#because economics is kicking my ass and i need to focus on it but i just want to be happy

[mistletoe-official]

gotta clean up this blog ahhhh

#consider me full of excitement and low key dread #because economics is kicking my ass and i need to focus on it but i just want to be happy #new ooc tag #*creative outlets are what make me happy btw*

[pale-silver-comb]

So I know absolutely nothing about Leverage except what I've been seeing you post lately and I have to admit you're making it look tempting to watch! Can I ask what are some of your favorite things about the show/reasons you would suggest people watch it? And is there really a poly relationship that is canon?

Okay. Okay, okay, okay, okay, okay. I am going to do my best not to just “asdfghkjl” at you and answer coherently.

In a nutshell, Leverage is about 5 people. 4 are criminals (Parker, Hardison, Eliot and Sophie) with different and unique skill-sets and 1 is an ex-insurance investigator (Nate) who, at one point or another in his career, has tracked down (or at least attempted to) the other 4. The whole show is essentially: man reluctantly reforms 4 criminals to use their criminal powers for good and 4 criminals move into man’s life and stubbornly refuse to leave because, goddammit, now they have morals. 

I’ve got a lot of favourite things about the show but the main ones are as follows:

1. Found family. And I’m not talking about loners who come together to fight crime and happen to co-exist to the point where they realise they happen to have found themselves a family. I mean, Nate and Sophie are the Drunk Uncle and Wine Aunt who somehow become Mom and Dad to 3 beautiful criminal children. Mom and Dad love their criminal babies and the kids love them (as well as each other, but we’ll come to that in a moment). You get amazing family moments such as: Mom and Dad packing the kids lunch before sending them out to kick corporate greed’s ass; Mom and Dad giving the kids ridiculously expensive and personal Christmas presents causing their most Grumpy Kid to go very very quiet and soft as he runs off to gleefully play with his new murder toy; the kids interrupting Mom and Dad’s big Movie Style Kiss to ask if they can please keep their new underground layer and huffing and puffing when Dad tells them no.

2. Found family: the OT3 edition. To answer your question, the OT3 is indeed canon, confirmed by the creator. Now, usually, “confirmed by the creator” infuriates me because most of the time it’s a way for a creator to be seen as “progressive” without doing anything to actually be progressive. That isn’t the case here. The OT3 are built up carefully and while it is obvious the creators didn’t originally intend for all 3 of them to become a relationship in the romantic sense, by mid-season 5 we are given a very clear picture of where Parker, Hardison and Eliot are heading in their relationship. There aren’t any kisses at the end to signal this but there are solid marriage vows in not only one but two episodes. (And by marriage vows I mean literal equivalents of marriage vows: “for better or worse” and “’til death do us part”. I’m not even exaggerating). The OT3 also doesn’t need explicit romantic narratives to convey how much they love each other. Their love is laced through the whole show, from the way they teach each other things to the way they respond to each other and work as a unit. The way they fiercely protect and admire each other. Like someone once said, if you need characters to kiss or say I love you to let the audience know they love each other, you are writing them wrong. 

Aside from that, each of the parings in the OT3 are just. Gah. They are so well done, with friendship being the solid basis for them all. The creators never expect the audience to assume anything about them or fill in the gaps. They give us their relationships on screen and reference many things off-screen to show us how these relationships continue to build in between episodes.

Hardison and Parker are a canon couple and date in the show: it’s approached slowly and they are so goddamned sweet. They are basically every fluffy slow-burn trope with a healthy dash of mutual pining in the mix. They are basically that quote “love is patient, love is kind”. (I would like to add their romance never becomes the focus of the show or overrides the importance of any other relationship they have with the other characters, especially Eliot.)

Hardison and Eliot are the Old Married Couple and from day one are already bickering and looking at each other/making comments that are found in every UST fic ever (not to mention Hardison has a very good knack for making Eliot grin like a little kid, when usually he’s basically an Angry Little Chef Man). They argue, they play, and love each other plain as day. 

Parker and Eliot are more subtle but every bit as wonderful. They have an unspoken connection and understand each other on a level no-one else can. Parker and Eliot are not good with giving themselves over to affection for different reasons (and Hardison plays a central role in helping them realise it’s okay to want it and have it- that boy has endless patience) but there is something so beautiful in the way the two of them come together on their own and develop their own special bond that works for them. Parker and Eliot are that trope where the characters don’t need to speak to understand each other perfectly. They just do. Their love language is a lot of the time non-verbal but speaks volumes. (Parker also likes to annoy the hell out of Eliot and Eliot....just.....lets...her. Because he’s soft. The softest, grumpiest boy.) 

I could go into so much depth for each pairing and their dynamics as a 3 but that's for another post.

3. Subverting stereotypes. There is the occasional hiccup in the show regarding stereotypes but ultimately, Leverage gets an A+ when it comes to writing characters and making them 3 dimensional people who are not defined by certain characteristics or events. Nate could so easily fall into the White Man Pain trope where he uses the trauma of losing his kid as a reason as to why he is entitled to act like a dick. Nate is a dick but he doesn’t use his pain to excuse it and I appreciate that. Hardison is a black man who is soft and nurturing. Easily the most empathetic and patient of the group. He’s nerdy, an actual genius, and has the biggest heart of all the characters. Nate is maybe the glue but Hardison is definitely the heart. Media’s usual aggressive, amongst other, racist stereotypes can fuck right off. Parker is canonically autistic (I am sure this was confirmed by one of the creators) and she is not defined by it. It’s not written as some kind of singular personality trait. It’s part of what makes up Parker but it’s only one facet of who she is and not once is her actions, thoughts or feelings treated like a joke. Sometimes people don’t understand why she does and says the things she does but it’s met with patience and fondness over the course of the show. Equally, it’s not met with over-caution. Parker is just Parker. No-one tries to change her. The other nice thing is Hardison, who always makes sure Parker knows she’s amazing because of who she is and not in spite of it. Finally, Sophie is in her 40s. She’s not treated like she’s past her prime. Ever. She’s sexy, smart and never is she pitted against or compared to Parker (who is younger) for anything. Sophie is amazing and there’s never even a conversation of “I may be older but I am still *insert adjective typically associated with younger women here*”. Sophie is possibly the first female character I’ve ever seen who isn’t just unapologetic about her age but has never had to apologise for her age. It’s a non-issue and that’s that. The women on the show are written so well, right down to secondary characters and it’s beyond refreshing.  

4.) It’s just fun. The show has a “monster of the week” type format. Except instead of a ghoul or a ghost, the monster is some corrupt wealthy and powerful individual or organisation. The show draws on real-life individuals to do this and therefore closely parallels real-life people and events. It addresses important political, economical, social and environmental issues while at the same time remaining fun and light-hearted. The characters constantly get the chance to play dress up and by GOD do they have fun with it. You get to watch Eliot beat up bad guys in the most delightful of ways, usually after a witty non-sequitur and with a weapon you’d never think could be a weapon. The dialogue and back and forth between the characters is everything. And finally - my favourite thing- the team can never resist striking a dramatic pose after they’ve taken down the bad guy, making sure the bad guy sees them. I mean, they COULD just walk away, satisfied they’ve taken the person down, but nope. They gotta be dramatic bitches 24/7 and pose like they are models for every single month of this year’s Criminal Calendar.  

5.) Competence Porn. So. Much. Competence Porn.  

Honestly, I could list a thousand reasons for why Leverage is amazing but to list them would to be spoiling so many amazing moments you’d get to discover for the first time on your own if you do choose to watch it. It’s the kind of show you can watch with an eagle-eye and sink your teeth into. But it’s also the kind of show if, you would prefer, put on in the background for something entertaining while you do something else. Each episode is about the job at hand but it’s made up of so many moments between the characters that show how much the creators and writers care about them. You’ll laugh, you’ll cry, you’ll do whatever it is you do when something Soft and Wonderful happens that makes your heart melt. I am so beyond grateful for Leverage. It’s everything I always wanted in a show. Nearly every show I’ve watched in the past 10 years has disappointed me in some way, usually either because the writers run out of steam or characters who I love are treated poorly or given some kind of unnecessary “shock value” arc. Leverage doesn’t do that. Leverage is what it says on the bottle. Fandom isn’t something I joined because I needed canon fix-its. Fandom only enhances and celebrates an already excellent canon. 

#leverage #leverage ot3 #parker #alec hardison #eliot spencer #sophie devereaux #nate ford #talk leverage to me

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

reading update

it’s been a hot minute since the last time I posted one of these, because things refuse to stop happening and I’ve recently felt like my brain was completely breaking down. focusing on any kind of reading lately has been hard, and probably not helped by the fact that I decided to try to start off the year with some dense-ass academic texts. 

that’s been getting me nowhere fast, so I’m gonna say fuck that and focus on clearing out the fiction from my to-read list for the time being. 

what have I been reading?

The Tragedy of Heterosexuality (Jane Ward) - smart and punchy, always delightful to read research that presents cisheterosexuality as the strange Other to parse and make sense of. much like when I read Angela Chen’s Ace, I was equally excited about actually reading this book and about the future of queer nonfic that it represented.

Real Life (Brandon Taylor) - I’m not generally a contemporary lit fic kind of man, but maybe Brandon Taylor will be my exception? he captures the hypnotic tedium and introspection of my favorite short stories and makes it into a full-length novel without ever losing my interest, and that’s doing something. he seems to be sort of a publishing whiz kid right now, and I’m looking forward to seeing where his career is going.

When They Call You A Terrorist: A Black Lives Matter Memoir (Patrisse Khan-Cullors) - file this under ‘books to make you want to set some things on fire.’ 

The Traitor Baru Cormorant (Seth Dickinson) - ‘surely it can’t be as good as all that’ I thought. ‘it’s a fantasy about economics, where’s the fun in that?’ I thought. ‘nothing ever lives up to the hype,’ I thought. readers, I was delighted to be wrong. 

The Death of Vivek Oji (Akwaeke Emezi) - I’ve talked more than a little about how Emezi’s debut YA novel fell flat for me, but we’re right back on track with their second novel for adults. I think I might have liked it even more than Freshwater, which I didn’t think was possible, and in conclusion we have no choice but to stan.

Everyone on the Moon is Essential Personnel (Julian K. Jarboe) - very few short story collections are slam dunk winners all the way through, but also very few short stories are this screamingly queer and punky and weird, so it all balances out and I still very much consider this a win. I wish profoundly I’d written down the name of a few stories I liked in particular before I returned the book to the library but alas, art remains ephemeral and all that.

A Quick and Easy Guide to Sex and Disability (A. Andrews) - exactly what it says on the tin, which is to say, pleasant but not particularly in-depth. regardless, definitely not a bad one for any sex educator (or sex witch, as you do) to keep around, and if you don’t know shit about sex for disabled folks then give it a gander.

What We Talk About When We Talk About Rape (Sohaila Abdulali) - oofa doofa, what to say? I love this book for how refreshingly frank it is; Abdulali is a survivor and extends the utmost empathy to fellow survivors while refusing to be precious about rape, which kind of kicks ass. she’s also Indian and does a pretty solid job not grounding the book in an entirely Western context, which is rare to encounter in this type of literature, and overall it would be a big yeehaw from me if not for the book’s passive insistence that only men commit sex crimes, which is a particularly glaring oversight come from a bisexual author.

The Empress of Salt and Fortune (Nghi Vo) - exactly the novella I needed to get me out of my no-reading rut. short and sharp and delicious, a recollection of rebellion that I devoured in about a day. maybe this will be the year I get novellas!

what am I reading now?

Shades of Milk and Honey (Mary Robinette Kowal) - I literally just started this, like, 20 minutes ago, and I’m already obsessed even though I’m only a chapter deep. this is definitely for people who like Pride and Prejudice (hi) and also reminds me of Silvia Moreno-Garcia’s The Beautiful Ones, which I also devoured, so this should be an excellent time. 

#bookblr #reading updates

[yodawgiherd]

You Were Never Truly Gone - END

>>>Read on AO3<<< Rating: M

So this is it, the final chapter. It was fun to share this with you all, and I do hope that you enjoyed the ride at least a little bit ;) check end note ( on AO3) for a surprise

The room where the most honored and powerful individuals of the Hizuru nation resided was a spacious one. Intricate paintings decorated the walls, cuts in the wood created beautiful carvings and the pottery alone was worth more than what a decent-sized village would eat through in a month.  Overall, it triumphed everything Mikasa saw in her life, easily topping the castle back on Paradis, and a single thought flashed through her head.

Those guys are lucky that all this pomp wasn’t trampled during the rumbling.

Unlike the room, the council itself was almost exactly what Mikasa expected. Old men and women sitting in expensive chairs and wearing expensive robes – kimono, was it? – studying her with cold and calculating eyes. Unlike Kiyomi, who Mikasa respected despite their recent disagreements, these were the ones who lacked the spine of iron she possessed. They never took an active part in the war, never braved the sea to assist the struggling nation, never stared down a barrel of the gun.

Never kicked Floch’s ass either. Heh.

They inspected her - a curiosity, a trinket shipped from across the sea to be pinned on the Shogun’s chest, a strange yet beautiful ornament. Vultures, carrion eaters, exactly the type that Mikasa despised, as they reminded her of the same individuals who were responsible for the fucked up political situation back home. Then again, Mikasa was not here to change them, she could never do that, she wasn't a politician. She was here to blow their minds.

Summoning her courage and combining it with the steadfast presence of masked Eren at her back, Mikasa took a few steps forward until she was standing in the middle of the room. Easy to be seen, easy to be heard. Kiyomi, who followed close behind, saved her from the awkward need of introducing herself. An unnecessary formality, as they definitely knew who she was.

“Lady Mikasa Ackerman of the Paradis Island.”, Kiyomi said out loud, “The Shogun’s descendant.”

A wave of murmurs ran through the seated council members.

“Lady Mikasa,”, one spoke up, a man whose facial features closely resembled Daigo’s, “It is an honor.”

“The honor is all mine.”, she replied quickly, knowing how important first impressions are.

If this was indeed lord Sawamura, as she suspected, he was the one holding the most power in Hizuru's shattered government. A man who expected his son to be the next Shogun, a plan she was here to disrupt. Thread carefully…

“We hope that your journey was pleasant.”, a woman council member said, a neutral smile on her lips, “The seas can be cruel at this time of the year, but we had more than enough suffering.”

“The journey was fine.”, Kiyomi spoke up, moving past Mikasa and taking her seat on the vacant chair.

It was her right, of course, as she was a full member of this council.

But exchanging formalities would get them nowhere – yet before Mikasa could say anything Sawamura took the word.

“I feel like we all know why we have gathered today.”, his eyes found Mikasa’s, “I know that this is rather sudden, but we would like the wedding to be held in a few weeks at most, the people need something grand to focus on and this event will give them just that.”

"The royal tailor is here,", the woman from before chimed in, "We can have your measurements taken today if you are not too tired lady Mikasa. The sooner he can start working on your dress, the better."

“I-“

“The florist is here too, so we can discuss the choices of…”

“….the carpets…”

“Number of guests?”

It became a blur around her, the council talking together as if Mikasa wasn't even there. It was exactly as she suspected – she was a trophy from the distant lands, a status shipped over because of the blood in her veins. But did anyone care about what she had to say?

Hell no.

Finding Kiyomi Mikasa realized that the old woman was looking straight at her, the message clear. This was her show, and if she wanted to be more than a pretty face she had to speak for herself, Kiyomi wouldn’t bail her out this time around. Closing her eyes and preparing the speech, Mikasa inhaled deeply.

Eren being here was stupid, she knew that, but was glad for it regardless. His presence behind her, however masked, was something she could draw strength from. It was them she was fighting for now, the whatever they had because it filled her with joy like nothing else. She had to defend that, no matter what.

“I’m not marrying.”, she said.

Everybody ignored her and yammered on about the wedding, while Kiyomi’s ironic smile grew.

“I’m not marrying!”, she shouted this time around, finally getting the council’s attention.

“What do you mean?”, someone asked from her right.

“I won’t marry anyone because I will be your Shogun instead.”

Tick. Tick. Tick.

The silence was so thick that Mikasa could probably cut it, lasting for three seconds before it imploded into another heated debate. There was a lot of shouting suddenly, disbelieving shaking of heads, and lord Sawamura was among the loudest, immediately getting Mikasa’s attention.

“A woman can never be a Shogun!”

“A woman never was a Shogun,”, she replied, “and I would like to remind you all that these circumstances we find ourselves in are also unprecedented.”

“Why would we ever vote for you? You are an outsider, you know nothing of Hizuru!”

“Fair point,", Mikasa agreed, “Let me explain…”

The commotion died down as they stared at her – the sheer audacity of her words taking the winds from their sails.

“I had no ties to Hizuru, no deep need for a reconnection with my people. My mother died before she could tell me about you all, before the spark in me was ignited. All I was given is this-“, Mikasa raised her hand, letting everyone see the tattoo on her wrist, “This ink, this mark of a clan I didn’t know, that was nothing to me back then. I kept it secret because my mother wished it so, but didn’t pay much attention to it, as you can all agree that I had quite a lot on my mind.”

Eren smiled behind the Faceless mask, very much remembering how privileged he felt when Mikasa peeled those bandages from her wrist and showed him the mark for the first time, years and years ago. In the middle of the room, she continued her speech.

“Then Kiyomi came, telling me all about your nation and my heritage, and I was taken aback. So this was what the mark meant, this was why I should have kept it hidden – suddenly I was royalty.", she chuckled, "You could imagine that I wasn't exactly thrilled by that."

“The war happened, rumbling destroyed the world and I was left to sit in Paradis and watch it become a militaristic stronghold. And that’s when I couldn’t take it anymore.”, for the first time in her speech, Mikasa raised her voice, “I have seen too much death, too much war, too much suffering for it to repeat again and again, for humanity to be stuck in some never-ending loop of violence. I have decided to use this mark, this status of mine for one thing and one thing only.”

She spread her arms.

“Peace. And not only peace of a shocked world that is slowly rebuilding from the ashes, but a peace that will survive not only us in this room but our children too. That’s why I’m asking for your support as the new Shogun. I am not a skilled and experienced politician, I am a soldier who was burned out by the violence I was forced to endure. Yet it gave me something, it gave me the status of a hero and I will use it to help you.”

One by one, her eyes moved to the occupants of the room.

“Hizuru needs a symbol, a figurehead to rally behind and I will be that for you. In return, you of the ruling council will help me in securing the peace I long for, by guiding me in these trying times. I do not care for the power that a status of the Shogun brings, I care for the possibilities it opens.”

“Such as?”, an old man spoke, guarded expression on his face.

“Paradis needs help. It is a powder keg that is bound to explode, if not today then tomorrow, if not now then in dozen years. I want to defuse it, and in return provide Hizuru with a stable and profitable partner.”

“How?”, the same old man questioned her.

"The feelings of supremacy and prejudice towards the outside world can be dispelled with only one thing – information. If we make the trade and people flow between our nations, they are bound to integrate into the society. Those who come here from Paradis will see that we are the same as them, those who move from here to the island will help them overcome their destructive mindset.”

“That is all very nice and all,”, a woman was speaking now, sitting next to Kiyomi, “but what is your guarantee that it will work out?”

"I have none, only the feeling that the world had enough death and destruction for a long, long time. I believe that the Yeagerists are scared, afraid of retaliation from the outside world, and if we don't do anything this fear will in time change into a deep hatred."

Another round of murmurs ran through the council before the old man spoke up again.

“It is nice that you have a plan for Paradis, but what about Hizuru? As a Shogun our nation should be of the uttermost interest to you.”

“I’m still learning about this nation, I am an outsider after all. I think that this opening of borders with Paradis will help us economically, and I can assure you that queen Reiss will be more than open to negotiation. The island is a goldmine, or do I have to remind you about all the iceburst stones?”

Playing on their greed – shifting in her seat Kiyomi couldn’t help but be impressed by how Mikasa was leading the council, and her speech was not done yet.

“Selling those is a very lucrative activity, and I am sure that I would be able to get us an exclusive partnership… With Paradis, I am very experienced, but the subtler points of ruling elude me.”, she bowed slightly towards the man, “That’s why I will leave a large part of power in your hands, esteemed council, because you will help with the best interests of Hizuru at heart.”

Even more murmurs appeared between the seated men and women as they realized what Mikasa was offering them. A leading figure while they would keep most of the power, something to rally behind and guide Hizuru out of this fractured state they found themselves in post rumbling.

“We will need to put this to more discussion and a vote.”, the old man took the word, “We thank you for your time, lady Mikasa, and will let you know of the result.”

With a last bow she left the council room, Eren in his Faceless uniform just a step behind her. Kiyomi watched them leave with a tight expression, very much knowing that once the door closes the eruption of words will be enormous. Taking a breath, she steeled herself, prepared to defend Mikasa’s points.

