#i think the most valuable lesson he taught me (other than how to summon him via food) is probably boundaries

[solsticethebatearedfox]

damn, cats really are Creatures, aren't they? Couldn't find my sweet boy anywhere in the house, swore he was inside for the night, but he wasn't in any of his usual spots. And I couldn't see him anywhere else either - I even checked in the kitchen cupboard. So, I instead loudly opened his food drawer, and made tin cluttering noises. He instantly teleported in front of me from who knows where. Typical 🙄

#i love him so much it's unreal #had him for 11 years #basically grew up together #i think the most valuable lesson he taught me (other than how to summon him via food) is probably boundaries #i'm way better and understanding and respecting his boundaries my own and other people's #i would have learnt that eventually but having him rip my scalp open as a kid definitely sped up the process #now i can't even remember the last time he scratched me intentionally #I'm definitely not the best cat dad #i could have trained him better growing up #but he follows me around the house sometimes #and when i get back after a holiday he purrs louder than ever #he's such a sweetheart omg #like. he literally won't get up on my bed without prompting even though he's slept there almost every night for 11 years #he always makes sure it's okay first 🥺🥺🥺🥺 #and even in summer (like 40° aussie summer) he sleeps right next to me #hes my favourite. my beautiful sweet gray boy. #solstice irl

[four-letter-girl]

InuKag Fanfic Recommendations

Hi everyone 🌻

I joined the Inuyasha fandom over the summer, and I’ve been having a good time reading fanfiction since finishing the series. Recommendation posts helped me find some great ones. I’ve decided to put one together for fun [lmao for all 10 of my followers - squad]. These are fics I’ve enjoyed [i.e. binged and used as COVID coping mechanisms]. They aren’t in any particular order. I’m sure there are plenty I’ve read that I’m forgetting, but I wasn’t exactly planning to do this.

I’m copy and pasting the summaries from the writers with each link because that’s more helpful than my fangirl thoughts about each one. Ha. I’ve included ratings, but this list is being made with the assumption you’ll determine if a fic is right for you by reading Author Notes and additional ratings within each link.

I tagged the Tumblrs of the authors I follow/could find. If you see someone on here who isn’t tagged and you know their Tumblr, let me know and I can add them. Also, I’ve been using Tumblr less than a month, and I have no idea what I’m doing. If I’ve done something wrong or something looks weird, THAT’S WHY. 💀

As of 11.22.20

Multi-Chapter In Progress:

(T) Light Me a Lantern by Novaviis / @inuyashasforest: “Picking up the pieces after being separated for three years isn't as easy as it may seem. A quiet, burning kind of chaos sweeps through Feudal Japan, and it's going to take a lot more than a fairy tale ending to put things back together. They defeated a man who would become the Devil. Can they survive a man who would become a God?”

(M) Behind the Silk Screen by Eiennobasho / @eien-no-basho: “When a twist of fate brings the common-born priestess Kagome to serve Inuyasha, Divine Emperor of Japan, will she be able to help him claim his place on the throne and bring order to their country? Or will court intrigues and their own burgeoning feelings tear the two and their nation apart? A historical romance set in Japan’s Heian Era.”

