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#i'm almost done just needs a conclusion and then i have a small project to do for an art class
jitterbugjive · 1 month
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I hate that people can easily find the stupid and shitty things I said and did over 5 years ago and jump to the conclusion that that's who I am, and there's no easy way for anyone to see all the efforts I've been making since then to NOT be that person. It's hard to find all my apologies and explanations because I didn't tag them all properly. I've tried time and time again to explain that I was mimicking the behavior bad adults gave me when I was growing up and that no one really called me out on that behavior until it was too late. I've tried to explain that since then I've been going through extensive therapy to separate bad learned behavior from who I want to actually be. There's so much more to this whole story than what one small chunk of the internet is making it out to be. People who actually know me know that this has been eating me up constantly and that I am always living in fear of losing everything to this drama.
especially since some of that info takes quotes out of context, jumps to conclusions that aren't true, or flat out lies about what certain artworks are depicting or meaning to convey (Like claiming a grown ass adult is a child even tho I have proof the character looks totally different as an adult than as a child, or claiming that a shock piece meant to make people reel back in horror was a fetish when it was not at all that)
It takes clips of things without the full picture and puts words in my mouth.
Here's a little something about how I used to talk about sore subjects: I would make a controversial sounding statement, but then I would explain myself in a way that would show the statement wasn't as bad as I was making it out to be. A lot of the time they just take that bad statement and paste it for the world to see, without giving any of that context of me explaining why I said that and why it's not what it sounds like.
I wish people were smart enough to spot cherry picking when they see it, but they just aren't. They'll see one sentence, and someone saying "look they're supporting this bad thing" and that's all they need to think that's what it is. People aren't smart enough to really ask questions and try to understand a situation, all they want is face value to tell them how to think and feel.
People aren't going to bother to listen to me because I'm "the bad guy" and I'll "say anything to cover my ass".
Listen, if I was really that horrible of a person, don't you think there would be more evidence out there that is very clear and blunt and not just making assumptions on what a thing means?
I'm never gonna sit here and say what I said and did wasn't wrong, it was, but it was not done because I was trying to be a terrible person or prey on anyone. It was because I was insanely misguided by someone who groomed me for 5 years since childhood and then abused me for another 3 in a really toxic relationship. And then I never got HELP for it, I never got therapy to cope with it, I never even realized until way later that 'holy shit this person was 7 years older than me and was taking advantage of me the whole time'. Like I knew they were abusive but adults being friends with children was so normalized in my head, and throughout my life many adults or older kids exposed me to things I shouldn't have been and it skewed in my head what was appropriate behavior or not. Or what was okay to draw or not. And a lot of my opinions were formed around this adult who convinced me things like loli/shota were fine as long as they were strictly made up, and he fed me a lot of nonsense about what does and doesn't make a predator to cover his own ass. I was seriously fucked up almost beyond repair for a long time.
I have a warning on my blog now that minors shouldn't be following me, I make it a point to not ever work with minors on projects or talk to a minor in any capacity beyond a fan to artist relationship. I understand now that it is my responsibility as a NSFW artist that I simply cannot have minors as friends. And being much older now I don't even want minors as friends anyway. When I was in my early 20s the age gap didn't feel as bad but I'm definitely feeling it now and I just don't want to deal with minors any more.
I'm not a danger to anyone, I'm not spewing apologetics for horrible people, I've been doing my best to be a much better and more informed person
And I have no easy way to prove any of it in a way that will matter
I'm only talking about this now because once again I was kicked out of something because someone found that old info and that was all it took. No one cares about my side of things.
And I don't know if this will ever go away
I don't know if I'll ever find any amount of comfortable success because I can't get rid of this shit and on the internet it doesn't matter how long ago you did something or how much you've changed, you did it and therefor you're bad forever.
I hate this shit so much.
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wastelesscrafts · 2 years
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Project: ramie dress refashion
Introduction:
I've got this ramie dress that doesn't really suit me. It fits, but the shoulders are too wide and the skirt part looks weird on me. I usually wear skirts with a lot of volume because skirts without it look wonky because of my scoliosis.
The fabric's lovely though, so I decided to rework it into a shirt.
The project:
The dress is made out of a woven fabric. It has no closures and is meant to slip over your head. The short sleeves and rounded collar have been shaped with pleats. It came with a sash to be worn around the hips, which I forgot to photograph.
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[ID: a light brown ramie dress hanging from a wooden hanger in front of a white background. The dress has short sleeves and a round pleated collar.]
I indicated my waist and hips on the dress with a chalk line, then drew a third line about 5cm below the hips to serve as seam allowance.
I cut off the bottom of the dress at the third line.
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[ID: a light brown dress lying on a black and white chequered floor. Three horizontal pink lines have been drawn on it with chalk: one at the waist, one at the hips, and one 5cm below the hips.]
The shoulders were slightly too wide for me, so I used a small pleat similar to the ones used at the neckline and sleeves to make them smaller. This made the top much more flattering on me. I also hemmed the bottom edge.
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[ID: a light brown dress lying on a black and white chequered floor. The skirt part has been cut off right below the hips.]
I put the project aside for a while to think about embellishments as the top was rather plain, and ended up settling for a lace trim at the neckline.
I recently received a parcel of leftover lace from a fellow sewist who was clearing out their stash, and found the perfect beige lace trim. The colour was lighter than the original fabric, but complimented it well. I had just the right amount for this project.
If you're looking for cheap/free notions, do as I do and look around in buy-nothing groups and on second-hand sites. You'd be surprised what you'd find. This particular parcel cost me €15 and contained almost a kilo of high quality lace. It's a win-win situation: the seller got some of their money back, I have enough lace to last me ages, and these trims actually get used instead of thrown away.
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[ID: a light brown shirt lying on a wooden floor. The bottom edge has been hemmed, and beige pointy lace has been sewn around the rounded collar.]
I still had the original sash from the dress. I was considering sewing it onto the top at fist, but I decided to keep it separate. That way, I can both cinch the top at the waist or keep it loose and tuck it into high-waisted pants or a skirt.
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[ID: a light brown shirt lying on a wooden floor. The bottom edge has been hemmed, and beige pointy lace has been sewn around the rounded collar. A sash lies on top of the waist of the top and has been tucked underneath the top.]
All done! All it needs now is a good wash to get rid of the chalk lines.
The excess fabric is now in my sewing stash: it's great quality, so I'm sure I'll find some use for it.
Conclusion:
There was nothing wrong with the original dress, but I just didn't wear it because I didn't like how it looked on me. Instead, I now have a top that flatters me and goes well with the rest of my wardrobe. It'll get much more use this way.
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madd-nix · 3 years
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The Ace Attorney soundtrack is just so perfect for playing on repeat to block out background noise and thoughts while doing homework, and I love that
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swimmingleo · 3 years
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Changes: or to take the higher ground before it's too late
I'm going to be real here folks, I cry ugly tears to this song. Bad.
Changes is a song on Cam's album "The Otherside". It's country, it's folk and it's an album a bit influenced by changes in Cam's life (a change of label, personal life). She collaborated with Harry on the song Changes, as she opened for him on a venue and was already working with Tyler Johnson.
From what I gathered: Harry sent her the demo of the song, implying he made most of the writing on this one. What I'm basing this claim on is her interview for Rolling Stones (read it here):
I heard [the demo] and was just like, “Oh, this ache to outgrow something that you don’t want to outgrow!” It felt so good. I normally don’t take outside songs [...]
‼️DISCLAIMER‼️when analysing this song, I'm gonna go from the idea of it being written with a queer mindset (how surprising of me). Cam rendered the song beautifully and it is very much her own, but I believe Harry's input is consequential. After all that's his lil whistle and cute fishsona in the MV.
Sad queer analysis ahead.
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Let's analyse the lyrics first:
There is a town
Somewhere down a country road
The speaker describes the town to us, from memory, from experience. "There it is, down the road, can you picture it ?"
I see it now
I take it everywhere I go
The speaker doesn't currently live in the town, they're on the move (nice throwback to the coutry road). But despite all the travelling, they realize the sedentary smalltown never leaves them. It's part of them. It left a mark on them.
The river sways, I can almost hear it now
As if to say, "You're not the only one who wants a way out"
The town is so real to the speaker they can sense it, eyes and ears. But it gets a bit dark: the river sways like it's trying to leave its bed. The river is envious of the speaker who managed to leave. The town is so toxic even nature wants to get away from it. Or the speaker resents the town so bad that they project their own resentment on the river.
So, I go
'Cause I don't wanna feel like I don't know you anymore
I memorize those roads
This is the call for the speaker to leave for good. Their motive doesn't seem to be ambitious or anything grand. They leave because they apprehend a feeling. Apprehending a feeling, something that may not even happen, is the way of an anxious person. Anxiety is the motive of their departure. However, they still memorize the roads leading to the town, just in case. Perhaps one day they'll come back.
Somewhere out in the big wild country
Someone's fallin' in love in a backseat
Givin' it away
Like their hearts won't ever break
Suddenly it's about love ! Young love, one that is lived in the small compartment of a car, somewhere hidden and safe in the big wild country. As if the countryside was unexplored and threatening.
God bless the young hearts sippin' cheap wine
Gettin' drunk with their friends for the first time
Thinkin' nothing's gonna change
'Til everything changes
The speaker looks at the youth with tenderness, wishing them the best. But once again, they're not in the town in the present time, they don't see the youngsters fooling around, they can only guess from first-hand experience. And it's very specific: falling in love, getting drunk with friends and thinking everything's gonna be easy like that forever until it's not and heartbreak ensues.
From there I hop in with the raw queer theme of those lyrics. It started by falling in love and it ended up in a heartbreak. In between, the speaker got drunk for the first time with their friends, people they trusted enough to let go a little, but in the end everything changed. Why ? Alcohol makes you forget about code of conduct, how you're supposed to behave. It makes you say or do things you might not have done sober.
We can interprete this chorus as the beginning of the end for the speaker. It's the only part of the song evocating the past, and it's fun and easy, but it's also where things started to get bad the way they are in the present. Something might have happened that first time the speaker got drunk and it marked the end of innocence and careless childhood, and it probably has to do with love as no other factor is provided apart from falling in love and heartbreak.
They never leave
They're all havin' babies now
Watchin' daytime TV
Livin' off the gossip of a cruel small town
They. With Harry, it's always You, Me, and They. They are having babies, all of them, like it's not a very difficult thing to do, it's just natural. They have the leisure of the day, not a thing to worry about, if not gossip. It's not implied anymore, the small town is downright cruel. Gossip fuels it, but on behalf of someone else, and that someone is most definitely the speaker who left and who describes its inhabitants in the most mundane way, perhaps with a hint of contempt. The speaker seems bitter.
So, I go
'Cause I don't wanna feel like you don't know me anymore
Don't recognize my face
Reprise of the pre-chorus except now, the speaker provides another reason for their departure. Not only they feared they wouldn't know the town anymore, they also feared being seen as a stranger. It's not like the speaker actually changed physically: but it might as well feel like it. Again, apprehension, anguish. As implied in the chorus, things changed to the point where the speaker feels they would seem like a whole another person to the rest of the town, a stranger, a threat to the integrity of the conservatives. So they leave before this shift in perception can happen.
There ain't nothing here for me anymore
They say they don't hear from me anymore
And I don't wanna hear it anymore
The town is not outwardly hostile. It's still the town that saw the speaker as a kid. The town doesn't understand why the speaker left, but the speaker won't give in and get in touch. They want to be as far away as possible, until they don't hear the questions, the river, everything. It's almost like the speaker doesn't carry the town in their heart at all. They want to forget it all, and it hurts everytime the town tries to lure them back in. The way Cam sings it is painful to me man
Somewhere out in the big wild country
I was fallin' in love in a backseat
Givin' it away
Like my heart won't ever break
Had such a young heart sippin' cheap wine
Gettin' drunk with my friends for the first time
Thinkin' nothing's gonna change
'Til everything changes
Yeah, just the confirmation of the chorus being the speaker's experience. I went ahead and assumed it was already lol but it's like a plot twist effect. It's dramatic. It's a personal song to someone.
TO MAKE IT SHORT to me this song is intense and very in touch with the queer experience. Though it describes a specific situation, it is surprisingly not that detailed or full of metaphors the way Harry often writes: this town could be literally any smalltown in the countryside. The backseat could be the one of any car, cheap wine is something any teen can afford. I like to think Harry wrote it for himself but is also aware so many people went through the same thing, and still will. I have to admit I'm heavily biased writing this, as the experience of a queer kid struggling to find their place in a well settled smalltown is familiar.
GETTING DRUNK AND QUEER IDENTITY is an analogy Harry already used in Fine Line when he sang "We'll get the drinks in so I'll get to thinking of her". To drink is to let go, to unveil the most subconscious aspects of yourself you might not want to deal with otherwise. You don't care about judgement and you get to explore those parts freely. In Changes, this is the last memory they recall before stating the changes and their departure. Perhaps getting drunk for the first time would be when they realized they're queer. Or acted upon it, causing their little world to shake. They chose to leave before it eventually wouldn't feel like a choice anymore. There is no life for people like them in a cruel smalltown.
SMALLTOWN BOY
This song reminds me an awful lot of Smalltown Boy by Bronski Beat. The song is about a queer boy having to leave the smalltown where he grew up because of persecutions and no future prospects.
Mother will never understand why you had to leave, Smalltown Boy
They say they don't hear from me anymore, Changes
But the answers you seek will never be found at home, the love that you need will never be found at home
There is nothing here for me anymore
Other people not understanding why they leave. People who can't truly empathize even when they mean no harm. They would never understand the speaker's departure, because those people get to find love and have babies and live a peaceful life in the countryside.
You were the one that they'd talk about around town as they put you down
Livin' off the gossip of a cruel small town
Yeah yeah. I really struggle with just seeing this song as nostalgia when such harsh words are being used. I do believe there is a part of fondness for that town, that countryside setting and the early days. But it's not all tender memories.
CHANGES AND ERODA
Of couuuurse we all noticed the adorable purple fish with the pearl necklace. It represents Harry, no question, as it whistles Harry's part. And of couuuuurse we all made the link with the erodian fish, and some even noticed they formed the bluegreener pair when their colors are inverted.
It makes sense for those fishes to be connected with this interpretation of Changes. Both works are about a small town, lost in the nature, where the people are watching, aware of everything that isn't normal, that is peculiar. The early life of the peculiar boy is similar in every way to the early life of the speaker in Changes. The fish in Adore You grows too big for the island and has to leave, and though Eroda makes amends with the peculiar boy, he leaves as well because his future, his fulfilment, is somewhere else. So does the speaker in Changes.
IN CONCLUSION
The more I write posts like this, the more endeared I am by Harry's world. How Harry writes for himself, but also for other people with songs like this. How nature finds its way in all that he does. How grounded he is, how he doesn't seem to forget where he came from. It really is such a rare thing to see in a mainstream popstar's writing and art. How can someone say he sold his soul to LA is beyond me
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givemethatgold · 3 years
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Fix’er Upper Pt. 5
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Pairing: Frankie Morales x F!Reader
Warnings: Mentions of past abusive relationship, swearing, past drug use, alcohol
Word Count: 1.8k
Notes:
Parts ONE, TWO, THREE, FOUR
Your injury, and consequential recovery time, couldn’t have come at a better time. The harvest was done and the apples had to rest before being pressed, which meant Frankie was now free to start working on your home. The work didn’t often require more than two hands so the days found you doing menial tasks being his gopher.
“You know,” Frankie had had to explain to you, “Go’fer this, go’fer that.”
This mainly consisted of you passing him tools while he was swearing under his breath in the attic, or groaning after rapping his knuckles under the sink, or white-faced and clinging to the weathervane on the roof. 
You had discovered Frankie’s sweet tooth on the first day of renovations, not noticing until after he’d left for the day that more than half the cookies you’d baked that morning were already gone. Making sure he was kept happy, you had a new treat ready for when he walked in the door. 
He was a coffee drinker though, and while you owned a coffee press you had never actually used it yourself, preferring tea leaves for your dose of caffeine. You’d tried, the first morning, to make a cup for him. You even googled How to Make a Cup of Coffee? to make sure you didn’t fuck it up. 
You could laugh about it now, but the look on Frankie’s face after he’d taken his first sip made you worry you had poisoned him. He had spat the black sludge out and handed you back the mug with a look of bewildered disgust. Apparently, you needed to grind the beans first, who knew?
An efficient, if not quite comfortable, rhythm had been forged between the two of you over the past week and a half. Frankie would arrive at nine in the morning, scarf down half a dozen treats while discussing the day’s projects. You would run to town in his truck (yours was still at the autobody shop awaiting parts) and buy any supplies that would be needed while he set up the worksites and organized the tools that would be required.
You had added popping into the local café for a large coffee for Frankie and a red rooibos latte with almond milk for yourself. The first couple of days you had bought him a brownie too but stopped after he’d only half-finished the first one and mumbled through the crumbs in his mouth that yours were better. It only took you three days before the owner had your order ready for you before you even walked in the door, five days before you noticed the sidelong glances the little old ladies were giving each other as you walked out.
Small towns, you thought to yourself, rolling your eyes, had the unique benefit and downfall of everyone knowing everyone else’s business. They’d quit with the hardly-concealed smirks if they knew how awkward working with Frankie was becoming.
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You had been sure, in the immediate aftermath of waking up in Frankie’s arms while his truck sat in your driveway, that he was never going to speak to you again. The two of you and hopped out and began explaining away whatever conclusions Jacquie and Mark had made. Then Frankie, without even looking in your general direction, told Jacquie to get you inside and have your wrist looked at. 
To his credit, he had taken care of everything regarding your truck for you. The tow truck came and hauled it to the yard, Frankie had commandeered the inspection report and, after calling them out on trying to swindle you into buying unnecessary parts, had ordered what was needed and paid. 
