟʟ [ headcanon. ]#♚ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ sᴄᴀʀᴇ ᴇᴀsʏ. ɪ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ! [ about. ]#( this certainly took...... )#( a while )#( hope this is what you were looking for anon lol )#( also feel free to just )#( ask for headcanons )#( because hell i love doing specific headcanons )

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moralhymn · 6 years ago

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you know, i was thinking on this before i went to sleep earlier today, like lying down on the bed with my head on the pillow about seven and a half hours ago earlier ( listen leave me and my fucked up sleep patterns alone we’re doing just fine thank you very much. ) and one thing that i genuinely wish hadn’t been changed for the english localization was ardyn’s declaration that he’s absolutely jealous of noctis where ignis and his loyalty are concerned.

from two separate translations, i give you this:

Surrounded by excellent retainers, makes me so jealous.

To be surrounded by excellent retainers – I’m jealous.

they are indeed two separate ones, i assure you, but what truly strikes me about this line is that ardyn’s ragingly envious of noctis for the loyalty he has from his friends. especially of the loyalty that he has from ignis. hell, ardyn actually makes an offer to ignis to go with him ( which is something i always swoop right to, not because i view the alternate ending to episode ignis as canon but because it’s absolutely fascinating to me that ardyn would do that, period. ) in altissia.

true enough, ignis does it out of a desire to protect noctis and likely out of a means to see if he could indeed get something out of ardyn, but the fact that ardyn made the offer to ignis in the first place makes me go ‘hmmm’ quite often. like, i mean yeah i kind of look at it from a shipping viewpoint ( talk to me for five minutes and find out how much i live and breathe ardnis, no joke.) but it’s even more pointed than that. it goes beyond mere desire on ardyn’s part.

he genuinely comes off as wanting ignis for himself. not in that fashion ( but yes also that fashion. ), but because of the loyalty that ignis exudes.

the loyalty to his prince.

i think ardyn sees that and it’s something that both agitates and frustrates him because he never had that same loyalty from anyone in his mortal life. until episode ardyn comes out ( and possibly even afterwards. ), i still find myself struck with the idea that ardyn was slowly abandoned by the people he held most dear in his life. the people he expected to be loyal to him. in the end, he was left with nothing and no one. not even his shield. and those that were loyal to him were either imprisoned, or far more likely, killed. and i just have a lot of thoughts about this.

and i mean, there is likely some genuine satisfaction for ardyn in the idea of subverting ignis to some degree. of impacting him in such a way that his loyalty could be called into question. after all, why should noctis have what he never did? ardyn’s such a multi-layered character that even in the midst of writing something like this, i get to pause and then side-eye him and then have a moment of “oh, so THAT is what you meant by this action or that one.” and it’s just. he’s just so interesting.

but anyways, it’s not a huge surprise that ardyn would be jealous of noctis. that’d he’d be jealous of him for having the loyalty of his friends. and i just really need to sit and analyze his thought processes and emotions that were taking place during that time with ignis in altissia and contrast them to his behavior in the alternative ending, along with his lines.

why would ardyn ever take such pains with ignis as well? it’d be easier to twist prompto or gladio to what he wants done. ( well, i mean, ignis has the best ass out of all of them so that might have something to do with it. ) jokes aside, though, he could have shattered the plans of the gods in so many other ways. but vengeance and spite are powerful motivating factors for people. they truly, deeply are. and i just don’t know where i’m going with this but the fact remains that ignis is the one person that ardyn seems most bent upon having for his own, and i just need to figure out why that is some days.

anyways, yeah.

#headcanon tag;#shoving this under there because hm a few things in there #are sort of headcanon-y

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jokertrap-ran · 6 years ago

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BAD MEDICINE ~Infectious teachers~ [PC GAME] Nagihara Taiki (Mathematics) Route Translations (Part 8)

MC’s name is retained as the original MC name Kawana Hina.

* Words within ‘ ‘ are spoken in English – *Spoiler free : Translations under cut!

Prologue / Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5/ Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10 / Part 11

Hina: (The latest high-end computers! As expected of this school to have such resources already prepared and on hand…Not to add that they all look brand new…)

Hina: (Let’s see…The topic I have to research on this time consists of famous people who’ve graduated from this school and..)

Hina: …Hm…?

Hina: (Isn’t this person on the network news Nagihara-sensei’s father? I see, so he IS a famous person after all…)

Hina: (He won his first Sunset Award as a mathematician?)

Hina: (Oh! They also attached a link to his profile information!)

Hina: (What should I do? I’m curious but I don’t want to pry any further that necessary.)

Hina: (But it’s not like I’m prohibited from reading through it since it’s been publicized to the world…)

Hina: Here goes nothing then…

Hina: (Whoa, what a huge wall of text! I guess I’ll start reading from the first page?)

Hina: (Nagihara Taizo…He graduated from a prestigious university, acquired his degree overseas,)

Hina: (Carried out theoretical mathematical research in several laboratories to date and the papers he published has caught the international limelight.)

Hina: (After returning back to his home country, he got appointed as a university professor and has multiple concurrent posts of being the director of several research facilities.)

Hina: (He has also written many papers about education in general…)

Hina: (Wow, that’s some amazing personal history he has under his wing. I didn’t think that such people actually existed till now. He’s just like a character you’ll find in a story…Wait, what’s this…?)

Hina: (Although he had fathered two sons in the midst of his smooth sailing life as a mathematician, His eldest son had died much too young before his prime.)

Hina: (He had received a very big shock and this was what he said during the interview,)

Hina: (--My son, he was a genius and had true talent for mathematics. It would not be an exaggeration to say that he could surpass me if only time allowed him so…)

Hina: (The death of my son doesn’t just affect the field of mathematics but is also a loss for mankind’s evolution.)

Hina:

(I must continue to make amends to the world for the loss that it has suffered as long as I remain walking this world.)

Hina: (And I suppose this duty of mine will also be passed down to my youngest son in time…)

Hina: (His first son has passed away but his youngest still survives…Then, does that mean that Nagihara-sensei is the youngest son…? )　

Hina: (I wonder if it’s written somewhere…? Maybe I should search further?)

Hina: …Is there really nothing written about that…?

???: You seem pretty absorbed in whatever you’re looking up.

Hina: Wha…!?

Hina: N-Nagihara-sensei…

Hina: (How long has he been standing behind me!? I didn’t notice his presence at all…!)

Nagihara: I came here with the intent of marking papers seeing as I do so every once in a while, but…

Nagihara: What are you doing?

Nagihara: You seem to be looking up on something of importance on the computer…

Hina: No! Uh- T-This is just…

Nagihara: Why are you hiding it? Is it something that would be bad if I found out about it?

Hina: No, not at all…!

Nagihara: If so then why don’t you move over and let me see the screen?

Hina: …Very well.

Nagihara: …………

Nagihara: …Oh. I see now. So that was why you were staring at me all so intently earlier?

Hina: (He noticed me staring at him…?)

Nagihara: Let’s go outside for a while. There’s something I’d like to talk to you about.

Hina: O-Okay…

Nagihara: Feel free to sit over there if you’d like.

Hina: Y-Yes…

Nagihara: The guy you were searching up on, Nagihara Taizo, is indeed my father.

Nagihara: I’m well-told that I resemble my father both by students and teachers alike.

Nagihara: Well, it’s not like I’m hiding it or anything. In fact, most people in this school would know about me and my father.

Nagihara: So, anything else you’d like to know?

Hina: Huh…?

Nagihara: Is there anything else you’d like me to tell you about? You were researching my father, weren’t you?

Nagihara: I’ll tell you everything within my knowledge. I garner that it’ll be way more efficient than looking it up on the net.

Hina: Er…Well, I was actually just wondering what kind of a person he was…and the like…

Nagihara: I see. So, did you come to find anything in the end?

Hina: He’s a very respected teacher in his own right…And I also heard rumors about how he’s a genius mathematician on the television.

Hina: And also, I just happened to notice that he was the author of the reference book I borrowed from the library…And…

Nagihara: ………… And what?

Hina: Huh…? U-Uh…Um…

Nagihara: Is that all? What were you going to do with all that information in the first place?