To a limit, of course.

It wasn’t until they reached the solitude of her chambers that Mikasa collapsed into Eren’s chest, emotionally exhausted.

“Do you think that we have a chance?”, she asked in a small voice.

“You presented yourself very well,”, he soothed her, rubbing small circles on her back, “They would be fools not to take you up on the offer.”

“You think so?”

“With you, the council can keep much more of the leverage than it had, and they are all power-hungry fools – let me remind you that Kiyomi told us these are the ones who tore the country apart.”

“That’s fine, but I have no intention of letting them turn me into a puppet.”

“I know that, Kiyomi knows that, but they don’t. They see an outsider that they can use as a symbol to say – we have this hero of the Rumbling on our side, rally behind her because she is among those who saved the whole world.”

“Officially, Armin is the one who killed you.”

“I know, but you were there with him.”

They stood in silence, hugging each other, until Mikasa spoke up.

“Can you remove your mask for a second?”

“Uhm, sure, but why?”

A snicker.

“I want to kiss you.”

“Just a kiss?”

“Don’t make me tear it off, Yeager.”

“I would not dare, my lady.”

It took several hours, and the day outside slowly progressed into the night. Mikasa was nervous, walking around her room like a caged tiger, replaying the conversation in her head and wondering if she could have said something different, something better. Eren watched her, unsure of how to calm the storm that she was, and in the end decided to just passively stand there and hide behind the Faceless mask. A bit of a cowardly move but he really didn't want to get in a fight with her, especially not now.

The tension was broken when the door slammed open, a red-faced courier appearing. From the way his chest heaved, it was easy to guess that he ran the whole way.

"Lady Ackerman,", he bowed low, "The council has reached a decision, if you would be so kind to accompany me?"

Self-consciously smoothing the wrinkles on her uniform that formed from all the marching, Mikasa nodded at the man.

“Lead the way.”

Every step bopped the heart farther up Mikasa’s throat, and not even Eren’s presence was enough to calm her. This is it – here she would find out what the future held for her.

In no way, shape or form would she ever go along with the marriage – either she gets what she wants or she and Eren are doing a dramatic and most likely bloody escape from the palace. And if they die, they can finally be free and together in the afterlife – Mikasa had no doubts that if there was a place after death, they would find each other again.

The door was familiar, even the guards who opened it for her, and Mikasa stepped into the room with Eren in tow. Eyes of everyone swung to her and the conversation halted – the expressions of the council members remained unreadable, even Kiyomi betrayed nothing.

"We have talked about your proposal extensively, lady Mikasa.", lord Sawamura began, "We weighed the pros and cons, went over everything you said slowly and carefully."

He looked her straight in the eye as he continued.

“You must understand that Hizuru is this council’s primary concern – no individual, no matter how big or small, can take precedence over the nation. In light of that, we have reached an almost unanimous decision.”

Mikasa held her breath, eyes instinctively searching for escape routes from the room. Behind her, a tiny clink could be heard as Eren's fingers curled around the handle of his sword. This did not sound good.

“And so with all that in mind,”, Sawamura went on, “The council has decided to…”

Half a step back, the door was right behind her, she could…

“…accept your offer, lady Mikasa.”

“I… W-What?”

“We will let you take up the mantle of the Shogun.”, Sawamura grimaced, “It wasn’t an easy call to make, but lady Azumabito was very vocal in her support.”

Kiyomi’s face didn’t move, remaining neutral.

"You will, of course, share most of the power with us, and all the decisions must be signed by the council before going public. We have decided to take this opportunity not only as a change of a Shogun but as a shift of our nation towards democracy…"

In other words, they were exactly as power-hungry vampires as Mikasa hoped them to be, but she couldn't care less. She listened as Sawamura went on but his words couldn't truly find purchase in the mush that her brain became. It worked – however bold and stupid her plan was, they went along with it.

It was over, finished, she had won, and everything else was worthless padding.

It wasn’t until about an hour later when she was permitted to leave. The council would continue in their session, most likely tearing up the power into small pieces and stuffing themselves full with it, and they didn’t need her to witness that. Elated to be free, at last, Mikasa took off in the direction of her chambers, feet beating the floor in a steady staccato.

“What’s the rush?”, Eren huffed behind her, burdened by his armor.

Checking left and right that they are alone, she stopped and turned, coming face to…. mask.

“I have been on the edge for several hours,”, Mikasa muttered in a heated whisper, “so we are going back to my room and there you will help me get rid of some of the frustration.”

She slapped his breastplate.

“And that’s an order, soldier.”

Despite the mask, she could hear the grin in Eren’s answer.

“Yes ma’am.”

He didn’t complain after that.

After everything coming together and an evening and a night of great pleasures, Mikasa expected a lot of happy reactions from her body – she didn’t expect to throw up in the morning.

Eren refused to stay away, holding her hair and rubbing her back while she retched into the toilet. One of the disadvantages of having long hair, it gets in the way.

“I’m sorry,”, she murmured once she could speak again, “I don’t know what came over me.”

“You are sorry because you are feeling sick, that’s…”, he chuckled, “that’s so you, Miki.”

Yet while Eren would be fine with just leaving it at that, knowing that Mikasa was exactly as boneheaded as him if she wanted to, their new patron disagreed. Kiyomi wouldn’t hear about just “walking it off”, that was literally the worst thing that she heard in a long time. Was that how they took care of their health on Paradis? Well, ultimately it didn’t matter as Mikasa was the future Shogun, and keeping her healthy was the old woman’s utmost priority. The doctor she summoned was probably the best in all of Hizuru and his prices reflected that, but money was not a concern anymore.

What a strange way to live, Mikasa thought to herself.

He was the perfect professional, examining Mikasa with quick and precise hands, all of it while Eren’s eyes never left him. The Faceless guard was truly expected everywhere, and the doctor didn’t have the slightest problem with him staying.

It didn’t take long, and when all of the symptoms and tests finished, he had exactly one thing to say.

“You are not sick, lady Ackerman.”

“No? Then what is happening to me?”

“I believe that congratulations are in order.”

That did nothing but confuse the poor girl even further.

“What?”

“You are pregnant.”

It took every single fiber in Eren’s body not to explode right there, his knuckles tightening so much that they cracked audibly. Kiyomi on the other hand had a completely different reaction.

“Pregnant? But how?”

The doctor sighed.

“Do I truly have to explain that?”

“What? No, no we… I mean…”

“Good, I’ll be taking my leave then.”

With a bow the man disappeared, leaving the three of them alone and finally giving Eren the chance to do what he wanted. Ripping his mask off and closing the distance to Mikasa in two steps he picked her up, spinning her around while laughing like a maniac. She was still half in disbelief, keeping silent.

Which was okay, because Kiyomi had a lot to say.

“Do you have to destroy everything that I plan?”

Eren was stuck in his happy place, content with laughing, so Mikasa answered for them both.

“It’s not like we planned it…”

“Of course you didn’t…”, Kiyomi rubbed her forehead, “This is so….”

“Great!”, Eren finished for her, “I can’t believe it!”

“Troublesome,” Kiyomi disagreed.

Deep in thought, she tapped her foot once, twice, three times before saying something that drastically changed the atmosphere in the room.

“You should get rid of it.”

“What?”

As gently as he could Eren set her down, getting between Kiyomi and Mikasa as if the old woman would charge her and try to carve the baby from Mikasa’s stomach.

“It’s the most logical way,” Kiyomi argued, “getting pregnant out of nowhere while not being married? It will bring nothing but trouble.”

“We are not getting rid of it.”, Eren cut her off before realizing that there was someone else in the room they should ask.

“Or… Are we?”, he turned to Mikasa, worry creasing his forehead.

She stared at him for a second, wondering if he just did that – if he asked: Do you want to get rid of something she and Eren created from their love, a proof oh much they adored each other, an offspring that would…

“No.”, she said out loud, “I don’t.”

The relief was visible on him, same as the irritation on Kiyomi.

“Oh good…”

“Lady Mikasa…”

“I’m not getting an abortion. Not an option.”

It was one of the fights that Kiyomi knew she could never win, so she did the smart thing and backed down before it even started.

Stupid kids. Dumb stupid kids risking everything just for… well… whatever. They wouldn't take the easy way out, and Kiyomi was stuck with them. Maybe she didn't like the plan at first, the way Mikasa led her in blind, manipulated her, but Kiyomi would be lying if she said that it wasn't impressive. For a former soldier who had no training in such things, guile and outsmarting came naturally to her.

More importantly, Kiyomi did like the girl, despite all her claims that this is all just for the greatness of the Hizuru nation. Mikasa was everything she wanted in a leader, or in the daughter that she never had. Which would, in some strange twisted way, make Kiyomi a grandmother, now that Mikasa was pregnant. Too bad that the child would be cursed with having Eren Yeager for a father, that guy could go burn in hell for all Kiyomi cared.

Anyway, if they didn’t want to get rid of the kid, there were certain changes to be made, to make sure that the plan didn’t go down in flames.

“Then we have to accelerate this whole thing.”, she said out loud.

“How so?”, Eren questioned her, still in that defensive stance between her and Mikasa.

Please, as if that girl ever needed protecting, the memory of her sweeping in and taking out half a room of armed men was still in Kiyomi’s memory. A nice gesture though.

“The preparations would normally take time, and Mikasa can hardly show herself on the day of her coronation day with a belly, can she?”

“Will the council accept this?”

“I don’t know, but I swear that I’ll do my damnedest to make them. Maybe I can twist it, paint the situation more desperate than it is, lie that the people are restless and that they demand the new Shogun to be crowned as soon as possible…”

“I’m going to start showing sooner or later…”, the to-be-Shogun peeped from behind her heroic protector, still in disbelief and staring down at her stomach, “How does this help?”

“Once you are the Shogun I can figure something out, but first we have to stick you up on that chair.”, she nodded at her, “One problem at a time.”

Slow and uncertain, Mikasa nodded back.

“One at a time.”

It would appear that while Kiyomi was anything but elated with her plan, she was going all-in right now. Same as the situation with Paradis – once she committed to a cause she was the best schemer and supporter one could ask for.

Excusing herself, Kiyomi left the two of them alone, already making a list of people she needed to talk to in her head.

The room grew quiet now that she was gone, the facts slowly anchoring themselves in their brains as reality.

“We are going to be parents.”, Eren finally said.

“So it would seem.”, Mikasa agreed in a whisper.

“And you are going to be a Shogun.”

“Yes.”

Turning around he pulled her into a hug that would be bone-crushing if used on anyone that wasn’t Mikasa Ackerman. She didn’t complain in the slightest, clutching to him with strength that squeezed the air out of Eren’s lungs.

“We are going to make it.”, he claimed, only for the statement to waver at the end, “Are we?”

She nodded against his chest, once again taking refuge in the beating of his heart.

“One thing at a time.”

The next ten days were one of the most chaotic that Mikasa ever lived through, and keep in mind that she was a survivor of not only a titan war but also an apocalypse. Kiyomi was a hyperactive bee, buzzing between the other council members and her at such speed that Eren wondered if she ever rested.

She didn’t.

There was hundred and one traditions Mikasa had to learn for the coronation process, a thousand dresses to try out, and million visits where she had to accompany Kiyomi while she convinced yet another noble that the ceremony should take place as soon as possible.

“If planning a wedding is anything like this,”, she hissed to Eren one day during the short break she had, shoveling food into her mouth “Then I’m never marrying you.”

“We are married already, did you forget?”, he grumbled from behind the mask that was his day-to-day accessory now, “Night under a tree, rings of grass, cracked bed frame… all that.”

“I wish this ceremony could also be made by weaving together a few blades. Do you think that I should ask Kiyomi about that?”

He chuckled.

“You can try.”

No, Kiyomi was not amused, and no, grass was out of the question. Very well.

Eren shadowed her almost everywhere, as a Faceless guard he was permitted to even the most private meetings. The other, true members of the order, didn’t give him any problems either, being exactly as obedient as Kiyomi described them. If the future Shogun wanted a fake to protect her, they had no issue with that. The orders were absolute.

Worst case scenario – the girl gets assassinated and then a new Shogun will be chosen, one that will respect the proper Faceless guard and not a wannabee.

And finally, it was here, the day D, the grand happening. Mikasa’s body moved mechanically through the ritual – every motion was explained and trained hundred times over until Kiyomi was satisfied. Still, it was fairly difficult in the ornamental kimono she had to wear, the damn thing was so heavy that she almost tripped several times, despite all the practice. Having a skirt around her legs made Mikasa wish for a good pair of pants too, but gender wouldn’t save her here. The men of the council also wore very similar robes. It was a small price to pay for getting things in motion though, so Mikasa gritted her teeth and carried on.

Eren was there as well, of course, and so was Kiyomi. The old woman stood among the council members, looking exactly as important as her fellow nobles, while Eren was hiding in the shadows, one of a long line of Faceless who guarded this ceremony. It would not be disturbed by anyone or anything, they made sure of that, and the number of guards played right into Mikasa’s hands. She could hide her lover easily now, he was nothing but another mask in the line, here to give his life in defense of the new Shogun.

Instructed by a priest that was so ancient that his skin resembled wrinkled paper, she repeated the words told to her, she bowed where required, and stood tall when it was time to show strength. She prayed to gods she didn’t know and showed respect to ancestors whose names Mikasa couldn’t even pronounce.

Several times the priest stopped and shook the incense he carried left and right, filling the air with its sweet smell. The council members watched every step like hawks, and she could feel their nervousness. It was one thing to talk about a foreign woman being elected as the head of state, it was another one to see it happening in front of their eyes. Luckily, she was prepared and did everything exactly as was expected, following the script to the letter.

Yes, it was one big theatre performance, but that didn’t matter to Mikasa at all.

Because when she finally sat down on the throne and looked over the council members, gathered there in front of her, Mikasa felt a huge weight fall from her chest. Her fights were still far from over, one might say. The position she was put in was anything but secure. Her pregnancy would complicate things, as would the fact that she had no intention of letting the nobles jerk her around. Eren's existence would have to be kept secret, same as the fatherhood of her child, and…

No, there would be time and place to worry about these things, and it was not now. One thing at a time, Kiyomi said, and Mikasa agreed with those words. The old woman was on her side, she had Eren right behind her, and a whole new culture to discover, one that her mother originated from. And as she adjusted her position on the throne, Mikasa Ackerman – the new ruler of Hizuru and the first female Shogun in the history of that nation – did that one thing that happened so rarely in her life.

Mikasa smiled - This was a beginning of a new adventure for them all.

[bard-llama]

WiP Wednesday: Distraction

I’m crazy busy this week (for my disabled ass. this is probably just how normal people’s weeks are), but here’s the start of a WiP I already have nearly done. This is Reynard/Gascon with Gascon being a Distraction TM while Reynard tries to work. XD

Reynard was not one for idleness. He always needed to be working, to be doing something.

Which was why he found himself antsy in the afterglow with Gascon, rolling over onto his stomach and pulling the latest trade agreement he needed to review across the bed. Gascon himself was half asleep, grumbling when Reynard moved away – but by now he knew that unless Reynard was going to sleep, he just couldn’t stay still enough for post-coital cuddles.

For around ten minutes, he actually got quite a bit of work done, underlining passages that he believed Meve should review and flagging a few things in the margins. This particular trade agreement was tricky, because it was with Temeria, and while Foltest was Meve’s cousin, he was not at all above slipping in clauses that rigged things to Temeria’s advantage. That was simply unacceptable, so even though Reynard would not usually review an economic policy – his specialty, after all, was war – Meve had asked him to take a look at this one, to comb through it and see what he could find.

As always, Reynard carried out his Queen’s orders without question – and as always, Gascon found a way to make his life more difficult.

“Pay attention to me,” Gascon demanded, kicking Reynard’s shin.

Reynard sighed. “I’m busy. Meve needs this reviewed as soon as possible. And I did just pay attention to you,” he pointed out. Quite a lot of attention, in fact. They’d spent the past hour pressed together, exchanging kisses and touches and everything else that was possible.

“Pay attention to me again,” Gascon pouted. Reynard knew he was pouting from the tone of his voice, but Reynard didn’t dare turn to check, because as soon as he did, he knew he would succumb. Gascon was very, very good at pouting and putting what he called his ‘puppy dog eyes’ to good use.

“After I finish this,” Reynard said reasonably. The trade agreement was definitely more urgent than Gascon’s constant attention-seeking and after what they’d gotten up to, surely even Gascon couldn’t get it up again this soon.

“Hmph,” Gascon grunted, and then there was weight across Reynard’s back as Gascon draped himself over his lover.

“Gascon,” Reynard growled, though in truth, the warm pressure against him felt nice. But it was important never to let Gascon get away with things – because otherwise he would never stop.

Gascon wiggled and shifted until he was comfortable, head resting on the small of Reynard’s back. And then he was quiet, for long enough that Reynard got through another page of the draft agreement.

Really, Reynard should have known better. A quiet Gascon always meant trouble. Gascon only ever went quiet when he was planning something – a fact Reynard abruptly remembered when Gascon moved again, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to his back and sucking a mark onto the skin.

Gasping softly, Reynard forced himself to focus. If Gascon could find a way to entertain himself, then all the better. Reynard was controlled enough that he could keep from getting distracted by a few soft touches.

He proved that as Gascon moved down the line of spine, sharp nips interspersed with soft licks and pleasant suction. Except Gascon kept moving down and soon–

“Spread your legs,” Gascon demanded, fingers dancing lightly over the globes of his ass.

“Seriously!?”

“Unless, of course, you’d like to pay me proper attention,” Gascon said firmly, voice a promise. “Spread your legs,” Gascon ordered, swatting the sensitive skin where thigh met ass.

Reynard jerked, following the instruction before he even had a chance to think about it, the light sting from Gascon’s hit sublimating into heat.

Gascon lay between his open legs, hands smoothing up his thighs and fondling his ass, and for a while, that was all the other man did. It was enough for Reynard to refocus on his work, crossing out a line that promised exclusive market rights for Temeria.

In fact, he’d almost finished the page when things changed. No longer content just to touch, Gascon kissed the curve of his ass lightly – and then bit down hard, making Reynard’s entire body twitch at the mix of pleasure/pain that sparked across his nerves.

“Gascon,” he growled, more than aware of the way Gascon enjoyed seeing his own marks on Reynard’s body.

Gascon laughed, entirely unrepentant. “Oh sorry, is that distracting?” he asked merrily, mockingly.

Gritting his teeth, Reynard promised himself that no, it wasn’t distracting. Whatever Gascon thought of to bother him, he would maintain his focus and get this trade agreement reviewed.

#throne3 #reynard x gascon #wip wednesday #thronebreaker #the witcher

[strangertheory]

I'd love for Will to be able to have the power of reality alteration because him being the most powerful one would be a very nice plot twist. But. Do you really believe they make him more powerful than El? I keep finding crazy comments on social media, suggesting it's the "El show" 😪 *sigh*. And I know some people who say it'd be anti feminist since Will is a boy. Thx

That’s a lot of interesting questions to think about.

I’ll attempt to address each thought that you’ve shared one at a time and provide you with my own opinions and theories about each:

You said: “I'd love for Will to be able to have the power of reality alteration because him being the most powerful one would be a very nice plot twist. But. Do you really believe they would make him more powerful than El?”

I have a lot of conflicted feelings about the way that the fandom often talks about characters’ powers and supernatural abilities in Stranger Things. (I also really dislike the way that the fandom has decided that they can’t appreciate and support both El and Will’s happiness and that their happy endings and successes are somehow mutually exclusive, but I’ll address the topic of their powers first.)

Fans often focus on the abilities and superpowers of characters as something desirable and cool but fans rarely spend time considering what it cost those characters to develop their abilities in the first place. Neither El nor Will suddenly woke up one day and had superpowers that they had conscious control over.

Certain impressive skills that people have in the real world might also be developed under extremely traumatic and undesirable circumstances and not because they wanted them: the powers represented so far in Stranger Things are very much like that variety of skillset.

El’s powers and her ability to control them are canonically shown to have manifested during her imprisonment, abuse, isolation, and manipulation at the Lab. As Kali says “They stole your life, Jane!” Due to El’s isolation from society and from love and affection and from having a family and from everything else in the world beyond the Lab she has a significant amount of early childhood social and psychological development that was stolen from her that she can never truly get back. A healthy, loving, safe environment for development and self-actualization that children deserve to have was not provided to El and she has suffered so much and she has had significant delays in her opportunity to grow and become her own person because of what was done to her. So yes, El has psychic powers that give her a variety of unique abilities that are very useful. But at what cost? If El were given the choice to abandon all of her powers in exchange for a loving family, a community of friends that she’d had the opportunity to know and spend time with since early childhood, a variety of passions and hobbies that she chose for herself over the years as she was growing up and engaging with the world, an extensive understanding of the world outside of the Lab based on her own exploration of the world and not only what people tell her or what she sees on television, and most importantly a sense that she is treated kindly because people truly love her and not because they want to exploit her and her powers for their own purposes: wouldn’t she make that trade?