You had, naturally, argued against this but you both knew you weren’t in a position to afford it. Frankie shut down your arguments gracefully, and broke his apparent vow of silence, with a gruff “I’m just doing it so I can drive my damn truck without you changing the radio station.” The absolute charmer.
It was your damn house, though, so you decided you'd talk as much as you wanted and it would be up to him to interact. Either that or you had music blaring from the radio, never playing his favourite country station purely out of spite. 
Never quite sure if he was listening or not, you rambled on about anything and everything. You explained your vision for the house and the plans you had for a greenhouse in the yard. Memories from your childhood were described in great detail, as were embarrassing stories from your year in college. Baking tips, waxing poetic about your love for sunflowers, interesting animal facts, you'd even downloaded a Word of the Day App and made a game of fitting the words into your daily uninterrupted monologues.
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It took three days for Frankie to break.
You had been reminiscing about your trip to Disneyland as a child when he abruptly cut in, voice muffled due to the nails being held between his lips.
"You never talk about it."
You assumed he was referring to the little all-day nap you’d shared in his truck, as it had yet to be spoken of, but were taken aback by the slight accusatory tone.
"Talk about what?"
He took so long to reply, you started to think that he had interrupted purely to shut you up. The silence demanded an explanation though, so you kept your mouth shut and waited.
Clambering down from the attic, where he had been strengthening the trusses throughout the sagging section of roof, Frankie pinned you with his gaze and softly repeated himself.
"You never talk about it. The time in your life when you were married." He must have seen your hackles rise because he quickly set down the hammer and held his hands up in a placating wave.
"You still haven't answered my question about being in the army," was your quick response, finished with an ever-so-mature, "so there."
With a resigned sigh, Frankie twisted his hat around backward and scrubbed his hands across his face. "Come on" -waving you towards the patio doors- "these kinds of conversations require fresh air and a drink."
Reluctantly you followed him outside but rather than sinking down onto the porch swing you opted to lean against the post facing it. Opening two ciders, which you now had free access to, you handed one to Frankie and watched him over the top of the bottle.
Half of your drink was gone and your mind had wandered to greenhouse and flower garden placement before Frankie spoke again. His voice low and quiet catching you by surprise.
"Yeah," he broke the silence with another ragged sigh, "I, uh, I served. Started in the Air Force, worked my way up to Special Tactics Squadron. Made enough noise there to get recruited to Delta Force."
"Oh, fuck," your exclamation was soft with shock "you've seen some shit then." Blast your runaway mouth and its inability to wait for your brain to catch up before blurting out your inner thoughts. "I'm sorry!-"
"No, it's okay" Frankie interrupted, trying to reassure you and remove the horrified look that had come across your face. 
"No, no, that was totally uncalled for. Brad, my um, my husband, he was a Marine. He hated talking about it, said no one liked talking about it. I should have known."
"It's not that," Frankie reassured you again, "You were the first person to ever ask me about it, in all the time I've lived here. Just took me by surprise."
Leaning over in the swing, Frankie pulled out his wallet from his back pocket and handed you a photo from inside it. Five men beamed up at you. You could recognize them from a few of the photos that had rested on Frankie's mantle, they looked older in this one.
"Tell me about them?" you asked, knowing that most of the request was due to curiosity but a small part of you hoped that if you kept him talking you could avoid the subject of your marriage.
The sun was beginning to set and you'd long moved inside to eat dinner by the time Frankie was done sharing. It must have been cathartic, you mused, for him to bare this much about himself. He had never looked more relaxed in all the time you'd known him, which wasn't saying much and it could just as easily been due to the amount of alcohol thrumming through his system.
The room fell into a companionable silence, each of you digesting the information that had been revealed. You were in awe of the fact that, despite the life of violence he had witnessed, Frankie still maintained his humanity. Even after a messy divorce and lost custody battle, Frankie continued to choose the path of healing. He was clean, was fighting for shared custody of his daughter again, running his own business, and still had found time to endear himself into the town's hearts.
Frankie was, for all his sharp edges and gruff words, a sweetheart.
It put into stark comparison how Brad had reacted to the lemons life had served him. Born into an upper-middle-class home, the only son, doted on by his parents, Brad had been raised into a life where every door was open to him. Despite this, or maybe because of it, he had grown hateful of those weaker than him. He was controlling but had just the right amount of charm to pass it off as caring.
"I've met men like that," 
You nearly jumped out of your skin from surprise. Looking at Frankie with wide-eyed shock you wondered again what the hell was in the cider. This was the second time you'd poured your heart out to a virtual stranger, but this time you hadn't even realized you'd started speaking your thoughts aloud. 
Squaring your shoulders and holding Frankie's gaze you continued, almost challenging him to find someone worse than Brad had been.
"He made me quit college because he said he wanted to start a family. Then berated me and acted like it was all my fault every time the pregnancy test came back negative. You know what that asshole did?" Tears were threatening to fall but you held on to Frankie's gaze, "He had gotten a vasectomy months earlier. I didn't find out about it until after he died; going through paperwork that had been stored in his desk."
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Frankie was up on his feet now, pacing around the kitchen island, too distraught to keep still. How could anyone be so cruel? Let alone be so cruel to someone as sweet and pure as you. He hated seeing you cry but knowing you weren't receptive to people being in your personal space, wasn't sure how to comfort you. 
Acting on pure instinct he grabbed the kettle and started preparing you some tea, not allowing himself to ruminate how he knew which flavour you preferred. Setting your favourite pottery mug in front of you, along with the little honey pot, he also decided to grab the fluffy throw blanket off your couch. 
"I get it now," he thought to himself offhandedly, "why women have so many fuckin' blankets and pillows in every room."
Placing the throw around your shoulders he was preparing to say goodnight and let you have some peace but was stilled by your hand reaching up and covering his.
"Please. Stay."
Part SIX
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alecxaheart · 3 years
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Falls At 4419 | Bang Chan Oneshot
✎ Genre : Strangers to Lovers AU, Fluff
✎ Pairings : Bang Chan X Reader
✎ Word Count : 2.1k words
✎ Synopsis : Who could've thought that your ride to love life starts at a bus stop.
✎ Requested.
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You had the usual tiring daily routine for the rest of your life. Your weekday mornings start with your alarm clock greeting you "good morning" in the most annoying beeping way as possible. What a gentle reminder, too, to tell you that it's almost time for work.
" Work again? " you groaned at the thought, hands reaching out to the bedside table to turn off the alarm.  Once you did, you forced yourself out of the bed and start preparing for today.
You were completely exhausted due to the stack of work your boss gives you.
It's to the point that it made you sleep deprived, haggard or just messy in general. You don't even know if you ever managed to cover all of that, physically, with make-up. However, when it came to your words and actions, it's noticeable when one paid attention. It's a good thing that Ms. Han was blind to that, or else you'll be told that you're lacking and higher chances of you getting fired.
But aside from every negative thing about your occupation, so far your performances were praised by your co-workers. Salary has never been a problem, in fact, you've been paid higher than expected. Maybe it's from the plus being Ms. Han's pet-sitter — for the love of all things, it had to be a cat.
You're almost done preparing for work. With your feet taking a quick slip into your black heels, you're on your way out of the house. Clacking noises could be heard each time your heels meet the pavement.
As you were headed towards the bus stop, you felt something vibrating from your purse. Opening it, you found your phone ringing. The caller ID displays the name of your boss, Ms. Han. What could be the kind of good morning greeting I'll receive from her today?
You answered it and placed it to your right ear, immediately hearing your name. " Assistant (L/N) (Y/N)! " Ms. Han called out through the other line.
" Good morning to you too, Ms. Han. You have matters to discuss with me at this time? " You replied, stopping at your tracks as you've reached the bus stop. All you need to do now is wait for the bus and keep yourself together with whatever Ms. Han may throw at you.
" I'm assuming you've already done the project for today, " You hummed in response. There was sound of a slight slip from the other line, you assumed that Ms. Han was drinking tea. " Make sure to deliver that presentation well. After that, I want you to attend the board meeting this afternoon on my behalf. Send them my sincere apologies for I have other more important business matters. "
So much for being trustworthy..
" Noted, Ms. Han. " Your ride finally came. Once it opened it's doors, you hopped in and tapped your card at a machine.
" Also, fix this week's schedule. Cancel everything on Friday, " Ms. Han added. You ended up seating at the very end of the bus, beside the window. It just happened to be the only row of seats that's vacant.
" Got it, Ms. Han. Anything else? "
" Ah, right. After the board meeting, take care of Eliza, " Her cat – you should've seen that coming. " Don't worry about the ride to my house, my driver will be picking you up. " She continued, taking one more sip at her tea. The ride was never a problem, but her cat is. Nevertheless, you accepted it since you both needed the job and money.
It didn't took that long until the conversation finally ended. When she hung up, you deeply sighed and looked out of the window. Spring was almost over, the atmosphere started to get colder. The cherry blossom trees began to slowly wither, every petal that has fallen decorated the road and sidewalk. It was both exquisite yet melancholic. Could you ever compare yourself as a cherry blossom? To bloom all over again yet someday, you'll wither once again. Possibly.
As you were gazing outside, your eyes widened as you saw someone else's reflection who sat beside you. His airpods plugged in his ears as he bobbed his head to the beat. You never knew or felt that his presence is already there, not until right now.
He's the same guy you meet each day whenever you took this bus. To be honest, he's eye-catching ever since the first time you saw him. He had the usual black outfit. Curly brunette headed, tall nose, dazzling dark brown orbs, lips — Okay, let's stop fawning over him. In conclusion, he has very well defined facial features. It was obvious that he's one of God's masterpiece, many should've envied him with that.
Despite of him always being your seatmate when the seat next to yours is vacant, you both never conversed with one another. Even with him having an eye for you from the start, no one even dared to start one.
Although, maybe today's a bit different.
The bus abruptly stopped in its tracks as the stop light just switched to red. The driver groaned and scratched the back of his neck.
At the back of the bus, there's you who is silently staring at the window. Awfully close to the window. However, when the bus hit the brakes, your forehead bumped onto the glass. " Ouch! " You groaned in pain as you held your forehead, checking if it bled and to ease the pain. The curly brunette noticed this and paused the music he's playing on the phone. He shifted in his seat to face you, " Are you okay? ". Your eyes met his worrisome ones and it made your heart skip a beat. He's more dashing when he's this close to you. It also made you more timid towards him that you began to stutter, " I- I guess I'm okay.. ".
" Let me see, " He reached out to your hand that's covering your forehead. His hand accidentally touched the sore part in the process, causing you to wince in pain. He whispered an apology before carefully taking your hand off and scan your forehead. He sighed in relief, " Thankfully, it wasn't such a big impact but it did turn red. You can place ice or put an ointment on it as soon as you get off, ok? " You responded with small nod and smile, your heart melting at his kindness.
He carefully placed his hand on your head and light pushed it back, gesturing you to rest. You gladly complied and he smiled, showing his dimples. It was cute, you thought.
" Does it still hurt? " He asked.
" A bit but bearable, " You replied, closing your eyes.
" How about a small talk to distract you from the pain? "
" Sounds good to me. "
" My name's Chan, you? "
" The name's (Y/N). It's nice to finally know you, Chan. "
And that's how everything started to blossom, at the end of Spring.
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After that day, you started to anticipate what's going to happen on the next days that you never complained about the annoying beeping clock at dawn ever again. Especially and specifically, on the bus. Your mornings now start with you enthusiastically getting up and preparing for work. Chan happened to bring more interest into your life.
You don't know what kind of sorcery Chan does to always know how to remove your stress or just to make your days better in general. However, you don't mind it. Instead, you're really thankful for it.
You blossomed more in Fall, like a cosmos flower. You bloomed while the rest withered.
You excelled so much at work. The company was at its rough times, yet you handled everything outstandingly that you were praised by the whole company. Even Chan was happy for you, which mattered to you most.
" I knew you were exceptional ever since the beginning, " He murmured while hugging you securely, smiling. You, too, smiled brightly and blushed at that.
It's not only you who blossomed this fall. Your love, too, bloomed in Fall.
You never knew that the potential crush you had for Chan back when he was just a seatmate at the bus would grow. You fell head over heels for his giggles, smiles, kindness, goofiness, just for him. It keeps getting stronger as more time passes that you couldn't control it anymore. This was a first ever since you started working. You never really paid attention to your love life since work was always in the way. You're foreign to this feeling, you're clueless on how to handle it.
This love is the most amazing feeling, you'd be honest. Yet you fear that you'll be rejected or wouldn't be loved back. Then love would be the worst feeling.
Although, your faith and hope will never be taken away from you until the day hasn't came yet, until there's a possibility. You'll keep hoping on his small gestures you'd like to think are hints. You'll put your love for him in the hands of faith. And with that, you became patient with him. Waiting for the time that the true feelings will start to unveil.
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______________________________
찬의
Channie
Hey (Y/N)
Are you done with work?
Almost
Why do you ask?
I'll pick you up, ok?
I'm on my way there.
'That's first, yet weird.
But I don't mind.'
Alright, be careful
Seen 7:02PM
______________________________
A month has passed, you two grew closer than ever. Yet occassionally, there would be a hint of awkwardness between the two of you. One would act weirdly, stutter or get nervous around one another. You hoped that it wouldn't ruin your friendship. You valued this friendship more than anything else.
Heading towards the front doors of this company, you could see Chan's figure on the other side. Waiting for you to come out. Once you did, he turned to face you and greet you with a sweet smile. You smiled back. " Let's go? " He said as he offered you his hand. You nodded and timidly took it into yours. That's another first.
Both of you exchanged the usual conversation. Asking about each other's day, telling short stories, joking once in a while, then some comfortable silence here and there, it felt just right. It's already dark out, the city light and streetlights being the only source of light, while the moon is having the pitch black sky to itself. The streets aren't as busy as it was in the daylight. You could hear the rustling and crunching of autumn leaves as it was carried by the wind or getting stepped on.
The two of you eventually reached the bus stop, taking a seat as you wait for a bus. " Do you know the number that bus has? " Chan asked out of the blue, eyes boring on the street. You hummed in confusion, he chuckled. " The bus we always took, especially in the mornings. "
" Ohh.. To be honest, I'm completely unaware of that. " You answered, scratching the back of your neck. Once more, he chuckled then gazed at you while your attention was somewhere else. A bus was coming in your peripheral vision. Once it was in front of you, you scanned for it's number. At the very end, it's written..
" 4419, " You turned to Chan, only to find him staring at you with adoration. You two stayed like that for a few minutes. His eyes were so soft, looking ever so luminous and sparkling underneath the light. He took out a flower he plucked from earlier, placing it behind your ear. Not even tearing his eyes away from yours. " Beautiful, like a cosmos flower, " He whispered, but it was enough for you to hear it clearly. You've felt like you're continously falling, yet Chan still has his grip on you. The same grip when he first held your hand back when you've bumped your forehead on the bus. Loving, gentle yet firm. Telling that he's willing to fall with you. " I love you, (Y/N). "
With just those 4 words, you were filled with so much joy and shock. You froze on your seat. For a second you panicked on what's the right word to say, asking if an I love you too was enough or is it already too redundant.
Although you knew that Chan's anticipating an answer as the clock continues to tick, and waiting is dreadful. Chan will love and cherish anything you say to him. Just the thought of you being truly his will bring him genuine happiness, and that's enough. No need for further more explanations. Then you've came to the conclusion, that there's no other words that best describes your true feelings for him. Simple yet genuine, " I love you too, Chan. "
Now, a love fully blossomed at the end of Falls.
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End.
77 notes · View notes
lavaffair · 3 years
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A secret santa fic for my secret santa @ideasthatbuildcities​! Pregnant Kagome and inugang on Christmas! @inusecretsanta​ @iyfss​
I hope you like it! I had so much fun writing this. Happy Holidays :)
Read it on AO3! https://archiveofourown.org/works/28332135
or read below!
***
Thursday, December 24. Christmas Eve. 2:00 PM
“Hello.” sang the soft and comforting voice behind the phone.
“Mama!” Kagome greeted excitedly, “I finished it.” She placed her phone between her shoulder and ear, cranking her neck to the side just to look at her creation.
“Just in time too! Was it easier to finish after I helped?” Her mother asked curiously. Kagome smiled, beaming at the bundle of fabric in her hands happily.
“It definitely was mama. Who knew sewing a little fire rat robe would be so difficult?” She placed the red robe back onto the table and held her phone to her ear again. Noticing the slight soreness coming from her neck she rubbed it with her hand. While working on the robe she would absentmindedly tilt her neck to the right and keep it in that position for a long time.
“Hmm. Although it may not be made by the same materials as Inuyasha’s I believe the difficulty to make both versions is the same.” Her mother laughed lightly, “But I’m sure it came out great! You need to send me a picture before you bag it, dear.” Kagome could hear her mother fumbling in the kitchen with what she could only assume was tea. It was past time for breakfast, and still too early for lunch. She knew both her mother and grandfather would be drinking some tea around this time like they did every day.
“It’s almost identical! I am glad he keeps it in our closet. Easier for me to borrow it and to put it back where it was.” Kagome placed her mother on speaker and opened her camera app. Her mother was preoccupied with handing her grandfather his cup of tea, which allowed her to snap a few photos of the mini fire rat robe.
Happy with the way her photos looked, Kagome bunched them all in one message and sent them to her mother. A wispy chime came from her mother's phone echoed into her ear and she heard a loud gasp.