Nagihara: Would it benefit you in any way by researching up on Nagihara Taizo for that matter?

Nagihara: …Ahh, sorry. I spoke too much.

Nagihara: It was probably just your sheer curiosity about the matter in play and you didn’t mean anything more than that.

Nagihara: Although, it would have been better if you had just asked me about it in person…

Hina: B-But…

Hina: (It doesn’t seem like an approachable topic one can ask about on a whim. Even right now…)

Nagihara: Is something wrong?

Hina: (He’s being kind of scary.)

Hina: (He’s speaking the same way as he always does, just a little curter but somehow or rather…he’s terrifying.)

Nagihara: Whatever that was written on the page was true. My father, Nagihara Taizo, is a absolutely talented mathematician and is still one of the leading forces on the front lines of the mathematics world now.

Nagihara: I have utmost respect for my father in regards to mathematics.

Nagihara: And my older brother… As it so happens, I lost him back when I was young.

Hina: (Just like I thought, the one who died was none other than Nagihara-sensei’s brother…)

Nagihara: That’s all. That’s why there’s no longer any need for you to read up further about the matter.

Hina: I’m terribly sorry…

Nagihara: Why are you apologizing?

Hina: It’s almost as if I’m prying into your private matters so I’m apologize because I don’t think I should be doing that.

Nagihara: ………………

Nagihara: Let’s close the conversation here then.

Nagihara: Dismissal time has already long passed. Please head home.

Hina: Sensei, um…

Nagihara: I’m going to have to leave this room before you if you’re not going to head home. I still have to warn the others that are still within the school compounds.

Hina: …Alright, I understand.

Hina: Please excuse me.

Nagihara: Goodbye. Do be careful as it’s already dark outside.

Hina: (He didn’t raise his voice or anything but it was almost as if I was talking to a different person…A rather terrifying one.)

Hina: (I probably stepped onto his tail when I started prying into matters that I shouldn’t be concerning myself with…)

Hina: (Haa…I really don’t understand this formula here either…)

Hina: (What should I do…? I have to hand this in by the next lesson but I’ve not managed to solve even a single question since I started…)

Hina: (It would be for the best if I asked Nagihara-sensei about it… I know that…But it’s hard to approach him now given what has transpired between us…)

Hina: (I’m the one at fault to begin with. I shouldn’t have snooped around his private matters like that.)

Hina: (He seemed like he was in a really bad mood when we were talking though. Could it be that he doesn’t get along well with his father?)

Hina: (But he did say that he really respected him…)

Hina: (mmmm…I should stop thinking about it. I don’t want to make Nagihara-sensei think of me any worse than he already has.)

Hina: (I’ll just keep the pen he handed to me as a good-luck charm and continue working hard!)

Hina: (I’ll study my hardest and then, little by little…I’ll work my way to solving it!)

Hina: (I’ll do it to the best of my abilities. He’ll smile as he talks about mathematics again if I do that, won’t he?

Hina: What should I do?

Choice A: Head to the hallway. Choice B: Go to the infirmary.

#Bad Medicine Infectious Teachers #Bad Medicine Infectious Teachers Game #Otome #Rejet #Translations #Nagihara Taiki #Kashu Remu #Tojo Kairi #Yanagi Ryota #Shido Kaname #Kuzuha Kakeru

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jflashandclash · 6 years ago

Text

Uncomfortable Crossings

Author’s Note:

I had a request over half a year ago for Calex to interact with a certain goddess. It is shameful that it took me so long to write this! I hope you enjoy despite the wait!

This takes place a year after the series’ last book, Fall of the Sun. This is based off the original ending, which has—since then—mostly changed. Mostly XD So… sort of spoilers?

Book IV’s chapter one (Will: A Stroll Through the Dark) should be released in the next week or two!) In the meantime, I hope you enjoy this short story about Calex :D

Each time Calex kicked, the football slammed directly into the goal post.

Fortunately, there was no one occupying the field to see it. That’s why he preferred the field behind the Roman hypocaust. There was a car park for tourists on holiday and for the few museum staff with cars. But most locals preferred the scenic view by the lake or the fields by the ruins of the wall around the ancient Roman city of Verulamium. The hypocaust could seem a bit dull compared to the lovely sprawl around the rest of the park.

Most of the emptiness was due to the weather. The temperature reached a record high of 31 degrees with 100% humidity. For most of Calex’s mates, this was enough to turn them into jelly puddles inside their flats, but Calex used to holiday in Liberia and had spent the last year in New York. Normally, he’d drag them out, whining and acting like babies, but he wanted to be alone today.

That’s why he was utterly shocked when his ball bounced off the goal post, popped over his shoulder, then shot straight back towards the goal from behind him.

And missed wildly.

Calex watched his ball fly into the field at least fifty meters away. Calex blinked, wondering if a professional footballer had been airlifted into the field without him hearing the helicopter and if that professional was bolluxed out of their mind.

“Oh! Sorry! Here, use my ball while I go grab that,” someone said behind him.

“Um, it’s alright—” Calex turned to see the blur go past. He doubted the girl was as fast as he was, but she was certainly fast. As she darted after the ball, he saw her beautiful locks trail behind her. Something felt off about her gait—like her steps took too long to land on the ground.

Odd, but, after learning he was a demigod, his life had been nothing but odd.

She wore a blue and white jersey, one he should recognize. The name across the back said Karagounis in what Calex quickly recognized as Greek.

He jogged after.

Calex was in no mood to be polite or have a chat. At least she wasn’t attracted to him. The knowledge wasn’t anything self-degrading—Calex knew lots of girls fancied his looks. He was a son of Eros and knowing people’s desires came with the territory.

When she reached the ball and turned to dribble back—long dribbles with little control—Calex felt himself gasp and stagger to a stop, feeling both shallow and self-centered about the previous thought.

The woman was lovelier than anyone he had ever seen. That was a grand thing, considering his grandmother was Aphrodite and he stayed with her children, his aunts and uncles, last year. He knew lovely.

She was maybe ten years older than him, in her mid-twenties, but the age made her more brilliant, like she’d suffered and aged but managed to retain her youth and merriment.

Her hair was long and waved loosely from a mix of plaits in her ponytail. The color was indescribable. At first, he thought it was like his mate, Kally, a strawberry blonde. This was darker, a subtlest cross between red, blonde, brunette, with natural highlights and lowlights from all three. Her skin had a gorgeous glow to it, not quite UK pale, but pale with a hue that cued Calex to her ability to tan.

Her face was perfect.

He didn’t think that with any exaggeration. It was perfect.

If Calex was at Camp Half-Blood, or by Mt. Olympus, he would have dropped right there to genuflect to a goddess. However, in the middle of St. Albans on a Tuesday, she might think it a bit odd or mental if he gave her the “all powerful” treatment in a football field, especially if she was just some poor women off the street who happened to practice beside a crazy demigod.

“Sorry. It has been a long time since I played soccer,” she said as she evened with him. Her English was perfect with the slightest hint of a Greek accent.

“Not a problem,” Calex said.

She smiled in relief.

He recognized that glint of relief and knew it was good he hadn’t dropped into an old fashioned grovel.

There were times he had felt insecure when he entered a room, knowing everyone’s eyes were on him, and expecting him to be perfect because his father’s DNA made him look like he should be. Most of his mates in Britain could make jokes out of it, but, in America, he was uncomfortable when someone asked if he’d been in a magazine or some obscure BBC show, or when someone would point out, “Oh… you’re African American—”

“British, actually”

“—well, yea, but you’re black and you have light eyes.”

Something about her look told him she felt something similar, a sense of humiliation due to the inability to avoid unwanted attention.[1]

Calex swore, regardless of whether or not this woman was a goddess, that he’d treat her like a normal mortal.

“That was an alright kick, Greece,” he said, “You’re sure to nail the net next time.”

Her eyes were amber with flecks of blue and green. They were vibrant, like the rest of her. “I don’t mind failing…” She glanced at the jersey his cousin had bought for him. “Arsenal. Failing is half the reward of trying. How fulfilling would life be if you attained things instantly?”