Do I currently agree with the theory that Will’s subconscious mind created the Upside Down, the Mindflayer, the demogorgon, and even most probably created many other characters and fantastical plotlines that exist in the story? Yes. But I believe it has (so far) been unintentional, entirely subconscious, and is a mental coping mechanism in response to extremely traumatic circumstances that Will has faced throughout his life. Would Will’s subconscious mind creating significant parts of the Stranger Things universe represent a certain level of “power” that is greater than El’s? I don’t personally think they’re comparable. There are things that Will can probably do that El cannot, and vice versa. They will surely each have their own strengths and weaknesses and their own limitations that we may or may not always be shown in the series.

But what does "more powerful” really mean to us, and why does that question even matter? It was not El’s choice to have powers and it was not Will’s choice to have powers. Much of what I believe Will has incidentally created is creating a lot of confusion and suffering for him and for others that he cares about. If the story were about real people I’d be offended at the question of who’s more powerful and feel as though that question and debate is the sort that Dr. Brenner and his colleagues would have: “How useful is this child to me? Which child is more powerful?” I dislike the question because it feels like asking a parent which child is their favorite. I care about them both, and I don’t care about them because they happen to have superpowers: I care about them because they are nuanced characters that are very well-written and that I can empathize with as if they were real people. I respect why it’s a popular thing for fans to debate over which X-Men is the most powerful, for example, but that’s never been what draws me into scifi and fantasy stories. What characters choose to do under unusual circumstances and with unique resources (such as superpowers) is far more important to me than the nature and intensity of the powers themselves. I believe that the Stranger Things fandom does these beautifully written characters a disservice by focusing too heavily on their abilities and not enough on their feelings, choices, relationships, dreams, goals, and experiences that humanize them.

I love Stranger Things because of the humanity of each of the characters and not because some of them can throw cars through walls.

You said: “I keep finding crazy comments on social media, suggesting it's the "El show"”

El is definitely an important character in the story at this point in the show and she has some really fascinating abilities in the Stranger Things universe that often give her iconic moments and provide her an opportunity to be in the spotlight.

I believe that there is a reason that the writers have decided to develop many characters in the story and in my opinion it can seem hard to pin-point a “main” character at times. I think this is absolutely intentional on the part of the writers, and I predict that we will learn how Will’s, Hopper’s, and El’s storylines intersect in season 4. I think we will learn something new about each of the characters.

I do not personally believe that it is the “El show” any more than it could be argued that this is the “Steve show” or the “Hopper show.” But I do appreciate that fans have grown to love El’s character.

I strongly disagree with anyone in the fandom that insists that Will is not important. I can tell that the way that he was quieter in season 3 inspired some fans to dismiss his role in the series entirely, but I think they’re mistaken. Quiet and less assertive doesn’t mean irrelevant in a story like this one. I believe that much of what Will has been through is at the heart of the entire series, and I think that he will play a very critical role in future seasons. If some fans passionately dislike Will then they might need to steel themselves for some severe disappointment.

You said: “And I know some people who say it'd be anti feminist [for Will to be more powerful than El] since Will is a boy." 

I would argue that El embodies many traits that are often presumed to be stereotypically masculine by certain incorrect and outdated schools of thought: assertiveness, the ability to win in combat, determination, resilience, and bravery (among others.) There were eras in which these traits were not always valued and respected in women, and arguably there are still many circumstances under which they still aren’t. El is a complex character who is not written as a gender stereotype and I think that is powerful and important.

We need more characters of many different genders that are written as people. Complex, multi-faceted, and capable of many different things regardless of their gender.

Yes. Will is a boy.

Will is a young boy who has been bullied for having certain traits that are very often stereotypically seen by society as feminine. As being “womanly.”

I believe that feminism needs to be intersectional and seek to address the ways that all people and all genders are harmed by a society that devalues women and devalues traits, work, and skillsets that are associated with femininity.

Feminism should not be reduced and oversimplified to “girl power.” Anyone that reduces feminism to that does not, in my opinion, understand feminism.

“Feminism is the belief in the social, economic, and political equality of the sexes.”

Devaluing admirable traits when someone of one gender expresses them but then deciding to value those exact same traits when they are expressed by a person of a different gender is prejudiced and anti-feminist because it maintains the false idea that certain traits only have value in people if they are a specific gender. 

El is a wonderful, empowering character and I appreciate that she is very well written and admired by many fans. But I worry when certain fans are more willing to appreciate a kick-ass fictional young woman that defies outdated and incorrect gender stereotypes but are not also willing to embrace gentler, more sensitive, less stereotypically masculine young men like Will with similar enthusiasm and affection.

Will is bullied and devalued by his small-town community for having traits and interests that are perceived as feminine and therefore, according to closeminded bigots like his dad, not allowed and are deserving of abuse and bullying. Will is arguably also devalued and dismissed by the Stranger Things fandom because he has traits that are perceived as feminine and undesirable in a young teen guy in the eyes of certain fans, too.

The devaluing and dismissal of gentle, kind, emotional young men is a feminist issue.

A character doesn’t have to be a girl in order to represent feminist ideals within a story. I know that there are probably plenty of feminists that will disagree with me (because there will always be people with their own opinions) but I strongly believe that Will's story is feminist as it has been explored so far (just as El's is.)

Anyone in the fandom that considers themselves a “Feminist” but that spends significant amounts of time criticizing Will Byers by dismissing him as “boring” and criticizing him for being quiet, sensitive, gentle, and emotional should take a good look in the mirror and reflect on what their personal brand of feminism stands for and whether their goal truly is “the equality of the sexes” or if their goal is simply hating men and only valuing and promoting stereotypically masculine traits in our society.

Feminism’s goal is not to make women more powerful than men or to make men less powerful than women, it is about the promotion of the “equality of the sexes.” 

Stereotypes are constructs our society has built and that impact the way we all currently relate to each other. Until society stops treating traits associated with society's currently constructed idea of femininity as something weak or bad then it is important to appreciate these traits in characters of many different genders and to value these traits in men (both in real life and in fictional stories) too. Anyone of any gender can be sensitive and sensitivity should not be seen as a weakness but rather as a strength and as something that's a valuable aspect of our humanity, and the same can be said for many other beautiful traits that society has wrongly decided to put into boxes and assign gender stereotypes to.

This complicated topic is incredibly important to me as a fan of both El and Will. I believe that both El and Will are feminist characters and that the series is very empowering and is challenging society’s gender biases through both of their stories. I hope that my response to your question was successful in communicating how I feel and resonates with you and with perhaps other fans who also care about El and Will and feel their own experiences, feelings, and identities validated by their story arcs.

Will some fans still whine and cry “sexism” and attempt to brand Stranger Things as “anti-feminist” if their hope that El will be the solo main character of the story and not have to share the spotlight with a boy is dashed? Sure. But I think they’re wrong, that their concept of feminism and sexism is incorrect, and that their priorities and their understanding of El’s value as a character is unfortunate. El is more than her superpowers. El doesn’t need to be “the strongest” or “the most powerful” in order to be an inspiring, complex, well-written, relatable, and empowering character.

Thank you for your Ask! I hope you don’t mind how long this response is. You mentioned a few things that I have some very complicated opinions about.

#will byers #el hopper #stranger things #stranger things analysis #stranger things theories #will byers is a feminist character #el hopper is a feminist character #feminism is for everyone

[amarauder]

Criminal Girl Relates to Garfield - Percy Jackson x Reader

                                005. criminal girl relates to garfield 

PAIRING; High School AU!  Percy Jackson x Reader

REQUEST; Not Applicable

GODLY PARENT; Not Applicable

DATE; June 12th, 2020

WORD COUNT; 8053

WARNING; Bruh so freaking much. friends and families being dicks, panic attacks, crying and pubic humiliation, you're gonna read this and just keep cringing because of reader's dumb ass.

A/N; I think I like High School and Soulmate AUs too much. This isn't a soulmate AU. It was going to originally be but it just didn't match with the plot so I didn't. Still this is my first one and I had so much fun writing it. I think I just related to this reader more than normal. I think this is my favorite one shot to be honest. I'm so happy, I feel like I've fallen in love with writing again. The last few one shots I've just had the best time writing them and it's been difficult to stop writing.

TRAILER; Reader is Percy Jackson's soulmate, potentially a criminal and more than kind of cute.

REQUESTED BY; Not Applicable

-

Y/N was more than ready for this week to be over. It had started out horribly and only got worse as the days ran their course.

On Monday her Aunt's insane dog, that she had been forced to dog sit, had torn up her favorite shirt. On Tuesday she had forgotten her entire binder at home and received zeros on all of her assignments, and then one of her exams for being blamed for talking when it had really been the kid behind her. On Wednesday, Y/N was supposed to be presenting one of the most important projects of the entire semester in her first period only for her car refusing to start. Of course, when her Dad came home it ran perfectly. Thursday she had found out her position as President of the Economics Club had been handed over to some kid she didn't even know, despite how long she had been working for it. Friday, she had found out her best friend since kindergarten had lied to her face and was hanging out with a girl she loathed.

Her best friend ditching her had hurt her the most. It left an ugly slimy feeling in her chest that felt like some kid attempting to learn CPR for the first time, except she was the mannequin every time she thought of them hanging out together. Despite the chest compression, her self-depreciating thoughts never seemed to leave her. It was like she was trying to torture herself which didn't hurt any less.

To say the least, Y/N was completely drained. Blinking took way too much effort, and yawns seemed to be effortless. The kind of tired that took over after crying too much, so stress relieving that the tightness in her chest released, leaving her slap happy.

After grabbing two boxes of mac and cheese and a huge jug of orange juice, Y/N was on her way to her car. The bagger asked her if she needed any help carrying everything to her car.

She stared blankly at him for a few seconds before looking at her three items. He smiled sheepishly and Y/N felt fortunate to have been blessed with more brains than him.

It wasn't until she reached her car and caught sight of her reflection that she wondered if he had asked because she looked so miserable.

His so called thoughtfulness really didn't make her feel any better. In fact she felt worse. It was like when her Mother's wine group would come over and compare stories of who had been more disrespected. From grocers deciding they were age appropriate to buy wine without asking for an ID to being called Ma'am instead of Miss, Y/N had heard it all. Somehow it all had to do with old age and the grocery store. The wonders of Motherhood in the suburbs.

Placing her groceries on top of her car, she tried to unlatch the trunk. It wouldn't budge.

Hmm, Y/N was pretty sure she had left her it unlocked. Whatever. She wouldn't put it past herself if she had forgotten to lock it.

But when she tried to unlock it, nothing happened. Her car didn't beep or flash it's stupid lights, or anything. The battery in her key had been flickering on and off all week, it was the reason her car wouldn't start on Wednesday morning. But her Dad had said it had at least a few months of life left, not three days.

Her stomach dropped and she felt unshed tears build up in her eyes. Not now, not today. She had enough this week.

Her thumb hovered over the unlock button once more. Y/N almost didn't want to press it, because that would mean finding out her fate and she just wasn't that kind of girl.

She did it anyway. And the old piece of junk sat there like it was ready to retire to the car graveyard. Y/N wasn't ready for her freedom to retire so quickly.

Feeling her tears build up again, more rapidly this time, she dug the palm of her hand into her eyes and leaned against the car. Her throat tightened. She promised herself she wouldn't cry anymore today. She promised...

"You're okay, you're okay, you're okay," she whispered to herself, her voice to low to crack. Face screwed shut and her toes curled to will the tightness in her throat away.

The tears eventually made it through which only made her want to cry harder. She was so embarassed. Thoughts ran wild, making her panic harder to control.

How was she going to get home?

How was she going to pay for her car to be fixed?

She really didn't want to go back to walking.

Wouldn't her parents be mad?

What if this was one of those stupid kidnapping schemes that she had seen during a school assembly?

Don't be stupid. Calm down. Focus.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw a lady with her dog, eye Y/N warily. A man sitting in his car with his feet propped up on the dashboard and a cigarette hanging between his finger laughed at her despair then ended up in a coughing fit. A woman ushered her child away, who was pointing at her, and gave Y/N a dirty look.

Y/N remained like that until her Mother's advice that she never took to heart rang through her, "Pick yourself up. Stop feeling sorry for yourself. Life isn't that hard."

She was right and Y/N wiped her tears away hurriedly.

As the knots in her stomach washed away, a new one settled it self in her chest. She was pissed. Furious at life for making her feel like shit, betrayed by her best friend, grades flustering down to nothing, and a position she worked harder than anything in the world for was snatched away before she could even think of savoring it.

It was just shit and completely unfair.

Wiping her tears, Y/N turned towards the driver's handle and pulled on it so hard, that her feet started to slip and she fell on her but.

She could have screamed, but instead she started to curse loudly and kick her car still laying down. She just about to kick the car for the sixth time when someone said behind her, "Uhh, hey, it would be really cool if you could stop trying to destroy my car? I don't know what he did to you, but at this point I think you're in danger of giving him PTSD."

Turning around, she noticed a blurry figure. Tears were still in her eyes making it hard for her to make out who it was but she could tell closing her eyes that he felt awkward. Hell, her guardian angel, no devil at this point, probably felt awkward.

When she blinked her tears away she saw him look suprised, and stumble back a few steps as if her presence shocked him. Which was stupid because unless there was some other person trying to break into the car, she didn't know why he was acting like she had come out of nowhere.

"This is my car, dude."

The teen scratched his neck, then pressed his car keys and suddenly the piece of junk came to life. She blinked hard, trying to comprehend what had just happened in front of her.

A flash of heat surged up her body that couldn't have came up from the exhaust pipe right next to her. She couldn't have been more aggravated and embarrassed. The guy seemed to realize that, because he shifted his weight to his side as he glanced at her. He was right, she was an idiot.

Quickly mumbling an apology, she ran off into the parking lot. Her car had to be around here somewhere and Y/N had never been more than ever determined to find it, or maybe just determined to get away from this situation as soon as possible.

She found it in the exact same spot, just a few rows away. Her brain kept replaying and replaying her embarrassing moment over and over again, leaving her to cringe and try to shoo it away.

If there was a list for the most embarrassing things Y/N had ever done, this would be on the top of the list. She could imagine herself years later, watching her husband struggling to change their kid's diaper as she laughed and talked about this. But right now all Y/N wanted to do was forget that she even existed.

It almost funny the amount of relief she felt just to have her car unlock. Her car, her piece of junk did it's little half-hearted beep, but it sounded rejuvenated as if it knew what she had gone through just for it.

She started the engine, and then let her forehead rest against the wheel in relief. At least that went well.

She was in the middle of her breather when a knock on her window startled her. Y/N took a few more seconds to herself before looking up and seeing the boy from before looking more awkward than when she he was before.

She rolled down the window, and right when he opened his mouth to speak the engine died.

"No," she whispered to herself, her stomach sinking, "No, no, no."

"Um, here's your groceries?" the boy said with a smile, but Y/N only opened the engine after getting out of her car. He stood there for a second before setting them inside the drivers seat and following her. He leaned over the hood and started to hack violently. The engine was fuming and Y/N wanted to cry for what seemed the millionth time that day. "Did you beat this one up too?"

She gave him a look but he only smiled sheepishly, "Sorry, it just slips out sometimes."

"It's okay... You're a boy."

The boy smiled. Did she just notice now? "Nice observation."

"Do you know anything about cars?"

"I know they aren't supposed to smell like that."

Pursing her lips, she rolled her eyes, "Thanks, so helpful."

"I try."

Letting out a laugh of disbelief, she leaned against the car and groaned. What was she going to do know? Even though breaking into the guys car was one of extremely embarrassing, she had been filled with a little bit of hope. The shitty day would end and she could go home. But now... There was no decent solution.

"Umm, would you want a ride in my car?" Y/N raised an eyebrow and he tried to hurriedly explain, "It's just I saw the sticker on your back window and we go to the same school. My Mom would kill me if I just left you here, so..."

-

The car ride home was so awkwardly silent, Y/N had even asked for his name.

"Percy Jackson," he said and flashed her a smile that she didn't return. She was too tired, and this guy was too happy. He probably shit out sunshine rays and Y/N just... was not about that life. Plus, his name sounded irkingly familiar, as if he had been in one of her previous classes.

"Nice to meet you," she said after a while, her imaginary Mother shaking her fist at the girl during that silent moment, "I'm Y/N L/N."

"Y/N," he repeated, and she almost looked for that feeling that all her friends talked about. The one where their stomachs churned pleasantly and it seemed that they don't even remember what happened before and after seeing him. All the memories from that day were separate. The life they knew before and after her friends met the one. But there was nothing, no shocking realization or fireworks. She could have just met Zeus himself and Y/N wouldn't be able to tell the difference. "Nice name."

"Thanks," she whispered quietly and played with the hem of her shoe. She had originally placed it on the dashboard but Percy sucked in a harsh breath and then the foot was back balancing on her thigh.

"Ya," and then it was awkward silence again.

Inside her mind, Y/N was cringing. This boy was nice, way too nice, and probably the most good looking kid she had ever seen. It was a wonder how she had never noticed him, or at the very least seen him around her school. Now, she had murdered his car, almost broke into it, screamed at him about her engine, and he decides to drive her home because well, she didn't know. It shouldn't matter because she was just repaying him by being awkward.

"Umm, why are you being so nice to me?"

What? God, why was she such a nerd? And an introvert. She needed to go out more.

"Uh," he said and glanced at her as she pointed to the left and he put his blinker on, "I don't know what you mean."

"I beat up your car, probably would have made the stupid alarm go off if you hadn't stopped me and then you follow me to give me my groceries that I had forgotten. My car doesn't start and you offer me a ride home even though you don't know my name." Y/N finished with a huff. Surprisingly, she felt better as if she had just finished crying and got it all off her chest.

"So?"

"So? It's not very high-school boy of you."

Percy laughed, "Well, I'll try harder to be more high school boy if you want."

"No, I like whatever you've got going on here," She said and waved her hand at him.

"Good. I don't feel like pulling over and dropping you off at a random street. Besides, Mom would be pissed at me. When I tell her what happened today, because I'm sorry but I have too. She's going to wonder what took me so long. But, umm," he paused for a second to collect his thoughts, "When I tell her what happened, she's gonna ask if I brought you home or not, and this way I won't have to lie."

He flashed another smile at her and she felt a slight tingle on her face that her friends talked about. But then again, maybe it was her nose going numb from the air conditioning. It was like this boy secretly lived in Alaska. "I'm a shit liar, by the way."

"Couldn't have guessed."

"What gave me away?"

Y/N stared at him for a second before laughing, "You said it."

He had the audacity to look embarrassed, yet please at the same time. "Well, you looked like you needed some cheering up."

Her laugh died from her eyes as the words sunk in. It was not the first time Percy put his foot in his mouth, sometimes he wished he could actually think before he would speak. He would try, but it's not socially acceptable at his age for long periods of silence in between conversations to take place so he can run over his words.

She huffed and crossed her arms, and it felt like Percy's insides were crushed between the space of her chest and twisted limbs. His hands tightened on the steering wheel. He gave her a gentle little thing that somewhat resembled the corner of his lips titling up.

Percy didn't know her at all, but she seemed like the girl that was disappointed with the world. Y/N was too pretty to be disappointed. Percy's Mom had always told him that the prettiest people in the world were dreamers, and the world never held up to their expectations.

Percy didn't really like that for Y/N.

She glanced at him from the corner of her eyes, her face never wavering from the road ahead.

"Umm, what's your favorite animal?"

He took Y/N so off guard that she answered, "A cat."

"Why a cat?"

Y/N hesitated, who questions their favorite animal? "Umm, because I relate to them, I think."

"Why because you like lasagna and are scared of accordions?"

"I'm sorry, what?" He had her full attention now. She wasn't even trying to pretend to be mad at him. Her entire body, despite the restrictions of the seatbelt, was turned towards him.

"Have you never heard of Garfield?"

"Of course, I have." Y/N answered, "Who hasn't? But I thought Garfield was scared of scales and diets."

"He is. But he's also scared of accordions. I have to impress you with my extensive Garfield knowledge somehow right?" Y/N snickered, her fingers massaging her forehead. This boy was something else, she liked it.

"Well, do you relate to Garfield?" he asked a minute later.

Y/N laughed so hard that the back of her head hit the seat and she snorted, which only set her into another laughing fit. "I'm sorry," she said still giggling a little bit, "It's just who relates to Garfield?"

"A girl who tries to break into cars, I guess."

Y/N didn't think Percy had it in him to be so sarcastic. After spending a little under fifteen minutes with him, she had judged him as the boy who apologized despite doing nothing wrong and had fallen in love with his best friend but would never tell them. The boy who lived next door type.