"Kagome! He's going to love it!" The crack in her mother’s voice could not be hidden which caused tears to prick into Kagome's eyes. "I can't believe you made me a grandmother, although I knew it would happen one day. Now for Inuyasha... he isn't going to believe he's going to be a father." Kagome wiped the stray tears falling from her eyes and was eternally grateful that Inuyasha was out with Miroku at the moment. He never likes it when she cries, and he always tries to get to the bottom of the situation so he can mend it. Whether he caused her to cry or it was an outside source, Inuyasha would do his best to comfort his wife.
"He won’t believe it but he's going to be the best father ever." Kagome sniffled as she continued to catch her tears. "He's been on his feet the last week checking up on me because I've been so emotional." It was particularly difficult to hide her excitement on learning she was going to be a mom. Inuyasha's nose is sensitive thanks to his demon blood, and he has been concerned for his wife. For the last month Kagome's been moodier as she has caught herself getting upset at things that never bothered her before. As the days went on, she started feeling sick in the mornings and had to take off running towards her bathroom with her husband right behind her.
At the time, Kagome was beginning to have her suspicions, but she was not ready to fully think about it yet. Her thoughts would linger on the possibility of her being pregnant, and in turn her anxiety would flare up. Inuyasha caught every mood swing come off her and he was starting to get frustrated on how useless he felt when he tried to help his wife. When Kagome had brought up her plans to go visit her mother at the shrine for the weekend, Inuyasha perked up immediately and supported her idea all the way. If he could not figure out how to help Kagome, maybe her mother will. Moms knew how to fix almost anything, and Kagome's mom was well known for her skills in parenting. While Kagome went back home for the weekend, Inuyasha stayed home and continued as usual with work and did not suspect anything more. He knew she was going to be in good hands.
"I still can't believe we found out on Saturday." Kagome said in disbelief. A little smile formed at her lips at the memory.
"I still can't believe you were in denial." Her mother teased in good spirits.
The young woman laughed, shaking her head in reply. "I believe it was more fear of the unknown than denial, mama." Her fingers lightly smoothed out the fabric in front of her, "I didn't know what to think." Now finished with her project, Kagome began to put the red thread and needles into the small tin bucket of sewing supplies.
"Meanwhile I knew immediately the minute you showed up." On the other side the phone call, her mother sat down at the table and sipped her tea. Smiling fondly at the memory of the moment they both found out the news. Unbeknownst to her, her daughter was doing the same thing as she cleaned up her work area.
When Kagome had arrived at the shrine that Friday she was weary of how she felt and how to tell her mother. Luckily for her, her mother was as observant as ever and picked up on her daughter immediately. The lack in appetite and the anxiety coming off of her made it easier for her mother to come to her conclusion. It was not until the next morning when she found her daughter heaving into the toilet that her suspicions turned real. Her mother sat her down in her old bedroom and looked at her knowingly.
"Kagome... are you pregnant?" She remembered her mother asking. Their hands were tightly held within each other’s and Kagome knew her mother could feel her shaking.
"I- I don't know? I think I am but... I'm nervous to find out." Kagome admitted. Her voice began to waver from the nerves, and her stomach was flipping into knots. Could she really be pregnant?
Why don't we take a test? Would you like to?" Her mother asked in a soft and reassuring tone. Although Kagome was nervous beyond belief, her mother was helping her feel comfort in the mess of anxiety she was feeling. Hesitantly, she agreed, and they quickly left to the pharmacy to buy the pregnancy tests. They decided to buy four tests, just to be sure there were no duds when she took the tests and they made their way back to the shrine.
Everyone was home when they arrived back, and that only made Kagome more nervous. Her mother squeezed her hand tightly before letting her daughter lock herself in the safety of the bathroom. It was a shaky and uneven experience but Kagome was able to get all four tests done. She opened the door to let her mother in as they patiently waited for the results to show up. Kagome hugged her mother to find comfort, and her mother hugged her and rubbed her back.
As they waited, the nervousness Kagome felt was starting to be replaced with excitement at the thought of the tests being positive. She has always wanted to be a mom and once she met Inuyasha the need only grew more. She knew the two of them would make great parents to their hypothetical children, but she had not expected it to happen around this time. They had been married for almost two years, and they are careful when they have sex but there are days when they both get very carried away. As unexpected as this was for Kagome, she is a little surprised this did not happen sooner.
One minute felt like eternity as two lines began appearing on all four of the tests and Kagome's breath hitched in her throat. She squeezed her mother harder in reaction to the scene in front of her, a huge smile decorating her lips. Both women began laughing from happiness and shock while tears fell freely down both of their faces. They made so much noise that Kagome's brother Sota, and their grandfather came running towards the bathroom in alarm.
"What has happened here!?" Her grandfather asked in alarm. Sota looking confused as well, he peeked into the bathroom and stared in amazement at the four white tests sitting on the bathroom sink.
"No way! Sota exclaimed, his eyes almost bulging from their sockets. Kagome no way! Her brother hopped excitedly.
"What is it Sota?" Asked his grandfather who still did not understand.
"Gramps, you're going to be a great gramps now!" Sota practically yelled in the older mans ear, his mother and sister too busy crying to give either of them a good explanation. Grandpa Higurashi watched as his daughter in law wiped his granddaughter’s cheeks free from tears as his own began to fall.
"Oh, Kagome! He wept with a big smile on his face. "You have made me the happiest grandparent on earth, to be blessed with a grandchild while I am still here with you all!" The older man hugged his crying granddaughter as tightly as he could and happily wept at her shoulder. He had always wanted to be a great grandparent but he had not expected it to happen yet. He knew with his oldest granddaughter there would be a possibility, but he was getting older and weaker as he clung onto his wish.
"Of course you would have a great grandchild, grandpa! You will not be leaving us yet." Kagome sniffled as she hugged her grandfather back, the only other remaining male member of her family. The only other man who resembled her late father so closely, along with her younger brother Sota.
"You excited to be an uncle?" Kagome beamed towards her brother who was now coming in to give her a hug.
He laughed loudly, a hint of nervousness still lingering within him, "My niece or nephew are going to have the best uncle they could ever ask for." He sniffled, "Be ready to raise soccer stars."
Kagome laughed at the fresh memory of her unexpected announcement and felt so lucky to have such a wonderful family by her side. As she placed the tin can back into her supply closet, she went to grab the green holiday bag that would hold the small fire rat robe. "I can't wait to tell him." She squealed with her mother still on the line. She heard her mother laugh and could practically see her beaming with a cup of tea in her hand.
"Tell us about it tomorrow at dinner. I need to know how he and everyone else finds out." Her mother reminded her. "I want to know it all!"
"I promise mama. Inuyasha and I will be there around five tomorrow. I can't wait for dinner either." Kagome folded the red bundle neatly and placed it at the bottom of the bag, just above the single pregnancy test wrapped in tissue paper. She covered the red robe with more tissue paper and hid the little bag underneath her side of their bed. "I'll see you tomorrow mama. Love you."
"I love you too, dear." The call ended, and Kagome was left alone in her bedroom again. Inuaysha would be home soon, and she needed to clear up the scent of her tears so he would not worry when he came home. Some time to air out the house with the windows open should do the trick.
December 25. Christmas Day. 6:00 AM
Kagome and Inuyasha had awoken to a light snowfall in the early morning of Christmas. It was a cold morning and Kagome did not want to get out of her warm bed, much to Inuyasha's complaints. Out of the two of them, Kagome was always the one to sleep in while Inuyasha was the early bird. There were mornings where she could easily convince her husband to sleep in longer with her and cuddle the morning away, while other mornings he would stay in bed with her after a long night of rendezvous. Either way, she loved when he pulled her closer to him to breathe in his scent and feel his natural warmth, something she was desperately missing on this winter day.
The half demon poked his sleeping wife's cheek gently, with just enough pressure to get her attention on him. "Wake up, Kagome!" He loudly whispered, "Everyone's gonna be here in two hours. You hafta get up!" He urged her by continuing to poke her soft and squishy cheek.
His sleeping wife groaned, "Get back in bed… they can wait for us..." She groggily replied. She could feel the pad of his finger poking at her face, the longer he did it the more alert she became. She growled in annoyance at her husbands successful attempts to wake her and she wished her growls could be as terrifying as her husbands were. She freed one hand from the warm confines of their fluffy blanket and slapped his hand away. This only led to further failures as Inuyasha's poking stayed in place since he was much stronger than his sleepy wife.
"Inu..sha... noooooo." His sleeping beauty complained, "Stop ittttt." Her attempts to sound mad were failing, as she could hear herself sound more like a muffled child than an angry woman. She slapped at his hand again but instead was pinned down by her very annoying husband, who had decided to lay his entire body on top of hers.
Kagome opened her eyes and glared at his amber ones who were filled with mischief. "Why." She sounded fully awake now!
Inuyasha laughed at her, "Since ya wanta stay in bed all day when we got people comin', I guess I'll get into bed too and humor ya." He snuggled into her, his arms incasing her head between them as he laid his head into the crook of her neck.
"I can't breathe you know." She laughed, "You wouldn't want to squish your wife would you?" She decided to poke his cheek in retaliation to his earlier actions. She felt him growl at her playfully, his body making hers vibrate along with the sound.
"'Course I don't. I'd rather she get her lazy ass up instead." He teased. He licked her ear in another attempt to try to get her up and he felt her body jolt as his tongue flicked her earlobe a second time. The dainty hand that was poking his cheek now pushing at his chest to get him off of her.
"Okay! Inuyasha, stop!" She giggled, "You know that tickles! No!" She shrieked, making his ear flatten onto his head as he started tickling her sides.
"Do ya promise!" He boomed, laughing at her expense. He knew his girl well, and if gentle pokes did not get her up then torturing her with tickling will. He could feel and see her squirm in protest as she tried to push him off of her, laughing and gasping for air. Her uncontrollable laughter was contagious as he too laughed along with her, grinning wickedly because he knew she was trying to give him an answer.
"Yes!" She gasped, "I swear!" Her laughter growing louder, "Please stop!"
Inuyasha's grin only widened, "That's not what ya tell me when I'm on top of you in other ways!" He was mesmerized the way her eyes scrunched up as she laughed, and at the way her lips looked while she laughed. Whether she was laughing by force or laughing in reaction or something, Inuyasha knew he was one lucky bastard.
She gasped at his reply, "This is different! You know I hate tickles!" She giggled cutely, "Inuyasha!" Tears fell from her eyes now and they made her pillow wet. God, she hated getting tickled!
"Awright!" She heard her husband yell, and then his tickling fingers stopped. Kagome opened her eyes and gasped for air, her husband looking as smug as ever. "Good morning sleepy head." He kissed her on the forehead, on her nose, and then left a lingering kiss to her lips. "Merry Christmas."
Annoyance quickly subsiding, Kagome kissed him back. "Merry Christmas. Now get off of me." She requested, even though it sounded more of a demand. Inuyasha quickly got off of her and pulled her up with him. Watching as his beautiful wife rubbed at her eyes and yawned like a kitten. She stared at him sleepily before getting up to stretch. She could feel his eyes on her, burning her and lighting her up on fire which only woke her up faster.
"Man.. if the gang wasn't comin' over so early I'd take you here an' now." He eyed her hungrily. Kagome blushed, loving the way he still could give her that reaction after being together for so long. She walked up to him and kissed him once more, soft and lingering and filled with love.
"Maybe after dinner you can get some desert." She winked up at him. His white, fluffy ears focused just on her and standing up on command. "Inu," she kissed his lips again, "Could you make me some hot chocolate?"
He pulled her closer in and kissed her again, never getting tired of her sweet taste. "Comin' right at cha." She gave him the smile that made him fall in love with her, the smile only made for him before turning around to head to the bathroom. Immediately walking to the kitchen to make her favorite drink, he added some extra mini marshmallows in the mug because they were her favorite. Sango, Miroku, and Shippo would be here within the next hour and a half and they had a long day ahead of them. He could hear Kagome humming from their bedroom, the water running while she took her shower and hoped she did not take as long as she normally does.
Inuyasha stirred the hot contents inside the mug, careful to not spill any marshmallows before setting her cup aside. He went to pour in some hot coffee into his own mug and stirred in some sugar. He heard the familiar squeak of the shower knobs turn and was left surprised at how quickly Kagome finished up, his silent wish being granted. While he waited for her to get dressed he sat down on the kitchen island and drank his coffee, his only entertainment being their twinkling Christmas tree and the steam coming off of Kagome's hot chocolate.
After a few minutes he heard little footsteps coming from his bedroom and the scent of vanilla and strawberries that followed it. From around the corner Kagome walked out already dressed and holding a little green bag. Inuyasha quickly picked up on her nervousness and got up to meet her halfway. "Kagome? You okay?"
Kagome looked into her husbands amber eyes, concern etched within them and her anxiety subsided a little. She can admit she was nervous about how he would react. She knew he'd be excited, and very happy about the news but she also knew that he never thought he would be a father. Inuyasha has been alive for over 650 years, and when he had first told her she was a little in shock but quickly put it aside as he was part demon and all. His older brother being a lot older than him, and still alive. Demons and humans had lived together peacefully for a very long time, and Kagome found herself falling in love with one.
Inuyasha had had a very hard and unfair life, especially in the earlier times of it. With him being half demon, he was victim to prejudice and thousands of attempts of people and demons trying to kill him. He survived it all and survived to see the attitudes towards demons change from humans. He still gets mistreated by individuals from both sides due to being born half human and half demon, but he has met many more who accept him for who he is. He has found a family within friends who accept him, a loving and beautiful wife he does not deserve, her amazing family, and he has also mended his relationship with his full demon brother.
"Hey, I wanted to give you your first gift in private." Kagome started, her voice giving away how nervous she was. "It's your biggest gift of the bunch." She smiled. Kagome handed him the little paper bag and watched as he worriedly and excitedly placed the bag on the island and began opening it. He kept looking at her to make sure she was okay, as he could still sense her anxiety.
"Is this why you've been so nervous this week?" He asked her. He carefully took the tissue paper off of the bag and heard her breath hitch and slow down, her reaction answering his question.
Inuyasha looked at her one more time before he dug into the bag and felt fabric at the bottom. Confused on as to why clothes would make his wife so damn nervous, he pulled the bundle out of the bag and was met with a small red shirt. "What?", he quietly asked himself. Careful with his claws, he unfolded the red shirt and was surprised to see that it was not a shirt at all. It was a smaller version of his fire rat robe. He eyed the item carefully, knowing that the only way this could be made was by Kagome herself.
"I-" He started, "Kagome..." Inuyasha's eyes widened as realization hit him like a truck. This small fire rat robe was small enough to fit on an infant, and why would Kagome make something so small if there was no infant? As his amber his met her brown ones, a smile formed onto his face. Before saying anything more he investigated the bag once more to see if he missed anything. There wrapped in red tissue paper was a plastic pregnancy test, with two blue lines bold and clear on the results screen. The half demon immediately pulled his anxious wife into his arms and held her tightly.
"No way! Babe, we're pregnant?!" Inuyasha excitedly yelled. He took her face into his hands and left kisses all over it, making sure he kissed away the tears that were falling from her eyes. Her hands cupped his cheeks and she looked into his wide, excited eyes.
"Yes Inu, we are pregnant." She laughed as more tears formed, "You're going to be a dad Inu."
"Yes!" He boomed loudly, his voice echoed in the kitchen as his picked up his crying wife and spun her around. "I'm gonna be a dad!" He kissed her, "You're gonna be a mom! My kids gonna have such a great mom!" He took her lips once again into his and kissed her with so much love and desire. Out of all the time he was alive, he never thought he would ever become a father to a child. When he met Kagome, he knew he had his shot because he finally found a woman who loved every part of him. He had found someone who would love him unconditionally, and therefore would love their child with even more.
Not letting go of her, he reached for the little red robe and stared at it. "When our kids born I'll haveta take it out and wear my old robe with theirs." He wiped another tear from Kagome's eyes, "Kagome. My wife, the mother of our child. God, I love you." He pulled her into his chest and felt her arms wrap around his neck in an embrace.
"This is the best gift you have ever given me, and you have given me so much. No one else has ever loved me the way you do. Has given me a chance to live happily, to make friends, to trust others more." He kissed her forehead, tears spilling out of his own eyes now. "I feel like I was born just for you, and all the bullshit I had to go through my life has led me to you and only you."
"I love you, Inuyasha." Kagome said muffled, her lips hidden within her husbands warm embrace. She lifted her head up tp stare back at him, the smile made just for him on her face. "I will love you and our baby forever, unconditionally, and with all the love I can give you both."
December 25. Christmas Day. 8:30 AM
After some quick freshening up and some makeup both Inuyasha and Kagome did not seem to look like they cried at all. Once dressed and prepared the couple quickly got started on preparing breakfast for themselves and their friends. Every year the group opens gifts in the mornings and share breakfast together, each year the location changes and this time it was hosted at the Taisho's.
As soon as the pair were finishing up with preparing breakfast, their friends had arrived all together with boxes wrapped in festive paper and bags full of goodies. Inuyasha helped Miroku place all of their gifts below the tree while Sango and Shippo helped Kagome bring the plates to the table. The house smelled amazing, and the morning chill outside had no match to the warm and cozy atmosphere inside of their home. After finishing up with the tea everything was ready to eat. The group of friends gathered at the table and enjoyed the delicious homemade meal. After Shippo and Inuyasha fought for seconds and Miroku brewed some more tea it was time to open presents.
Once everyone sat around the Christmas tree the volume in the room intensified with everyone speaking over one another. A lot of "Pick me to go first!" and "Where did you put my gifts?" were being thrown around the room back and forth. Kagome was growing impatient and irritated with how no one seemed to listen to her and clapped her hands loudly. "Alright, alright!" She noticed Inuyasha's ears flick at her loud clapping and she blushed, "Sorry Inu," she apologized.