Calex thought about how he had failed to save his mum and brother from Thanatos, how Joey had died, and what had happened to Axel, Pax, and Euna after everything they’d gone through. “Reward” was an odd little word for it. His fist shook. He remembered the anger and dreariness that he’d come out here to ignore and that her beauty had temporarily disrupted.

This woman definitely couldn’t be from around here if she was that much of an optimist. One look at Israel and you wouldn’t hear their prime minister saying, “Oooo! Sorry about that. Let’s try that again!”

“Some things you can only fail once,” he said.

His ball thumped gently into his foot.

His head was light and ached. He felt like such rubbish that he didn’t want to look at her again.

“Pass the ball with me,” she said. “We’ll make a wager. If I lose, then I’ll concede that you’re right. If I win, then you’ll show me around St. Albans.”

Calex had too many wagers in his life already, particularly ones involving a lot of death or undeath situations. While, in technical terms, his friends from Camp Half-Blood would call him a “lucky son of a respectable man since we would never say anything to upset Calex’s papi,” he wasn’t sure he wanted to bet his luck any further.

“What’s the wager?” he asked.

“I need to get the ball from you,” she said.

Calex felt himself give a heartfelt laugh. “Not bloody likely.”

“Then you have nothing to lose,” she said. “You’re already practicing, foolishly suffering from dehydration, and determined to hit the goal post instead of the net. So you might be better off reminding someone who is rusty how it’s done.”

Calex wouldn’t admit it if asked, but he had fun. This woman—Greece as he’d taken to calling her—had a contagious laugh, had no problem giggling over her own mistakes and making him chuckle at his own, was curious about every aspect of the game, listened to him talk about Arsenal for longer than the Queen could sit at a ceremony, and would excitedly interject with stories of her own. It was like everything was an adventure to her, every experience was fun.

Calex felt like he’d lost that since he’d come back to Hertfordshire and left his friends in New York.

She’d chided him into drinking some water. Like her beauty, her vivacity had shaken him out of his angst. Something about her put him at ease and felt familiar, like the coolest aunt he’d forgotten from childhood. Enough so that, when he was dribbling to their stuff to get another sip of water, he didn’t register what she was doing when she jumped in front of him, forcing him to stop short or knock her over.

Calex stumbled to a stop.

She turned and gave him a huge grin. “I got the ball from you.”

“That doesn’t’ count,” he said.

“It does.” She crunched her face up playfully. The more they interacted and the more he treated her like a typical bloke off the trolley, the more she’d relaxed into this playful, excited demeanor. “It does because you want to show me around. Come along. I’ll treat you to lunch.”

They walked around the town. Calex showed her the stuff tourists usually hyped over: the Cathedral—at which she demanded they make a quick sacrifice to honor the cathedral’s god, something Calex found profoundly baffling[2]—the rest of the park, the clock tower, and some of the nurseries. He was relieved she didn’t ask to go into Verulamium’s museum, the place he felt like he knew better than his own home and whose staff he wanted to punch at that moment.

After winding through the streets full of people exhausted from the heat, they ended up in Café Rouge, a posh French restaurant that Tiwa had liked. When he stepped in, looking at the checkered red-and-clear stained windows, his stomach dropped.

When his mum was exhausted after a shift at the hospital, he remembered her coming here, sitting in the corner booth with the red velvet cloth, and ordering a tea and a chicken club croque. During summer holiday, when they weren’t at her clinic in Kakata, he would come here to meet up with her, Tom, Gretchen, and Winston when he could.

The glass paneled roof made this place look and feel like a botanical garden, too hot, too humid, and on display for the gods to watch.

Calex wished he hadn’t come here.

Their usual waitress, Amelia, immediately recognized him and gave him a shy smile. He hadn’t seen her in almost a year.

Although Calex had led them here without thinking, he turned to leave with a cough and a wave of parting.

“There’s a good table in the center,” Greece suggested. She took Calex’s arm, like he was the one escorting her, and led him over to the table. She gestured at one of the two-seaters that was in a line of empty two-seaters and Amelia nodded.

“Um—” Calex started.

She sat down and Amelia hopped over faster than he could whisper, “I’ve been abducted by a beautiful woman, help!”

“What would you like to drink?” Amelia asked.

“Surprise me,” Greece said. She clasped her hands together, smiling at the tiny brunette. “And I mean it. Any price, any style, form mocktails to fiz. If you want, flip a coin between you and the other waitress and bring me out the favorite drink of whoever gets heads.”

Amelia paused in writing something down to blink at Greece. Normally, he guessed Amelia would think Greece mental, but Calex assumed Amelia struggled with the same problem that he was: Greece’s contagious smile, her natural confidence, and startlingly genuine excitement that made him want to trust her. Normally, such cheer would make him think she was mad and here to rob him, the restaurant, the city, and likely the country of all of her goods. But, for some inexplicable reason, Greece’s demeanor kept putting him at ease and made him feel like this was the right time and place for all things to exist.

“The usual for you then?” Amelia asked Calex.

He nodded and smiled. “Thanks, Amelia.”

She blushed. “It’s good to have you back,” she said. For a split second, Calex realized she’d thought about him without his trousers on.

He cleared his throat, something he hoped she mistook for embarrassment at the comment.

Amelia walked away.

Greece watched their interaction with amusement. “So, is it romantic love or familial that’s the problem?” she asked, leaning forward a little.

Calex must have heard her wrong. “Excuse me?”

“Something has been bothering you all day,” she said.

They went silent for a moment when Amelia brought them their drinks and took their orders.

“Same? Surprise and usual?” Amelia asked, pointing her pen to each of them in turn.

Both nodded.

Calex tried to ignore that Amelia was systematically undressing him in her mind. Some days, he could ignore things like that. Today, he was struggling not to “listen in” on other people’s wants.

She walked away and Calex tucked his scarf against his neck.

“You’re quite presumptuous, aren’t you?” he asked while he sipped his tomato juice. He didn’t like the drink anymore and would have rather a Hoegaarden, but he hadn’t the heart to change things up on Amelia or find out what article of clothing would come off next time in her mind cinema. He would order it when she brought the food and would hope that each of his socks counted as separate pieces of clothing in her game.

“You’re seventeen.” Greece shrugged.

Calex frowned. He had to wonder if she knew it was his birthday or if she’d gotten a lucky guess on his age. Her question made his mind wander to what had upset him that morning.

She shrugged. “And, it’s summer break, so you’re not worried about revision for A levels or entering sixth form.”

Calex examined her wearily. Out of his new friends, only Axel and—dare he call him a friend?—Pax had known anything about his school system. Apparently the structure was similar in Belize. But was it in Greece? Was she actually from Greece?

“Who am I going to tell?” she asked, mistaking the source of his growing suspicion.

Typically, an innate sense of trust made him want to distrust people more, like they were looking to gain something. He felt a part of his heart give though. This woman gave him such an irrational sense of livelihood, of wanting to experience the world, and chat about the things he loved and scream about the things he hated, it made him lightheaded. And, had she not come by that morning, he’d have likely finished at the fields, and then locked himself in his room all day.

“There is a girl,” he found himself saying.

Greece gave him a lovely smile. “What is she like?”

“She’s…” He thought about the times Merry had publically humiliated him. “Merciless. Yea, merciless. That one is.”

Greece laughed, a fantastic sound. “And here I was, expecting ‘beautiful’ or ‘intelligent.’”

“Oh, she is. Quite good at making me laugh too.” He marveled over how well Merry could store information in her head and use it to outwit others—whether monsters or crude blokes—and, how she could make guesses about future events in Camp Half-Blood, mostly involving people’s dating lives. He pictured Merry’s dark eyes contrasted with her honey skin and the curves of her body. She looked like a Victoria Secret model with a hardy appetite, and Calex wouldn’t change a single thing about her brain or her physique. Well… except…

“She’s quite alright,” he said.

“And..?” Greece asked.

Calex sighed. He lifted up his drink and set it on the table. What he would change…

“She isn’t attracted to me. At all. She isn’t attracted to anyone.”

He waited for Greece to say he couldn’t know that, a completely reasonable response for someone who didn’t know he was a son of Eros and that he could tell when shy waitresses had him on their mental tele with much less clothing, much more interest in public displays of affection, and much less respect for restaurant sanitation. Instead, Greece frowned thoughtfully, waiting for him to continue.