He was sweet, and funny, and so incorrigibly cute that Y/N was shocked that she had been able to have a decent conversation with him.

So, she did what she did best with cute boys: pretend she wasn't attracted to them.

She shoved his arm even though he was driving, ignored him after with a fake pout, and even refused to say goodbye to him as she got out of the car. He had laughed at all of her antics and kept repeating his goodbyes over and over, getting louder and louder with each one.

After the door was shut, she snuck over to the window where the curtains were drawn and peeked through. He was still there, staring at the door. She watched him until he drove off.

A surreal giggle peeked through her, her smile seeming unable to wipe off. Her body thrummed with energy. For the first time in a while, her chest felt light and airy, as if drugged with hope.

-

The magical energy in the form of Percy Jackson had worn off by the time school started that Monday. She had gotten to school as late as possible that day, her stomach twisting and turning itself. The last thing Y/N wanted to do was see her best friend. Y/N had ignored her the entire weekend, all her calls and texts had gone ignored. Her own actions had almost been surprising to her, she had a knack for forgiving others who didn't deserve her mercy. Y/N supposed she had finally had enough.

Fortunately, she had gotten through the entire first half of the day without seeing her by ignoring her texts and calls, dodging her attempts at meeting Y/N at her own locker, and even purposely coming into Y/N's class with the excuse of office aid.

It was now lunchtime and Y/N was lucky enough to have her first meeting of the Environmental Club scheduled today. Her best friend would never even think of stepping in here, Y/N had too many good friends who would love to give her a good shove.

Even though she was thankful to have somewhere to hide from her friend, Y/N was anxious to enter the classroom. Her nerves felt fuzzy from toes to her hairline, which only made her more nervous. Y/N had a habit of stumbling over her words when she was nervous, and she did not need that today.

The meeting room was just an empty classroom with her biology teacher from freshman year eating a sandwich in the corner of the classroom. Y/N was almost 100% sure he was a biker version of Santa Claus. Sure, he was a lot less generous with his grades, but he looked exactly like the Santas at the mall just with tattoos and a tommy bahama shirt.

The turnout varied. There were the usual, Y/N, Triton the President of the club, this random freshman named Tyson, Grover and his girlfriend. That was about it. Sometimes it was just them. Other times, usually when there was pizza, a lot more people showed up.

Today was one of those days. A group of giggling freshman girls eyed Triton appreciatively, while a girl named Ella and Tyson went over notes in the corner. Grover smiled and waved from the pizza stand and Y/N grimaced but waved back.

Gods, this was going to be at the top of her list of embarrassing moments, right next to having a mental breakdown with Percy's car.

Triton started off the meeting with his usual greetings of putting Y/N in charge. He grinned down at her menacingly once he announced she would be taking over the rest of the meeting. She had never wanted to flip off someone so much that Y/N pressed her hand against her thigh and flipped him off secretly.

Triton moved off the stand and sat on his phone by Tyson and the freshman girls, they giggled and moved closer to him.

She rolled her eyes and smiled at everyone from the platform despite her trembling fingers and her tongue feeling as if it weighed tons.

Y/N tried to focus on the light from the windows lighting up dust like tiny stars and the way the crank from the air conditioning reminded her of boring days in this classroom where there wasn't the threatening future looming over her.

Triton expected her to announce her own failure. She wanted to cry.

Triton was the biggest asshole she had ever met. He had been held back so many times that no one truly knew how old he was, and nobody dared to ask. The one thing he somewhat cared about was this club. He had been President for the past how many years he had been here despite that he did nothing.

As it was her Senior year and Y/N had never worked so hard to keep a club going, she decided to run for President. It turned out that Triton was finally graduating but it never occurred to him that he would have to give up his position. Y/N had never seen him so mad in her life, and he decided to punish her for his graduation.

She took a breath and smiled at everyone. She could do this. "Hey guys. So thank you for coming today. Pizza will be served at the end of the meeting, as per usual." She said and leaned against the podium. Her voice was shaking but Y/N had to pretend she didn't realize for her own sanity. Looking more casual would hopefully calm her down. Maybe looking around the crowd would help. "Umm, today we are revealing next year's President which is really exciting-" As people started to clap, she choked on air, and suddenly she was stuck in a coughing fit struggling to catch a breath. Percy had been sitting in the back. They had made eye contact and then she had forgotten how to breathe.

Hands were on her back, and she was guided outside the classroom then sat down by the lockers. The feet left and she coughed some more but it died down. The tickle in her throat felt like someone was itching her throat with a feather. Y/N had to clear her throat multiple times to try to get it to go away but nothing worked. Her lungs burned as she filled them with air. She felt her hands shaking violently again and she leaned her head against the lockers.

She hadn't even gotten to the announcement part.

A water bottle was handed to her but she didn't move to open it. Pretty, tan hands did it instead, she watched them languidly.

"I think I have a knack for creating your breakdowns," Percy said with a smile. She looked up at him with her hand still against the locker. Her lips felt too heavy to give him a real smile, so she settled for a shuddering breath and closed her eyes. "I don't know about you, but sleeping in the hallways isn't really ideal."

Y/N snorted and her chest fluttered. She sat up then and took the water. Her throat was so parched it burned as the water went down.

"Ya, I'm not one for naps on floors that haven't been cleaned since the school opened either. Just when I start yacking so hard, you have to bring me outside."

Percy laughed and it was so contagious that she caught herself giggling with him.

"How's Garfield?"

"Garfield?" Y/N questioned.

"Ya, you know," Percy said and stuffed his hands into his hoodie. She wondered how often he did that. "Garfield, your car."

"What?" Y/N said laughing as she looked at him. He was already looking at him and Y/N hurriedly turned towards the lockers in front of her again. Yay, now she made things even more awkward. But Y/N couldn't help it, he really liked eye contact and Y/N didn't. End of story. "I've never named my car anything."

"I had a feeling. You don't seem the type, so I named him for you. Garfield in honor of your favorite animal."

Y/N hit him with the water bottle. If any other person had done this, then they probably would have remembered to put the cap on. It was too bad she was a world class idiot. However, to her horror, Y/N had only realized that would happen once it did.

"Shit, I'm so sorry." Y/N scrambled around for anything to dry the water with but all she found was a disgustingly dirty straw wrapper and a dried piece of gum. Y/N didn't know him that well, but she figured he wouldn't want to use that. She settled for using her own shirt instead.

Percy was laughing the entire time, and was pushing away her hands. It was like Percy was made just to embarrass her, as if baby bunnies were going to die everyday if she didn't embarrass herself every time he was around. "Y/N, Y/N," he repeated, grabbing her hands and placing them in his lap, "It's fine." She wouldn't look up at him and continued to look at their hands. He was so close to her that her focus had gone out the window. Her hands were abuzz and Y/N felt another coughing fit coming along.

It was just like her friends had explained. Oh god, it was exactly the same. Her tirade of a crush smashing Y/N with the weight of it.

"Y/N, I don't care honestly," her heart pounded in her throat and Y/N started to laugh nervously. She was screwed. "If anything it will just piss off Octavian which makes this even better." Percy said, mistaking her panic for spilling water on him. Gods, he probably thought she was a freak.

Fortunately, Grover came into the room. She had never been more thankful for him, Y/N had a feeling that if Percy spend anymore time this close to her she was going to either faint or have another coughing fit, maybe even both. "Come on, Percy. Triton just announced that you were President, he wants a little speech."

"Speech?"

Grover shrugged, "That's what he said. Although, I have a feeling that you could tell him that the world was dying and he would be crying tears of happiness."

He patted Y/N's head, and she tried to engrain this feeling into her brain. "You'll be fine right."

She nodded, and his hands left her. It was like a light switch had turned on and suddenly her brain started working again.

Y/N grabbed Percy's wrist before he left, "You're the President."

Percy nodded and Y/N muttered a little, "Oh," under her breath. She didn't know quite how to feel anymore. How had she not noticed before? It must have been why his name sounded so familiar, but she couldn't put a finger on where she had remembered him from.

Percy went to kneel next to her again, but Grover cleared his throat. He looked torn, and looked at Y/N then Grover and back again before leaving with a hand on her shoulder. She didn't shy away but wouldn't look at him either.

Just as they crossed the threshold Y/N heard Grover tell Percy that Y/N was supposed to be President. Her lip quivered, but she pressed them together. She could practically feel Percy's glance at her. She wanted to hit Grover in the back of the head and also wanted to run away. If she wasn't so emotionally drained she probably would have.

-

Y/N met her fate at the end of the third period. Her next class was a free period, fortunately. It gave her just enough time to wait in line for the food line.

"Hey, criminal girl," someone whispered into her ear. She just about jumped four feet.

She turned around to see Percy. Her chest hurt a little, and she wasn't sure it's from the scare or Percy giving her all of his attention. Y/N settled for both.

"Umm, hey," she said and eyed the two boys behind him. The pair looked almost identical, except for their different sized scars on their face, and the one on the left was taller. They were giggling like elementary school children and making suggestive faces at her. "What are you doing here?"

"Hoping to cut in line with you," Percy says, a plea in his voice.

Y/N meant in a general, in a what are you doing here talking to me? kind of way. If Y/N were Percy, she would have stayed as far away from his as possible. But then again, she knew that wasn't true. Percy could have told her he was half god and the son of the god of fish poop and Y/N would have swooned.

"What are you doing here?"

She gave him a look when he started to snicker, then marched past him and threw out her hand with a smile, "Y/N L/N."

Both boys looked shocked that she had started to talk to them and Y/N couldn't lie. She was just as surprised by her actions. Fortunately, they didn't seem to mind and kickstarted into action. The taller one of the left with a faded scar running down the side of his face said, "Luke Castellan. Nice to meet the girl Perseus hasn't stopped talking about for the last few days."

"Your name is Perseus?" Y/N asked a shit eating grin creeping up her face. Percy looked like he just found out Gaea was coming after him. She turned back to the Luke kid who had turned red from trying not to laugh, "I want to personally thank you for that information. It's priceless."

Percy grumbled.

"Hey Y/N," the other one said. She was surprised he knew who she was. Jason was less boisterous than the other two, but still just as mischievous. He had a a type of quiet confidence and grace to him that made her want to hang onto every word she gave him. Y/N also spent a day with him each month, trying to figure out the balance of money she could spend on the club. "So, you're the girl who tried to steal the piece of junk."

"Hey!" Percy exclaimed, "Leave Blackjack out of this!"

"Blackjack?" Y/N questioned.

"My car," Percy said softly to her then scratched his neck.

She laughed quietly, then studied the three boys. "Are you two related?" Y/N asked and pointed to Jason and Luke.

"Nah, I'm dating Jason's sister but Percy and Lightning Skull over here are cousins."

Y/N nodded, processing this information. How had she not seen Percy around? Jason Grace was the Senior Class President, she had to attend monthly meetings to go over the Environmental Club treasury.

A voice cut through their conversation, making Y/N look over Luke's shoulder to see who it was. Piper McClean, the TV anchor and Speech and Debate finalist was walking over with a smile. Her grin was directed at Jason, but just being in the crossfire felt like a gift.

It seemed Jason felt that way too because he suddenly straightened up and turned red in under 2.5 seconds. He walked away with a halfhearted gesture that could have passed as a wave goodbye.

Luke snickered then pointed towards the potential couple with his thumb, "I'm gonna go find Thals while the idiot is love sick."

The line had moved up while Y/N had been distracted, and she flashed a smile at her fellow seniors then ran up to join Percy. He was already forking out some money to pay for whatever food he wanted.

"They seem nice."

"Hmm," Percy said, not looking up from his wallet, "Oh, ya. I've known Jason since Summer and Luke for even longer."

"I thought you and Jason were cousins."

"We are," Percy said and smiled triumphantly when he found a ten dollar bill. She couldn't help but bask in her contentment. Her breaths were coming in deeper and easier. She felt like she had fallen into Sally from Spongebob's little bubble house, there were no threats to take away this short-lived happiness at the moment. "My Dad and my uncle don't get along. Besides, my Dad left when I was young. It wasn't until Jason came over the Summer after meeting at Summer camp and my Mom hugged him for longer than normal that she told us."

Y/N didn't know what to say. She was fortunate enough to have all her family members with her, it wasn't perfect and her parents seemed to really adore fighting. But something is better than nothing. "Shit," she paused, "I know we don't know each other too well, but I'm sorry, Percy."

Percy shrugged with a smile. His hands were buried deep into his hoodie. He looked like the main protagonist in some cheesy coming of age movie, where a cheerleader decides to scoop up the hot but oddball kid in her Shakespeare class. "I mean, you can't really miss something you never had."

Y/N tilted her head from side to side and considered his words, "I never thought of it that way."

"That's why I am known as a secret genius in these halls."

Y/N laughed, "Known? My ass." She was impressed with herself. Y/N hadn't embarrassed herself yet, and she even had introduced herself to one if his friends.

"No one's gonna know the new kid."

Now, that took Y/N by surprise, "You're new? That makes so much more sense." She leaned her head against her hand which was resting on the sill of the window as they finally reached the front of the line.

It was why she had never noticed him before, why Jason and Luke were hanging out together, why Percy knew Jason. It just all seemed to connect under seconds.

"Hey Rachel!" Y/N grinned, perking up from seeing her old friend. Rachel had been on her sports team freshman year. Y/N spent most of her time on the bench, still did, but Rachel had been there along with her so it was okay. She was a good friend and an even funnier person. Rachel had no licensee, which left Y/N's sophomore season screaming the entire way to their away games.

"Hi," she smiled and Y/N wanted to laugh. Rachel's smile was incredibly contagious, something about it being too mischievous to be anything good. "What can I get for you two?"

They ordered and Rachel nor Percy wouldn't let her pay. "It will make your payment easier for breaking into my car. Then you can drive me home and buy me lunch. Maybe even a little beating up the car sesh."

Y/N looked at Rachel wide eyed. Her heart picked up at the thought of spending time with him outside of school. "You never said anything about a repayal." She objected, and tried to swipe food from him.

He pivoted and held everything over his head, out of her reach. She crossed her arms and glared at him. His green eyes twinkled, and she marveled at how shockingly handsome he was. It truly wasn't fair. If she had his beauty, she would have used it to her advantage but then again, he probably does.

"Well, you kind of beat up my car, criminal girl. I was hoping for at least a thank you."

Y/N rolled her eyes. He had this way of backing her into her own corners. He turned his back and continued his purchase, shooting a victorious look over his shoulder as the receipt printed out.

Y/N stood alone by the cashier for a whiplashed moment. Jesus Christ. What the fuck was going on? She felt like she was meeting Percy over again. He acted so differently than when he was in the car.

It was like she'd been sucked into a tornado, tossed around, and then spit out alone in the front of the lunch line.

He threw away the cover at the trashcan and Y/N reluctantly walked up next to him, the condiments were right next to the trash can. He grinned at her and she struggled not to return it. "We're going to spend a lot more time together, so you're going to have to turn that frown upside down."

Y/N snickered and elbowed him. He grinned and leaned against the trash can. She eyed him and wrinkled her nose. So disgusting.

He quickly got off it, as if he hadn't realized what he was going. Percy brushed off the sleeve of his hoodie then smelled it. It only made Y/N laugh harder and shake her head. "What do you mean spend more time together?"

"Well, one you owe me," he said and shot her a look. The smirk on her face made her wary. "And the Environmental Club rulebook states that co-presidents have to spend loads of time together."

He was walking backwards and Y/N couldn't lie she was impressed until he stumbled over a crack in the sidewalk. "Well, it's a good thing I'm not co-President then."

"What if I told you, you were." Percy said, studying her. Her head shot up so fast, her vision blurred. It was as if an airplane from the sky had just dropped a bunch of wooden skewers right on her. They didn't hurt her, she was more shocked than anything. "Grover told me what happened and I just thought it was entirely unfair what Triton did to you. And you're fun to be around so during my speech I said that you were co-president but couldn't come in cause you were still coughing. Everyone seemed to believe it, so."

Y/N was quiet. She had never been so touched in her life. Being everyone's second choice sucked, but Percy had just admitted he thought she was fun. For a lot of people it wouldn't seem like such a big deal but Y/N felt all warm and fuzzy inside.

"I mean, you don't have to do it, if you don't want to. I can always tell everyone it had been a mistake. You're just a cool person and stuff. I would have a better time being president if you were doing it with me."

"I'd love to, Percy."

"Really?" Percy looked up from where he was tracing the sidewalk with his shoe. She had never seen him so happy yet shy. Y/N bit her cheek to keep herself from smiling too big. She felt tingly all over, it was stupid but she liked it. It wasn't electricity like how her friends had said they felt with their boyfriends, Y/N had never been electrocuted so she didn't know how it felt. But somehow she knew that Percy was more than just tiny shocks.

-

They were assigned their first project together a week later. Co-Presidency was a lot more fun than she had thought. Percy had used the excuse of inviting Y/N over to his table for lunch to 'discuss tactics'. Y/N knew that wasn't what he meant but she didn't mention anything.

Her best friend had asked to speak to her when she was studying with Percy. It was more like Percy whining about how senior year was supposed to be easy and how his life was so hard, while Y/N asked him questions from her stack of flashcards.

But the second Percy saw the panic on her face, he had asked her politely if she could talk to Y/N later because he had a test next period and really needed the help.

Y/N had thought he was bad at lying.

Once she left, Percy had put an arm around her and brought Y/N closer to him. He whispered into her ear, "I got you, criminal girl."

She smiled at her lap, and risked a glance at him. He was staring at her as if she was some question on a test he couldn't figure out. He held her intimacy of being understood in his hands.

She leaned into him.

-

At the end of the day, Percy met Y/N by her car. Their cars were amongst the last few left, except for some of the athletic representation and staff. Her shoes squeak against the pavement, but he doesn't even flinch; he just smiles at her.

She knocks his hat down as a makeshift greeting and a way to distract him so she doesn't see her double-checking it is in fact her car. Y/N already made a fool of herself before, she didn't want to do it again.

Unfortunately, he notices because he snickers behind her and jabs her sides. Her heart leaps into her throat then drops down to her feet, like some rollercoaster ride. She has to lean against the car to calm her racing breath. He laughs even harder at that and grabs her keys from her purse before getting in the passenger seat.

Once Y/N feels confident enough that she won't have a stroke around him, she gets in the car. Percy already has plugged his phone into apple car play and is playing some dumb song from his playlist. She faintly recognizes it as some song from the Little Mermaid.

"I don't think I needed the keys to get in here, did I?"

Y/N laughs and starts it, fortunately Garfield doesn't stall, "Probably not." She is about to pull out when she remembers that Percy is still in her car. "Now, get out. I have to go home."

"To do what?"

Y/N huffs and feels embarrassment climbing up her spine like the slimy snake in Adam and Eve, encouraging her to make up some lie so she can look cooler. But unlike them she doesn't fall into that pit, "I dunno."

"Okay, so no plans for the rest of the night then."

Y/N gives him a look that lets him know he isn't even a quarter as casual as he thinks he is. Percy takes it in stride, since Y/N answers his question despite his glaring obviousness. "I mean the only thing I planned on was going home and finishing my book, unless someone has a better idea."

She hopes Percy supposes he's supposed to be that someone, but sadly, he hasn't thought this far ahead into the conversation. He fumbles, stammering out little nonsensical half-sentences, but Y/N is blissfully unbothered. "Don't we have to work on the project?" His head is leaning against the headrest and Y/N wonders how someone stuttering can look so casual, and composed, and pretty.

He lights up then, and Y/N smiles unconsciously. Her heart beats a bit faster when his eyes met her own. She doesn't look away, and she feels this pull. The rest of the world turns into white noise, non-existent and unimportant. Y/N wants to reach out and touch him, just feel his skin against her own. It's addicting and exhilarating. "Ya," his voice comes out deeper than normal, and he has to clear his throat before speaking again, but even then it comes out softer than normal. He's doing this thing with his eyes, it makes her stomach flutter. And even though she shouldn't, she wanted to kiss him. "That's a good idea."

They stared at each other unapologetically as they sat there. Her eyes traveled from his aqua green eyes that resembled the ocean so much that she felt a serene feeling wash over her, as if she had just taken a whiff of salt water. Then, she realized that it was just Percy. Something about knowing how he smelled made her heart pound. She wondered how he kissed, whether he liked to go fast or slow. She knew that with him it wouldn't matter to her. Her eyes moved down to his throat and watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed. She saw the tilt of his lips and a flash of a dimple, the dip of his collarbone, the rhythmic rise and fall of his breathing.

By the time she looked back up, neither of them moved, even though Percy had just admitted that he wanted to leave.