(M) Fate Carving by willowandfog / @willowandfog: “The human world has been brought to its knees by the demons, reverting their culture back a century. Demons now control everything and the humans? Set to be servants forever. Kagome’s city is ruled over by the Inu youkai clan and when she goes to Kaede on her 18th birthday for her required “Fate Carving,” the tattoo that will determine what her place is in the world, she’s stunned, terrified, and overwhelmed by the results. Everyone she’s ever known has been a worker, but when has Kagome ever been the same as everyone else?” (M) Kintsugi by Evilillusions / @soliska: “Failing to be chosen as her village's miko, Kagome had resigned herself to a humble life. An unexpected summons returns her to the city where she's forced to reconcile the taught virtues and the spiralling, warped reality created by those that abuse their power. She holds the key to repairing the fracture between humans and youkai, and the freedom of her new hanyou friend.” (M) Bound Across Time by wonderwander / @thornedraven: “InuYasha and Kagome are separated for three years, travelling for so long together only to be ripped apart without so much as a good-bye. Pain and heartache manifests itself in different ways. It hardens you or breaks you. How long can one hold on to hope?” (M) The Half-Breed’s Wife by Gypsyn / @gypsin: “On the night of the new moon, a runaway girl stumbles into Inuyasha's life. Little did he realize then what he would be undertaking by saving her. But when Kagome has nowhere else to go will he leave her to her fate Or will he rise to the occasion? And what will the humans think?” (M) Hit The Like Button by omgitscharlie / @omgitscharlie: “After a public breakup, successful social media influencer Kagome Higurashi is single for the first time since she started her career. Trying to cheer her friend up, Sango hosts a party in hopes of getting Kagome out of her stooper; unbeknownst to her, there was a certain person Sango wants her to meet. Unfortunately, the set up does not go as hoped as the two know each other from previous, unsavory interactions.” (M) Youkai In The Mirror by SugarRos / @sugarrosfanfiction: “Kagome Higurashi is lucky. She has good grades, good friends, and the cute, popular boy in class just asked her out. But when she accidentally unleashes a very wicked youkai from a very wicked spell, her luck runs out. Now on the run from a powerful priestess, Kagome must help Inuyasha get his revenge.” (M) Demon Nature by Shardetector / @shardetector: “He spoke low and gently, although his voice was gruff with his demon still so close to the surface, ‘You saved me wench, now I’ll repay the favor.’ With that, his muscles bunched in his legs as he sprung up and out of the well, a red blur in the night as he made his way through the forest to his destination. His precious cargo held safely to his chest, as he raced to save her with his demonic speed.”

(M) A Crack in the Glass by willowandfog / @willowandfog: “Kagome’s being watched, followed, but has no idea who it is or why they are doing it. When Kagome hires the help of a private investigator things take a dangerous turn. Uncovering secrets that Kagome didn't even know she had.” (M) The Shogun’s Daughter by Shnuggletea / @shnuggletea: “Kagome’s father passed away when she was just a child but his Shogun status still makes her a valuable bride to a Lord of lands that border their village. She isn’t given much choice but still agrees to marry the stranger so those she cares and loves would be happy and safe, taking her village under his protection in return for her hand. Lord Inuyasha Tenoe is pushed by the council into marriage, assured his new bride was an excellent choice. He has his doubts but has no choice, agreeing to the match sight unseen. All their fears and anxiety are amplified when they meet. It’s an interesting coupling to say the least.”

Multi-Chapter Complete:

(M) The Kings Concubines by The ReddQueen: “The Concubines of the House of the Moon are the most beautiful & idolized women across the Western Land. A chance arises as they search for another to take such a prestigious position. One will find that a true concubine is more than beauty, but she must overcome the most painful of hurdles, keep the darkest of secrets, & still stay true to her heart.”

(M) Thousandfurs by RosieB: “Based on the little known Grimm fairytale. Princess Kagome is forced from her home and into the demon territories. Will Prince Inuyasha ever figure out who his new servant is?” (M) Base Instincts by ImaniJoain: “When Inuyasha is lost to his youkai half, Kagome must find a way to convince him to return to himself.”

(M) To Summon a Mate by Penthesileia / @pentheseileia: “On Halloween night, Kagome is tricked into releasing a possessive, dangerous, hotter then hell demon from his prison of 500 years. She's in danger, but it's not her life she's worried about…yet.”

Oneshots

(M) Lesson by akitokihojo / @akitokihojo: “After a long night out, tensions begin to build. Kagome gets herself into a little trouble with Inuyasha, and Inuyasha is more than happy to teach her right from wrong.”

(M) Dominance by omgitscharlie / @omgitscharlie: “She'd been teasing him all day, and she knew it. Those fleeting glances and knowing smiles, it drove Inuyasha insane; not to mention she smelled sweeter, more intense. What happens when Kagome pushes Inuyasha beyond his limits?”