“I’m not sure she’ll ever find any bloke physically attractive.” Calex remembered all the times she’d make flirtatious comments about people’s bodies, like empty reverberations of gossip she’d heard. She never felt it. She would just say it to make people laugh or to contribute to a conversation. And, Calex feared, to feel normal.

This is where he should stop, but the words slipped out. “She said she loves me.” He remembered how she had snuggled into his chest, calling him her sweet, sexy teddy bear. But, he couldn’t read emotional love. That was Piper’s, his aunt’s, territory. Merry’s confession had taken him by dumbfounded surprise, since those words were typically preluded by some sort of physical attraction.

“That made it worse. I want… I want an all-inclusive relationship. It wouldn’t need to be immediate. I would wait however long she wanted and we could talk through everything. But that’s assuming Merry would ever want that. What if she never wants it? Nothing says she needs to nor should she ever feel pressured if it’s not something she’s interested in…”

There was no better way for him to explain it. He knew, physically, how to properly take care of everyone he got close to. That’s why people would come to him for advice, like the time Axel had, shaking with embarrassment, asked about one of his dates with Reyna, and the time Kally had timidly asked some generic questions on how things worked when you’re copping off.[3]

Even if Calex didn’t want to know, the sense of what everyone wanted was in a neat queue, waiting for use by him or as advice for others. He knew what to do at any time to really get their engines roaring. But, he didn’t with Merry. It was a blank slate. Everyone else had a rolling instruction manual that he could access in a split second. But, he didn’t want them. He didn’t care about those instruction manuals. He wanted to show Merry how much he appreciated her in the way his godly heritage had given him the unquestionable advantage, but… he couldn’t. She was the only reason he could guess why other blokes were so nervous interacting sexually. Typically, he was full of the confidence of knowing. Not with Merry. Not when she didn’t want to get physically intimate with anyone and nothing he knew of could spike any sense of desire.

He didn’t know how to explain any of that without coming across as a total creep.

“I know that’s selfish,” he said instead. “It’s not that I wouldn’t mind waiting. If I knew, in a few years…” There was no acceptable way to end that line of dialogue with a stranger, or—really—with anyone.

“No…” Greece frowned and Calex was ready for a proper (and well earned with how much of a dodgy perv he sounded) feminist lashing. “Calex, that isn’t selfish.”

Calex blinked. “Yes, it is.”

She laughed. “No, it isn’t. That’s a compatibility conflict. And, for someone like you, that is a serious compatibility conflict. From the way you’re talking and the way you are, I know you’re not seeking your own sexual gratification. How many times would you pleasure Merry without getting any reciprocation and even noticing or caring that you hadn’t?”

“Hundreds, if not thousands,” he said reflexively.

When he realized that those were real words that came out of his mouth, he glanced around, to make sure Amelia hadn’t heard to use that for her mental tele. Calex took a long sip of tomato juice, desperately wishing he had Merry’s power to turn it into something a bit stronger. His mind sprinted through excuses as to why he would need to leave this table in a hurry, and wondered if this woman would believe him if he said he had an appointment to slog Boris Johnson in the face.[4]

Greece, however, acted like this question was a typical Tuesday question. “Probably the same number of times Merry would help you study for an exam without ever feeling like you owed her a favor.”

Calex felt like they’d just been chatting about a meat eater repeatedly offering a vegetarian an endless chicken supply, and that Greece had brought up the time the vegetarian offered the meat eater an endless supply of slinkies. Calex wasn’t sure if Greece just had a time lapse or if she was just stark raving mad.

She confused Calex enough to make him say, “But, I don’t care about revision for my exams.”

“That’s my point. You express your love differently, in different languages, and don’t have any common communication ground, beyond the enjoyment of each other’s presence.” She sipped her sparkling drink and grinned. “Ah! Fizz la Poire! What a nice combo.”

Calex wished it would be as simple as she’d suggested. “So, you’re telling me to pull a girl by studying with her? That’s the secret to the Merry Snog: a good math textbook.”

Merry, he realized, would fancy that official title quite a bit.

Greece shook her head. “You’re missing the point. The studying is the snog to her.”

“I’m not sure I follow you.”

Greece laughed lightly. “You’re just like your father.”

Calex almost choked on his next sip of the thick juice. “Excuse me?” His suspicion came back to hit him like a power kick from Alexis Sanchez.[5]

She shook her head in pleasant amusement. “You need to consider what is important to the two of you and where you can both compromise. Can you be in a relationship where you both feel unloved because you don’t understand each other’s methods of expressing love? You both might feel more fulfilled with someone who naturally expresses their affection in a way you appreciate and understand. Then you both won’t feel guilty for expecting something that isn’t there or holding the other back. The guilt you’re feeling about wanting to spend time with Merry in a particular way and knowing she wouldn’t want that—have you considered that she feels the same guilt for a different unfulfilled want?”

“I hardly think that’s an appropriate comparison,” Calex said. He mentally toured through the various times Merry had offered to study with him, help him with his homework, or look through summer job applications. Kally, Merry’s best friend, had explained that Merry was mental over keeping a 4.0. The queasiness in Calex’s stomach told him Greece was right. Merry showed her affection to her mum and brother, Nikhil, by helping them with school and work. Had he been a total idiot? But having someone study with you when they were bored of it and having them snog you when they were bored of it were two very different things.

Greece smiled. “It’s closer than you’re allowing yourself to think. You two might be better off with someone more compatible. Couples can make it work when they don’t express love the same way or click immediately. I wasn’t enthralled with my husband when we first met, but, in no time, I want to Tartarus and back again for him.”

She touched her shoulder, her eyes glassy with a memory. They warmed back to the present. “Times are different now. You can’t start your relationship by kidnapping your princess. Back to your modern scenario, you could sit there and study with her, despite not caring about the studying at all, and she could—”

“No,” Calex said firmly, checking goddess on his internal description of this woman. “She’s… she’s offered to try. But, I can’t even kiss her when I know she’s not interested in kissing. Even if her reaction is disinterest instead of dislike, what’s the point if she’s not enjoying herself?”

“And that, ‘What’s the point?’ is how she feels about any of the ways she wants to express her emotion. That’s why I was going to say, you could push through it, but I’m not sure it would be healthy for either of you right now. Maybe later, but not now. And I certainly don’t think either of you will be able to happily live life, enjoy it, and experience it, and potentially other people, if you leave the situation in limbo.”

Calex frowned. He thought about Merry’s smile when she knew she’d cornered someone with blackmail or the way she’d tease him by bumping against him on “accident.”

“That’s not the uplifting, encouraging speech I was expecting,” he admitted.

She shrugged. “I’m not going to encourage you to do something that will hold you back from expressing yourself the way you most enjoy. And I won’t say you should do something that will prevent you from living life in a way that’s important to you. If you’re anything like your father, you’ve quite an appetite, and it would make you miserable to suppress it.”

Calex sat there, stunned.

No one would ever say that about Winston.

Had she really—? There was no way. No one in their polite, right mind—

“Oh gods, you’re Psyche,” he said. He had to set his tomato juice down to balance himself against the table. “Oh gods. You just said that about my dad. Please don’t ever, ever, EVER refer to his appetite—or—or refer to you two—augh—shagging ever again.”

Psyche released a beautiful, heartfelt laugh. “For being a son of Eros, you’re incredibly uncomfortable with these discussions. Your sister, Hedone, is very forward about this type of thing.”

“I’m awkward and British!” Calex cried. “I’m not absolutely mental like you Greek gods!”

Maybe Calex shouldn’t have been mouthing off to a goddess, specifically not his step-mother, but this was a bit to take in.

“And—and why are you even here? Aren’t you supposed to think… rather unpleasantly of me?” All the stories he’d heard of gods meeting their step children didn’t end with fairies and sunshine and the god or goddess crying, “There’s my favorite proof of adultery!”

Her smile softened. “Calex, Eros and I have been together for thousands of years. Every couple hundred years, one of us will meet someone as remarkable as your mother. Then, we discuss it and have our agreements. It would be ridiculous for me to hate someone Eros loves so much, especially someone who has grown into an impressive young man. I’ve wanted to meet you, but this is the first birthday you really knew who you were.”