And then suddenly he was moving. He put his phone in the cup holder, and his fingers brushed against hers in a split second of what felt like life. Then he slid across the seat and slipped her cheeks into his warm hands, his fingers raked through the back of her hair, and Percy kissed Y/N.

He barely touched her. Just a light brushing of lips against hers, the slightest feel of his breath on her face.

It shot through her in milliseconds. Even though it was just a press of lips, her breathing was ragged.

His hands were still stuck in her hair, and he was still so close to her. It made her a little breathless.

They stayed there, just taking each other in, neither moving or breaking eye contact. He looked at her like it was work not to look at Y/N. It's silent until it's not.

"You know those people you just sort of... vibe with?" Percy whispered, his eyes closing as he leans his forehead against hers. Her breath shudders.

She was glad he asked the question before invading her personal space again, her focus always went out the window. "Vibe with?" She giggles a little at the choice of word.

But Percy doesn't, he looks at her with a kind of seriousness that silences her immediately. Then, she thinks about his question, really thinks about it. Y/N was familiar with it. There are some people that when you meet you just click with, their vibes just vibe with yours. Those are the people you want to keep in forever because at the end of the day, they are who you want to be and Percy is more herself than she is.

But instead of staying that she just nods, and their noses brush. His lips quirk up. "Well, you are that person for me, I think."

Y/N smiles, and plants one of him. When she peels herself away from him, he chases her lips and she lets him. Choosing instead to murmur against his, "You're that person for me too."

#percy jackson x reader #percy x reader #percy jackson #high school au #percy jackson imagine #PJO #pjo imagine #pjo x reader

[danielcooperrp]

We Two Boys Together Clinging

Halfway through 19th Century American Poetry and Drew has a sensation with which he is all too familiar: eyes boring into the back of head. It doesn't matter how many times he's been gawked at in a restaurant or in the allergy aisle of CVS (hay fever is a bitch), the feeling of the little hairs on the back of his neck standing up never fails to make him want to slink into a hole and die. He tries to ignore it, tries to focus all of his attention on the professor, who is droning on about the difference between various editions of Leaves of Grass, but that only lasts so long. Eventually, he caves, and he turns to look. 

He's not shocked when the dark eyes watching him quickly dart away—people are often abashed when they get caught staring—but it is a surprise when, a few moments later, they return to meet his. The face they belong to is handsome, warm, dark skin, a strong jaw, a slightly crooked nose that suggests some kind of trouble, and—oh. Two rows of perfect white teeth that he sees now because the face is grinning at him, an inviting, dangerous grin, and now Drew's the one looking away, his own cheeks glowing red. His eyes burn holes in his notebook—he hasn't written a word in so long, he'll have to research this edition issue on his own later—and the other guy's eyes burn holes in his skull. 

Why is he looking at him like that? Drew hasn't said a thing all class, not that any of them would be able to get a word in edgewise. His eyes dart down to check his outfit; a little schnerdy, sure, but nothing that stands out in a Harvard classroom. He risks it again; a quick look back, and that smile is still waiting for him, this time a little softer, like he's happy he keeps getting caught. 

By the time class ends, Drew is a sweaty mess. He has no idea what the professor said for the last half of that lecture, but he's not going to stick around to ask. He tosses his notebook and his copy of Whitman into his satchel and slides into the mass exodus from the room. He lets himself be carried toward the building exit by the river of hungry undergrads, hoping that he avoids whatever situation was brewing behind him in class, but the river comes to a screeching halt when everyone notices that it's pouring buckets outside. Those smart enough to plan ahead whip out their umbrellas and leave, and some who don't have any other choice lower their heads and shoulders as though preparing to take a charging bull head on and foray bravely into the downpour. 

Drew doesn't have another class for forty-five minutes, and even though he was planning on getting lunch in the interim, he really doesn't want to get this sweater wet, so he decides to duck into an alcove and wait it out. He pulls out his phone, Googles the information he thinks he missed in class, and is halfway through an Encyclopedia Britannica article when someone clears their throat. He looks up and blinks owlishly. It's the teeth. 

"Hi," the teeth say. "I'm Xander." 

Drew stares. He doesn't know what to do with this information. During the rare instances someone deigns to talk to him, an introduction like "I'm Xander" is almost always followed by a request like "Can I get an picture?" or "Do you know where the bathroom is?", depending on if he's been recognized or not. But this...this is just warm brown eyes and a big shiny smile that he doesn't know what to with. 

"Drew Cooper," he eventually blurts out, remembering that he is in fact a human person with a name. "Um. Hi." 

Xander leans casually against the wall adjacent to Drew, the fabric of his shirt pulling tight over the bulk of his arms as he crosses them over his very muscular chest. "You know, I really liked what you had to say last week about the em dashes in Emily Dickinson's poems. How they're meant to give you space to breath but really end up making you feel breathless. Professor didn't know what do with that, but...I liked it."

What is happening what is happening what is hap— Drew swallows thickly. "Oh. Thanks. I, uh, visited the house in Amherst a lot growing up. School field trips, family weekends...I'm...familiar with her work."

Xander nods toward the corner of Leaves of Grass sticking out of Drew's satchel. "What about Whitman? He a favorite too?"

Drew shrugs. "Sure. Mostly 'Song of Myself' and 'Drum-Taps,' but generally...yeah, his language is...unparalleled." Drew pauses, unsure, and then continues. "Reading Whitman always reminds me that I need to look around more. That everything is beautiful if I let it be."

The smile grows bigger. "I really like the way you talk about poetry, Drew Cooper." Xander reaches into the JanSport he's got slung over one shoulder and pulls out an umbrella. "Want to talk about it over lunch?"

—————

It’s not until their third post-poetry class lunch that Drew finds out something interesting about his new friend. “Wait...you’re on the football team?”

Xander laughs, a loud, warm sound that makes Drew feel like he’s part of the joke instead of the butt of it. “Yeah, yeah, I’m on the football team.” Drew makes a face. “What?”

“Well...don’t take this the wrong way, but...” Drew swirls his spoon in his cup of clam chowder. “...is Harvard’s team any good?”

This earns a longer, louder laugh from Xander, who takes a bite of his grilled chicken when he’s done. “In the grand scheme of things? No. We go up against Auburn or Clemson and we’re getting our asses kicked, no questions asked. But against the teams we actually play? We’re not half-bad.” 

“So what position do you play?”

“Tight end.”

“Oh, I know that one. That’s...an important one.”

Xander suppresses the laugh this time. “It’s okay, Cooper. You don’t have to pretend to like football.”

Drew scrunches his nose. “I’m sorry. I come from a sports family. My dad and my older sister, in particular, they’ll talk for hours about football or baseball or hockey...it all goes over my head.”

With a shrug, Xander says, “Well, you’ve got enough good stuff going on in that head. No need to waste brain space on stuff that doesn’t matter.”

Drew feels himself starting to flush, so he quickly tries to shift the focus. “Well what about you? If football doesn’t matter, why risk CTE for it?”

“Scholarships, Cooper! You think Harvard pays for itself? I got in on test scores, but test scores don’t get you out of loans. Football does.”

And doesn’t that make Drew feel so silly. He knows how unbelievably lucky he is, that he had every semester of higher education he could ever want at whatever university would take him paid for before he was even born. If he had the mind to, he could keep taking classes at Harvard or Yale or Oxford until he died and he’d never have to think about the cost. Xander actually has to work for his education, and Drew feels like a little kid in comparison. 

—————

They’ve been in a little back corner of Lamont Library for a few hours now, bent over their respective texts as they work on assignments for different classes. Drew’s nose-deep in an anthology of Helen Hunt Jackson, while Xander’s scribbling away at equations for one of his insanely complicated math classes. They work in comfortable silence, and every once in a while Drew wonder how strange it is, the easy way they spend their days together. 

At one point, Xander throws down his pencil in disgust. “That’s it. Cooper, I’m dropping out.”

Drew makes a face. “You’re not dropping out, Xander.” 

“I am. No economics degree is worth this.” He gestures vaguely to his chicken-scratch math homework. 

“I mean, you’re not going to hear an argument from me, the guy studying History and Literature.” Drew peeks at the equations. “Would it help if you explained it to me?”

Xander furrows his brows. “What do you mean?”

“I mean...my sisters always head more of a head for the STEM subjects, while I’ve always been better at...” He waves a hand over his poetry book. “...softer stuff. But when I was a kid, my dad, who’s, like, an insane science nerd to the max, would tell me to pretend that I was the science teacher and I had to teach him the homework. It really helped. Explaining out loud, going over each problem piece by piece, helped me understand it better.” He flushes. “It’s just a thought, though. You don’t have to...”

“On one condition.” Xander smirks. “You have to tell me all of your thoughts on Thoreau afterward.”

Drew can’t fight his grin. “Deal.”

—————

Drew’s schedule is light on Tuesdays, so he’s back in the apartment he shares with Aidan, about halfway between Harvard and MIT’s campuses. She’s here, too, ditching a class she claims is “beneath the mathematical sensibilities of a first-grader.” She and some friend Drew is sure he should know the name of are on their little balcony, sipping wine coolers and people-watching while Drew reads for his early Wednesday class. Mostly, really, he’s listening to them gossip.

“See her?” 

“Blond ponytail?”

“No, by the crosswalk, with the dog. Don’t tell her you have a fake ID, she’ll narc on you in a heartbeat.”

“Get out!”

“Dead serious. Freshman down the hall got busted because of her.”

“What a bitch. Over there, those two: dating or siblings?”

“They’re practically identical, so I’m hoping siblings....Oh god, please let me be wrong...”

“Who’s that?”

“Where?” 

“Coming down the sidewalk here.”

“He’s hot, whoever he is.”

“I’ll say.”

“Wait...why does he look familiar....”

“Wasn’t he at that party two weekends ago? The one on Banks Street?”

“Oh my god, that’s it, he’s on the Harvard football team!”

Drew’s head snaps up. 

“Tell you what, he could score a touchdown any day. Look at those arms...Drew?” 

Drew scrambles off of the couch and flings himself onto the balcony. Aidan gives him a wild look. “What the hell?”

Peering over the edge, Drew spies Xander just as he gets to the front door of their building. He doesn’t need to use the buzzer, because someone’s coming out. “Oh.”

“Drew?”

Ignoring his sister, Drew rushes back to the couch, where he grabs all of his books and notebooks and tosses them into his backpack. Then he races into his bedroom to grab shoes. “I, uh, have to go! Study thing!”

Aidan looks down to the street and back to her panicked twin. “Drew...are you friends with a football player?”

“No!” Drew squeaks. “Yes! I mean, yes, we are friends. We have a class together. I have to go!”

Aidan squints in suspicion as Drew charges out the door. When it slams shut behind him, her friend says, “Does he know his sweater is on backward?”

Aidan shrugs. “Not my business.”

—————

“Why do you hang out with me?”

It’s a hazy October afternoon, and Drew and Xander are hanging out in Flagstaff Park, studying. People call out to Xander as they walk by, and Xander gives them a friendly wave or a “Hey man!” but makes no move to get up and socialize. Drew knows he’s quiet, not the best conversationalist in the world, so he wonders. 

“What do you mean?” Xander looks at him like he always does, like Drew is about to say something absolutely revelatory. 

“I mean...shouldn’t you be hanging out with the rest of the football team? Is that what you’re supposed to do?”

Xander seems amused. “Is that what you want me to do?”

“No,” Drew answers too quickly. “I just...I don’t know. I’ve never had someone spend so much time with me who wasn’t a blood relative, that’s all. And it seems like you have a lot of friends so...I don’t know...forget it...” Embarrassed, he turns back to his history textbook. 

A wide hand, fingers splayed, plops down over the pages, and Drew looks up to see Xander rolling his eyes. “I hang out with you so much, Cooper, because I like spending time with you, and also, I’m hoping that if I earn enough goodwill you’ll let me take you out to dinner at some point.” 

Drew freezes. “I—what?”

“I mean, if you’re not into me, that’s fine. I’m a big boy, I can handle it. But the thing is, I think you are into me, which is great, because I’m into you too, but I don’t mind biding my time until you’re ready.”

Every single neuron in Drew’s brain is misfiring. “You’re—into me?”

“Man got himself into Harvard just to outshine the professors and he still can’t read what’s right in front of him.” Xander sighs. “Yes, Cooper, I am into you, and would like to start seeing you socially in a romantic capacity.”

“But...you’re on the football team!” 

“I—what?” Drew just gapes at him. “Cooper...” Xander starts to laugh, slow at first, and then harder.

“Wait, why are you laughing at me?”

“It’s just...really refreshing to talk to someone as woefully out of touch as you are.”

“Hey!”

“Cooper, I dated a guy on the swim team for like two months last year. My being gay is...not news. To anyone.”

“Apparently not my sister,” Drew grumbles. 

“What?”

“Nothing.” Drew shakes his head. Nothing is making sense. “Do you know...who I am?”

“...We’ve met, yeah.”

“No, I mean...my family.”

“Oh.” Xander shrugs. “Yeah. Did some light Googling. I mean, c’mon, a white boy as quiet and smart as you? I had to be sure you weren’t secretly a neo-Nazi or some shit.”

“I’m Jewish,” Drew mumbles, “but that’s not the point. You know...who I’m related to.”

“Yeah. Am I supposed to care?” Xander reaches out and takes Drew’s hand, interlaces their fingers together. Drew’s heart is pounding so hard in his ears he can barely hear Xander speak. “Cooper, I am an economics major. I don’t want to date you because your grandpa was a billionaire. I want to date you in spite of the fact that your grandpa was a billionaire.”

Drew chokes out a laugh. “Fair enough.” 

“I mean, you’re cute and all, but don’t think I won’t eat you for sustenance when the class war starts.”

His laugh is louder this time. “Stop.” 

“So what do you say?” A squeeze of the fingers, and a squeeze to his heart. “Drew Cooper, will you go on a date with me?”

Drew chews on his lip, and then he nods. “Yeah. Yeah I will.” 

Then Xander grins his perfect white grin, and Drew knows he’s a goner.

#drabble #v1 #drew #xander #thenamesallison #i................spent hours on this #i did nothing today #where did this even come from wtf

[alternativewinxcontinuity]

I absolutly love the Umbra corps au, could you talk more about different classes. Is there a class on how to obtain new forms. And could you talk about cloud tower and red fountain classes?

This ask kicked my (metaphorical) ass, I’m so sorry for the delay.

I do ramble mostly about Alfea, and I feel like there’s probably more to talk about with the other schools, but I feel like if I don’t post this it’ll be waiting for another few months.  >.<’

Alfea:

The first year of Alfea is spent in what are essentially micro-courses. A series of short introductory classes to most of the available options at Alfea, this gives the students one of the broadest beginner bases in terms of fairy magic as a whole, but it also allows them to figure out what kind of courses are likely to appeal to them, what they're good at, what kind of career they'd be well suited to based on where their interests and the job requirements over-lap.

Because Alfea is a “fairy only” school, it is able to focus on fairy magic and interests more than schools which have different magicals and have to find a common ground with only a few speciality electives.

This is what has allowed Alfea, and also Cloud Tower and Red Fountain, to shine in their various fields.

The sheer number of (what are essentially) elective courses means that it can take (on average) anywhere from 3 to 5 years for the average student to graduate, although some students do remain 'part-time' students for longer.

Abnormal class times are also a common side effect of the multitude of electives. While a good majority of classes run from early morning to mid afternoon, some classes take place later at night or on 'weekends' so all the students who want to attend them can.

('Part-time' students are either students who have effectively graduated but maybe require a specific course to get the job they want so only show up to campus for that specific class and spend the rest of their time off working, or are only taking a few classes per week and thus have time to go off and do other things or spend more time in self-study.)

As a magical building, Alfea has plenty of unseen infrastructure hidden within, but it also possesses several satellite buildings including off campus overnight accommodation typically used by older students with odd hours or part time students who need accommodation for only part of the week, numerous greenhouses, and a ranger cabin at the Nature Preserve Alfea oversees.  

-

Not all courses are held on campus.

Sometimes students have interests for which courses aren't available at Alfea. In the instance that a guest teacher can't be found, Alfea will often arrange for students to attend classes at a different school for those lessons.

Students will either teleport themselves or be teleported by other students who are capable if the campus is too far away for physical transport (like the school bus) to be a reasonable travel method.

(Reasonable meaning it doesn't take longer than the lesson just to get to the site, never mind the return trip.)

-

Since a fairy's instincts are one of their most powerful tools, there is a class that focuses specifically on getting in tune with themselves, those who stay in that course after the initial term begin a course on philosophy that focuses on fairies and their powers as a whole. This course is an elective and does take a look at the specific mental and emotional requirements behind fairy transformations. (The lectures on Forms and power advancement are 'open door,' so anyone who's interested in 'levelling up' or re-tuning themselves after a power up are able to sit in on them.)

This is not to be confused with the course on wider magi-philosophy which looks at the cultural philosophies on magic from around the Magical Dimension and is one of the courses recommended for diplomats or travellers.

-

There are several different courses on transformation type magic, most of which start with what are essentially cosmetic spells like changing hair colour or texture. This is partially to teach the students how to do the basics, how the basics feel when cast, and to appeal to teenagers who are figuring out who they are as people by giving them the ability to see how attached they are or aren't to certain aspects of their appearance.

This course separates into internal (shape-shifting) and external (raw wood into a cup) applications. (The 'basic' matter merge exercise is a first year taught spell for external transformation.)

All students are required to learn a bare minimum of healing magic, the equivalent of fairy first aid, but also normal, non-magical first aid as well. Further courses on healing are available, but most are higher tier and only those with an intense interest or an aptitude take them.

Magic languages are a higher course, but the basic introduction to runes, and some of the most common magical symbols are part of the first year introductory course.

-

Classes non-fairies would be familiar with are available but often entwine with electives the higher they go. For example: Basic mathematics is one of the standard mandatory courses, but Book Keeping is part of the “how to not let your kingdom fall apart” course which covers budgeting/money managements and how to calculate food and medical needs for a populace. (This course is taught by Madame DuFour who also teaches etiquette, some parts of the Magical Languages courses and courses on various cultures from around the Magic Dimension.)

These types of classes, as well as several other also have a partial open-door policy and the notice boards often have time tables on display for the open door times and subjects.

-

While single students who are sick might have a few days off, if the school were to go into a quarantine lock down, each dorm is equipped with enough computer terminals for all students to attend classes from their rooms.

The Main dorm room is also equipped with a holo-projector so that members of the dorm can sit together if they have the same class.

Teachers typically have their own personal classrooms which can be set up to indicate who is and isn't present for lectures if they don't want to just lecture from their personal rooms.

Quarantine Lock-downs also engage a shield over the school which is the only shield that automatically closes access to the catacombs as well.

Alfea, like all three of the schools, has enough food to last a month for the entire school without rationing, this is because the school is filled with teenagers who are growing both physically and magically and can have enormous appetites.

But also the school has a home ec. cooking class, which many consider to be a side course to the potions courses, and ensures every fairy leaves Alfea being able to cook at least three dishes well enough to be edible.

-

Alfea graduates are some of the best Fairy God Mothers and Guardian Fairies in the Magical Dimension, but graduates also do other things as well.

In addition to the so called Umbra corp, Alfea also has graduates who specialise in Medical Magic, diplomacy, artefacts, Magi-Archeaology, and 'Planet Repair' whose responsibility is to help a Planet's environmental conditions return to normal after a huge upset, whether natural or as the result of dark magic.

Many Royals and nobles have passed through Alfea's halls, but there are no truly dedicated classes for them, at most they are recommended to take etiquette and economics as well as basic leadership and diplomacy courses, but many of them receive private tutoring on such matters before they even arrive at Alfea so none of the courses are mandatory. (Various worlds have various cultures, so the majority of etiquette classes focuses on the parts which are universal, except for the advanced course for diplomat hopefuls.)

-

-

Cloud Tower:

Like Alfea it's a speciality school, focusing solely on Witchcraft and it's related branches.

One of the major differences between Witchcraft and Faircraft (see also: Faecraft), is the type of energy and basic effects it uses and produces.

Witchcraft, and therefore witches, use negative emotions to bolster their inherent power which leaves them susceptible to negative mindsets. One of the most important classes at Cloud Tower is course which is part philosophy, part psychology and part spiritual, which all witches are required to take.

This class is designed to help young witches learn their personal limits, the signs of falling into madness, how to keep oneself from falling too far, and how to counteract some of the more toxic emotional effects of their craft.

Many of the courses found at Alfea have an equivalent class in Cloud Tower's curriculum, but very few are taught from identical mindsets.

Ancient Runes and such, which are 'spell shapes' that are deeply entrenched in the 'consciousness of the Magical Universe', are basically a hot-key for a spell effect and don't require a specific positive or negative charge in the magic used to cast them therefore anyone with enough magical power and knowledge can use them regardless of fairy, witch or wizard, and no special adaptations for their use are needed.