Kagome stood up and tossed some pillows at everyone in the living room, "We will go one at a time and exchange gifts in order. We still start from the person closest to the Christmas tree. Which would be Shippo." She sent the fox demon a friendly smile before sitting back down next to her husband, who was playfully whining about going deaf from his wife's thunder like clapping. She lightly swatted his arm in reply, "I'll give you something to whine about."
She swore she heard him say "That a threat or a promise?" but chose to ignore it.
Shippo grinned cheekily and grabbed four little boxes from under the tree. "Open them all at the same time, wait for my signal" he practically jumped like a rabbit as he handed each person a box.
He sat back down on his cushion and opened his arms as his signal. He watched excitedly as his friends revealed the frames of pictures they had all taken together throughout the years, reveling in the gasps and praise they made. Shippo was the youngest looking of his friends at 20 years old, although he was very close in his demon age with Inuyasha. He had lost his family when he was only a kit and lived the majority of his life alone until he met Inuyasha. There were many moments where they would butt heads and argue over small things but as they grew the arguing faded and their relationship as brothers progressed. Due to his lifelong friendship with Inuyasha, he met Miroku, Sango, and Kagome and they have all become his family.
"Oh Shippo!" Kagome and Sango cooed, "This is so thoughtful of you!" Kagome finished.
Miroku agreed, "Shippo this very kind of you to make."
"Oi, Shippo..." Inuyasha asked grudgingly, "What's the meanin' of this eh?" The half demon pointed at another frame of Inuyasha and Shippo together where it was clear that Shippo had drawn him with clown hair, make up, and a nose.
"I had to make our picture together a little more accurate." The fox demon grinned at him. He quickly ducked down at the molded paper ball Inuyasha threw at his head.
"If it were accurate ya should have drawn yourself with diapers and a pacifier!"
"Boys, boys please. If you want to kill each other do it outside." Sango chimed in. The demon boys grumbled and said nothing more, "I guess it's my turn!" she sang.
Sango revealed three boxes and handed them to Inuyasha, Kagome, and Shippo which caused the three recipients looked at Miroku in confusion. "Sango, you're not going to give Miroku his?"
Miroku laughed, although it sounded more like a cough while Sango blushed deeply and looked away, "Sango uh... gave me my gift already." Miroku explained.
"Ohhhhhhh!" The curious couple yelled in unison, while Shippo could be seen shaking his head with a sly grin on his face.
"No wonder you've been so under control, Miroku!" The fox demon teased. Miroku cleared his throat and chose to stay silent while Sango's face rivaled that of a tomato.
"Oh just open your gifts already!" The blushing woman squeaked before taking her spot back next to her fiancé. The three teasing friends all laughed but it was quickly drowned out by the sound of ripping paper. Many ooo's and aaa's were heard echoed around the living room as the boxes were opened. Each box was filled with different items for each individual person, each carefully picked out by Sango. Kagome's box was very pink and glittery. The box was made up of cute and subtly scented bath supplies since Kagome loved to take baths and some of her favorite candy. For Inuyasha, his box was filled with instant ramen, Chapstick, and socks.
"Ya really got me socks huh?" he asked with a huff.
Sango nodded with a huge grin on her face, "Well until you stop walking barefoot everywhere and conform to slippers, I think socks are a good middle ground for you."
Inuyasha heard Kagome giggle which caused him to roll his eyes in return, "Thanks for the extra ramen."
Shippo gave no time for anyone to reply because of his loud, excited gasp. "It's a box full of food!"
Miroku laughed, "Babe you're such an enabler."
"Well," she pointed towards Inuyasha, "I did give him a shit ton of ramen, and Kagome more bath time amo... but they're addicted." She shrugged.
"It can't be helped Miroku!" Kagome followed, "We're lost causes. Just give us what we need to survive and keep moving."
"There's lollipops and honey butter potato chips" the fox beamed, "Sango thank you, thank you, thank you!" He hopped in his seat like an excited puppy.
The group laughed in unison and as the wrapping paper was tossed together in a pile, Miroku handed everyone their small gift bags. Miroku was very simple when it came to gift giving, he always had been. Miroku was a pretty simply guy; the only thing he really cares for is Sango, sex, and success. He likes to call it the "The Three S's".
Sango, Shippo, Inuyasha, and Kagome opened the little boxes where a bracelet with three purple beads lay inside. "They are protection bracelets," Miroku started. "We all know I come from a line of monks, and as unholy as I am in some cases I can still stake some claim. If you wear them, you will always have protection. Master Mushin and I made our prayers for a few days on each of them."
Overcome with emotion. Sango leaned towards her soon to be husband and gave him a chaste kiss. "Now I see why you wanted me to open this one here." She leaned her head on his shoulder, "Thank you my love."
"How the hell did two lechers make somethin' so holy and sacred? Mushin's got half of what you have when it comes to bein' holy!" Scoffed Inuyasha.
Miroku laughed, "You know as they say, two halves make a whole." Everyone groaned in unison, and the raven haired man received some eyerolls from almost everybody in the room.
"Right! Well, Inuyasha and I are last!" Kagome beamed happily. She shot up from her seat to go fetch their gifts when a clawed hand gently brought her back down. She stared at Inuyasha, confusion painted onto her face. She watched him stand in her place instead with a huge smile on his face. "Inuyasha?" She soft asked.
"Before we give you guys the gifts under the tree, I wanna show you what Kagome got me." His smile grew wider, "Its gonna blow your minds." He walked into their bedroom as fast as a bullet and left everyone but his wife in confusion and curiosity. The anxiety was coming back into her, but it was quickly being drowned out by her excitement of their announcement. She and Inuyasha both knew their friends would be supportive and as excited as they are.
As quickly as he came Inuyasha appeared by Kagome's side with the little green bag. "Kagome made me somethin' really cool," he began to dig into the bag. "She worked all week on it and I wanted to show ya before I put it on." Lifting out the little red robe, he dropped the bag near Kagome and used both hands to fully show off the small clothing. He watched proudly as everyone's eyes widened in pure shock. Besides him, Kagome stood up in a fit of uncontrollable giggles, "Surprise!" She shouted. "We're pregnant!" In her hand laid the positive white pregnancy test.
Sango got to them first, and successfully almost tackled her best friend down if it were not for Inuyasha's hand on her back. "You're pregnant!" She shouted, "You're going to be a mom! I'm going to be an aunt!" Together the girls began to jump up and down as they became overcome with emotion. Tears were spilling down both of their faces as they celebrated within their own little bubble.
Inuyasha stared at Sango with an arched brow, "What about me?" Suddenly he was pulled into the hug by both women with an expression that held instant regret. "Yeah I shouldnt'a asked."
"My friend!" Miroku spoke next, "You are one of the luckiest men alive. Marrying Kagome, and now expecting a child." He stood up and patted his long time friend on the back. "We are both very lucky men."
The half demon let out a pained grunt from being crushed by his wife and his best friends fiancé. "I don't feel too lucky at the moment, monk!" He was able to push himself free from their grasps as they continued their insane bear hug. Shippo was next to walk up to him with a grin and a twinkle in his eyes. He took the red fire rat robe from Inuyasha's grasp and held it up.
"You know if I had this back when we first met we would have looked like a dynamic duo." Shippo started, "But then I'd look too much like you." He handed the little robe to Miroku so he could see the hard work that Kagome put in it.
"Who's the one who ran away every time I fought a demon?" Inuyasha sent him a shit eating grin, "Cause it wasn't me."
Shippo was going to counter back, but the squealing behind the men stopped and two watery eyes women appeared before them. Sango grabbed the little red robe from Miroku and admired it fondly. The rest of the gift exchange was completely forgotten by the turn in events. The room was filled with love and excitement at the announcement of their friends incoming member of the family.
"Merry Christmas?" Kagome cheered with a stuffy nose.
"I'll be a little corny here but this is definitely the best gift of the night." Miroku stated matter of factly. "We will have a new member of our family soon."
Shippo laughed, "I can't wait for that! We'll be the best uncles ever!"
Kagome pulled Sango into a one-armed hug, "And they will have the best aunt ever."
The group continued giving their last set of gifts from the exchange. The final round from the married couple were just as amazing, but the best gift of the day was still voted as the pregnancy announcement. As their morning continued, and the gifts were all opened and set aside they decided to watch The Grinch as they do every year. After this Christmas, things would never be the same again. Next time the holidays come around, there will be a new family member to spoil with love and presents. Hopefully with some little white ears to match.
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mamichigo · 3 years
Text
Title: glass bottles
Pairing: Kokichi/Shuichi
Rating: G
Word count: 2,1k
Tags: Fantasy, Fairytale Elements, Phantom Thief Thief Kokichi (with a twist), First kiss
Summary: Shuichi has something of his stolen in the quiet of night, by a boy with mischief in his eyes.
Notes: Gift for participant #29 in the @kokichigiftexchange
*
Shuichi had seen them only briefly. One glimpse of a large smile with sharp teeth and purple eyes that seemed to glow. They were light on their feet, quiet as the night as they made it inside Shuichi's room on their tiptoes, like a particularly graceful ballerina. Shuichi didn't have a chance to speak up before the person raised a hand and blew glittering powder into his face. He had collapsed on the spot, but not before the mysterious person supported his swaying body by keeping a hand on his back and another to the back of his head.
The next morning, Shuichi woke up with glitter in his hair and on his fingers, along with a sense that something had gone wrong. Or, like something had gone missing.
He didn't realize the source of that impression until his friend, noticing Shuichi failed to react at all to upsetting events, joked that maybe his emotions had been snatched while he wasn't looking. Kaede had also been startled when he pinned her with an intense gaze and agreed with a terse nod.
"Is it really possible to steal someone's emotions?" Shuichi asked.
Kaede, never one to ignore even his silliest remarks when he was serious about it, put a hand to her chin. "It's not impossible around these parts. I might have heard something like that before, but it's more of a story to scare children than an existing fact."
"But we can't say for sure it doesn't exist?"
"That's right."
Satisfied, Shuichi relented and allowed the topic to change. As soon as he was done, Shuichi set out to research if there was any chance that he had been robbed of his emotions after all. After days of talking to more people than he was comfortable with, Shuichi found somewhat of a specialist (or so that was what he claimed to be). He had an oppressing, almost scary aura to him, but the man spoke of tails that made Shuichi go a little bit starry-eyed.
"Spirits are quite the trick loving bunch," Korekiyo explained over a cup of tea, "perhaps to compensate for what they didn't have the chance to do in life."
"So they're dead…?"
Though Shuichi couldn't see Korekiyo's mouth, he was sure he was smiling somewhat mockingly. "Yes, that would be the logical conclusion."
Shuichi hummed and looked down at his hands. Maybe he'd feel a little sad for this person, if they hadn't stolen his ability to do so.
"Is there any chance for me to find them?"
"Luckily for you, I have many reasons to believe you've encountered a spirit I'm already familiar with."
From the subsequent long monologue that he listened to, Shuichi extracted two important pieces of information: go north, find the closed orphanage that stands at the top of the hill; and, his little robber was apparently a boy who called himself a phantom thief. Or rather, the Phantom Thief, capitalized. Shuichi was doubtful that was his true name.
Nonetheless, Shuichi set out just as instructed. On the sunset of the next day, Shuichi had found himself facing the building that looked a bit like an abandoned church rather than an orphanage, if only because all the windows were stained glass colored vibrant red and pink, for the most part. Shuichi squinted at the building as he struggled to catch his breath.
Though Korekiyo had believed the opposite, Shuichi didn't feel safe, after all. Even a village kid as him knew the stories about people who encountered spirits and never came back afterwards, and knew even more of the ones who returned but not as themselves. Shuichi clutched the sleeves of his shirt.
While he pondered if he should go in or not, the doors slammed open on their own. A giggling voice could be heard, distant; a whistle of the wind. Shuichi tensed up, but shrugged to himself. That was as much of a friendly invitation as he would get, he decided.
The atmosphere inside the orphanage was strange, but perhaps only because he passed rows and more rows of open bedrooms, with beds as small as the ones he used to have in his room when he was nothing but a child. The place was covered in dust and debris, as well as wildlife, like it had been standing so long it was now splitting at the seams.
Though Shuichi was sure he had been wandering without aim, his feet took him to the only room that seemed lived in, to a sense. The dining hall had a table in the middle that went on for miles, and it was the first object Shuichi saw in here that was not dirty. It was also lined with candles in fancy candelabra, making the room just a bit too warm.
The room changed once he stepped properly into it. The bare, rotting walls were now covered in an intricate, elegant wallpaper; the table was surrounded by too tall chairs with plushy looking cushions; the table itself was now full of plates of all kinds of sweets that Shuichi had never seen before. At the center of it all, a carefully balanced tower of beautiful glass vials, adorned with flowers or stars or wings.
Finally, at the head of the table, swimming in his chair, sat a boy who watched him predatorily. Shuichi recognized his teeth first, bared in a childish smile. His face was framed by swirls of red paint, but the rest of his attire was perfectly pure white.
"Phantom Thief," Shuichi greeted.
"So you already know who I am," the Phantom Thief drawled his words, pleased with this outcome. "I'm so glad you went through the trouble of finding me!"
Guessing it was alright to do so, Shuichi sat on the opposite side of the table. The glass tower in the middle obstructed their vision, and they both inclined their heads at the same time to look at each other.
"Of course I did, you have something of mine," Shuichi said, straight to the point.
The Phantom Thief pouted. "We could've made a game out of it, you didn't need to say that right away." He heaved a forlorn sigh. "The rudeness of it all."
"Game?"
"Of course, I love games. Don't you?"
"Occasionally."
The Phantom Thief nodded twice, then dipped his finger into the nearest platter of food. He stuck his finger into his mouth, and promptly spat out whatever it was he just ate.
"Let's talk business, then," the Phantom announced magnanimously. "You're here for what I've stolen from you, is that right?"
"Yes."
"And what are you willing to do to have it back?"
Shuichi blinked. "I don't have to do anything since it's rightfully mine."
There was a stunned silence, followed by loud laughter. The Phantom Thief clutched his sides and his head dipped out of sight for several moments, but Shuichi could imagine the amused expression that was currently on his face.
"That's not how it works here, sorry." He didn't sound apologetic at all. "You have to try harder than that if you want your flask back."
Immediately, Shuichi's eyes were drawn to the glass standing between them. The Phantom Thief applauded him.
"That's right, that's where it is!"
The Phantom Thief stood up and turned to face his chair, then he put one foot up on it, followed by the other. He climbed onto the cushion, then the table with the nimble movements Shuichi just vaguely remembered from their first encounter.
"You see, this wasn't my first heist," the Phantom spoke while he kicked food, delicate china and expensive cutlery aside with the tip of his shoes. He walked to the middle of the table until he could reach for the vials shining in the candlelight. "Yours wasn't all that difficult to catch, either. But it's very special to me, so I can't give it back so easily."
The vial at the very top, placed in the spot of honor, was removed from the overall tower by the Phantom's hands, then held to his chest as if cradling a child.
"So, what is your proposition?"
Shuichi frowned as he watched the navy blue liquid inside slosh. He wondered what would happen if it fell, then broke. Shuichi clutched his hands to his knees.
"What could you possibly see in my sadness?" Shuichi inquired, and if he sounded miffed, well. He was. "Wouldn't it be more rewarding to steal someone's happiness?"
The Phantom contorted his face into a grimace. It made the paint on his cheek distort disturbingly.
"For the record, we don't steal anyone's happiness. That's against the rules." He tilted his head. "Right?"
The question wasn't directed at him. He saw nine heads, nine people all dressed similar to the Phantom Thief, nod in agreement then disappear before Shuichi could process that he wasn't hallucinating. He shuddered as he realized he was being watched by whoever those people were.
"I suppose that's fair," Shuichi conceded. He added, mildly, "But that doesn't explain why you did it, and why you won't return it to me."
The Phantom Thief rolled the flask in his hands and spun a circle himself as he went over the question.
"You wouldn't remember anyway," the Phantom decided.
"Enlighten me."
The Phantom was slightly taken aback by the response, a small stumble to his steps a proof of it.
"...Huh." The Phantom thought and thought, and finally said, "You felt sadness for me."
Shuichi furrowed his head. He was sure he wouldn't have forgotten about an encounter like that.
"When?"
"In a dream."
The Phantom decided to continue his track, this time towards Shuichi. There was more clatter as everything in his path was damaged beyond use. He came to stand above Shuichi, chin tilted up as he looked down on Shuichi.
"Or maybe I'm lying,?" The Phantom Thief challenged. "You'll have to find out yourself, all you have to do is remember. Now, I'll be taking this--"
Shuichi grabbed his ankle before the Phantom could turn on his heels. The Phantom tested the strength of his grip, but didn't try to break free.
"What do you want?" Shuichi asked.
"Oh?"
"We could strike a bargain."
The Phantom smiled in clear self-satisfaction, and from this angle it looked especially cat-like.
"Aren't you the courageous type," the Phantom complimented.
"It can't be anything too bad," Shuichi defied, but the words weren't convincing even to himself.
"You're so lucky I have just the thing in mind today, and it should cause you little to no pain, as long as you don't struggle too much." The Phantom Thief bent down, and suddenly he was crouching and leaning close to Shuichi. "How about it?"
"I'd like to hear what it is, first."
The Phantom Thief giggled. "Alright." He tilted the vial this and that way, showing it up to Shuichi. He inched himself a tad bit closer. "I'll give you your precious emotions, the one I've been treasuring… I'll give it to you, as long as you kiss me in return."
Shuichi couldn't help but gape. He was back to clutching his knees, for an entirely different reason. 
"...Is that all?" Shuichi choked.
"You're blushing," The Phantom pointed out without mercy. He watched Shuichi as his face went through the full spectrum of the color red. "So, what will it be? Take it or leave it, I won't take any other bargains, and I won't wait forever. Tick tock, Shuichi."