A sick taste hit his mouth. The hopelessness and dreariness of the morning threatened to overtake him again. A lot had changed since his last birthday.

“Your father is going to drop by later today,” she said. “He had to do a favor for your grandmother so she doesn’t notice the two of us here with you.”

Calex wasn’t worried about his father. Compared to other half-bloods, he saw his dad a lot. Over the last year, Eros had not been shy with gifts or advice.

That wasn’t what was unsettling Calex. “Did you know Tiwa?” he asked quietly.

Tiwa didn’t strike Calex as someone capable of being a mistress. He could imagine his mum marching up to Psyche as soon as she discovered Eros was married. And he certainly couldn’t think she would be like Mrs. Blythe, Merry’s mother who was… intimate with both Ariadne and Dionysus. Definitely filing that into Things He Never Wanted to Know.[6]

“I mostly knew of her,” Psyche said. She leaned back into her chair. The sunrays beaming through the glass ceiling hit her back; Calex’s eyes widened when he saw an array of color flowering around her chair and sweeping by her feet: wings. Butterfly wings. The Mist must have coated them before, but the brilliant colors shimmered like a stained glass frame for her hair. Like everything else about her, they were vibrant to the point of breathtaking. “We met over tea a few times. She was… fearless despite the fact that she knew I was a goddess. She wanted to make sure everyone knew exactly what was happening between the three of us. She didn’t trust Eros acting as a messenger.”

“She always liked to make sure things were done correctly,” Calex said.

Psyche laughed. “That’s a generous understatement.”

Staring at the colors of Psyche’s wings, he could picture his mum’s soft face, whether in a smile to appreciate a witty joke or a terrifying scowl to ridicule Calex for some act of stupidity. Calex swallowed. That horrible emptiness from this morning seeped into his system.

He told himself not to—that he didn’t want to talk about it. Still, the words came out of his mouth. “I used to resent going to mum’s clinic in Kakata every holiday. I often had to spend my birthday there, with Tom and Mum, while my mates were off in Playa Del Ingles, Saint-Tropez, or some other posh beach.”

Now, Calex wished he could be there. He wished he could have woken up this morning to his great granddad poking him and his brother with a walking cane while muttering a cryptic, Liberian aphorism. Then he and Tom, whining and complaining about the heat, would escort Mum to her clinic for a day of hard labor.

Now, when it came to his mum and brother, some days were better than others. He could sometimes laugh with Winston about something Tom used to do, or how hopeless they both were in the kitchen without Tiwa around. Other days, the house was quiet and cold without the buoyant conversation about Tiwa’s nightshift or Tom’s football match. Most of the time, Gretchen ran out with her mates, and Calex and Winston were working.

Today, Calex felt numb.

“Chiron said I could stay at Camp Half-Blood this summer, but Winston needs me here. He can barely afford the flat’s rent without Tiwa’s helping to pay. We might need to move. That’s one of the reasons I was so mad at Marie—the museum head—for forcing me to take the day off. I don’t care that it’s my birthday. They never cared about stuff like that before.”

He shrugged. “But… but this is my first birthday without my mum or brother. Gretchen won’t talk to me much. She hasn’t since… since I survived and the others didn’t.”

His little sister worried him and Winston, but he didn’t feel like there was much he could do. It felt like… felt like she blamed him for living, like it was his fault that their home had fallen apart.

Psyche didn’t say anything. She reached across the table and gently set a hand atop his. Over the last year, he’d become more accustomed to brash touching—Pax and Kally made sure to that. This was different. Something about her touch—she understood loss. Calex wondered how many lovers and children Psyche watched succumb to old age or sudden tragedy.

They sat in silence for a moment.

“Mum would scold me for dwelling on it so much. Tom would have hit me and told me I was being a twat. Especially on my birthday…” Calex laughed softly.

“Calex, you need to let yourself feel without getting mad about the feelings.” She squeezed his hand.

Calex glanced at her blue and white jersey, now shimmering into a sleeveless, short chiton, her glossy wings and hair, her sweet face and warm eyes. If she hadn’t met him at the football field, he would have kept to himself all day, with his phone off to ignore any contact with his mates. Gretchen would have stormed into the house without a word to him and Winston would have come home from work and collapsed in front of the tele without Tiwa to remind him of their birthdays.

Here, he was out of the flat, chatting with a goddess about his lunatic love prospects and his family. Insane, but much less bleak than he’d expected the day to go.

Calex didn’t know how to show his gratitude to Psyche.

The sadness in Psyche’s eyes made Calex squeeze her hand back. She raised her Fizz la Poir. “To living life in honor of those we miss,” she suggested.

He tilted his glass to hers. “I really need to get a different drink for toasting. I think Tom might be offended,” he said, taking a sip of his tomato juice.

They smiled.

The restaurant door opened and closed. Calex didn’t look over, but could hear some female giggles.

Now that he’d mentioned changing out his drink, Calex had to wonder where Amelia went. Normally, she was—

“There’s my favorite Teddy Bear.”

For a split second, he could see Psyche’s smile tweak with amusement. Then, the world vanished behind two perfect breasts as someone wrapped him in huge hug.

When the person withdrew, Calex found Merry beaming down at him. That green and gold, low-cut sundress wouldn’t have looked half as good on anyone other than her. Her hair was curled and Calex ached to realize this was the first time he’d seen Merry in smart dress for a party.

Glancing around Merry, he saw this was, indeed, a party. Kally gave him a huge grin and wave. She had her—and presumably Merry’s—birthday gifts under one arm. Her other arm held the unmistakable colors of her Manchester United jacket. Calex was happy the weather was too hot for her to get mugged for putting it on in the wrong town. Behind Kally, Piper and Jason entered the restaurant, glancing around the glass ceiling.

Paul, his crazy cousin, and one of their Arsenal hooligan mates stepped in after, noticed how Merry kept snug against Calex’s side and how Psyche sat across from him and gave Calex a subtle thumbs up.

“When did all of you get here?” Calex asked, baffled. He glanced at Psyche who was innocently sipping at her drink. “Did you do this?”

She shook her head. “Oh, no. I offered to get you here for lunch. That is the extent of my foreplanning.”

“This did this,” Merry said and pointed to herself. “You have a child of parties and revelry before you and you accuse someone else of orchestrating a shindig. I’m personally offended, birthday boy.”

A wave of euphoria struck Calex, and he didn’t think it was from Merry’s powers. He hadn’t seen any of them since he left America, at least a month ago. Electronics never agreed with demigods, so he struggled to properly keep in touch. Talking to his mates at home was uncomfortable. Everyone treated him different since he got back. Until Calex saw their smiling faces, he hadn’t known how much he’d missed them.

“Hi Calex!” Piper cheered. “Lacy had to pick up someone else, but she and Mitchell are looking for parking right now.”

Jason nodded. “Percy and Annabeth send their best, but they had some college-level monsters pop up.”

“We had a few ‘maybe’ responses, but the important people are here,” Kally said and punched his arm.

Out of his peripheral, he could see Amelia rush out with a pre-prepared tray of sparkling beverages. Paul and his mate, Oliver, helped her to set up some space for them.

“The most important people, Cyclops?”

Calex, Merry, Kally, Piper, Jason, and—to Calex’s alarm—Psyche, all jumped at the couple that entered the restaurant.

For a split second, Calex dropped his hand to his pencil pouch, containing Soul Pain, his bow. After a breath, he recognized the new occupant. It was someone younger and much more annoying than the person Calex had mistook the boy for. Beside the boy was someone else that Calex thought he may never ever see again.

Pax wore a familiar burgundy button-down and dress pants. His wild raven hair was combed back into a sloppy ponytail that curled and twisted. He wore his fully loaded utility belt with poisons and serums. Two revolvers hung out of his shoulder holsters and atop suspenders that were lined with darts. He winked his golden eye at Kally.

Calex had to wonder what the Mist turned all those weapons into when Pax was on the street.

Pax held his automaton hand out to escort a young woman Calex also didn’t recognize initially.