Potions for the most part are also very similar, but witches have a tendency to focus on more 'harmful' potions than fairies. Cloud Tower has a special course on poisons as part of an advance potion making branch, the first few weeks focus on identifying a poison and crafting the antidotes.

-

There is one job that most witches secretly hope to be worthy of earning before most of them settle into their own expertise, and that is a job they refer to as “the anti-fairy-god-mother”.  Almost every planet has one, and they're typically attached to the world's Guardian Fairies.

The basic job description is “cause problems on purpose”.

Their proper purpose is one that is found in Earth's fairy tales, the 'educational punishment of the morally corrupt'. These witches are trained heavily in psychology and curses and literally go around cursing people in ways that force them to undergo personal growth (or perish).

The reason they're attached to the Guardian Fairies of a world is so that they don't go unchecked and actually perform their job, and so that there are people on hand should a curse go out of control.

These witches aren't publicly acknowledged as being members of the Guardian groups so that they can move more freely.

The difficulty in this pathway is the training needed to prepare for the job, the ability to figure out how to get the lesson across. The exact number of these witches is unknown, though it is considered a rarer profession. (There is at least one world which only has 'one immortal witch/dark fairy' in the role, though in truth there have been hundreds all using the same appearance to create a legend.)

-

-

Red Fountain:

Red Fountain is a Magic Lite school, focusing more on the physical aspects of combat and therefore covers a large array of weaponry.

Their courses include more 'primitive' skills like tracking by sight, survival in various environments and handling creatures of lesser intellect. (IE. Dragon Wrangling)

Dragon Wrangling it one of their most “magically inclined” classes, training students to use minor psychic and empathic projection to communicate their will to the dragons. (The dragons in this instance are a special breed which are already sensitive to psychic and empathic communication.)

Students of Red Fountain are taught to not only use weapons, but craft and maintain them.

The ships and vehicles used by Red Fountain for missions are also maintained by students in the engineering department, one of several 'specialty' courses that the school runs.

Since most students lack in magcial ability (those with strong magic often preferring schools for magic users) their “magic classes” have more to do with identifying spell usage or the presence of curses, strengthening their will to resist mental manipulation magics, dealing with magic when they have none, and knowing when to call for magic-capable backup.

Though students on assignment are typically hunting down dangerous creatures in smaller groups, the school does have classes for larger scale battles and defending large structures. Red Fountain's version of capture the flag is a school wide, week long affair that goes a little harder than it really has to, and gives Alfea and Cloud Tower's healing majors the chance to work along some of the more skilled healers in a reasonably safe crisis situation. (The only Red Fountain students who are safe during this period are their own medics, but even that is not guaranteed. Thankfully no one has died during a game since Codatorta was a student.)

#winx #winx club #Winx Alt Con #Winx Alternative Continuity #Asking Alternix #classes at magix schools

[call-me-rei]

Chapter 31

“I can’t be your lover on a leash…”

---

The whole school was still in a commotion the day after Jacob tried to start shit. Most kids were talking about how Vic owned him while others were placing bets on whether Jacob or I would win in a fight.

I rolled my eyes as I walked past some kids whispering about me. I wouldn’t have minded it too much if they hadn’t been so obvious. Fucking freshmen.

I went to my locker and took out the books I’d need for my two classes before choir. I put them in my backpack, slung the bag over my good shoulder, and walked to class.

It was an A day, meaning I had first period. That was my government class. I chuckled to myself as I walked down the hall and into the room. I found humor in the looks some of the students were giving me as I sat in my seat for the day. Well, technically it was Vic’s seat. He did almost beat me up for it.

I had gotten to class early so there weren’t many students in the room, but the ones who were there looked at me like I was crazy or stupid. I ignored the stares and took my notebook out of my backpack. The whole school already thought Vic kicked my ass for sitting here so what else could he do? Why beat someone up for the same thing twice?

Did I actually think Vic would hurt me for sitting in a dumb seat? Of course not. Even if he wasn’t talking to me, I knew he wouldn’t attack me for something so stupid, especially since he knew why I was broken and bruised in the first place.

The first bell of the morning rang, signaling that students were coming into the building. I had at least fifteen minutes to zone out and draw before Mr. Davis started the lesson. I took my headphones out and put on one of my favorite playlists that I’d created on Spotify.

My “just because” playlist was pretty chill. It was mostly filled with songs from my friends’ playlists or songs I grew up listening to. Either way it was relaxing. I wanted to create a playlist of songs from the friends I’d made in San Diego. They each had such different tastes that it would be fun to hear how they all connected. And since I couldn’t find the inspiration to draw, I figured I could get started on that before class.

I went to Lynn’s page first. I knew she liked music with an electronic element. I listened to the first song on her playlist and liked it. I’d need to listen to it again to decide if I wanted it on my page.

I repeated this process with Kortney’s, Ashley’s, Tyler’s, and Savannah’s playlists. The vibes were different on each of them; that made them more fun to listen to. I had a couple minutes before the final bell, so I scrolled down my profile page looking for more of my friends’ pages to explore.

That’s when I saw it.

I had completely forgotten that Vic and I were following each other on Spotify. He wanted us to listen to some songs for inspiration for our music appreciation project and he wanted to share those songs with me on the app. I didn’t think too much of it at the time and I didn’t go back to his page since he had directly shared the playlist with me. But now that we weren’t talking I wanted to see what was up.

I pressed on his picture and saw his list of playlists. He had one titled Curty P Party Mix, whatever that was, and a couple others that were just an artist’s discography. One playlist in particular stood out though. It was titled For You.

I opened it. “Anywhere With You” by Saves The Day was on it along with “Talking to the Moon” by Bruno Mars. There were many different genres in between, but the message was clear: he missed someone.

Was it me?

I shook my head. There was no way I was going to put myself in that position again. He rejected me. He left me. He didn’t want to be with me! I wasn’t going to allow myself to think that he was sorry when he hadn’t tried to talk to me in a week.

The final bell rang while I was talking to myself, letting the school know that it was time for class to start. I put my headphones in my bag and locked my phone.

Mr. Davis stood from behind his desk ready to start the lesson but stopped short when the door opened. It was déjà vu. Vic walked in. Mr. Davis sighed and gestured for Vic to take his seat. Vic walked across the floor without a word. The kids in class seemed to hold their breath. Why? Oh, because I was in that damn seat.

Vic walked up to me and stared. I couldn’t help but stare back. Unlike my first day, he didn’t threaten me. He didn’t say a single word to me, just stared. I tried to read his face. He wasn’t angry or trying to threaten me. He wore his signature expressionless look. I tried to send that same look to him but I’m sure I came across as intimidated.

We continued our staring contest for what felt like half an hour when in reality it was probably a few seconds.

Mr. Davis cleared his throat. “Mr. Fuentes, please take your seat.”

Vic snapped out of his daze and took the empty seat next to mine. He didn’t glance at me and didn’t speak to me for the entire period.

***

I sat on the floor in a practice room after choir. It was quiet and secluded, so I didn’t have to worry about someone saying anything to me. Being at school had been rougher than I imagined. I ended up texting Lynn after economics telling her I wouldn’t be at lunch. She was concerned, but she understood that I was overwhelmed. She offered to drive me to McDonald’s after school if I was feeling up to it.

As much as I wanted to focus on the potential good that was going to come after a stressful day, my mind went back to Vic’s playlist. For You. As much as I didn’t want to think it, I wanted it to be for me. If he wasn’t going to talk to me then all I had was to wish that he’d dedicate some songs to me.

I went back to Spotify and Vic’s profile. I’m not sure why, but I hesitated. I should’ve picked a song to listen to immediately, but I was worried. Some part of me thought this was a trick. Like he knew I would find it and he set it up so I would think that he missed me.

Fuck, I was overthinking again.

I shut my brain off and picked a song from the playlist. “All That I’ve Got” by The Used started playing from my phone’s speakers. I sat back against the wall and listened to the lyrics. I figured that even if Vic hadn’t made the playlist for me, I could use it to describe my own feelings.

I felt like shit.

I missed him.

I sighed. I didn’t want to openly admit it, but I’d be damned if I could ignore it. The song that was playing wasn’t helping but to be fair none of the songs on the list would help.

We needed to talk. I didn’t understand why he didn’t want to talk to me. I’d thought about it for the entire week. I knew that I wouldn’t be obsessing over it if he’d just answer my questions and let me know. Damn him for being so aloof!

I closed my eyes as The Used stopped playing and “Only Us” by Thrice came on.

“There’s ‘only us,’ huh?” I said to myself. “Then why won’t you talk to me?”

“You wanna talk?” I hadn’t noticed that the door opened. I jumped in my spot and looked toward the voice of that son of a bitch.

“What?” I huffed. Seeing him in the doorway made me frustrated. Why was he there? What did he want? Why was this the first time in a week that he wanted to speak? I didn’t want to see him. It was as if I needed to be available for him but when I wanted to get close to him he had the right to reject me. Well maybe I wanted that right.

He cocked his head to the side. “You found my playlist.”

That was all he had to say? I scoffed and turned to face forward.

“So you’re gonna ignore me?”

I turned around swiftly with my mouth open. Did he really say that? The bitch who’d been ignoring me for six damn days was upset that I didn’t respond to him?

“Fuck off,” I spat. He crossed his arms over his chest and frowned. It looked like he was contemplating what to do next.

He turned around after a moment. I thought he was going to leave but instead he closed the door. I pursed my lips and watched as he stepped farther into the room and sat on the floor about a foot away from me.

“What part of ‘fuck off’ don’t you understand?” I asked. “I don’t wanna talk to you.”

“Well I wanna talk to you.” I shot daggers at him with my eyes. The nerve of this bitch!

“No,” I said. He looked at me quizzically. “Are you fucking kidding me? Do you not understand?”

“Kellin-”

“No,” I said again, cutting him off. “I tried to talk to you for six fucking days and you ignore me and push me aside like I'm a piece of trash. Now you wanna talk to me and I should just be ready? Fuck you! You don't get to tell me what to do. You don't get to just look at me and not say a single word to me for a week and not care about how it makes me feel. You also don't get to make fucking playlists for me and act like nothing is wrong! You don't deserve my attention; you don't deserve to be in this room with me. You are not allowed to string me along after you explicitly told me that you wanted me. It's not fair and I don't deserve it.”

I was standing at the end of that rant, my breathing heavy. I wasn’t sure where that all came from but damn, it felt good to get it out.

Then I saw the look on his face and I regretting learning to talk in the first place.

He sat there with his trademark blank expression. I couldn’t tell if he was taking everything in or was trying not to explode the same way I had.

“Are you gonna say anything?” I asked softly once I’d calmed down.

He stood up. “Do you really feel that way?”

I nodded slowly. I didn’t trust my mouth or my brain to give him a good answer.

He looked at me, chocolate brown eyes searching my blue ones. Apparently he didn’t find what he was looking for because he turned and walked out of the room without another word.

#Conan Gray - The Cut That Always Bleeds #Pierce The Veil fanfiction #Pierce The Veil fanfic #Kellic fanfiction #Kellic fanfic #Kellic #Vic Fuentes #Kellin Quinn #Playlist Love #Saves The Day - Anywhere With You #Bruno Mars - Talking to the Moon #Thrice - Only Us

[nonchalantdanger]

I defer to your knowledge since you have a lot more combat experience than me--between the different Cyrano actors, who do you think makes the most convincing "greatest swordsman in France"? :)

@theimpossiblescheme Dude, I love this question, and I’ve spent the last half day thinking about it cause it’s such an essential part of the character. Before you’ve even seen the man in the play, everyone knows that Cyrano’s wit and his sword are feared/respected by all of Paris. In terms of character building, the Nose Monologue (you saw my overly long post about THAT) and the Ballade of the Duel unequivocally establish who Cyrano is as a person.

Before I go into the actors, I do want to analyze a thing from a purely fencing standpoint — I fenced non-competitively for a couple years before transitioning into more historical fight combat, but many of my compatriots also fought with Cyrano/Richelieu/Dumas era swords and fight manuals. In the fight between Cyrano and Valvert — which is consistent across all versions, because many don’t include any glimpse of the fight at the Port du Nesle — it goes on long enough for Cyrano to finish his ballade. Now, I realize there are instances where Cyrano could have hit, but didn’t (he gives Valvert’s sword back to him in many versions so that they can continue, which by all dueling rights, Cyrano can literally just kill him or just walk away with his sword), but STILL. Modern fencing isn’t a great example of this, because they aren’t fighting with blades meant to be used in mortal combat, so the instinct to get the fuck away from that sharp, pointy thing that could HURT ME isn’t there cause it doesn’t need to be anymore. Speaking from experience, if you ever have a metal blade meant for serious combat held anywhere near your face, neck, or vulnerable bits, the instinctive GTFO response is there. Frankly, the strength of it is something that fight masters talk about having to overcome in a fight, because adrenaline — despite the fact it can keep you alive — against a trained, cunning opponent is NOT YOUR FRIEND. Those things established, fencing is QUICK. Fights with dire stakes like that, where one opponent (Valvert) definitely wants to humiliate (maim, possibly kill) Cyrano, there are two situations where a fight could be drawn out enough for a ballade recitation. ONE — Cyrano is just indescribably better than Valvert. He’s a grandmaster to the average fifth grade chess player. So then the fight is totally controlled by Cyrano no matter what Valvert does, and Cyrano wants to to finish his ballade, dammit. TWO — They are evenly matched, and both are expert swordsmen. They’re anticipating the moves the other will make three moves out, but so is their opponent, and so then it’s just a game of attrition: who looses focus first? Who mistimes a strike? Who slips? Who fatigues first? This, in my mind, is the most plausible, because Cyrano blossoms in the face of a true challenge, and it’s a much bigger feat for him to do this extraordinary poetical thing while fighting a guy who’s not a pushover. <- That was a HUGE digression, but I’ve spent too much time thinking about it not to say it.

I’m gonna start from the bottom of my list and say that — as much as I love him as Cyrano — Depardieu is NOT a swordsman. He obviously had very good fight choreographers, and the guy playing Valvert knows what he’s doing (mostly), but the way he moves and crosses his feet in certain instances would put him at more of a disadvantage than it does in the scene. This is one where it’s made clear that it’s Situation One: Cyrano is controlling the pace of the fight completely, he’s playing to the crowd, and Valvert is caught up in it. If Cyrano was taking it seriously, he could’ve beat Valvert in a single exchange (from meeting blades to either a hit, a disarm, or one person regathers). I do enjoy the brief glimpse of the Port du Nesle fight we get with him, cause that a frigging BRAWL. Cyrano can fight prettily and economically, and I appreciate that they showed us that.

I’m torn between Ferrer and Kline.

Kline obviously plays a Situation One Cyrano. I actually had a fight master who would fight ‘lazy’ like Kline’s Cyrano does — his form isn’t rigid, he’s sort of lackadaisical about the whole thing, but his sword work is elegant and precise. Valvert has no opening. Cyrano is baiting him. My fight master was amazing because his technique could be very formal and structured, but after three hours of practice in, his arms would fall, his stance would straighten, but you’d still get your ass kicked. We started calling him out on it, and he was so confused, because he didn’t realize he was doing it. He was just like “my arms hurt! I’ve been fighting you jerks for an hour!” And he’d just subconsciously relaxed his posture, but didn’t change his effectiveness in a fight. Kline is that Cyrano for me.

Ferrer is a trained fencer, as many actors were back then, following Errol Flynn’s footsteps. He is a well-trained fencer. So is the guy who plays Valvert. So this is the rare occasion where we see Situation Two Cyrano. You can see it in the first few engagements, how they’re testing each other (I want to kiss the fight choreographer for that scene, but I’ve also read that the choreographer, after learning that Ferrer and the actor playing Valvert were very well trained, kinda just went: here’s the blocking I need you to do for the scene, but y’all know how to fight, so figure out what would make sense), and that shit is so quick and fluid. The attrition applies here. Cyrano figures Valvert out, so when you get to the second verse of the Ballade, Valvert start failing to anticipate Cyrano’s techniques and counters, so he’s exposed as the lesser swordsman. You see a realistic Situation One Cyrano with Ferrer fighting the ruffians who want to kill the poet (in that version, Rageneau) as he’s fighting them in the street. He’s only injured because it was friggin one against a hundred. Cyrano why are you so extra.

So anyways, that’s my take on it. Long answer, but enjoy!

#cyrano de bergerac #jose ferrer #kevin kline #Gerard depardieu #swords #duels #duels with BALLADES #Disclaimer: I am not a professional fighter or fight choreographer #this is just my take from doing historical fencing for years #love fencing #great stuff

[theliberaltony]

via Politics – FiveThirtyEight

Welcome to an emergency edition of FiveThirtyEight’s politics chat. The transcript below has been lightly edited.

sarah (Sarah Frostenson, politics editor): Very early Friday morning, President Trump tweeted that he and First Lady Melania Trump had tested positive for COVID-19. That news came just after reports on Thursday that White House senior advisor Hope Hicks had tested positive.

There’s a lot we still don’t know at this point, including the extent of White House staff affected or the severity of the president’s symptoms, but with about a month until Election Day, this is … an October surprise, to say the least.

Let’s start with one of the big questions: What does this mean for the election?

natesilver (Nate Silver, editor in chief): So for some reason I’m finding it hard to think through the electoral implications this morning. Maybe I need even more coffee. My thoughts right now are mostly some combination of:

Seriously how the F*CK does this happen? Shouldn’t everybody in the president’s orbit have been tested constantly?

And, OF COURSE this happened because 2020 and because the president clearly was not taking that many precautions

perry (Perry Bacon Jr., senior writer): My overall answer is, “I have no idea how this affects the election.” This is truly unprecedented, as far as I know, in American elections — the president getting a serious virus weeks before the election. I can’t think of any leader abroad who has gotten a virus like this weeks before the election either (though I am not an expert on elections outside of the United States).

So while I have some general thoughts, I wanted to lay that out first. I truly have no idea what to expect, how voters will react to Trump’s positive test, how the media will cover it or how other candidates will react.

I.

Don’t.

Know.

ameliatd (Amelia Thomson-DeVeaux, senior writer): Yeah — it’s such a black box and honestly so dependent on what happens next. Does Trump get really sick? Does he stay mostly asymptomatic? How far did the virus spread in the White House? All questions we can’t answer right now, of course. But hugely important for how people respond.

natesilver: Yeah. We’re going to be saying “I don’t know” a lot in this chat. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with thinking through the electoral implications. There’s an election happening literally NOW — millions of people have already voted. So Americans are wrestling with this stuff. We just don’t have a lot of good answers.

ameliatd: And, of course, there’s an open question about whether Joe Biden will test positive, after he and Trump were at the debate together on Tuesday.

natesilver: Right, and one thing I’m not sure people realize is that there can be several days between exposure and a positive test. So we won’t know for sure which people have or don’t have COVID-19 for a bit here.

ameliatd: In the meantime, though, this does mean that Trump can’t campaign for at a while, right? And what about the debates, which were supposed to be on Oct. 15 and 22? Do those still happen?

How much does it matter if Trump can’t campaign, though? This was already a deeply bizarre year and I’m not sure his rallies were going to put him over the edge.

natesilver: Zoom debates?

ameliatd: Everyone wanted that automatic mute last time!

natesilver: At a very basic, square-one level, COVID-19 is a huge liability for the president, and so placing more focus on COVID-19 probably isn’t great for him. But I don’t know how useful that is as a prior. Could Trump getting COVID-19 change his messaging around the virus and pandemic? Maybe. But this is Donald Trump we’re talking about. He’s not inclined to be overly disciplined or deferential to scientists, etc. He’s pretty unpredictable, and we don’t yet know a lot about how serious his symptoms are. And this is a bad disease that can have cognitive effects in addition to physical ones.

Also in terms of very, basic, non-debatable priors: the president’s re-election bid was in DEEP trouble going into this, at least by conventional measures. And the smattering of post-debate polls we’d gotten had been particularly bad for him. So just worth keeping that in mind.

sarah: Absolutely. But on the question of how this happened … The Trump campaign has not taken precautions seriously. They’ve continued to hold large, in-person events. And they’ve even mocked the Biden campaign for wearing masks.

Is one possible scenario from this that Americans take the coronavirus more seriously? Views on COVID-19 and Trump’s response to it are polarized by party, but how could Trump’s positive test change public opinion?

ameliatd: I think what happens with public opinion really depends on how sick Trump gets. As I wrote over the summer, a big part of the reason Republicans are not as into COVID-19 restrictions is that they are much, much less likely to view the virus as a personal health threat to them.