Shuichi swallowed dryly, and, with his head blessedly blank, pushed himself up by the chair's armrest, and his head met the Phantom's halfway. Shuichi expected him to be cold, to be a corpse covered by a porcelain face, but the Phantom was warm and pliant above him. The Phantom's hands trembled and Shuichi had to grab for the vial before it fell. The sudden touch of skin on skin broke Shuichi's thread of reason, and his other hand found the Phantom's hair and stroked the back of his head.
The Phantom's lips tasted of nothing. Shuichi exhaled softly and found some echo of a distant memory, not his own. Shuichi pulled back, vial in hand.
"Was that enough?" Shuichi asked, voice hoarse.
The Phantom was unresponsive for a beat. Then, he leaped forward, kissed the corner of Shuichi's mouth and demanded, "Call me Kokichi."
"I can do that."
Without a moment's delay, Shuichi downed the contents of the glass vials. It went down like a block of ice. Shuichi watched Kokichi from the corner of his eyes, and the boy did the same.
"This won't be the last you'll see of me, you know," Kokichi commented.
"I'm not afraid."
Kokichi smiled, sharp teeth in his mouth and glitter at the corner of his eyes, with a mess of a hair that framed his innocent looking face.
"Good, I won't stop until I have your heart."
Shuichi chose not to reply. As he left Kokichi standing alone atop the table, too small among the too big furniture, Shuichi could finally feel the stab of sadness that came from the sight. 
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museum-spaces · 3 years
Note
I was wondering where you got an MA in Museum Studies? And if you'd recommend an MA over one of the college museum studies programs (I live in Canada if that differs from where you studied). I'm working on my BA in archaeology and have been considering museum studies as I find the field interesting but am a bit unsure where to start
Woohooy! Finally got back into my inbox! Tumblr wouldn’t let me in for about a week so sorry about the delay Nonny.
Just a quick reminder that I am currently on an extended mental health break but I do my best to check this blog at least somewhat regularly.
I got my MA at the University of Leicester School of Museum Studies in Leicester UK (Pronounced Lester). I’ve never been to a Canadian college so I cannot compare the two (for any non-Canadians reading: colleges and universities are not interchangeable up here in the Great White North. Though the distinction is fuzzier now, colleges are sort of the equivalent to a trade school. It used to be you went to University to be a Doctor or College to be A Nurse. Now colleges are leaders in tech development, library and museum sciences, archival studies, as well as trades... where most nursing students attend a combined college-university course. You also don’t get degrees the same way at colleges - you get certificates etc but to get a “BA” or “MSc” you have to be in an accredited university.)
I suggest you start by volunteering at your local museum (when it is safe)... (assume everything in this answer is followed by “when it is safe”).
I absolutely love museum work and want to do it for the rest of my life when I am back and fighting fit but the truth of the matter is, it is an area of academia that is difficult to ‘break into’ without prior experience. So volunteer! Your local small town museum or art gallery will always need volunteers and if you point out that you are thinking of a career, then the good ones will help you by mentoring you and/or letting you explore roles. This will help you decided if museums are the career you want to go into or if maybe some other aspect of academia will work better.
I will never not recommend higher education because I am a nerd and a perpetual student and Leicester is where I want to do my PhD as well... so that is my endorsement of it. This next bit will be a bit about how my degree was set up, feel free to skip if you want!
My degree took almost exactly 12 months straight to complete. I arrived in the UK at the end of September in 2017 where I attended lectures with 67 of my closest friends in a tiny, hot, first floor (second floor for us Canadians) classroom until mid December. After that I attended workshops with about 34 of my closest friends alternating between that classroom and a near by church as well as smaller seminars with 10-15 of my cohort until February. Then we spent March and April doing our “specialisms” my specialism was 7 of us including our academic leader.
After the conclusion of our specialism we worked on our “mini dissertation” it was technically too short to be a proper dissertation by UK standard but by far the longest, most involved bit of research I’ve ever written. there were no lectures or projects other than that at the time
Dissertations were due in early July and directly after that our placement started. Placement ended after a certain number of work hours (150 I think) but roughly 2 months of full time work. The last day of placement was the last day of the degree. (early to mid Sept. Mine was done on the 6th or something  but I stated at my placement for another week to volunteer at a conference)
Placement at leicester is basically an internship. Its called LUMIN (Leicester University Museum Internship or something like that) and it is a relationship cultivated between the school and the museum. You still apply to it like a job but you can’t just choose to intern at the ROM or RBCM or something, you need to set up a relationship between those museums and the school (office lady is very nice and willing to help with this if you want to do it).
At the end of all that you can graduate with either an MA (about 99%) of my cohort did that or an MSc (only two people did that but both worked in science museums, one was a geologist and I think the other was specializing to paleontology but not 100% sure of that). The class work is exactly the same for both, but the MScs tend to go for the science museum placements.
I hope that helps! Feel free to ask more questions! I love answering them.
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tartagilicious · 5 years
Note
Apparently I'm weak for yandere!Lawrence,,, (well that's kinda just Lawrence in general but you know what I mean fjdndn) can I request an mc/Lawrence drabble where mc catches on, calls him out on his shit, but isn't scared by it if that makes sense?? Like they know what he's up to and why, and they're not scared by it but they're Done with it. Whether it's pre-relationship or established works?? And the behavior that tips mc off is up to you gjsjka I hope I'm not asking too much thank you,,,,
of course you’re not asking too much! i’d actually prefer that if you were to request something, you’d do it with a bit of detail like this. that way, it’s easier for me to write, and for you to get what you want :)
angels (lawrence x reader)
The first time you tried looking at Lawrence as more than he projected, you noticed some things you knew you wouldn’t have otherwise almost right away. He was a kind, trusting, and reliable leader, and even more of a righteous lover: someone who lead you and your group with ease throughout the disaster you were subject to love through. But beyond that, there was something about him you couldn’t quite put your finger on.
Then, with the drop of a pin, he became a different person.
It was almost as if you had been blinded by all of your boyfriend’s good traits that you hadn’t seen the humane ones hidden behind them. He got annoyed, he could be irritated, burnt-out — it was weird to think, but the thought strangely relieved you.
Because albeit, it was just another reminder that no one was completely perfect.
But then things began to go south, and fast.
Behind the surface emotions in his eyes laid strange mixtures of knowledge and irritation that threw your suspicion to the sun. He would stare at certain people for what seemed like no reason, make notes even when he didn’t need to, and said strange things that alone should have explained enough.
You managed to corner him one night after the daily meeting, walking back to over to where he sat as he organised the papers concerning food storage and maps. He was extremely critical with technical things, and while you took pleasure in knowing someone was watching over you so fervently, it only gave you goosebumps knowing that he had access to anything he wanted. Lawrence would never be suspected of anything but the best, and that was what put you off.
You even felt bad just suspecting him for something, even if you only had obscure ideas so far. You should’ve known him the best — but you couldn’t ignore the signs, no matter how much you tried.
“Lawrence?” You asked this as casually as you could muster, sitting down next to him as he slid a small stack of papers into a file. “Can I talk to you for a second?”
You got his attention with that, his eyes flickering over to meet yours as his lips melted into a gentle smile. “Of course. Is something wrong, love?”
You couldn’t bite back a smile in return, the flutter in your chest easily reminding you why you were with the man in the first place. Your worries eased minimally yet naturally with the atmosphere, and you couldn’t help but let a sigh escape as you propped your chin on your palm.
“I don’t know, but I wanted to talk to you, just to be sure.” You said, smiling when he put his paper down and gave you his attention.
“You’ve been acting..” You trailed off and pulled your lips together as you searched for the right words. “Strange, kind of. Lately, you just act differently, and I wanted to ask you about it, because my conclusions make no sense.”
His gaze was thoughtful on yours, as if he was fascinated you’d even noticed.
“What do you think so far?” He asked softly, something in his eyes changing before you could even find the words to respond. “You must have an opinion about it if you noticed.”
You racked your brain for any reason that it would matter, but still answered him even when you couldn’t conclude anything rational. 
“What do I think about it?” You repeated, your lips pursing in thought. “Well, since I don’t know what’s going on for sure, I can’t say. It’s got something to do with everyone else besides me and maybe a few others - but my ideas are pretty dumb beyond there.”
“Tell me anyway,” He encouraged, quirking a brow as he smiled. “There’s no such thing as a dumb idea.”
Eugene and Zion are living proof of the opposite, but okay.
“Are you sure..?” You trailed off, grimacing slightly as Lawrence once again nodded, pushing you along. 
“Honestly, Lawrence, I have a feeing you’re up to something bad concerning our friends. As weird as it sounds, I can’t get past what my gut’s telling me. I’m sorry-”
He shook his head almost immediately, interrupting. “Don’t apologise. You’re a smart girl, ___.”
Those words sent an all-to familiar feeling crawling down your spine. But it wasn’t fear — you could never be afraid of him — it was only shock. Shock that your outlandish suspicions had been right, shock that he would even do such a thing — but most of all, shock that you weren’t afraid. 
“Lawrence, you can’t do anything to them! That’s not right.”
“How is it not?” He asked it so casually you had a hard time comprehending it at first. “You’re the only one I need around, and as far as I’m concerned, they don’t even begin to amount to you.”
Your heart froze. 
“To me? Lawrence, to me?” You repeated, your voice quiet. “Why wouldn’t they amount to me? They’re human beings, trying their best to survive just like you and I. And they’re our friends. You won’t be doing anything to them, not if it’s up to me.”
“___…”
Lawrence trailed off, his brows furrowing delicately. 
“We can still be together for as long as this universe lets us, but by god, Lawrence, getting rid of everyone else in one way or another is the farthest from the right way to do things.”
“Why are you saying these things? Don’t you care about me, too?” He asked, his words gentle but his face frighteningly flat. 
“I love you, Lawrence.” You whispered. “but the Lawrence I love doesn’t harm other people. He’s sweet, kind, always knows how to cheer me up, makes dumb jokes and oversees everything with perfection — he doesn’t kill, even if it is out if some morbid display of love.”
He took in your words with what seemed like complete seriousness, but his long contemplation had you biting your lip nonetheless. 
“Would that make you happy?”
You smiled, a sigh of relief escaping you as your hand reached to grip his. “Yes. It would make me really happy.”
Lawrence smiled a strangely loving smile, as if the conversation you’d just had was on nothing more than the weather.
“Well, if that’s what you want, then I have no right to refuse.”
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read more of my works~ ♡
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Best of DC: Week of March 27th, 2019
Best of this Week: Detective Comics #1000 - Various Writers and Artists
Possibly more controversial than I'm thinking it'll be, I'm glad Scott Snyder and Greg Capullo did the job of reintroducing Slam Bradley into the DC Universe. Slam Bradley, of course the way I choose to remember him, was one of DC's first characters and the precursor design to modern day Superman. He was a 1930s dick (detective in this case) who made his name in infamy with racist depictions of Chinese people being swung by their braids with toothy grins. He's likely the reason DC won't reprint some of the early Detective Comics works in a compendium.
This is without a doubt, a great celebration for one of the greatest comic book characters of all time, if not THE greatest. The difficulty in reviewing something like this, much like Action Comics #1000 (if I reviewed that one, I don't remember) is that so many stories have their ups and downs, hits or misses and there's so much ground. But some of these were so good that this book is getting an entry all on it's own this week.
He's been made better in recent years with a badass run as a side character in Ed Brubaker and Darwyn Cooke's Catwoman (2001) as a cool former police officer with a son by the name of Slam Jr. on the force. He was probably some of the best parts of his short time there and was very compelling in interactions with Selina.
Kevin Smith and Jim Lee have arguably done some of the best and WORST Batman projects ever, but through the good and the bad, both have immense talent and their tale “Manufacture for Use” added a beautiful layer to the significance of the metal plate that his emblem is made out of.
The book is simple enough, a montage of Batman fighting his greatest villains shows in the background while his alter ego, Matches Malone, has a conversation with a merchant peddling in the various pieces of gear left by villains. He has Harley hammers, crazy quilts and even freeze guns, but there's only one weapon Malone is interested in; The Gun belonging to Joe Chill. The weapon that killed The Wayne Family.
He and others had been leaving Batman clues since his first days as a hero to have him join a guild of detectives, solving unsolvable or very difficult cases and knowing that Slam is one of the detectives along with Hawkman, Hawkgirl, Martian Manhunter, The Question, Detective Chimp, Elongated Man and his wife, Sue Dibny is relieving and fantastic.
I'm glad DC hasn't shied away from him given his past history. Even his inclusion in Superman of China based on his former character, warts and all, seemed like DC was kinda ashamed of it, but here he is, as awesome as he was later in life!
Upon seeing it, Alfred questions why Bruce would keep it as a trophy, nothing the ridiculousness of The Penny and the Dinosaur, he sees the gun as strange or even perverse. Batman, however, wishes to never see it cause anyone pain again, melting and forming it into an oval adorned with the symbol of a Bat.
Batman has dedicated his life to stopping crime in Gotham at all costs, but not everyone see his methods as being right or just. Doctor Leslie Thompkins has been looking over Bruce since his parent’s murder and oped that he would take his pain and do something productive with it, actually fix Gotham, but instead she sees how vengeance has consumed him, turning him into something of a violent monster himself and she’s not wrong. They meet each other on the anniversary of his parent’s murder in Crime Alley and are beset upon by a group of teenagers whom Batman viciously slaps the hell out of. Dr. Thompkins stops him out of fear and Batman looks like the real villain here.
If that isn't chilling...
Brian Michael Bendis is a GREAT Batman writer. Checking out his 15 pages in the Batman Walmart 100 Page Giants, much like Daredevil, Batman is a character that is PERFECT for him. “I Know” drawn by frequent Bendis collaborator, Alex Maleev, is amazing. Penguin started becoming disillusioned with the meetings put together by villains like The Joker on how to finally get rid of The Batman, Penguin begins to muse about who had the money to fund Batman. I believe he proposed the idea to the others, but they all shot him down, citing times Batman showed up when Bruce was a hostage or how he “blubbered like a baby.”
Penguin didn’t let it go, however, and prepared Suicide Bomb Penguins to attack Wayne Manor while Bruce was hosting a ton of high profile Gothamites. It would have been the end of Bruce Wayne.
Warren Ellis writes some very character driven stories, but when he has to get technical, he is a master as good as any. In “The Batman’s Design” he goes over Batman’s methodology when taking on criminals, treating things like a chess game that he’s already won. He leads the criminals to a trap and plays them like a fiddle, setting off an explosion that knock out or send some flying, determining a sniper’s location and just being so terrifying that the leader just hands him a bomb switch before his ass gets destroyed.
Becky Cloonan does a great job of alternating between cool and warm tones for when Batman is in the shadows vs contending with explosions he’s setting off. Batman looks slim, but imposing regardless. This is definitely some of her best art so far!
Now… if you ask any of my friends from when I was in The Navy, they’ll tell you about how I waited in line for Batman: The Arkham Knight. I was excited. I was elated. The conclusion to an amazing trilogy of games that shaped a newfound love for the character for me! And it bloody sucked. I HATE Arkham Knight with a passion. If it’s not The Batmobile, it’s the Joker, if not the Joker, it’s the Knight himself, if not him, then Scarecrow as the shitty final villain.
I really loved the noir tone that was set by Elizabeth Breitweiser’s colors over Steve Epting’s art. Things are very dark and cool. Batman is shrouded in shadow and Doctor Thompkins acts as a small light by comparison. There is great contrast when action happens with warm tones as Batman slaps the teens and Batman standing in the shadows as Leslie and the kids are under the one light is powerful.
Suffice to say, I was not pleased when it was said that The Arkham Knight would finally be appearing in comics different than his video game counterpart, but… I dunno, I kinda like him here.
His characterization seems to be that of someone who has lived in Gotham and has seen Batman’s methods of treating the poor citizens, the weak and the sick. He sees Batman as a cancer, a darkness that needs to be exterminated for Gotham to truly thrive. The best thing, there’s precedent for this kind of character.
One of the first few arcs for Detective Comics involved a cool set of villains known as The Victim Syndicate, people who have been hurt or grievously injured in Batman’s relentless pursuit of crime. These guys put Batman’s team through the ringer, almost turning Stephanie Brown against him completely as Tim Drake had been presumed dead at the time. Another casualty of war. If I remember right, The First Victim noted that there was someone or something coming for Batman soon and if that’s the Arkham KNight, then I am excited.
The Victim Syndicate was one of James Tynion IV’s best ideas during his run and I really hope whoever the creative team is for Detective Comics thus forth lives up to the quality. Peter J. Tomasi and Doug Mahnke are both amazing, so I have high hopes if its them.
But Penguin had an epiphany. Ending Bruce Wayne would not end Batman. Batman would become focused. Driven. Possibly to the point of killing. Bruce Wayne is the only thing keeping these villains alive, so Penguin relents and never reveals what he believes he knows, until years later when Bruce is old and mute… but who says that Bruce has lost a step? He zaps Penguin who is taken away as Bruce tells him that he knew, pretty much calling him a “coward ass bitch” as he’s taken away.
Overall, while there were few misses, this collection of stories had great ideas, great characterization, heart and was just fantastic. Looking forward to another 80 years!
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This one was just cute. The Batfamily interacts with each other and take a FANTASTIC family photo drawn by Tony S. Daniel. Starring, Batman, Alfred, Nightwing, Batgirl, “Robin” Damian Wayne, Red Hood, Batwoman, Catwoman, “(Red) Robin” Tim Drake, Spoiler, The Signal, Cassandra Cain Ace the Bathound and Huntress. It’s a well put together double splash page and everyone, even Bruce seems happy.