(M) It Will Come Back by wonderwanderer / @thornedraven: “A one shot inspired by Hozier's song "It Will Come Back". Slight Little Red Riding Hood inspiration as well. Darker themed Little Red Riding Hood, and much more adult themed.”

(M) Touch by KeiChanz / @keichanz: “’I want…’ He paused, trying to find the words, and growling in frustration when he couldn’t. A grunt left him and he dropped his forehead onto her shoulder. ‘I just…I…dammit.’ Inuyasha sighed raggedly, nuzzled her shoulder, and then husked against her skin, ‘I want…you.’”

(M) After the Well Closes by Shnuggletea / @shnuggletea: “It's been a year since Kagome made the decision to jump back through the well and leave her family and life behind. And she is confused to say the least that things are almost the same. Tired of being Inuyasha's demon-killing partner and nothing more, Kagome decides to start her new life and family. When she is stopped by a manic demon Inuyasha, her new life beings quickly.”

(M) Mine by jaygirl987: “She was so beautiful and pure. And his.”

(M) Diamonds and Moonglow by annabeth: “That whimper, right there, is what Inuyasha loves most about this.“

(M) Together Again by wonderwanderer / @thornedraven: “Some intimacy between InuYasha and Kagome after being reunited after three years, rediscovering each other in some of the more intimate ways one can.”

#inuyasha fanfiction #inuyasha x kagome #inukag fanfic #inukag fanfiction #kagome higurashi #inukag #yashahime #inuyasha

[mostlycompetentwriter]

You Can STAY- Part Two

F/M Main Pairing: Y/N x Lee Felix (side pairing: Y/N x Stray Kids)

Genre: Fantasy AU; Scarlet Heart AU; OT8 SKZ

Word Count: 3K

Warnings: language

Summary: Y/N has settled into her position as the Castle’s royal mage. She’s also getting to know the King’s sons, even if that means dealing with Seungmin’s challenging comments and Felix’s brooding nature.

Tag List:  @angelphantomlove @moonlightracha @staycarat0801 @jjabbur @pinkchcn @smolchild-lol @straykidbaby @moonnstars90 @choisaemi @dru-shadow @skzooyeet

A/N: I’ve completely revamped this series. If you look at the masterlist, there are now only 12 parts instead of 20. For a while, I had writer’s block on this series, but I realized that it was because I was super intimidated by my own outline. I think I’ve figured out how to make it more manageable! Hopefully, this means updates once or twice a month (this will also be the shortest part).

Part Two The fresh herbs sold at the Clè Kingdom’s marketplace were incredibly valuable. They were also of the utmost quality, and I had been spending most of the day occupied by choosing the best selection for my private stores at the castle. But I could easily spend most of my time here, surrounded by the things that I loved to create, and my mind was thinking about all of the combination possibilities.

“How about this one, miss?” a vendor asked, holding up a fresh batch of chamomile for my inspection.

“I’ll take it,” I said, offering her payment in exchange for the chamomile. The smell was delicious, and I inhaled deeply before proceeding on my path through the surrounding patrons.

It was a beautiful day; the kind of day that managed to maintain my cheerful smile. The air was warm and welcoming, and I was beginning to think that I was feeling truly happy despite my isolated existence ever since I had first arrived at the castle.

However, up ahead in the distance, I wavered at a booth selling tulips when a passing group of village girls let out obnoxious giggles. “Did you see the fourth prince? He was so handsome!”

“I can’t believe they’re traveling so far away from the Castle!”

“Look! There they are!”

I followed their gazes, frowning at the sight of the King’s youngest sons walking in our direction. I attempted to ignore them, turning my attention to another vendor, but I startled when I felt a tap on my shoulder. The contact was unexpected, and I spun around in surprise to see four of the King’s sons standing in the middle of the market. “Oh!” I said, adjusting my hold on the basket. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

They were all polite smiles, and I recognized them as Jisung, Hyunjin, Seungmin, and Jeongin from our previous introductions during the choosing ceremony. “We haven’t had a chance to be properly acquainted,” Jisung said, bowing low at the waist before standing taller. “We thought you could join us while we visited the town.”