And research has indicated that Trump downplaying the virus is probably a significant driver of that. So I could see this playing out at least two ways …

Trump gets moderately or very sick and this does prompt Republicans to think, “Oh geez, this actually is serious and if it could happen to Trump it could happen to me”;

Trump remains mostly asymptomatic and it bolsters the idea that this is actually not such a big deal.

perry: So, writing this on Friday morning, here’s what I expect …

The overwhelming majority of people, even those who are older, don’t die from COVID-19. So the most likely outcome is that Trump and some of his staffers have COVID-19, stay somewhat distanced from everyone for two weeks and then Trump returns to campaigning for reelection (I am not sure if he has the big rallies, but I wouldn’t rule that out.) I am not even sure the next two debates have to be canceled — particularly the Oct 22 one. And basically nothing has shaken Trump’s job approval ratings or really the race overall. I don’t really expect this to shift things either.

The president testing positive for COVID-19 is obviously hugely significant, but it’s not revelatory. We already knew Trump was not taking the virus seriously enough. Now, we have a much more obvious manifestation of that fact, but nothing is really different. Biden may not be able to attack Trump as bluntly on COVID now, for decorum reasons, but this positive test reinforces Biden’s message that Trump has let this crisis get out of hand. So this matters, but I’m not sure it matters electorally in terms of shifting a lot of people’s votes.

ameliatd: I know we’re thinking way down the line now, but is it possible that battling and surviving COVID-19 could actually make Trump more popular in some corners? Especially if he doesn’t get very sick?

natesilver: Amelia, I’m not sure I really buy that. I mean, somehow if it made the president into a more empathetic person, maybe, I suppose? But (i) I’m not sure that’s how he’s likely to react as opposed to sending 6,000 tweets about the “China Virus” or something; and (ii) he’s been trying to project a lot of macho-ness/dominance and to portray Biden as old and feeble and I’m not sure how contracting a serious disease himself fits into that.

ameliatd: Well, but if he contracts a serious disease and doesn’t get very sick and recovers fairly quickly — that certainly doesn’t seem as bad for him.

natesilver: I guess if he recovers in a couple of weeks, which is still what happens for most people, maybe he’ll say he kicked COVID’s ass and/or it wasn’t that serious. But I don’t think that necessarily affects anything electorally.

ameliatd: So, is the main impact potentially less about politics and more about the way Americans think about the virus? Either prompting Republicans to take it more seriously or reinforcing their sense that this really isn’t a big deal?

There was research back in March indicating that COVID-19 spreading at CPAC helped drive a brief moment when Republicans and Democrats were on the same page about the seriousness of the virus.

perry: So I don’t buy this idea that Trump will get COVID-19, be fine and then start calling it “Fake News.” We just learned Ronna McDaneil, the RNC chair, has also tested positive. So has Hope Hicks, a top Trump adviser. I think enough people in Trump’s circle may have the virus that THOSE PEOPLE start taking this more seriously, basically forcing him to as well.

natesilver: This is one sort of message we might hear, I guess:

Remember: China gave this virus to our President @realDonaldTrump and First Lady @FLOTUS.  

WE MUST HOLD THEM ACCOUNTABLE.

— Kelly Loeffler (@KLoeffler) October 2, 2020

sarah: But this question of whether it will change how seriously people perceive the coronavirus is an interesting one. Americans overall, as we saw in our debate polling with Ipsos, listed the coronavirus as their No. 1 issue:

COVID-19 and the economy are Americans’ top two issues

Share of respondents who named each issue as the top one facing the U.S., according to a FiveThirtyEight/Ipsos poll

issue share of all Respondents COVID-19 31.7%

–

The economy 21.6

–

Health care 7.9

–

Racial inequality 7.4

–

Climate change 5.2

–

Violent crime 4.8

–

The Supreme Court 4.5

–

Economic inequality 3.0

–

Immigration 2.8

–

Education 2.6

–

Abortion 2.3

–

Gun policy 1.9

–

Other 1.6

–

Data comes from polling done by Ipsos for FiveThirtyEight, using Ipsos’s KnowledgePanel, a probability-based online panel that is recruited to be representative of the U.S. population. The poll was conducted Sept. 21-28 among a general population sample of adults, with 3,133 respondents and a margin of error of +/- 1.9 percentage points.

However, among potential Trump supporters a much smaller share (15.5 percent) said the coronavirus was their most important issue, many more were concerned about the economy:

Potential Trump voters care most about the economy

Among respondents who were more likely to vote for Trump than Biden, share who named each issue as the top one facing the U.S., according to a FiveThirtyEight/Ipsos poll

issue share of trump supporters The economy 38.4%

–

COVID-19 15.5

–

Violent crime 9.5

–

The Supreme Court 6.2

–

Abortion 5.4

–

Health care 4.9

–

Immigration 4.8

–

Education 3.9

–

Gun policy 3.4

–

Other 2.4

–

Racial inequality 1.8

–

Economic inequality 1.6

–

Climate change 0.5

–

Respondents were asked to rate how likely they were to vote for each candidate on a scale of 0-10. Respondents were deemed more likely to vote for whichever candidate they gave a higher score. Respondents who gave both candidates the same score are not included.

Data comes from polling done by Ipsos for FiveThirtyEight, using Ipsos’s KnowledgePanel, a probability-based online panel that is recruited to be representative of the U.S. population. The poll was conducted Sept. 21-28 among a general population sample of adults, with 3,133 respondents and a margin of error of +/- 1.9 percentage points.

I think you could argue that the economy is probably linked to coronavirus among Trump supporters, but this could be a moment that has public health repercussions, yes?

ameliatd: Well, there was a jobs report this morning — one that I suspect is now going to get a LOT less attention. It was kinda positive — if you can consider the unemployment rate falling just under 8 percent positive.

perry: I think there could be a bunch of real, important health outcomes from this …

GOP governors and mayors may be a bit more hesitant to lift COVID restrictions;

Democratic mayors and governors may cite Trump’s positive test as part of their messaging on keeping restrictions in place;

Republican voters may become a bit less dismissive of COVID, in part because GOP elites take it more seriously;

Overall, this news could be important and have a positive impact in terms of Americans taking the virus more seriously.

ameliatd: Yeah, I’m also wondering if this will change the way Republican governors approach restrictions, which are all but completely lifted in some states.

Although I do think it’s important to note that the vast majority of Americans say they’ve been complying with public health guidelines like mask-wearing, even if Republicans are much less likely to agree with government restrictions on businesses.

perry: To take an example: Georgia Gov. Brian Kemp, a Republican, is never going to give a press conference and say something like, “I was downplaying COVID-19 but then Trump got it and it reinforced how serious this was.” At least, I think that will never happen?

natesilver: I suppose I’m skeptical that this will necessarily change all that much. As you can see from the Kelly Loeffler tweet above, there are lots of partisan responses that don’t necessarily involve taking the disease more seriously per se.

Now, if Trump said something like what Perry just layed out, i.e. “I wasn’t taking this seriously enough, and I now understand the error of my ways…” then OK! That could make a difference! But I’m not sure that’s necessarily the most likely outcome.

ameliatd: But for regular people, I think a lot of this is about the gut-level fear that this might happen to them. Trump downplaying it, not wearing a mask, and not getting sick almost certainly helped reinforce the feeling among Republicans that it’s not a big deal. So I also think the way this is presented in conservative media, how visible Trump’s illness is — all of that matters for how people respond.

It’s true that the partisan response is pretty baked in at this point. But if Trump gets really sick, I could see that changing. Of course, if Republican governors start being more cautious with restrictions again and more people lose their jobs — that raises questions for whether a new stimulus package might actually get off the ground, too. I remain skeptical that will happen! But maybe there’s more pressure to break the stalemate in Congress?

sarah: There are a number of possibilities here, the most pressing one, of course, is that Trump can’t campaign — not to mention if Vice President Mike Pence has to step in. What should we be looking for as this story develops?

ameliatd: Trump’s symptoms are obviously a big one. And if they’re serious, there might be calls to take him off the ballot.

Also, Biden’s testing status — which we should know sooner than Trump’s symptoms, I would think.

natesilver: Right, part of what makes this tough to predict — and I’m not against prediction! — is that we don’t yet know if Trump will have a mild or severe case, how many people in his orbit are also infected, whether Biden is infected, etc.

perry: Assuming Trump recovers, what does his campaign look like on Oct. 16? Is he still holding big rallies? Is he wearing a mask? Are his staffers? Does the Oct. 22 debate take place, and in person? What about the Oct. 15 one? Is he further dismissing the virus because he survived it?

natesilver: Let’s also keep in mind that the recovery process isn’t quick for some people. It can take months, or longer — long-term COVID symptoms are scary.

#IFTTT #Politics – FiveThirtyEight #politics #538 #A FiveThirtyEight Chat

[elulallemant-d]

Prince Charming

Ch.1/?

No way this was reality, it had to be a fairytale. For sure. He’d seen how laid back and effortlessly endearing Prince Charming was in the movies, but this, this was a whole new level.

-

OR in which lucas applies for a job at disneyland and oh my god, the guy who plays prince charming is way too attractive for his own good

read on ao3!!

———

Lucas spent majority of his life making bad decisions.

Of course — most of the time — he wasn’t aware of them. Making the same mistakes every time oddly kept him going. Like one time where he skipped just a few needed hours of sleep to watch only a few more documentaries on extracurricular beings. Those few hours would’ve proably given him a higher mark and save himself from thinking about how aliens could destroy most continents in a second throughout majority of his economics exam. That became what he’d call, a problem he’d deal with later, once it was deemed relevant.

On the bright side, that inconvenience urged him to do better than a D-, miraculously raising to a B+, which was a win in his book. It was a pass and that was frankly all he needed. Lucas always told himself that problems like these would always give him solutions. He just needed time to process them and come up with one.

Except, he wasn’t seeing a solution right now. That was when he started doubting his entire life assumptions.

“I swear I was supposed to get paid today,” Lucas curses, look up to a disappointed Mika who was impatiently tapping his foot against the floorboard. His roommate, who was still waiting for his share of the rent even after he promised it multiple times, knew his excuses by heart and wasn’t having it.

“Huh, is that so? I’m not seeing any money,” Mika questions, his eyebrow shooting up as he exaggeratedly looks around the room. His gaze eventually falls on Lisa, who paid minimal attention to them, but metaphorically, it was probably more than what Lucas paid for their shared apartment. “Lisa, dear, sweetheart, the only other person who helps me pay rent, do you see any of Lucas’ money?”

She made a disapproving sound, somewhat like a grunt as she shook her head the same time Lucas sighs and slips deeper into the ratted couch, hoping it would eventually swallow him whole. He just wants to get out of this so he could eventually think of a solution.

He knew this would bite him in the ass soon enough, and here it finally was. Naggingly biting him. This wasn’t an inconvenience he could put off for later. He’d used his ‘later’ pass way too many times for it to work now. “I just need a little more time, I’ll get it soon, I promise.”

Mika groans, flailing his hands up as he does a small turn, his hunched back now facing Lucas. “Lulu, listen,” he whines, turning on his heel to face him, “I love you, really, but honestly, truthfully, lovingly, you’ve said that way too many times for me to count over the last few months, and it isn’t getting any better, believe me.”

“What am I supposed to do,” Lucas plays the vulnerable card, “I’m trying, but a coffee shop isn’t going to supply me with riches out of no where,” he deals.

“That’s your problem to fig—“

Lisa barks out laughing, interrupting Mikas’ lucteur, “Lucas, the beast kind of looks like you.” Only then did Lucas realise she was watching Beauty and the Beast, which made sense since she let out continuous comments about fault decisions and poor clothing choices.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Lucas bites back, “he’s a prince.”

“Your reasoning sucks,” Lisa rolls her eyes, losing the playfulness she had in her only seconds ago. Her mood shifts were something no one really looked into, even though it was kind of concerning.

Without second thought, Lucas braces himself for Mika to continue his abnormally long speech about commitment so he could think of a solution after, but new words never came from his mouth. As soon as Lucas’ eyes fell back on him, he seemed deep in thought, and in the following second, his posture suddenly straightened along with his eyes lighting up. He might as well hold a light bulb over his head for added effect.

“Arthur and Basile work at Disney Land, right?” Mika tests, his voice lingering with excitement as he mentioned Lucas’ friends.

“Yeah?” Lucas questions cautiously, cursing his mind for not comprehending what was happening.

“You’ve got the hair for it,” Mika nods to no one in particular, running his eyes up and down Lucas’ body multiple times, “and it’s only a thirty minute train ride from here.”

Sometimes, Lucas knew exactly what was going to happen before it was initiated. In other times, he was completely lost. He sat with his legs crossed, squinting his eyes at Mika as if a script of answers would roll down his face at any given minute. Maybe if he stared hard enough, it would work.

Then suddenly, it clicked.

“No,” Lucas hurriedly states, as if his declaration wouldn’t be valid if he didn’t say it quick enough, “Absolutely not. I’ll find another way. I am not doing this.”

“How many ways are you going to go through, though?” Mika grins, a smug, knowing look plastered on his face as if he’d found the solution to all the worlds problems.

Lucas wasn’t having this. He jumps out of his previously comfortable seat, shaking his head, “I’m serious, Mika, I’m not going to dress up and waste my time for kid’s entertainment.”

“As previously stated, I love you,” Mika pulls his lips together with a single nod, his voice going high pitch as he solemnly places his hands on Lucas’ shoulders, “but this is what you’re doing because Lisa and I cant keep paying extra for the rent. It’s your turn to contribute.”

As much as Lucas wanted to argue, he knew this problem he had caused had no easy solution. None. He was permanently screwed this time.

“It isn’t as bad as you’re making it out to be,” Yann, who offered to accompany Lucas, states, shrugging as he scarfed down a cheap ice cream bar, “You get a discount for most things here and it’s like living in a fairytale. What more could you want?”

“Yeah, you missed the part where I’m supposed to be a human doll,” Lucas groans, grimacing as two screaming kids cross his path.

It’s not that he hated Disney Land, it was quite frankly the opposite. He just really didn’t want to work there. With every step he took down the cartoon-like path, he noted every exit he could find so he could make a break for it once Yann wasn’t looking. Mika pointedly asked Yann to inspect Lucas to make sure he would bail, which Lucas thought was stupid. Does Mika really not trust him with this that much?

“You’re overreacting,” Yann dictates with a deep chuckle, noticing Lucas’ eyes desperately looking for a way out of this, “Mika is getting to the point where he’ll kick you out of you don’t pay.”

Lucas didn’t respond to that, stuffing his hands uncomfortably deep into his pocket. He knew Yann was only joking and Mika wouldn’t actually ask him to leave, but the thought still upset him. Where would he go if he didn’t have that apartment? His dad was the last person he wanted to see and he couldn’t exactly stay at the hospital with his mom. His friends might let him stay a few nights but he wouldn’t want to burden them with his constant presence.

Yann noticed his silence, “I’m joking, man,” he frantically assures, knowing how the subject affected him.

“I know,” Lucas shakes his head, pushing it off, “it’s alright, I know.”

Before Yann could speak up again, Basile jumps into Lucas’ peripheral, startling the younger boy.

“Lulu!” he beams, engulfing Lucas into his arms as he jumps at the same time, “I’m so excited— You’re finally joining us!”

“Against my own will,” Lucas struggles to let out with Basile surprisingly crushing his chest with his thin arms.

Basile jumps back, “Arthur and the others are just about to start a performance,” Basile grabs them both by the forearm, leaving no time for discussion, “you can see what you’ll be doing!”

Basile leads them to what seems like a sea of people and Lucas absolutely dreads it. The last thing he needs is to get all sweaty and uncomfortable between so many people just go watch some people dance around a stage in tacky costumes. He didn’t need to waste his time like this, he could just apply for the job and get on with it.

“You’d fit as Eric from The Little Mermaid,” Basile beams, some how simultaneously eyeing Lucas up and down all whilst leading them through numerous people, “no, no, Flynn from Tangled. You have his personality.”

Lucas didn’t bother thinking into it. He could dress up as a pet sidekick from any movie and he’d be cotent. If he got paid enough.

Sooner than later, they make it to the front of the crowd, a few kids sitting at their feet in front of them with wide, glowing eyes. Lucas thought they were a little too close than needed. Why would he need to see them at such a short distance? He knows Arthur and some of the girls, and he felt highly uncomfortable in the front centre.

He was about to comment on it before loud, booming trumpets fill the arena, cheers erupting from every direction. Lucas knew if he tried to speak to Basile or Yann, it would he as if an insect was whispering, so he gave it no thought and forced himself to at least try pay attention.

Lucas immediately recognises Daphne as she comes spinning out from behind a tall castle, her huge cerulean blue dress flowing with her as she bounces and twirls around. Lucas had to admit the backstage crew must’ve done a great job. Her hair was in an elegant braid at the top of her head, a small bun at the back with hefty hair flowing behind her. He immediately recognised her as Cinderella. Huh, it really suited her.

A few more of the girls enter the stage, equally astonishing in extra dresses. He ticked off Sleeping Beauty, Tiana, Elsa, Anna and a few more he couldn’t recognise. They flashed bright smiles and synchronised their dance moves, following the beat. After a few minutes of repetitive dancing, Lucas grew bored. His focus drifted elsewhere, turning to Basile who was tapping his foot to the beat with the same excited expression. He really didn’t understand the passion.

The music suddenly pauses, the princess’ on the stage holding their position with distressed expressions. It was a predictable plot. Lucas knew the Prince would pop out and ‘save their damsel in distress’ and they’d do some dances and it’d be over. Thankfully.

Lucas would much rather be walking around than sitting here and waiting for nothing exciting. A deep drumroll echoed, initiating their arrival with another trumpet sound.

The princes started spilling out with tight suits and tousled hair. He noticed Arthur, someone playing Alladin, Li Shang, Prince Eric, Prince Philip and—

Oh.

In that moment, Lucas was sure he was the one paying the most attention once Prince Charming was revealed.

The other characters seemed undoubtedly irrelevant all of a sudden, except for one. This one wore an unfairly tight yellow suit which hugged his body snugly around his waist, arms and legs. His hair was a whole mess, but, holy shit, that’s the hottest mess Lucas has ever seen. His face. What the fuck. His face. He had a literal shining smile, teeth and all and his eyes were shining in a complex green concept.

This boy made exaggerated leaps which really frustratingly flexed his muscles against the already tight suit. Him, and of course the others, went up to the still frozen princess’, breaking them out of their trance and lifting them by their waist in a spin. That boy held Daphne with a tight grip, his tousled hair bouncing with every step.

Lucas thought it couldn’t get more overwhelming.

Just when he thought that, the boys eyes scanned the crowd, and his eyes eventually fell on Lucas, looking him right in the eyes.

Lucas knew standing in the front was a huge fucking mistake.

The boy doesn’t break contact as he pauses with the others, the girls dancing around them in short leaps, but Lucas paid them no attention, only watching the boy who now had a hint of a smirk playing on the corner of his lips.

Lucas had a sudden urge to feel those lips.

They stayed that way, stuck in their own world for what seemed like a second to a whole year. Lucas was convinced he was daydreaming. Just to be sure, he broke the tense contact just to turn around and make sure there wasn’t an attractive woman behind him who was probably the boys’ girlfriend. To no avail, there were only a group of adults and children in his view, and when he looked back, Prince Charming was still eyeing him with the same intense look, except he had a glowing smile on this time.

Lucas was sure his mouth was hanging open and he probably looked like an idiot in front of this guy, but couldn’t remember how to function at this point.

Suddenly, cheers and screams erupted. Lucas visibly jumped, losing contact just to make sure he wasn’t getting attacked, and when he looked back, the boy was gone.

What the fuck just happened?

“Lucas?” Yann whistles, waving his hand in front of Lucas’ face, “Hello? Dude, it wasn’t that extraordinary.”

Lucas thought the complete opposite, the green-blue eyes engraved in his memory.

“So,” Basile leads, still jumping in his seat, “how was it?”

“Uh,” Lucas mumbles, desperately trying to organise his scrambled thoughts, “yeah.”

Basile raises an eyebrow, “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Lucas nods along, gaining an ounce of consciousness, “it was okay.”

“Great!” Basile laughs, “So you’ll sign up?”

Lucas initially saw himself saying no. He could find another job which would pay him enough. He didn’t need to necessarily do this, he just had to prove Mika wrong and he could get along with his life. He literally dreaded this merely minutes ago.

But, then again, he really wanted to get to know Prince Charming.

Before he could make a coherent sentence denying his request, his heart was speaking before his brain.

“Yes,” Lucas firmly agrees, those eyes lingering, ”I will.”

Well fuck, now he’s permanently screwed.

#elu #elu fic #elu fanfiction #skam france #skam fr #eliott demaury #lucas lallemant #maxence danet fauvel #axel auriant #eliott x lucas #manon demissy #daphne lecomte #yann cazas #arthur #basile #skam

[sarcastically-defensive17]

Times Like These - LRH. Chapter 1 - 2 months, 7 days, 6 hours and 11 minutes

It had been exactly 2 months, 7 days, 6 hours and 11 minutes since he had moved in.