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Pt. 9
Han Jisoo was true to her word and within a week she called HEET and Woojin in for a meeting. The purpose of the meeting was to tell them that Guerin would be reinstated as their manager, and that Woojin would be staying on as an assistant. Woojin had already been briefed, but he was better at keeping a straight face than Guerin so she had to wait outside the room or the boys would know before Jisoo got to announce it.
Once Guerin heard a ruckus inside the room she knew it was okay to open the door and peek her head in, beaming at the scene that greeted her. Jisoo was laughing at the surprised reactions of her boy group, taken with their joy. Minhwan had jumped up and was hugging Gabriel and Woojin, the latter being a less willing participate in the spritely jumping around of the other two but still smiling. Seungbin was standing and asking if it was real and not a prank, Byoungjin had his hand buried in his face, likely starting to cry while Tobio crooned to him and comforted him. In a split second that changed as soon as they saw her coming through the door and she was rushed by her boys all speaking and shouting indecipherably at once.
She bounced around with them and couldn't help shedding a few happy tears herself, so relieved that this part of her life could return to normal finally and moved by everyone's reaction.
Once everyone had calmed down and reseated themselves, Seungbin had tried to sit on Guerins lap but she redirected him to his chair reminding him that it was a professional meeting. He settled for pulling his chair close to her and holding her arm while resting his head on her shoulder. No one had the heart to tell him to stop.
After the meeting Minhwan suggested they all get dinner to celebrate once their lessons and practice were over. Jisoo politely declined attending but handed over the company card to Guerin in support. Guerin resisted hugging her friend and instead bowed deeply with all the boys following suit.
"Noona, are you going to invite Wow-hyung to dinner with us too?" Byoungjin asked as Guerin escorted them back to their practice room.
"No!" Seungbin said quickly before Guerin had a chance to respond. She gave him a curious look before speaking into the silence that his abrupt interruption had caused.
"I was going to say that I think this is a team celebration so we should keep it to us."
"Seungbin, don't be rude. You need to apologize." Minhwan chastised the younger boy in true leader fashion.
Seungbin's eyes were on the floor, "I'm sorry Noona..."
She didn't respond right away but did give him a head pat and a smile as he looked up at her from under her hand. Once they were in the practice room Guerin cleared her throat, getting everyone's attention.
"I think we should talk really quickly before you all start." She looked at each of them, "Wow is my boyfriend. I like him a lot. All of A.C.E are my friends. But HEET are my boys. I love you all so very much and I'm always rooting for you first. I might have to balance my personal life a bit differently, but know that my love for you hasn't changed." Tobio remained largely expressionless per usual, Byoungjin looked curious, Minhwan was nodding, Gabriel had a slightly disbelieving look, Woojin looked uncomfortable as though he had been caught eavesdropping and Seungbin looked conflicted.
"I'm sorry Noona... it's just that... we just got you back and he's been with you this whole time..." Seungbin rubbed the toe of his shoe on the floor as he looked down.
"I understand. And you'll have enough of me around soon enough since we're getting back to normal. It was hard for me to be apart from you, and Kim Seyoon was a part of that support to help me get through it. All of you make me so happy, his is just a different kind of happy." She caught Gabriel hiding a laugh at her last comment.
"Oh shut up you know what I mean." She scolded him in English, unconvincingly because she had to fight to hide a laugh too.
"What I really want to say," she continued, "is to please not hold any grudges with him or any of A.C.E. Just like you don't with Charlie. And if you feel sad, worried or insecure you can talk to me. Don't bottle it up okay? And don't judge Wow unfairly." She finished.
A smattering of nods and words of affirmation from HEET were enough for her for now.
"Okay, let me see what you've been working on!" She clapped her hands and walked over to the music player with Woojin while HEET scurried to get warmed up.
"You still haven't had sex?" Charlie hissed.
Guerin shushed her, looking around quickly, "Just because we're speaking English doesn't mean we should assume people won't understand, or record and translate."
"I was quiet, but more importantly are you dying?" Charlie looked at Guerin with concern and held a hand to her forehead. Guerin groaned and rested her head on the table.
"Yeah I think I am." Her respond was muffled and tragic.
The two girls were in a small bakery sharing a piece of cake. It had been a couple days since their respective dates, Seyoon and Jun were busy as their fan project had been released and they had some schedules pertaining to that.
"You know how much effort I've put into making that situation happen for me and you have your own place and it is WASTED on you." Charlie feigned anger at the top of her friends head.
"I know." Guerin turned her head to the side to stare absently out the window, watching a young woman sitting on a bench outside on her phone. Charlie changed tactics and patted Guerin on the head encouragingly.
"We can see them again soon. You can try again!"
Guerin sighed and forced herself to sit up, "I'm not really worried. We'll get there eventually. But like... I want to."
"I believe in you." Charlie offered, taking a bite of cake.
Seyoon and Jun had their final schedule for their fan project. They sat in their respective seats getting their makeup done after their hair. The usual staff were tending to their cosmetics so the chatter was friendly per usual. Eunkyung was adding some finishing touches to Seyoon's look before changing the subject.
"These schedules are all because of your girlfriends right?"
He hesitated as he decided how to respond, feeling about odd, "It's not because of them." She didn't say anything as though waiting for him to finish a thought but he didn't say anything else.
"But... because you are openly dating now?"
Seyoon glanced at Jun but he was engrossed in conversation with his own makeup artist and didn't seem to hear the topic change, "We just want to assure our fans our love for them hasn't changed." He finally answered.
Eunkyung nodded absentmindedly, adding some gentle brush strokes to the foundation on his face. "I have to admit. I was surprised when I saw who you were dating."
Seyoon glanced up at her but she was seemingly focused on his makeup. He felt a response wasn't necessary so he didn't say anything.
"I thought you'd definitely date another idol once your ban was up." She smiled, stopping the touch ups to look at his face as she appreciated her handiwork. He nodded again, still not sure how to respond.
"When I was little my parents divorced." She started, "My parents never seemed to be suited for each other. I asked my dad how he and my mom had decided to start a family despite being so I'll suited for each other." Seyoon watched her pensively as she focused on more makeup details, not meeting his eyes.
"He said he felt that deciding to get married was like being a taxi going on duty. Once he turned on his light, whoever hopped into the cab was his responsibility. It was just unfortunate that it turned out to be a bad tipper." Eunkyung finished her story and sat back again, then met his eyes and the slight young woman smiled prettily. "You're all set for stage."
He thanked her and stood to move to the couch to wait for Jun for them to start their surprise vlive before the schedule.
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Charlie had arrived at Guerin's place ahead of time to set up. She had asked him over with a movie night, only letting him know that it would be more private than at his dorm. Other than that she hadn't given him other details. Charlie had spent ages deciding on whether lighting candles would be too much or not and kept lighting, blowing them out, then lighting them until a knock finally came at the door.
The secluded environment that they were about to be in had inspired some ideas in Jun. He hesitated outside the door for a moment, trying to get his thoughts under control before ringing the buzzer. He continued reminding himself to not jump to conclusions and to just enjoy the movie with Charlie while he waited for her to answer the door.
Hearing the buzzer Charlie froze and took a deep breath to calm the butterflies in her stomache. She opened the door, relieved for a moment to see that Jun had also dressed casually, even though her outfit hid her much more selectively chosen lingerie. Once the door was closed behind him they embraced, almost a little awkwardly.
The two of them puttered around until eventually settling onto the couch with some snacks as they started the movie they had agreed on beforehand. Charlie was completely unable to focus on the movie as she kept going through her plan for later in the evening in her head. She was so distracted she didn't even notice Jun's lack of reactions to the comedy. He was equally as distracted as the two of them cuddled closer and closer.
Charlie couldn't handle it, about an hour into the movie she couldn't even follow what was happening. She gave up and decided to go for it. Acting on impulse, refusing herself the opportunity to overthink anymore. Pulling away from him she pulled off her shirt, revealing a lacey surprise, the swung her leg over his lap, blocking the television.
Jun, who hadn't even been paying attention and contemplating along the same (although less bold) options was taken by surprise. His hands went automatically to the hips of his girlfriend. Jun's attention was snapped to attention as his eyeline, which started at her new lingerie before traveling up to her face, forced the reaction he had been lacking from the film. His eyes wide, he couldn't help but grin as a reaction before biting his lip and increasing pressure on her hips, pulling her closer. Their lips met, the kiss passionate and deep without lacked any pretense. Charlie removed his hands from him long enough to stand and remove her jeans, revealing the rest of her lacey provocation. He had all of a full second to react, not even noticing her flush before she moved back onto his lap her arms pulling him close as their lips met again.
His hands moved up to trace the edges of her bra, moving back to touch the clasp before hesitating. She pressed against him, wordlessly encouraging him grinding on his lap. Motivated by her response he fumbled momentarily before unhooking her and exposing her torso to him. He had seen her like this once before, but the moment had been ruined by Wow bumbling into their moment. This time no such distractions marred the experience. He took the time to experience the full glory, holding her away for a few moments.
She allowed him the enjoyment before stepping off him, taking his hands in hers and pulling him up. She snuck a kiss as they stood, lasting a few seconds longer than intended, before leading him away into the bedroom where they were finally able to more fully explore their desires.
For security and privacy, Kim Hyeim had allowed Guerin and Charlie access to the main waiting area of Beat Interactive. Seyoon had worked late knowing Guerin had a personal matter to attend to. Once she texted him that she was waiting for him when he was ready, he wrapped up his work and headed to the main floor immediately.
Guerin was waiting close to the door with her surprise. As soon as the elevator doors dinged she looked up to see Seyoon stepping out. She had time to stand up before seeing a pretty young woman that had been waiting closer to the elevators pop up and rush over to him.
Seyoon was surprised with Eunkyung greeting him first at the elevator doors. "Oppa!" She greeted him excitedly, hugging him without precedent. He froze for a moment looking down at her before patting her head, causing her to look up at him, "I waited for you!" She added.
He took her shoulders and gently moved her away from him. She complied by letting him go but still leaning close to him. He wasn't sure what to say but she seemed expectant so he mentally scrambled before settling on "Why?"
"I... I like you!" She said earnestly, pushing against his hands on her shoulders again. His lost expression only grew more confused and desperate as he floundered on how to react.
"Your girlfriend... she doesn't suit you! You have more options." She pressed, "I think you should know... you don't have to settle for the first customer once your light comes on!"
Seyoon had been known to react to annoying stimuli in situations like Jun singing loudly in the shower at bedtime, but he had rarely been moved to anger. The feeling for him was less a hot flash and more a settling cold at his face froze, eyes darkening. He was spared an immediate reaction as Guerin stepped up.
Seeing Eunkyung embrace Seyoon had made her heart lurch. She stood in place gathering her emotions, forcing herself to calm down as she watched another woman overtly throwing herself on her boyfriend. Swallowing her bubbling rage she forced a smile and moved to the pair.
"Seyoonie." Guerin said, greeting her boyfriend with forced cheerfulness before staring pointedly at the shorter woman leaning into him.
Eunkyung started. She hadn't noticed Guerin come into the waiting room, unaware she was allowed and having spent the last few hours working up her courage to confess to Seyoon. Seeing Guerin, the obstacle she perceived between her and Seyoon, she stepped back but couldn't hide a hateful expression.
The animosity was not lost on Guerin, who proceeded to politely bow and introduce herself. Eunkyung barely inclined her head in response. Guerin let her gaze linger almost condescendingly on Eunkyung, her annoyance poorly hidden before she turned fully to Seyoon, "Are you ready to go?" She asked.
"One moment." He reached for Guerin's hand, the turned to Eunkyung, "My light wasn't on when I met Guerin. But meeting her changed that." Guerin looked at him, baffled by his words and sure that her language skills were failing her. He continued, "I don't expect anyone to understand. I don't need them to. Least of all you." Eunkyung's expression became hurt and shocked but he wasn't done, "Our relationship has been professional until now. It's clear to me that it can't continue. I'll speak with Kim Hyeim so you won't need to be bothered by my presence anymore. It's been nice working with you, you've done well." He bowed politely to her form as she was frozen in surprise.
"Are you serious? Her??" Eunkyung spat, recovering enough to be angry. Guerin raised her eyebrows but Seyoon spoke.
"You have been inappropriate this entire time and I've been patient. You are about to cross the line." His cold expression was unfamiliar and scary, even Guerin looked to him in surprise, "At this point you will be leaving with a good recommendation. I suggest you don't throw that away."
Eunkyung took a step backward, paused and looked at him in shock. She seemed to debate saying something, threw a last disgusted expression at Guerin then turned to leave, angry tears in her eyes. The pair watched her leave. As soon as the doors closed behind her, Seyoon pulled Guerin into him hugging her close. Guerin was temporarily lost for words. She knew she had been insulted but the interaction had been confusing, so her anger was curbed by curiosity, and embracing Seyoon who held her so tenderly helped abate the strong negative emotions she felt.
"What just happened?" She asked.
"She's not important. She was wrong." He rested his head against hers, trying to calm himself.
"Will you tell me more later?" She asked, snesing he might be too worked up now to get into details. He nodded into her. After a moment he relaxed and changed the subject.
"So what was your surprise?" He asked.
"Oh... well I hope this cheers you up..." she pulled away from him and reached down to a crate she had set behind her protectively out of habit. Opening the door a white fluffy cloud of a creature pushed out, wagging a happy tail.
Seyoon dissolved.
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(1) As much as I know of the self diagnosis vs self advocacy debate, I haven't seen anyone talk about how to self advocate when it comes to mental health. I strongly suspect I am bipolar, since I have a confirmed history of major depressive episodes, but I also have periods of experiencing symptoms of hypomania. I was also subjected to bullshit social skills classes in high school (I'm autistic), which among other things, taught me to communicate indirectly to avoid hurting people's feelings.
(2) I know it is caused me problems with communicating, but I am still in the habit of doing that, and I realized that may be why I'm not getting anywhere when I bring it up to my therapist. I'm not comfortable with resorting to self-diagnosis at this time, but I also think the lack of a correct diagnosis is why therapy has not been helping me cope as much as it could. How do I bring it up in a way that will let my therapist know I want her to address my concerns?
I praise self-advocacy as an alternative to self-diagnosis, because those ballsy enough to walk into a psychiatrist's office or a conversation and declare "I have [thing]" are probably able to more rationally approach the subject in a "These are my symptoms and I think it could be this..." way. But just like how autobiographies aren't the only kind of biography, self-advocacy is far from the only kind of advocacy.
You don't need to be your own advocate, somebody else can come along and advocate for you - a friend, a family member, a volunteer from one of the local advocacy groups, etc. There's a group near me that advocates specifically for autistic people, for example.
If your conversation skills are inhibiting you from being able to adequately discuss things with a professional, you don't have to do it alone - it's definitely worth doing some googling, popping into some places that have leaflets for that sort of thing, etc, and finding out what's available near where you live if there's nobody in your life that can do that for you.
I have two advocates - one is a family member and one is an honourary family member. I do research, send it to them, and they keep notes about my symptoms, fluctuations, things I've shown them, etc, so that my memory issues don't become a barrier between me and what I want to explain. It's a life-saver.
At my last appointment, one came along and helped me fill in the forms, meaning that I got about twice the information down that I would've got down if I was relying on only my own brain. When I had to go to a tribunal, one came along then too, and they were excellent at spotting how the judge was trying to twist my words and butting in to correct him.
If you're more comfortable self-advocating then there are a number of things that you can do to make the process easier.
Firstly, keep a diary. Every day you need to write down your symptoms, your mood, notable moments, things you want to ask the doctor, food, fluid, sleep, alcohol, etc. Take that with you.
Secondly, go over that before the appointment and write yourself a "script". It doesn't need to be detailed or word for word, just get down the most important points and the way in which you want to convey them (NOT the way in which the memory of social skills classes tells you to convey them, but what you'd want somebody to say to you if they were trying to convey this effectively to you). Take that with you.
What I did with my DID was write a draft script on a piece of A4 paper a couple of weeks beforehand, and then I let my alters add to it or make notes on it with their opinions - I took that in with me and showed the doctor, and the differences in handwriting and wording had a much bigger impact than I was expecting and really helped in getting them to seriously consider that possibility.
Thirdly, don't waffle. I know it's tempting to be like "I have to get all of the details out in the first speech", but the therapist is going to ask questions afterwards. Boil what you need to say down to its key components, the facts that you need her to understand as the foundation moving forwards, and work out how to effectively convey those in less time than somebody would get the urge to interrupt - no tangents, no innuendo, just "This. That. The other thing too." But don't skip important details for the sake of brevity - find the balance.
Fourthly, make sure that you have the right psychiatrist. The counsellor that I had in college and the clinical psychiatrist that I had in hospital were both able to pick up on the things that made me more comfortable and more able to speak, and both knew not to interrupt me - the two of them learnt more about me and made me more comfortable than any other professional, just by letting me drink a hot chocolate and doodle on my phone. The psychologist who did my mindfulness therapy, on the other hand, insulted me for using my phone and my wall became 87% thicker in less than a second. You have to be working with somebody who lets you speak and who understands the way in which you speak.
Fifthly, if you know what helps you speak, tell them; if you don't know what helps you speak, begin the conversation with words to the effect of "I'm really struggling to get this out, but I prepared really hard, so I'd really appreciate it if you'd let me say my piece, and then we can discuss it afterwards instead of you interrupting me and making it harder for me to get out what I need to get out." If they then interrupt you, remind them that at the beginning of this they promised not to do so.
Remind yourself mentally that this is your therapy, this is your recovery, this is for you, this is important, and you deserve to be heard.
Sixthly, do research but downplay how much research you've done... "I stumbled across something that accurately described my experience and they called it hypomania" sounds a lot better than "I heard of hypomania on tumblr and spent twelve hours researching it" because the latter says to a doctor "I convinced myself that I have this because it sounded cool".