Upon examining her, Calex could tell she wasn’t wearing real clothing. The… dress? Or sometimes body suit..? The clothing she wore trembled and altered as they walked closer. The mesh itself came from intertwining leaves, vines, and flowers. Petals fell from it as she walked, leaving a trail of colors. Her feet were bare. The only solid thing that she wore was a sickle strapped across her back with a vine. Her unkempt hair was enlaced with more beautiful flowers, ones—Calex thought—he remembered being poisonous.

Her dark gaze was turned upward so she could grin at the glass ceiling.

When she met his stare, she smiled like they’d seen each other yesterday. “Hey. Nice choice in restaurant. What’s their best meal?”

“Euna?” Kally asked, covering her mouth with one hand.

Like Calex, her fingers had dropped into her messenger bag in a reflexive search for a weapon.

“Yes, a happy Euna, that looks completely normal and you should compliment her on realizing floral was in this summer,” Pax said.

Jason opened and closed his mouth, glaring at Pax suspiciously. Everyone knew the Romans had been searching for these two. Piper tugged on Jason’s hand. “It’s nice to have everyone together for Calex’s birthday, isn’t it?” she asked.

Calex could feel the calm of Piper’s tone.

“Yep,” Merry piped in. “All here to relax and party.”

Between the two of them, the tension in Jason’s arm muscles eased. Calex and Kally released their weapons. Piper tugged Jason to the side to look at a menu.

A bee flew off one of Euna’s shoulder plants as she and Pax approached Calex. She held out a hand and a root twisted down her arm to her palm. Upon resting there, something sprouted, in fast motion, and a beautiful grey and purple flower appeared. “I made you a flower,” she said. “It will alternate blooming from mid-spring to late autumn. And, as Axel would have recommended, you can use its leaves to kill your enemies. But, for real, what is the best thing on this menu?”

She set the flower into the vase on the table. All the other plants in the vase rose up to her hand, coming to full bloom.

“Lovely,” Calex said, staring at the beautiful, deadly plant, so close to where they were going to eat. “And—um—for you? Probably the Boeuf Bourguignon.” He said, fumbling to think of the most filling thing on the menu. He was so taken aback by her appearance—someone he thought he’d never see again, he felt silly giving lunch recommendations instead of giving her a hug.

She nodded, took a table, and was immediately set upon by Paul. Kally rushed over to make sure Paul didn’t unsettle the volatile daughter of Demeter. Calex had to wonder what Paul saw when he looked at Euna—a cute Korean girl in a floral dress? Someone nearly naked with… what would he think the sickle was?

Psyche’s eyes trailed Euna’s movements, proving not everyone invited knew about everyone else that could be coming. He imagined Merry “forgetting” that she’d be inviting Euna and a goddess and—if his dad showed up—a god. At least Euna either didn’t recognize Psyche or didn’t care. From their conversations that morning, Calex could also imagine Psyche coming regardless.

Pax withdrew something from a pouch on his utility belt. “She brought you a birthday gift. I bring you bribery.”

He handed Calex an envelope.

“The closest thing to a gift that a Pax boy can give when he doesn’t want to sleep with the receiver,” Merry said.

Pax tsked. “Merry, don’t jump to conclusions. I could have great interest in Calex.”

“Don’t even joke,” Calex hissed. He broke the seal. “I ought to open this now, oughtn’t I? In case there’s some sort of Morpheus powder?”

He expected it to be a drawing of weasels devouring him, as Pax had promised to make in the past.

Instead, there was a check.

For a moment of stupid belief, Calex felt his jaw drop. With as much firm denial as he’d previously felt awe, he said, “This is fake.”

Pax gave him that half-grin. “Now, really, you can’t know that until it bounces and you look like an idiot at the bank.”

Calex glared. He leaned forward. Short of excusing themselves, there was no way to keep Merry and Psyche from listening, but he had to put up the illusion of privacy. Judging from their overtly feigned ignorance and they way they lunged into a seeming personal conversation for supposed strangers, he suspected they knew exactly what was in this envelope before he’d opened it. “Pax, what dodgy thing did you do to get it and what are you getting at by pretending to offer this to me?”

“I haven’t done anything dodgy to get this,” Pax said. His fingers made a metallic clacking noise as they shuffled along his utility belt. “I was talking to your step-mom—”

“Aunt,” Psyche interrupted both their and her and Merry’s conversation. “Step-mom feels weird.”

“Auntie,” Pax corrected. “About your situation—”

Betrayal twisted Calex’s stomach. He hadn’t felt comfortable telling anyone, including Psyche, about his family’s financial situation. Now she was yapping to others? But… there was no way. He just spoke of it a few minutes ago…

“—with the whole Pax Pharmaceutical Company drugging and kidnapping you and causing you all that trauma,” Pax said flippantly.

Calex stared. “Pardon?”

“Pax Pharmaceuticals is currently going through a rebranding, but it would really hurt our image if word got out that members of the organization had done some nasty things.”

“Wait—” Calex could never forget the horrible events Pax was referencing—a year ago when Santiago Pax kidnapped all of them, drugged he and Merry, and killed Joey Song, Euna’s sister. That wasn’t where his confusion lay. “You’re actually bribing me?” he asked. Pax had been as much a traumatized victim as the rest of them.

In the bluntest answer Pax had ever said to him, the young Mayan gave him a sly smile. “Yes. Happy Bribe Day.”

“I put my hush money into a fund for Nikhil to go to university,” Merry said cheerily. “And he thought it was for us to go to Disney.”

“How cruel,” Psyche said.

Calex swallowed, staring at the check. “Psyche… you threatened to sue him?”

“Threatened is a strong word,” Pax said.

Psyche took a sip from her drink and gave him one of those dazzling smiles. Her wings fluttered.

Calex didn’t like the idea of owing this dodgy bloke a favor, even if the favor was silence. As he stared at the digits, he thought about how long this check would last them if Winston downsized their housing and they were careful. The money he made from his summer job could go towards plane tickets to visit his mates in America and, like how Merry was using hers, maybe go into a college fund for Gretchen. And, if they accepted it, at least then he’d know any money Gretchen made would go towards new clothing instead of rent.

“I’m thinking about using Kally’s money to take her on some surprise vacations,” Pax said.

Merry clucked her tongue. “Using hush money from a kidnapping to fund further kidnappings. Pax, you naughty one.”

“Oh!” He snapped his fingers, fishing out another envelope. “Wait—Calex, this is more important. Here is your birthday gift.”

After the first envelope’s content, Calex was worried. He tore it open to look inside, wondering if he should wait until later—

And found a depiction of a colossal weasel attacking Big Ben with what Calex could only assume was a stick-figure version of himself hanging out of the animal’s mouth.

He wanted to express to Pax how much he hated him, but couldn’t rectify that with the weird need to give the boy a hug.

Instead, Calex took something out of Axel’s old book of Etiquette in the Face of Pax and simply sighed, deciding to worry over the check later and enjoy the party.

Although the odd intermixing of groups was a right mess, Calex had a fantastic time. He enjoyed watching Paul and Oliver fawn hopelessly over Euna, Psyche, and Kally, watching Kally and Paul argue over football, and watching Psyche awkwardly dodge around Pax’s audacious humor. Poor Kally didn’t know what to do when Pax turned on his charm full blast.

Calex had to wonder what his mates would say if Eros really did show up. Others had said they could see the resemblance between the two of them. Would Paul and Oliver lose their minds to hear about Calex’s biological dad?

All that faded away though when the best birthday present possible walked into the restaurant. Calex was in mid-laugh, watching Pax snark one of the fizzy drinks up his nose when he saw Lacy and Mitchell—children of Aphrodite that he’d shared a cabin with last year—step inside. Behind them, the lanky, nervous figure of Winston came through, babbling about being late. Lastly, there were four teenage girls.

Three of them were people he hadn’t really seen much since they moved to St. Albans from their tiny flat in London when Calex was very young. One, a teenage girl with black-streaked blonde hair and punk clothing, winked at him, and he knew he would have to pretend he hadn’t seen her within the last year.