It's not that she would want to see him out on the streets, or mooching off of their kind grandmother anymore than he had. She knew the spare room in her fathers' house was the best place for him.

It's not even that she didn't like being around him. It was that she hated his smug, self-centered attitude, and the blatant narcissism that rolled off of his tongue with every syllable drawn from his viper mouth.

In short, she hated her cousin.

He was two years her junior and acted as if he was the be all and end all of the universe. Now, Audrey would never admit it, but she could be rather selfish. In specific circumstances, she could be arrogant, but unlike her frustrating cousin, she has the capabilities of acknowledging the feelings of others.

Despite what her father says.

Jason Bernard Clifford, often called J.B by family and his overly obnoxious 'popular' friends, was the very bane of her existence.

She had just settled Alexis. Just as the little girls' brown eyes closed, obnoxious music blared through the upper story of the house.

The 10 month old jolted awake and adopted a deep frown on her face as she jutted her bottom lip out.

Audrey released a growl from her throat, pulling the babe into her hip and shushing her. It took almost 15 minutes to get her back to the point before sleep, and when they reached it, she was out of the room.

She stomped towards his bedroom, the same room that used to belong to her brother, and threw the door open only to be met with the strong stench of marijuana and the unmistakable toxic fog of teenage boy.

"Jason, for the love of god-"

"What the fuck do you want now?" He snapped, not even looking up from his video game at the presence of his cousin.

There was a pale yellow bong resting on the floor next to his leg, and garbage and clothes strewn over the entirety of the room.

She sighed through her nose, closing her eyes for a minute as she restrained her mind from delving into the idea of giving the boy a concussion.

"How many times do I need to remind you that there are other people that live in this house? I'm convinced that you enjoy watching Lexi stay awake all night because of your shitty mumble rap!" The same event had happened 3 times this week. It was only Thursday.

"Whatever," he still didn't bring his eyes from the screen.

She huffed, stepping in his vision and blocking the television, "You are unbelievable."

The thing about J.B, was that he could go from 0 to 100 in a matter of seconds when it came to his elder cousin.

They hadn't gotten along since they were little. In fact, he hadn't gotten along with many family members, the exception being his doting uncle Daryl.

"I'm unbelievable?"

"Yes, that's what I said, dumbass."

"Oh, you're such a little princess. Maybe if you pulled the stick out of your ass you could loosen up," he snapped, a sadistic laugh falling from his lips at the end.

"What the hell did you just say to me?" She growled, her eyes flaming with anger.

She had simply gone to his room to remind him that there are other people present in the house as well and to ask him to turn down his incessant noise. It was a very real possibility that the interaction would result in an argument, but to be honest, she was fine with that.

The boy irked her to no extent. He was 17 but acted as if he owned the house and could make the rules, and to her, it seemed like that was the reality.

Jason could do no wrong in her fathers' eyes, and it had been like that since Michael left and her parents marriage fell apart.

Her mother, the lovely Karen, was on a pilgrimage of Europe with her sister. A trip that Audrey rejected going on, for the sake of her university degree and her daughter. As such, the youngest Clifford child moved in with her father, despite her being old enough to live on her own.

University was economically draining, as well as emotionally. The only escape Audrey had was the casual job she had at the local tattoo parlor.

And even the money she made there wasn't enough to pay rent, travel, food for the two and babysitting.

"I said, you should try pulling the stick out of your ass, you uptight little-"

"Do you two ever stop fighting?" they both turned their heads to be met with the sight of the blond man she called her father.

Immediately she felt her eyes roll back into her skull, knowing that the argument will be brushed off and she will soon take her place cleaning the war zone in the kitchen.

"Sorry Uncle Daryl," Jason murmured, shoving his hands into the pockets of his grey sweats and adopting an innocent look. "I asked Audrey to clean the mess she made in the kitchen and she just blew up at me!"

"What? It wasn't my mess!" She screeched, raising her arms in the air when her father nodded at the boys words. Typical of Jason to change the topic. And her father would always believe it as well.

"I honestly think it may be that time of the month again," He whispered to his uncle, following it closely with a deep cringe.

Her father opened his mouth to answer the boy, a sympathetic look directed at him, but was cut off by the sound of Audrey grunting and stomping out of the room.

"I'm sorry about her, Jason. You know how ladies get at that time," she could basically hear the cringe on her fathers face as the words sounded through the thin walls.

She slammed her bedroom door behind her, and the sound of her 'Piss off, Jason' sign hitting the ground tore another growl from her throat.

Times like these, she wished for nothing more than her brother to talk to, or her mother to come back to Australia so she could move in with her. Instead, she was stuck in her old family home, with a man she thought too immature to be any sort of parental figure, and a teenage delinquent whose only purpose in life was to make hers and her daughters hell.

Audrey had more important things to focus on rather than the two impossible males she lived with.

She had first-year University work piling up, bags under her pale green eyes and an influx of shifts coming up in the next two weeks and a teething baby who was going through a hair pulling phase.

Unsurprisingly, she longed for the days when the only worry she had was kicking Michael's ass in Guitar Hero.

After a few hours of stewing in her bedroom, she had a shower to alleviate some stress. She decided her monthly self-care routine would be the best way to unwind in preparation for a long day of work as Lexi was sleeping peacefully in her crib.

Her mother had sent her a two tubs of a blueberry extract hair mask from France with her last postcard, and Audrey adored the substance. She had already planned to make a trip to the country in the future simply to get more of the product.

She was so exhausted by the time she was layering it on her blonde hair that she didn't pay particular attention to the overly blue colour of the product, nor did she make sure to keep her eyes open for the ten minutes it was meant to stay in her hair.

45 minutes later, she woke up and upon realizing she forgot to rinse her hair, went to do so; only to emerge with patches of blue dye coating her naturally blonde locks.

The entire house, and the neighbours surrounding it, were woken abruptly at 11:30PM by the sound of Audrey Clifford screeching her cousin's name at the top of her lungs and the aggressive grunts from Alexis as she woke with a start.

#luke hemmings #book #chapter 1 #michael clifford #clifford!oc #audrey clifford #alexis clifford #ashton irwin #calum hood #Daryl clifford #Karen clifford #Jason Bernard Clifford #luke hemmings x oc #luke hemmings fanfiction

[local-girl-tries-her-best]

Tips for Kicking A** on the AP Euro Exam

Hey kiddies, so it’s reached that time of year where all AP students are reduced to balls of stress as ExamCrunch is upon us. As a vet of the AP Euro trenches, and a current soldier in the trenches of APUSH, I just wanted to drop some of the things I’ve learned over the years as well as things I wish I had done. 

Tips under the cut:

i. Studying the Actual Content

All history courses can typically be broken down into a series of periods. The different periods will contain different important events; now I don’t know them off the top of my head for Euro, but you can easily google them or ask your teacher! These are super helpful for going through and figuring out what you don’t know. And here’s how to use this: 

 go over the things you know you don’t know very well first (kind of obvious, but surprisingly overlooked)

don’t feel like you need to know every single piece of specific information; as long as you know and understand a general timeline and how events fit into the bigger, overarching picture (like cause & effect, how did an event influence later events) you’ll be peachy!

that being said, do know the dates to the super duper influential events (i.e. war years, English Bill of Rights, etc)

for me personally, I can’t study by just rereading notes, so Crash Course is super helpful in helping to understand the impact of different events and I also watched some of Tom Richey’s videos to help myself review

make sure you are actually studying and not cramming! I know I’m notorious for not studying until the couple days before exams, but cramming is not effective! you’re more likely to forget information and also spaced studying (studying periodically) is actually shown to help you retain information better 

honestly I just really cannot stress enough the importance of understanding the consequences and implications of historical events. this is what the exam is testing, not just your ability to memorize dates. so make sure that, as you’re studying, that you know why an event was important and not just when it happened.

I know a lot of that sounded like just general studying advice, but trust me! It’s the little things that make a big difference. 

But on to the next thing: the dreaded DBQ. Now if you’re like me, you likely feel pretty good about the multiple choice and are just worried about how the DBQ will go down. Because duh, you’re expected to write an essay with supporting evidence about a currently unknown topic, that’s really intimidating. So here’s some advice on how to write a hella DBQ.

ii. Writing the Essay

before you even look at the documents, read the prompt and start listing everything you know about the prescribed time period, both pertaining to the focus of the prompt and general info. I find this to be immensely helpful and stops me from using the documents as a crutch for the essay. Not only can this help you organize your essay, but it gives you a wealth of things to use as outside evidence and even some things that may help you do extended analysis! 

writing your intro: personally, I try to pick one part of the prompt and just sort of expand on it. For example, if the prompt asks how (country) changed socially, politically, economically following (event) during (time period), start your context by taking about what the country is like historically, tapering down so that by the time you reach the end of your intro, your context provides an easy segue into your thesis. 

speaking of, don’t half-ass your intro! your intro alone is how you can secure 2 out of 7 points on this essay. It’s important and is the building block for your entire essay!

try your best to use all of the documents! while some documents may not seem pertinent, college board will not give you redundant docs. It’s best to use as many docs as you can because if one of them isn’t used correctly, there are others that you can fall back on for points. It’s like essay insurance. 

start off with your point before introducing the document. this also goes into the point of not using the docs as a crutch. If you start by stating the point and then using the doc as support, I find that this helps me find a smoother transition into both extended analysis and outside evidence. 

also just a general writing preference: something I like to start my body paragraphs with my best paragraph first, ending with my second best, and then putting my worst in between the two. I’ll change this depending on the essay though, you just have to decide what will flow the best. 

your conclusion: there’s not a lot of advice to be said, as your conclusion is just a rewording of your thesis. However, I will pass down a little writing advice that my Euro teacher told me. Your essay is like a cul-de-sac in the way where you start and end with your thesis. But keeping that in mind, when you restate your thesis in the conclusion, list your last paragraph first and then end with your first (this also goes with what I said in the previous bullet).

Overall, your DBQ is really only as good as your understanding of the content. Like yeah you can technically BS this essay, but the best way to feel confident in your writing is really knowing the actual content. As I said before, the exam is not testing your ability to memorize dates, it’s testing your ability to put things into a larger historical picture.

iii. Before the Exam 

The AP Euro exam is an afternoon exam so you have your entire morning, use it! I don’t recommend studying the day of the exam. By this point you know everything that you are going to know. But here are some things that I did just to calm my nerves and to go into the exam with low stress.

Pot some plants. You can take this both literally and metaphorically. I did actually pot plants the morning of my exam because it’s a calm activity that keeps my mind busy and quiet. You can try some mindful meditation or even doing some spring cleaning. Really just anything that will keep you from psyching yourself out.

AP Euro Breakfast w/ Tom Richey. Now I know I said not to study the day of the exam, but I will make an exception for this. I am a huge fan of livestreams and podcasts for the simple reason that they keep my thoughts from becoming scattered. This livestream had a similar effect for me as well as it helped me to just kind of recall some events I may have forgotten without the stress of last minute cramming. It’s super chill and something I really recommend. 

Drink water. You are about to test for a whopping 3 1/2 hours, it’s important that you are taking care of your mind. It’s simple but drinking water always helps me feel refreshed and clean. 

Breathe. You got this. You have spent the last nine months crawling through the trenches of AP Euro and this is where you can finally show off all your hard work. No matter what happens, or how you feel after the exam, you’ve done a really challenging thing and saw it through until the end. You just have to believe in yourself and trust in your abilities. 

I hope that at least a few things on this list have helped you or lessened your stress about the upcoming exam. I wish all you luck and here’s one last pro tip: go eat some waffles after the exam, they make everything better.

#studyblr #ap euro #ap european history #study tips #exam tips #long post #i really hope these help #study motivation #studyspo #history #writing a dbq #essays

[pass-the-bechdel]

Marvel Cinematic Universe: Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)

Does it pass the Bechdel Test?

Yes, twice.

How many female characters (with names and lines) are there?

Eight (34.78% of cast).

How many male characters (with names and lines) are there?

Fifteen.

Positive Content Rating:

Three.

General Film Quality:

Neither characters nor plot are engaging enough to hold strong interest, making the film feel longer than it is, plus there’s one character in particular whose behaviour seriously rankles. It’s not a terrible movie, but it is thoroughly uninspiring.

MORE INFO (and potential spoilers) UNDER THE CUT:

Passing the Bechdel:

Liz manages a brief pass with her mother before the dance. Liz says goodbye to Betty.

Female characters:

Betty Brant.

Liz Toomes.

Michelle.

Marjory.

May Parker.

Karen.

Mrs Toomes.

Pepper Potts.

Male characters:

Adrian Toomes.

Mason.

Peter Parker.

Happy Hogan.

Tony Stark.

Jason Ionelli.

Ned.

Flash.

Abraham.

Mr Delmar.

Gary.

Steve Rogers.

Coach Wilson.

Shocker.

Aaron Davis.

OTHER NOTES:

Ah, here’s Peter’s video log from Civil War, where he has no idea why he’s even there and it’s completely irresponsible and inappropriate for Tony to have brought him in on something catastrophically dangerous with no preparation and none of the knowledge necessary to make an informed decision! I hate it. This makes me extremely hate Tony. I know I mentioned it already when I reviewed Civil War, but it’s super-true and not going to change any time soon. 

See, this thing where Peter is sacrificing academic and social experiences to hang out for Tony’s promised phone call? That’s on Tony. You can’t just rope a kid into your bullshit and then kick him back out into the world with a vague false promise and no follow-up of any kind. That’s not how kids work. It’s not fair to people in general, but it is especially not how kids work.

Peter having to run because he’s in the suburbs and there are no tall buildings is probably the best gag in this movie.

The inclusion of that little detail about the Washington Monument being built by slaves. Mmmhmm.

I find the plotting of this film very dull and predictable, like ‘oh, and now we’ll have another action set piece, now some cutesy highschool stuff’, etc, and as such I feel it drags excessively and I’m just sitting here waiting for each bit to be done with so that we can get to the next, so that it can be over too, because I’m not attached enough to any one or thing that’s happening for the predictable beats to hold internal interest. That said, the Washington Monument piece is pretty good.

The ludicrous ferry accident, not so much.

Tony shows up, lot of shit-talking, blaming Peter for not magically intuiting information which Tony didn’t give him. Urgh. I deeply, deeply hate this version of Tony. 

Toomes reveal is the most inspired choice of the film. Keaton kills it on Toomes’ own revelation of Peter’s identity.

This movie sure does go on.

This ‘screwed the pooch’ joke makes me want to bleach my ears. Also, this whole Avenger/press conference business is still Tony completely failing to appreciate how he’s upended this kid’s life; the right thing to do in this situation is not to lean into it and go ‘ok, but what if I upended it...more?’, just like the right way to deal with it was emphatically not to just kick the kid to the curb to figure things out for himself after that initial upending. I imagine I would have enjoyed this film sooo much more if I were not raging at Tony throughout.

Ok, let me just purge on the Tony thing before I go any further, otherwise I’m never gonna be able to focus properly on the rest of the movie. I hate what they’ve done with Tony. That’s obvious. I really, deeply disagree with it. Tony was a hard character to get to like, but the Iron Man films did really solid, intelligent work at achieving it despite the many and sundry hurdles, and the key to that was the fact that they had Tony, consistently, recognising the ways that his actions hurt others and then making the effort to fix that and fix himself, not just blowing it off, making some flashy gesture or throwing some money at the problem and then breezing on out like everything’s fine and none of it’s on him. The Avengers films - particularly Ultron - did significant work at tarnishing the character development of the Iron Man films, and then Civil War came in and - amidst the many, many sins Tony committed in that movie - handed the introduction of Spider-Man over to Tony in an act of incredibly irresponsible and reckless child endangerment, which this film proceeded to double-down on by having Tony completely fail to be a reasonable, thinking adult at any point. Frankly, I don’t feel that Tony’s initial decision to involve Peter in Civil War is forgivable, there’s no walking that back, but the least he could have done is to recognise that fact and make appropriate amends, which - as above - does not mean ignoring the kid any more than it means pandering to his hero complex. It makes me feel really, really old to be saying it, but Peter is a minor, he doesn’t have a strong perspective on the world yet, but he’s also old enough and wise enough that he can’t just have people throwing rules at him and expecting obedience; he needs to be treated with the respect of having things explained, but he also needs oversight because he isn’t mature enough to make choices without it. He needs guidance. That’s the position which Tony actively puts himself in and then fails to follow through on, and it leaves Peter feeling that he has to prove himself, that he has to further endanger himself in order to win the mentorship that Tony promised. As a character response and an emotional position for Peter, that’s great story fodder and logical follow-on from his introduction, and I can’t fault that. For Tony Stark though, who manages to both start and end this movie without actually learning anything, it makes me infuriated beyond belief.

THAT SAID, let’s segue to the natural place: to Peter. The good news is, if this film gets only one thing right, it’s that very precise balance of Peter’s age, with all its accompanying tumult; Peter is mature enough to feel like he’s in control of his life and choices and capable of taking on new, big, adult things, but not mature enough to realise the limitations that come with his age in terms of experience and worldview. He has that ‘teenagers think they know everything’ factor, but without it being conveyed as either too arrogant or too whiny to be palatable. It’s a tough ask for teen characters, generally, as the creative forces behind them are almost invariably adults (and usually have been for quite some time), and it’s hard to recapture the mentality of a teen once you’ve grown beyond that mentality yourself. When Peter declares that school doesn’t matter anymore because he’s ‘probably never coming back’, he’s gonna become an Avenger and that’s his whole life plan right now, no real details, no clarity in what exactly that means for his day-to-day life or where he gets his income or how things might go in the long term, that’s a classic teen moment for him: his future is a concept, all of its parts internally encompassed, and it’s not just that he dismisses the questions, logistics, and concerns that an adult would know to raise, it’s that these things don’t even occur to him in the first place. Peter is in this middle-position, the transition from child to adult, and he’s not as far through that transition as he thinks he is (teenagers never are). Altogether, I may not be enamoured by this film, nor am I especially compelled by Tom Holland’s take on this character (he’s not bad, he’s just...not that enthralling, either), but the particular pitch of Peter’s mentality is spot-on without being, in itself, just another tromp through dull and overwrought teen-angst cliches.

The rest of the movie, on the other hand...I feel kinda bad about spending that over-long first paragraph railing against a certain billionaire who could have done us all a favour and not been in this film (or at least, not as prominently), giving Peter more of a chance to explore his spider-self and what it means to his life on his own terms, instead of being so heavily influenced by how he fits into the wider universe, and then maybe we could have fleshed out more of Peter’s normal life in order to make all the extraneous pieces of this story more meaningful, and less, y’know, extraneous. As-is, I don’t feel like I’ve got a lot to say about it, it’s fairly generic and unremarkable, and while there are some good set-up pieces - Toomes’ whole descent-to-criminal-enterprise-due-to-economic-pressures thing has great narrative potential and scope for reflection upon capitalism in the real world - the story never explores any of those pieces enough to even half-ass a real analysis of the idea. Toomes is rendered a mostly stock villain, the same as Liz gets little to make her more than a bland Love Interest, May is an interchangeable maternal figure, and Ned - while fun and easily a highlight in a cast that’s hardly vying for the title - is also a bit of a heavy-handed stereotype sitting in the comic relief/sidekick chair (the fact that he essentially references this in-story, fourth-wall-denting style, does not make it less uninspired). And I’m not sure how we’re supposed to see Zendaya’s MJ as anything other than a gimmick at this point, kinda seems like she was literally only there so that her preferred name could be used as a weightless ‘reveal’ at the end. Like I said up in the notes, I found the movie to be excessively predictable in a bad way, bringing me out of the viewing experience to count off the minutes and story beats, and as such, even though this is not the worst film Marvel has churned out to date, it is one of my least favourites. I know there are a lot of people who loved it, who love Tom Holland’s version of Peter Parker and found this movie light and fun, and it’s not that I can’t see where they’re coming from with that...I guess it’s just that whatever parts of the story are self-contained are so recycled from so many other films of this ilk, I can’t find anything to attach to, and then the rest of the story which could have been spent making something a little more interesting from those basic, predictable bones, instead is wasted on an over-emphasis on placing this movie into the MCU’s larger framework (an ironic waste of resources since you can easily skip this film without getting confused watching the next MCU movies with Spider-Man in them, Infinity War and Endgame). Anyway. I fear I’m just gonna start repeating myself for lack of anything else to say; I don’t care for this movie, it had at least a good little piece of heart in it but it wasted too much time on things which did not enhance this story or the wider universe anyway, I hate Tony Stark now. The end.

#Marvel Cinematic Universe #MCU #Spider-Man: Homecoming #Bechdel Test #female representation #Spider-Man