I was seeing psychiatrists back when the emo fad started, I was talking to them at the height of "Teenagers are all pretending to have depression because they read about it on the internet and think it's cool" days, so I know first-hand how eager some professionals can get to jump to that conclusion - unfortunately, there were times when seeing doctors felt more like a test of my ability to word the truth in a more digestible way than an opportunity to actually talk about how I was feeling.
An essential part of research should be to get your terms right - I fucked up back in the day because I referred to my compulsion to mime slitting my wrists or shooting myself in the head when I'm panicked as a "suicidal gesture" (however there's a medical term, "suicide gesture", that sounds almost identical and it means when you feign a suicide attempt by injuring yourself in a non-deadly manner, typically for attention) and not as a compulsion, which is part of how my OCD diagnosis got wrongly changed to a BPD diagnosis. I had never even heard of the terminology, I was just saying "I have to do a suicidal gesture when I'm panicking" meaning "When I'm panicked I have the compulsion to mime ways in which I envision killing myself", it was just poor wording, I had no idea that it was a medical term with an entirely different meaning. That created a huge misunderstanding, as you can imagine.
Seventhly is some advice that a friend gave me and honestly it's one of the best things that I've ever heard and comes in two parts: 1) play to your strengths, and 2) use your acting voice.
So part 2 is the easy one, everybody has something called a chest voice - it's a deeper voice that you use when singing or performing that projects better. Look up some YouTube videos on how to use your chest voice and practice it - it conveys a confidence that most people's normal voices do not. You could also stand in front of a mirror and work on your facial expressions.
Part 1 is a little more complicated and probably something that people will frown upon me for saying but... in this world you gotta be a little manipulative sometimes, you've got to assess situations and respond accordingly, you've got to word things certain ways.
I'm a very small, quiet person with an accent that immediately halves my IQ to everyone who hears it, it is near enough impossible for me to convey an air of superiority and maturity, but it's easy for me to play dumb and sweet. I can't get the psychiatrist to shut up by being somebody who sounds like I know what I'm talking about, if I get annoyed or snap it won't look like anger (I'm too quiet and I physically do not possess angry face muscles, I hate it), but if I go quiet and stare sadly at the floor then people notice and ask what's wrong. I can't get somebody to inherently assume that when I name a disorder I know what I'm talking about, but I can pretend that I've never heard of it or heard it in passing, and lead them into suggesting it.
I'm an extreme case in this regard and it's usually not a good idea to hide your real emotions and act when you're in a scenario where somebody is literally monitoring your body language for signals... there are definitely hardcore disadvantages and risks to that, and I am most certainly not recommending misleading your doctor, in fact I'm actively advising against doing that (I'm just saying that I do that sometimes, because I'm a dick and because my voice trying to yell "Shut the fuck up!" when I feel that angry usually only earns an "It doesn't even sound like swearing when you do it, that's adorable." because I'm fucking cursed).
What I am saying though is that I can't tell you exactly how to act (in fact, I'd be encouraging you to do something that I literally just said is bad if I did tell you how to act), I can't tell you exactly what words to say, where to put your hands, etc. The tip here is that you've got to be able to improvise, to assess the situation, to adapt, to know what you are and are not capable of and work within that, to see when a path is either going nowhere or going off topic and figure out how to direct it back, you've got to know how to talk to that specific person (professionals are just people, at the end of the day, and every person is different in how they speak and how they like being spoken to - some respond best to you casually bringing stuff up, some respond to structure, some click with you, some really don't).
Eighthly and most importantly, don't let any of this get you nervous. This advice is almost a "How to survive some of the shittiest doctors I had" sort of thing. The most likely outcome is that they're going to listen intently to what you have to say, trust you, respect you, ask the appropriate questions, and help you make sense of what's going on.
I have no doubt that you can do this and that you will absolutely rock it - you don't need that confidence in yourself, but reminding yourself that it's going to go well, that you're badass, that the professional is there to help you, and that they'll want this information as much as you want them to have it, that stuff will help. Believe in the heart of the cards, or the power of friendship, or your Pokémon, or something.
So, to put all this into something vaguely actionable (although I can't really give you much specific advice because I don't know what's going on in your head, so this is just like... idk vague template example thingy), the foundation of what you want your doctor to know is "I have the symptoms of hypomania, I want you to seriously consider the possibility that this is bipolar and not just depression."
In your symptom diary, keep track of the symptoms of hypomania - irritability, sleeplessness, recklessness, elation, etc - note down when they show up, how bad they are, how they impact you, your food and fluid and alcohol intake, the times of day when certain things happened, how well and long you slept, etc, but also jot down the depressive episodes and other potential symptoms, in case you need to answer questions in regards to those.
Next, write down the key points that you want to bring up on a separate note: how often did the symptoms generally show up? for how long? which are the most damaging? what is the worst thing that happened as a result?
Now you're in the appointment with your note and diary, you've told the doctor "You know I have some communication issues so I really need you to let me say what I've prepared, because I feel like the fact that the things I'm about to discuss aren't being addressed is really inhibiting my therapy." The doctor has agreed to let you speak and you've got your notes in front of you, and you say (a more applicable to you equivalent of) "I started a symptom diary a little while ago, I've brought it with me - I made note of symptoms, food intake, medication, sleep, and so on. I noticed that I was getting exceptionally irritable and hyperactive, especially during periods of a few days when I wasn't exhibiting as many of the depression symptoms, and I've ruled out sleep, food, and other factors as causes. On the fourth of last month, I got so restless that I couldn't sit down and I actually gave myself blisters pacing back and forth for six hours - while during the depressive episodes I can barely even manage to walk to the bathroom let alone pace. I came across an article online while looking up ways to ease the irritability, and I found that a few people described things incredibly similar to what I was going through, and they used the term 'hypomania'. I was hoping that we could talk through the symptoms that I've documented, and you could help me get my head around what's going on and how to treat it."
Then the doctor asks her questions, you answer as honestly and fully as you can, and try to cite evidence from your symptom diary.
If you can't manage to say the words that you need to say to start off such a conversation, then instead of just writing notes you could fully write out what it is that you want to say, and ask them to read it - explaining that you feel especially anxious about your ability to vocally express this, but it needs to be addressed because it's negatively impacting your therapy and your state of life.
Or, as I suggested at the beginning, have somebody else come along as an advocate.
That's just my advice stemming from my own experience... for some people, this advice might be unhelpful. As I mentioned earlier, you need to assess your situation, assess what you are and are not capable of, assess how your doctor usually responds to you, what they respond well to and what they respond poorly to, and so on - everybody's situation is different, so there isn't a list of "This is exactly what to say and do to get a doctor to listen to you" (as much as the crowd of people who adore convincing doctors that they have the next fad would love for there to be something like that). Ultimately, like any conversation, it's about what works best for the two individuals involved in that specific conversation.
Since I've broached this less from a general self-advocacy stand point (heck, I may even have pissed off self-advocacy people because a lot of this was "tips on how to stop shitty doctors being shitty" rather than all of the stuff about keeping records and knowing your rights and so forth) and more from a "personalized tips pulled from Vape's ceramic jar of ways to avoid my shitty mistakes", I'm now going to give you a handful of links to some more professional self-advocacy sites, and I recommend that you do proper research on the topic for a few hours on google. As flattered as I am that you came to me, and as hopeful as I am that my advice helps in some way, me waffling about the ways I avoid getting screwed over again isn't professional advice - I'm very aware, as someone who's worked in a youth group, that I am not the fountain of all knowledge and that it is my job to pass you on to those more capable and to ensure that you know that my word isn't law.
So check out some of these and do more specific research and googling when you have the time (these aren't all about self-advocacy in medical care, some are about self-advocacy in other areas or advocacy in general, but I hope the advice may still be useful):
https://www.mind.org.uk/information-support/guides-to-support-and-services/advocacy/#.WlaI26CnzqA
http://www.familyaware.org/how-to-model-mentalhealth-selfadvocacy/
http://www.cooltanarts.org.uk/what-we-offer/self-advocacy/
https://www.voiceability.org/support-for-you/self-advocacy/
http://www.dhs.state.il.us/page.aspx?item=39797
https://www.ncld.org/archives/action-center/what-we-ve-done/self-advocacy-5-tips-from-a-student
https://m.huffpost.com/us/entry/9767596
https://www.includenyc.org/resources/video-detail/10-self-advocacy-tips-for-young-people-with-disabilities
https://www.kidney.org/content/5-tips-self-advocacy
Also, full disclosure, I haven't thoroughly read all of these and I'm low on sleep and running on way more caffeine than I should really have had... I'm probably not in the best state to be imparting important information right now, but I really hope that somewhere in this jumble I said something that was useful. (I also love how the quality just gradually declines after I start craving a cigarette at the midway point... I'm so sorry.)
EDIT: PS I'm sorry that I got pronouns and job titles and stuff jumbled up all through this, uhh, my brain is running on super fast mode right now so it's not really accessing all of the important files or deeper processing. I'm sorry, again.
Alternatively, if your therapist is super great and trusts you "I think I've been experiencing hypomania, and I think this may be bipolar and not just depression" will work fine... but the symptom diary, that is a good tip for anybody and everybody, regardless.
~ Vape
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nonawaaa · 3 years
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Lovers Series: Forsaken Story
1, 2, 3, 4
“Good morning Dr. Haruno!”  
“Hello! Looks like you’re here for your monthly check up that’s good!”Sakura greats one patient as she walks by the hallway that leads to her office.  
She’s been good. Better than good actually. It’s been about a year since she graduated, she aced all her exams during her final year, did well on her final paper, earned awards, graduated top of her class and she got to the job of her choice, she couldn’t be better. She’s happy.  
As she lay down on the couch on her office her phone rang. It’s Ino.  
“Hey forehead! Wow! You look shit!”  
“Well yeah I just finished a 10-hour surgery I also feel like shit Ino,”  Sakura said to answer her friend’s assumption.  
“God! 10 hours?! Proud of you! Though you really need to rest!”  Ino looks so happy, all smiles and everything, she also seems glowing. She’s happy for both of them, they really went a long way.  
“Hai  hai , I plan to don’t worry, also where the hell are you? Whenever you call,  it’s like your background is never the same,”
“I’m in Paris dumbass I sent you a massage!”  
“Really?! I haven’t checked my messages I’m sorry.  Well, I'm glad you had a safe flight at least,”
“Wow thank you for that my doting friend! I  gotta go forehead I’m doing fittings,”
“Go give Paris hell Ino proud of you,” Sakura said with her eyes now closed, she’s just ready to sleep and rest, she’s been up for at least 24 hours now.  
“ Of course I will, take a rest Sakura seriously, love  yaaah !”  
The call ends and her brain  is  doing its best to process their conversation, she can’t believe she missed Ino’s message. Sakura is actually been thinking of going on a break, her senior is also telling her to and she feels like really shitty lately.  
‘Later, I’m  gonna  tell  Shizune-san ...’  Sakura tells herself but soon fell asleep.  
***
“Uhm...  Shizune-san ?” Sakura peeks on the door of her senior, planning to tell her  ‘break ’, if her senior still agrees to let her take a break she can get her to at least write to the Head Doctor about the matter, she knows she can do it by herself but the Head Doctor has a strong personality and is pretty scary so might as well have a  backup .  
“Oh Sakura! Come in!”  
“Hai  Shizune-san , uhm...”  
“What is it Sakura?”
“ Shizune-san , about the break  you're talking about...”
“You mean you now consider taking a break?”
“Yes, I mean, hopefully I can, if you agree of course,” Sakura said trying to suppress her pleading eyes, she really wants to rest.  
“ Of course you can! You’ve been working so hard!”
“Really?! Thank you so much  Shizune-san ! Also... would you write to Tsunade- sama ... about this?”Sakura not suppressing her pleading eyes to her senior, now that she knows that  Shizune  is in her side, she knows that there is a big chance that Tsunade- sama  will agree to.  
“Really? You do know that I’m also a bit scared of Tsunade- sama right?”Her senior looks at her with  ‘don’t-make-me-do-this-Sakura'  eyes.  
“But you’re the closest to her you know,” Sakura looks at her senior with  ‘please- shizune - san -I'm-begging-you'  eyes, letting their eyes do most of the talking,  Shizune-san  suddenly let out a sigh then walks toward her office door.  
“Okay! I will but, you’re coming with me, I'm going to her office now so you might as well come,”  Shizune  said to Sakura with a smile on her face as she turns towards the door, she knows she didn’t win their eye talk but she will not let Sakura win either.  
“ Urg fine! Let’s go and talk to our loving Head Doctor,” Sakura stands up and walked towards the door like a kid who’s suddenly given a chore to do, ready to throw a tantrum any moment.  
***
“Take a break?! What if we got many patients tomorrow? The next day? The day after the next? What do we do huh?” Sakura flinched on Tsunade-sama's reasoning. She knows it’s a bit selfish going on a break but there’s a lot going on, she’s moving apartments this week and all.  
“Tsunade- sama listen to all what Sakura was about to say, okay? You only heard the ‘taking a break’ part,”Sakura couldn’t be more thankful that she has  Shizune-san  is by her side, if it wasn’t for her the moment Tsunade-sama said her reason she would go straight to the door and back to her office. We don’t want to experience Tsunade- sama  anger alone that’s why she brought  Shizune-san .  
“Okay go on Sakura,”
“As I was saying Tsunade- sama , I have finished all the reports needed for the week, if you are worried about the  patients, I will come as soon as you page me, as for the patients I have, I have finished all their check-ups and there is nothing serious with them, all good... and I’m kind of... moving apartments this week so I really want to start packing,”  Sakura said as slow and steady as possible but whenever she notices Tsunade- sama  brow flick up she will almost instantly say the next part of her explanation so she couldn’t say a thing.  
“You haven’t started packing?!”Sakura flinch again to Tsunade-sama's not so loud voice.  
“That’s why she also wants to take a break Tsunade- sama , give Sakura a rest will you,”  Shizune-san  ready to back Sakura up. Sakura, still sitting on the chair in front of Tsunade’s desk looking like a child who’s waiting for her parents to give her permission.  
“Okay, I agree, you can take a break, but! You need to come  here as  soonas possible if we need you, understood?!”  Tsunade- sama  gave emphasis on the ‘but’ but Sakura is already dancing in her head.  
“Thank you Tsunade- sama ! Yes, I will, don’t worry about it!”  
“You may leave,” Tsunade ushering them out of her office. As soon as  Shizune  and Sakura is out of the office, Sakura hugged  Shizune .  
“Oh! Thank you  Shuzine-san ! I promise to bring you a gift next week!”
“Make sure about that,” Sakura runs to her office to get her bags, she’s excited to have a warm shower even better, have a warm bath in her new apartment.  
***
Sakura is walking down the street to her dorm, after she graduated, and she plead to the landlord to let her stay for another year until she’s able to find a new apartment. The building is for students in the campus that’s why after you graduate you need to go to give place to new students, Sakura is lucky she was able to stay for another year. Now that she found a bigger and better apartment near the hospital, she won’t be spending at least 1 hour of commute to go to work.  
She’s now near her dorm, walking on the sidewalk, when she saw an unfamiliar car in the next building.  
‘Seems like new students moving in huh,’  Sakura said to herself and went in her building and straight to her room.  
Her room is small. Small enough for one student, but when your part of the working class it may not be enough for one person. She had started packing actually, but just the little bits, she did the kitchen first which is the smallest section in her dorm and not a lot of things, she also started the bathroom things and that’s just it.  
“I... need to pack... but a warm shower would be better,” Sakura said to herself while looking around her dorm in a total mess. She got to her bathroom and run herself a warm shower, she can’t wait to have a warm bath in her new  apartment , that was one of the things she’s most excited about.  
After her well-deserved shower, she went straight to packing, the first moving truck is coming tomorrow morning so she needs to at least pack half of her belongings. She starts with the bathroom, which is a bunch of towels and toiletries, Sakura is obsessed with scented candles, she didn’t expect to become a candle person but when she read ‘Good Sleep’ in the packaging she was sold, she packed an entire box of just candles. Done with the bathroom.  
Now she starts with her bedroom which is the last section of her dorm. She started with her study desk which is full of books and post-it notes, she still hasn’t removed some of the notes because it was helpful when she first started in the hospital, so she kept those notes in a separate folder and put it in the box, next is her stationaries, which is lots and lots of colored pens and highlighters, then her books, study desk, done.  
Next is her bed and her bedside table, she was planning to do her closet but she knows that would be the longest so she saved that for the last. There isn’t much to do in her bed since she won’t bring it with her, so it’s just the bedside table, bed sheet and her pillows. Cleaning and packing the bedside table  is  like a trip to first year college. Full of objects that have sentimental value for Sakura, Sakura likes to collect things that would remind her of ‘that’ specific time, there's pictures of her and Ino from their first ever trip together, some pressed flowers given by Ino’s roommate and a bunch of things that made her smile. She had a pause when she found Ino’s sleeping picture and she laughed so hard she needed to send it to her friend.  
It’s about 8 pm when she decided to leave the closet for tomorrow since she hired two moving trucks, one for the morning and one coming in the afternoon. She is hungry so she called take out, when she was waiting for her food, she’s taking pictures of her dorm windows to post it in her social media accounts, she is just so ready to leave. Take out arrived and Sakura went down to get it.  
“Thank you very much,” Sakura said to the delivery guy and when she was about to get in the building, she noticed the car again and the door in the next building open but nobody went out. She was confused but just went inside.  
‘Bunch of kids playing,’  is all she thought, she just jumped into conclusions that it was freshmen students going out to party, when she was in  freshmen  she was so scared to go out at night she just stayed in her room.  