Lastly, came a beautiful girl with frizzy black hair, caramel eyes, and a deep tan. She wore punk clothing that ought to have died a decade earlier, though Calex was certain she’d gotten them from the blonde. Calex had to marvel over how the fierceness in Gretchen’s eyes reminded him of Tiwa’s.

They roamed inside as though their presence had nothing to do with the party—except that two of the girls, Liz and Emma if he remembered properly, where giggling and gasping at Calex’s presence. Gretchen always hated it when her friends got crushes on him.

On their way to a booth in the corner, the blonde nudged Gretchen’s arm and whispered to her. “Come onnn, Gretch. Your brother isn’t half as annoying as mine.”

Gretchen sighed, jammed her hands into her pockets, and glared at Calex. “Happy birthday or whatever,” she said.

Those were the first words she had said to him in weeks.

Calex knew she’d be furious if made a deal out of it.

Before he could bollocks the situation, she and her friends continued to the booth, away from the rest of them. Calex smiled after them, tuning out the noise from the other party guests. Although he still missed his mum and brother, everything felt… lighter…

When Calex brought his attention back to Pax’s antics, Psyche caught his eye and tilted her glass towards him.

Calex tilted his—now a proper pint—back towards her. She was right. He still needed to find a way to thank her, Merry, and Gretchen for making this day a brilliant one. For now, he decided he would keep true to their toasting, and live life to the fullest in honor of those he missed.

Footnotes:

[1] Calex would CRINGE at how full of himself this makes him sound. He would like to apologize and offer Pax shirts to all.

[2] Pike’s betaediting comment: “We slaughtered an ox right quick to honor God, no big deal, a little off, I suppose, but not any weirder than anything those hooligans get to after the World Cup.”

[3] Much to Calex’s irritation and frustration at which people she looks at as love interests.

[4] British Secretary of State for Foreign and Commonwealth Affairs

[5] Forward for Arsenal. Ehem. Until Manchester United, Kally’s favorite team, swiped him in 2018. However, in this book series’ timeline, Alexis would have just started his Arsenal career. Can you imagine the look of horror on Calex’s face when he found out one of Arsenal’s best players was being transferred to Kally’s team?

[6] Mel suggests a quick dip in the River Lithe. Supposedly cures that RIGHT up.

Thank you for the read! And thanks for the request from anon!

#Traitors of Olympus #Short story #PJO #Percy Jackson and the Olympians #Heroes of Olympus #HOO #fanfiction #OC #Calex Rupin McKenzie #Psyche #Jason #Piper #Pax #Euna #Kally #Merry #Sadie (spot the sadie!)#Sorry I disappeared for so long!#Should be back to full gear in about a week or two!

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duckling-duck-duck · 4 years ago

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Midnight Sun Review, Chapter 1: First Sight (Why am I doing this?)

Hello people and welcome to my side blog specifically dedicated to my thoughts, feeling and opinions on Midnight Sun by Stephenie Meyer. It’s not like I have anything better to do at the moment (studying for exams, a semester to prepare for, friendships to cultivate) so let’s get to it!

Before I get started on informing you of said thoughts, feelings and opinions, here are a few disclaimers and other things you should probably know to follow my thought process and that will likely have an influence both on my reading experience and view of this book. For my inspiration for this undertaking, you all can thank both Hannah Lee Kidder for her excellent rewrites of the first book on YouTube (she is awesome, go check her out) and Strange Aeons for her video review of Midnight Sun, which I would also highly recommend.

When I heard that Stephenie Meyer (from now on referred to as SM, yes) finally was going to publish this mysterious thing that was circulating when I was barely a teenager and just starting my Twilight phase, and still seriously interested in the books, I was both over the moon and very apprehensive. And I knew immediately that I was going to buy and read it, no matter how bad or good it was going to be.

This YA fiction series was a huge part of my early formative years. At the time when I first read it, I was still too young to thoroughly grasp some of the more problematic concepts of the story, which has since changed. It got me into vampires, to an obsessive and, frankly, unhealthy amount. I subsequently read literature that was NOT for the eyes of a thirteen-year-old at the time and at the same time much worse fanfiction.

Another probably important thing is that I did not read the original Twilight series in English, but rather in German, which means that some things I may remember differently due to translation. I included this because the way Germans translate English in books is atrocious. I have never re-read the books after I read them for the first time, only watched the movies a couple of times since, mostly to make fun of them, this time in English. When the fourth movie came out, I was already mostly over Twilight again and just went to the theatre with my best friend for the hell of it. The only characters I was invested in at this point were the side characters, like Jasper, Rosalie, Leah Clearwater and, basically, anyone and everyone that wasn’t Edward, Bella and Jacob (mostly because everyone else had a much more compelling storyline). So please bear that in mind when I rip into this book. I will also probably be biased in favour of these characters.

This brings me to my last but probably the most important point: I had no interest in Edward and Bella and mostly wanted to know what kind of mess they ended up in this time. I made fun of them a lot. The older I got, the more of the unhealthy tendencies I recognized. So, this is my official warning for everyone who is genuinely interested in this book and wants to read it for fun and came across this post by accident: It will not be nice. I will probably not be kind. I like sarcasm and am not afraid to utilize it to get across exactly how dumb, deranged or practically pointless I think something is. I like to think I can give credit where it is due, but this is probably not the blog or post for you.

I will include trigger warnings if necessary, but if I miss anything please do not hesitate to let me know and/or stop reading immediately if it makes you uncomfortable. I am open to discussion and criticism, but please remain civil. And now that introduction has gone on for far too long, so please enjoy.

Chapter Summary: What happened?

We start with Edward in class having an existential crisis which seems to be his default state. He comments on his siblings, reducing them to absolute tropes which anyone who has read the original series later knows is not at all what and/or who they are. Practically anyone is more interesting than him, though that is not a high bar. Then we have lunch period (still wild you have that) where everyone else is thinking of the new girl who is still nothing amazing to him. Edward spews some vapid comments about everyone else in school (the word “children” comes to mind and is frequently used) and is very amused that particularly the female population, except for Angela, seems to be interested in him. After that, we get the famous biology scene from a whole other point of view and boy is it enjoyable! We end the chapter with Edward going to Alaska because otherwise he may or may not break into Charlie’s house to kill the daughter of the chief of police. (I rewrote this summary like, five times and still cannot make it less sarcastic. I apologize.) (#sorrynotsorry)

Warnings: Swearing, a lot. Explicit language. Too many parentheses. Slight description of violence. A lot of talk about murder.

It took me two evenings getting through this first chapter (25 pages total) and I am not going to lie: On the first one, I barely managed to make it 5 pages in before I had to stop and lie down and mentally prepare myself for the things that were to come. And lord, did they come!

If you thought being stuck in Bella’s mind was exhausting, welcome to a new level of it. Because Edward is even more self-deprecating than she is. He literally describes his basically vegetative state as purgatory because high school is just that boring. Granted, it sometimes is, but why even is he in high school then? As mentioned later he has 2 doctorate degrees. Could you just not go to university and study something that you haven’t learned yet? If Rosalie, Emmett and Jasper can pass as seniors (and you have to excuse me, but I know practically nothing of the American school system) then I am sure you can pull some kind of ‘gifted’ scheme to put Edward in either advanced classes or have him skip a few years. And fake a High School diploma. Another question: if he has two doctorates, why doesn’t he do something with them? You could apply your mind and focus on other things, like research, furthering humanity, curing cancer! (On that note: why has Carlisle not tried to do that? Just because you need to fly under the radar? There has got to be something you can do, both with your excessive money and apparently brilliant mind, that would benefit all of humanity that you so desperately try not to hurt. And if not personally, you can damn-well fund it or nudge someone in the right direction.)

But this doesn’t just tell us that Edward is bored out of his mind, it also tells us that he is probably unhappy with his non-life as well. In the first four sentences, we have already set the tone for the entire novel and I am contemplating a descent into alcoholism. It is gonna be excruciating to follow this dude’s mind for 756 pages because that is 755 pages too long. His entire existence revolves around making Carlisle proud and proving he still retains some of his humanity. While he sometimes talks about the love he has for his siblings, that seems more of a farce he upholds for his adoptive father (read: god) and mother, which in her case is more of a ‘can’t deal with her disappointed look’ (we all know the one), because besides Alice his opinion of them is basically ‘couldn’t be bothered to give a shit’.