After eating her dinner, she got ready for bed and prayed that she will finish her closet in time tomorrow.  
***
The next day, the first moving truck came at about 8 am, Sakura was busy since then, helping the movers with the boxes, explaining where to put them in the apartment and stuff. After lunch she went straight to packing her closet.  
“Okay, shoes done, clothes... erm... almost done and the upper storage last.  Whoooo ! You can do this Sakura!” hyping herself up as she goes through the last stage of packing and finally, ready to move.  
She finished packing her clothes and as she was reaching for the last box in the upper storage, it fell down on her.  
“Ow! What is in that box?!” She exclaimed, she thought that the box is light but turns out it was heavier than she thought. As she opens the box, she found her polaroid camera together with some pictures.  
She didn’t expect to see her camera, hell she forgot she had that. She went to the bed which is now just a mattress and look through the box. Her camera and some pictures, this were the pictures she kept hidden when she went back home almost two years ago, the pictures that helped her, go through something, emotionally.  
‘Goodluck with mixing medicines Dr. Haruno’, ‘Dr. Haruno’  reads the note in the two pictures, she smiled, she came a long way, she’s now a doctor, well, getting there. Another picture of her parents, oh how she  misses  them, she  take  a note to visit them soon.  
“ ‘Dr. Haruno’ huh Sasuke- kun ? Well, I’m happy to tell you that I’m very close to that dream. How about you? Have you become the businessman you dreamt about? I sure hope so you know,”  she said to the picture. She feels dumb for talking to the picture again after two years but she knows this is a good metaphor for her.  
“Do you know I’m moving apartments now Sasuke- kun ?”Sakura said as she lay in the bed and looks at the ceiling. Same as she did before, ‘how ironic’ she thinks.  
“I’m happy, I wish you’re happy too,”  
“I would be lying if I tell you that I didn’t wished for us to see each other again,”  
“It would have been really fun Sasuke- kun , if you really would have been the one,”  
“But that’s life, we need to move on,”  
“I sure hope you’re happy, anywhere you are, Sasuke- kun ,”  
Sakura said as she sat up her bed again and put the pictures back to the box, when she was ready to close the box, she notices another picture. A picture of her, taken by her, her own reflection shown in the picture, her smile not too genuine like she has one right now, but still the same after two years, she still thinks she’s beautiful.  
“I’ve come a really long way huh?” She said to herself, she remembers the night in the picture. The next day she went home and her parents made sure she got her well-deserved rest.  
She noticed that there’s no note in her picture and she remembered why, she was waiting for the perfect time. The time that maybe she miraculously saw Sasuke- kun  again and had their love story going. But she got another ‘perfect timing’. She went to her bag and look for a pen.  
‘Growth’  
She wrote as it’s note, the word felt fitting, she did come a long way, she have grown, she learned a lot after what happened with Sasuke- kun , she learned to love herself because of what happened. Also, she doesn’t even know if what happened with Sasuke- kun  is considered as moving on as nothing really happened. He just left.  
She put everything back and put them in the last box, just in time with the moving truck. She feels relieve that she made it in time after having her moment. Relieve that she will be moving. As she walks towards the truck which she will be also riding to get to the other apartment, she noticed that the street is now empty. She looked at the building she lived in for 5 years, she’s happy she’s moving, moving for the better.  
“I’m happy now Sasuke- kun , I told you I’d be happy”  
________________________________________________________________
for·sak·en
/fərˈsākən/  
adjective
abandoned or deserted by someone or something.  
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And this is the end for the Forsaken Story! What do you guys think? I'm so thankful for those who read this and I'm so excited to start the next part of the Lovers Series. Also someone is suggesting that I make a bonus chapter or some sort been thinking about that (*^▽^*)
Next part will be Lovers Series: Broken Story
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douchebagbrainwaves · 6 years
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WHY I'M SMARTER THAN LAW
But I think that, like species, languages will form evolutionary trees, with dead-ends branching off all over it. They'd prefer not to deal with customers, and a Web browser.1 This is supposed to do where they happen to be the next big thing. And server-based software, all you need is a browser connected to the outside world as to inoculate themselves against arrogance. There's nothing more valuable than the advice of someone whose judgement you trust. If you have to rewrite to beat an essay into shape. Good founders have a healthy respect for reality.2 You could combine one of these chips with some memory 256 bytes in the first Altair, and front panel switches, and you'd have a working computer.
And so began the study of ancient texts had such prestige that it remained the backbone of education until the late 19th century. That's orders of magnitude better than desktop software.3 How well you're doing a few months later will depend more on how happy you made those users than how many there were of them.4 But when I finally tried living there for a bit last year, and the huge scale of the successes means we can afford to be. If you can find just one user who really needs something and can act on that need, you've got a toehold in making something people want. The Mac was popular with hackers when it first came out, he said that while it was a new type of application. That's a stricter standard than admiration.5 Obviously that's false: anything else people make can be well or badly designed; why should this be uniquely impossible for programming languages? You're not limited to small, artificial focus groups. They were all just side projects.
For a big company it's necessarily the dominant one.6 I walked into the final, the main thing I'd be feeling was curiosity about which of my questions would turn up on the exam. And be imaginative about the axis along which the replacement occurs. The big thing in LA seems to be something you write in order to read Aristotle. One developer told me: As a result of their process, the App Store, and it's gratuitously stupid to do that current technology won't let you? Imagine if we were visited by aliens.7 This is not only possible, it's how Apple, Yahoo, Google, and Facebook have all had hacker-centric culture. Perl, Python, and Ruby. It's in fields like the arts or writing or technology that the larger environment matters. Problems Why is it that research can be done by collaborators and design can't?
If you're not omniscient, you just stop working on it. It's Parkinson's Law running in reverse. So how do you choose between ideas? Kenneth Clark is the best nonfiction writer I know of, on any subject. There's not even a tradeoff here.8 Finding startup ideas is to take it for granted.9 Programmers and system administrators traditionally each have their own separate worries.10 4-8 weeks to get that bug fix approved, leaving users to think that iPhone apps sometimes just don't work. That makes Wodehouse doubly impressive, because it meant they could help the users, but also all the ideas that implementing it would have led to. As of this writing, Cambridge seems to be a case of premature optimization.11
It looks as if it will be because it's more convenient. I run into difficulties, I notice that I tend to conclude with a few vague questions and then drift off to get a job. When we talk to founders about good and bad investors, one of the greats, but he's an especial hero to me because of Lisp.12 That means for each big winner we could pick a thousand companies that returned nothing and still end up 10x ahead. Even Bill Gates made that mistake.13 So if you want to start a startup one day, but who else is investing? The strategy works just as well if you do. You can, however, trust your gut.14 For most successful startups it's a necessary part of the core of a language as a set of axioms, and the best research solves problems that are not even rich—leaders of important open source projects, for example. In the past when I bought things from Apple it was an unalloyed pleasure. Most people, most of the special-purpose objects around us are going to take over the world is not just something to worry about bugs, especially since you probably introduced them in the course of adding some feature they were asking for. As an angel, you have a lot.
Notes
They'd freak if they were forced to stop, the jet engine, but I took so long. Parker, op. Well, of course the source of income and b was popular in Germany told me: One YC founder wrote after reading a draft, Sam Rayburn and Lyndon Johnson. Not even being deliberately misleading by focusing on people who chose the wrong ISP.
Viaweb we once had a tiny. Until recently even governments sometimes didn't grasp the distinction between the subset that will be maximally profitable when each employee is paid in proportion to the minimum you need is a rock imitating a butterfly that happened to get kids into better colleges, I believe, which shows how unimportant the Arpanet which became the twin centers from which Renaissance civilization radiated.
Managers are presumably wondering, how could I get attacked a lot of great things were created mainly to make peace. Some founders listen more than one who passes. So if it's dismissed, it's software that was more expensive, a lot.
Algorithms that use it are called naive Bayesian. It's a bit much to maintain their percentage. I may try to make it easier to sell, or want tenure, avoid the conclusion that tax rates don't tell 5 year olds the truth to say that hapless meant unlucky. You won't always get a job after college, they could not have gotten where they are.
I've twice come close to 18% of GDP, which would harm their all-important GPA.
8%, Linux 11. I talk about real income ignores much of a company, meaning master. Patrick Collison wrote At some point has a title. They have the determination myself.
And since there are those that made a lot of startups is that you're small and use whatever advantages that brings. It may be heading for a group of Europeans who said he'd met with a no-shop clause.
Some of the venture business.
Look at those goddamn fleas, they may then, depending on how much of it. But there are lots of options, of course it was the least VC-like. You know in their early twenties.
When I was as bad an employee as this place was a kind of secret about the Airbnbs during YC is how much of a severe-looking man with a few people have to make up startup ideas is to carry a beeper? European art. Even now it's hard to say that intelligence is the way investors say No. And I have omitted one type: artists trained to paint from life, and a wing collar who had worked for a while ago, and the restrictions on what people will feel a strong one.
This is why it's such a large chunk of this policy may be loud and disorganized, but mediocre investors almost all do, and that most people than subsequent millions.
This probably undervalues the company will be pressuring you to acknowledge as well as good ones. That's the best are Goodwin Procter, Wilmer Hale, and a few hours of advice from your neighbor's fifteen year old, a player who persists in trying such things will do that. Startups are businesses; the point of view: either an IPO. In the average major league baseball player's salary during the entire period since the war on drugs show, bans often do more with less, then add beans don't drain the beans, and as a whole is becoming less fragmented, the average car restoration you probably do make everyone else and put our worker on a desert island, hunting and gathering fruit.
Ten years later.
It's conceivable that the path from ideas to startups has recently been getting smoother.
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douchebagbrainwaves · 7 years
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WHY I'M SMARTER THAN FALL
Another way to make people happy. Actually, neither do VCs. Most people don't really enjoy being mean; they do it and you don't take investment, then competitors who do will have an advantage over you. Control of a company as rich as Microsoft. Going upstairs his bulk will be more of them to recognize and attract. Then for each ask, might this be true? And there are other topics that might seem harmless, like the Soviet Union didn't have a computer industry, it remained for them a theory; they didn't have hardware capable of executing the calculations fast enough to design an actual airplane.1 The importance of degrees is due solely to the administrative needs of large organizations.2 So the main value of whatever you launch with is as a pretext for engaging users.3 While refutation generally entails quoting, quoting doesn't necessarily imply refutation.4 Then it struck me: this is the thinnest of historical veneers. Riskier Strategies are Possible Risk is always proportionate to reward, if you can.5
Zooming out and seeing his current position on the disagreement hierarchy makes people less mean, that will change the way they want. What Make something people want is for startups, Pick the right startups. Another way to make a billion dollars a year worth of work, like acting or writing books, you can't make for yourself. It's what acquirers care about.6 Together they were able to give a demo of their live site. One reason Google doesn't have a problem doing acquisitions, the others would be more likely to close, so of deals that close, more will have multiple investors. The ideal thing might be if you built a precisely defined derivative version of your product for the customer, and it seems to me one of the 15 big successes, so that in retrospect it seems obvious they were going to spend the weekend at a friend's house on a little island off the coast of Maine. Fortunately we got bought at the top: the best design surpasses its predecessors by using new ideas, and the company seems more valuable if it seems like all the good ideas came from within. So many of the things I always tell startups is a principle I learned from Paul Buchheit: it's better to follow the opposite policy. The first time it raised money. We often tell startups to release a minimal version one quickly, then let the needs of all potential users.
For example, in the sense that the decisions are hard.7 The whole Viaweb site was made with our software, even though the latter depends more on determination than brains.8 Scientists go looking for trouble.9 But if wealth is the important thing, why does everyone talk about making money can make it harder to understand how to make the team, and his servers would grind to a halt under the load, which would make them unavailable to the people whose job is to judge them are going to have to pry the plugs out of my cold, dead ears, however. The 2005 summer founders ranged in age from 18 to 28 average 23, and there would be no room for investors to make money but to try to explain in the simplest possible terms what McCarthy discovered. As the fashion becomes established they'll be joined by a second, much larger group, driven by fear. To refute someone you probably have to quote them. It's particularly important to raise money is not when you need it, but if I had to guess now, I'd predict three or four of the eight startups we funded, we had several founders who said they'd thought of applying before, but weren't sure and got jobs instead. One of the founders said I'd read that starting a startup consumed your life, but I had no idea what that meant until I did it. The problem with patent reform is that it has to be in a situation with measurement and leverage. So ultimately we're aiming for the same reason I did look under rocks as a kid: plain curiosity.
There isn't so much at stake in his interactions with other investors seems the complementary countermove. The force of a refutation depends on what you refute. Is a way of saying, I want to do. He's a senator. But by Galileo's time the church was in the throes of the Counter-Reformation and was much more worried about unorthodox ideas. For example, it might be interesting to look at things people do say, and get paid for it.10 But my main conclusion from the summer is that there's more environment in the mix than most people realize. Contradiction can sometimes have some weight. Acquirers will also have to be. That tends to be slow.
Now almost every drawing teacher will tell you the company is small, you are thereby fairly close to measuring the contributions of individual employees. If one likes you, you become a member of an institution. In fact, a high valuation can be a bad thing. If we ever got to the point where startups can least afford it. You don't need to be in a situation with measurement and leverage. This article is derived from a keynote talk at the fall 2002 meeting of NEPLS. They do it because I don't like the idea of being mistaken.
But the founders I heard from aren't noobs or control freaks. Number of users may not be just something you do to survive, but may turn out to be a bit smarter to dominate Internet search than you had to be to dominate railroads or hotels or newspapers. The more labels you have for yourself, the dumber they make you.11 Once you realize how little most people judging you care about: how much you make, and you don't take investment, then competitors who do will have an advantage over you if they do it and you don't have to answer them. Trevor also appears as Trevino Bagwell in our directory of web designers merchants could hire to build stores for them. But there were no problems this summer. Like a lot of changes that have been forced on VCs, this change won't turn out to be as a startup, it will become less of a role as gatekeepers. I used to think all VCs were the same. Whereas companies that sue startups for patent infringement. It is not merely helpful in solving hard problems, but I think it will also be found to be true in businesses that don't seem to be created the way ordinary fashions are. They don't know what's hard, or what they're capable of. As with most nature/nurture questions, the answer is probably: some of each.
It's doing something people want. For example, if a senator wrote an article saying senators' salaries should be increased, one could respond: Of course he would say that. In the sciences, true collaboration seems to be a constant throughout history: In every period of history, there seem to have been a bargain to buy us at an early stage startup. It's getting more straightforward to get things started. This is not a fixed pie.12 If anywhere should be quiet, that should cause dramatic changes. Really hot companies sometimes have high standards for angels. Draw a sharp line between your thoughts and your speech. Stupid, perhaps, but not great. Fortunately there is a step beyond thinking of yourself as x but tolerating y: not even to consider yourself an x. Launching teaches you what you should have been choosing all along.
When starting a startup was expensive, you had to render display text as images. When you want something, you must have it, no matter how technically adept you are. Angels are different in this respect. Ditto for Wal-Mart. Great work tends to grow out of ideas that others have overlooked, and no one else has noticed yet. I think it will also be considered to have triumphed, as if that could be done for the asking.13 That's why we advise groups to ignore issues like scalability, internationalization, and heavy-duty security at first. It doesn't matter if they underestimate you because of some surface imperfection, because the best founders are better at seeing the future than the best investors are much smarter than the rest, and the Inquisition was a bit restive at that time. But the market doesn't have to be big, and it was otherwise a straight product sale. As anyone who has tried to optimize software knows, the key is measurement.
Notes
The unintended consequence is that they could imagine needing in their graphic design. Ditto for case: I switch in mid-century big companies funded 3/4 of their professional code segregate themselves from the bottom as they are within any given person might have 20 affinities by this standard, and at least one beneficial feature: it might actually be bad if the sender happens to compensate for another. I realize revenue and not fixing them fast enough, the work that seems formidable from the rest of the rest generate mediocre returns, it's not the only reason I say in principle is that coming into office hours, they've already made the decision.
Some want to get to college somewhere with real research professors.
Do not finance your startup with a company that could start this way probably should. Something similar has been decreasing globally. In a project like a ragged comb.
Unfortunately these times are a different idea of getting too high a valuation from an interview, I'd appreciate hearing from you. A Plan for Spam I used to say no to drugs.
You'd have to follow redirects, and only incidentally to tell them what to do others chose Marx or Cardinal Newman, and that we don't want to be something you need is a facebook exclusively for college students. One of the bizarre stuff. The reason Y Combinator certainly never asks what classes you took in college.
I can hear them in their social lives that didn't already exist. I preferred to call the market.
Some graffiti is quite impressive anything becomes art if you were still employed in your country controlled by the time. Stone, Lawrence, Family and Fortune: Studies in Aristocratic Finance in the standard edition of Aristotle's contribution? The solution was a sudden drop-off in scholarship just as you can describe each strategy in terms of the things you're taught.
Most people let them mix pretty promiscuously.
MITE Corp.
Microsoft must know in the 1980s was enabled by a combination of a rolling close is to create a web-based applications, and the editor, which merchants used to reply that they violate current startup fashions. The Quotable Einstein, Princeton University Press, 1996.
I think lack of movement between companies combined with self-perpetuating if they were more the aggregate are overpaid. It may have been the general manager of a city's potential as a predictor.
But I think the main reason is that some of the growth is genuine. Which is probably a real poet. But becoming a police state. Sofbot.
I think the top stories were de facto consulting firm. Yahoo, but no more than serving as examples of other VCs who can predict instead of hiring them. His theory was that there is the only one. We try to write a subroutine to do it is still hard to pick the words we use for good and bad outcomes have origins in words about luck.
Thanks to Jackie McDonough, Trevor Blackwell, and Ron Conway for sharing their expertise on this topic.
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