(I wanted to use a gif of her but this was the first thing that popped up when I searched "rosalie" and ngl, it fits his perception of her perfectly)

Rosalie, in his opinion, is shallow, self-obsessed, and superior the everyone (“her mind was a stagnant pool with few surprises”). These two do not get along whatsoever and while this may have been my initial impression of her in Twilight it changed over time. She is more than that and it is baffling that Edward thinks of her that way even after all this time. They are familiar with each other’s stories and I find it hard to believe that he would do anything nice for her based on the initial impression we are presented within this book. Or maybe she now has almost everything she wants: a loving partner, a family, a comfortable life. Why is it so bad? She seems to be comfortable and even happy. Can Edward just not accept that other people might not despise this life as much as he does?

Emmett gets away slightly better than Rosalie, but not much. The impression I got of him from reading his paragraph is that he is an overgrown, glorified child. He has no problem with Edward reading his thoughts, specifically because he carries his heart on his sleeve and if he has something to say, he will say it to your face. He seems to be Edwards second favourite of his siblings.

His absolute favourite is Alice, because “it wasn’t easy, being the freaks among those who were already freaks.” If Bella and Jasper weren’t in the picture, those two would be a couple, I swear! They are the extra special snowflakes (derogatory) among the already special snowflakes (derogatory) (So sorry!). They look out for each other; I can already tell you that they will present a united front concerning anything and everything and ask each other favours (like Alice wanting Edward to keep an eye on Jasper to make sure he doesn’t go on a murdering spree because he’s hungry).

Coincidentally, Edward is pretty mad at her for focusing on her husband/boyfriend/SO and his trip down the serial killer lane in a public high school that she, later on, doesn’t catch a glimpse of Edwards violent fantasies and his possible future with his fangs in Bella’s neck. He seems to be pretty salty about that. I get that for Edward this is probably pretty damning, especially since this is not a regular occurrence, but has the thought crossed his mind that, right now, she has other priorities? Or that this future simply will not come to pass and that is the reason she hasn’t seen it? I am not familiar with how it works in the books (like I said, ages) but in the movies sometimes she gets the visions automatically without focusing and they are dependent on a person’s intent.

Back to Jasper then. And oh, Jasper. They did my boy dirty.

Well, technically not, because he has a much harder time living among humans than the others. But SM did not have to write Edward so dismissive of his struggles. To quote: “And Jasper was … suffering. I suppressed a sigh.” If this is so hard for him, why does he have to be there at all? They can’t always count on Edward and Alice to monitor him like a toddler. It would be far more efficient to just keep him away from humans. Also, and this is something that I have snapchatted to my friends several times and no one has yet come up with a concrete answer for me: You know how half the population is female? And how there are art-classes and PE and probably a school nurse? Accidents happen (I cannot tell you how often my friend had a spontaneous nosebleed in the middle of history class) and PMS is a thing. There will be a girl on her period when Jasper hasn’t fed in a long time. He’s not gonna avoid it by any stretch of the world by being in school. Have him stay home with Esme and work more in smaller steps.

“Why flirt with disaster?” If you can say that in response to Jasper having fantasies about drinking the blood of one of his classmates which starts with what is an exhibitionist-inclined make-out, why can’t you stay away from Bella? Because let me tell you: the best scene in this chapter was Edwards’s mind working out how to best kill his entire biology class just so he can rip open the new student and afterwards he doesn’t take his advice and cannot stay the fuck away. To his credit though, he tries. For like, half a chapter.

Until that point, where he smelled her, Bella was entirely mundane and uninteresting. He’s seen her in the minds of other students and the cafeteria and the most remarkable thing about her is that he can’t read her mind. He is very dismissive of it: “Not that I would find anything worth listening to.” So yeah, she doesn’t particularly strike his fancy or frankly, his interest.

But then she steps into the airflow that full-on blows her scent into his face and I have no words, except damn! And from that on we get the seven and a half most enjoyable pages of this chapter (dare I say the whole book?), the murder fantasies. What does it say about this book that this is the best scene so far? I found it quite well written to be honest. How he changes his second plan midway through the first because there are too many instances of the others screaming for help or alerting everyone else and, most importantly, Bellas body would grow cold while he snaps about 19 necks in 5 seconds. He is, for a monster without control, very methodical in his imaginary attempts to murder his class. Him thinking he has to destroy evidence, figuring out how he could best and most efficiently go about it, ultimately not relishing the killing but seeing it as the removal of an obstacle – I am getting some serious Hannibal vibes.

Of course, the thing holding him back is Carlisle and how Edward knows that his adoptive father would forgive him for this, because “he thought I was better than I was”. Only Edward being a stubborn bitch and wanting to prove something to Carlisle keeps around 20 people alive that day.

While I think the scene is incredible, it still rubs me the wrong way in a particular aspect: Edward has a raging fang-boner (pardon my French) for Bella and has the gall to judge Jasper simply because for him that is a permanent state of being. If anything, it makes me have a lot more respect for Jasper (and we can get into the confederate army major thing another time, I am aware of that) because he hasn’t ripped open someone’s bowels. But that isn’t where I was going with this. Edward only takes an interest in Bella because she smells like ecstasy to him. Because his instincts attract him to a meal so scrumptious, he’s never gonna forget it again. What a great start for a relationship! Also, he hates her because of her scent and this somehow keeps him sane. I either do not get boys in general or Edward Cullen specifically. Probably both.

It also takes him waaay too long to stop breathing. (And I know that he uses the phrase “sinking my teeth through that fine, thin, see-through skin to the hot, wet, pulsing-” to describe her neck, but I have read too much horribly/well-written E-rated fanfics on AO3 to not think of a vagina when I read this.)

And even after he has resolved to not abduct and kill the new student, he still fantasizes about doing it. Like I said, reading his fantasies is pretty enjoyable, but why did SM have to give them to us in the first chapter? Nothing in this book is gonna compare to this description ever again and I am sad about it. I know, who’d have thought?

Then we get to the part where he thinks about following her to her house because to kill her there is “the responsible way to deal with this”. Excuse me? Oh man, still really enjoyable to read, but now I am genuinely scared for Bella!

Because this is not just very detailed, but also very thought out. I am not sure if SM decided to ramp up the fear-factor for Edward because while everyone theoretically knows that he could snap a neck with his pinkie, the thirst was very much real about a decade ago and everyone just kinda glossed over the fact that Edward is a killing-machine. Not sure if Bella wouldn’t take Jacobs concerns regarding sex with a vampire while she was still human a little more seriously if she knew that was how her husband thought about her when they met. Is this supposed to entice me or turn me on? Not that it ever could in general, because Edward, but after that description, I am very much turned off, actually, and not at all receptive to this dude and want to tell Bella to run for the hills or La Push and never come back. This is, good writing aside, disturbing!

After class, he heads out in his car and listens to calming music, which he does a lot. I’ll keep tabs on how often and keep you posted. And this is where he gets angry with Alice for focusing on Jasper instead of him. To quote: “Was she so absorbed with watching for trouble with Jasper that she’d missed this much more horrific possibility?” Well, maybe because her boyfriend has a much harder time with basically every student in the school rather than just one and is much more likely to flip his table in English and jump the teacher (and not in a fun way). And that her life doesn’t revolve around you!

As I said, the chapter ends with him speeding off into the night, because that is the only responsible choice. If you fell you it best to remove yourself from the situation, do it. But maybe stay consistent afterwards.

Good things: The description of Edwards methodical nature when planning the murders. Very well written, as well as his portrayal as a ruthless monster compared to the amped-up teenage-heartthrob-thing we got from Bellas point of view. The danger surrounding a vampire never really came through, but now it did. I actually fear for her. Very impressive writing.

Bad things: How easily and nonchalantly he tries to manipulate his way into a higher-level science class was very disturbing. How dismissive he is of almost all of his siblings and their problems or their happiness. The fact that the first feelings he had towards Bella are ambivalence and hatred.

This is gonna be unbearable, isn’t it?

#midnight sun #bella swan #edward cullen #review #can we even call it that?

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