“I don’t know...” I hesitated, wondering what the appropriate response should be considering my status and the eyes of the village watching us with obvious interest.

“It’s alright if you’re concerned,” Hyunjin said with a pleasant smile. “But I always like to have an audience when I play my music.”

“Music?” I questioned, noticing, for the first time, the simple guitar wrapped around Hyunjin’s shoulders.

“I’ve been playing since I was young,” Hyunjin explained. “Of course, my father doesn’t appreciate my music, but I always come to the village to play for whoever wants to listen.”

“He’s pretty good,” Jisung joked, nudging his brother playfully. “It makes for a good use of your time.”

I studied their brotherly banter for a moment before nodding. “I would love to listen.”

“Then what are we waiting for?” Jisung declared, reaching out to tuck my arm against his. “Let’s go before we lose more daylight!”

My face warmed at the unexpected contact between myself and Jisung, but I chose not to say anything as I allowed the brothers to escort me through the village. From behind us, Seungmin and Jeongin had yet to speak a single word, but I chose to ignore their cold auras. Because Seungmin had already proven himself to be less than desirable.

However, it was easy to disregard Seungmin’s dismissive attitude when I finally heard Hyunjin play for the very first time. It was nothing short of magical, and I should know that better than anyone. In fact, the soft melody of his guitar complimented his raspy vocals, singing an unfamiliar tune that attracted a large crowd of village onlookers who expressed their appreciation for his efforts.

Jisung was the first to start clapping when Hyunjin finished his song, and the other villagers joined along. “Bravo, brother,” Jisung said, clapping Hyunjin on the shoulder. “Another masterpiece.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Seungmin muttered. “Can’t we do something else?”

Hyunjin scoffed while Jisung simply chuckled. “Of course! I know we came out here to have fun.”

I glared in Seungmin’s direction, wondering if he was this rude to everyone, before I reached down to grab my basket. “I suppose I should return to my shopping-”

“Hey, mage,” Seungmin interrupted, shoving aside his brothers when he pushed his way to the front. I tried not to roll my eyes at the younger prince, especially considering the way that he held his head high like he was excessively proud of his interruption. He reached into my basket to study one of the fresh apples. “You think you’re too good for us?”

I frowned. “I never insinuated such things.” Seungmin flinched when I held out my hand to summon the apple back from him with a simple command. “And I don’t think you want to challenge me,” I added before taking a bite of the delicious fruit.

Jisung raised a brow, clearly impressed. “My brother would appreciate a challenge! We’re planning to practice archery in the forest.”

Seungmin pouted as he eyed the apple in my hand. “She doesn’t look like she could handle it.”

“What makes you say that?” I asked him. “My father taught me archery when I was younger, and I was the best in our village.”

The comment was intended to act as a challenged, and as I expected, Seungmin didn’t take well to my tone, rolling back his shoulders as he glared at me. “I challenge you to an archery competition,” Seungmin said. “No magic.”

“Okay,” I said with a grin. “But I hope you can accept the results.”

“As long as you’re willing to play fair,” Seungmin huffed, tossing his robes behind him as he started in the direction of the Castle with Jeongin faithfully by his side.

Meanwhile, Jisung looked at me with a wicked smile. “I hope you kick my brother’s ass.”

Hyunjin snickered, tossing an arm around Jisung’s shoulders as they led the way to the royal archery courts.

Seungmin watched me from afar as I busied myself with scanning the available offerings of archery bows that had been delivered by the Castle servants. As someone who considered herself to be of smaller stature, I needed something light-weight and flexible. Thankfully, Hyunjin was more than willing to assist me, and we tried out a variety of bows before settling on an offering that felt like it had been born to serve me.

“Whenever you’re ready,” I said lazily, enjoying the look of frustration written across Seungmin’s countenance at my nonchalant attitude.

He stepped forward with determination, raising his bow and notching the first arrow before he focused all of his attention on the target board waiting in the low coverage of the trees. I held my breath, admiring his perfect form and the light bead of sweat dotting his brow from his intense concentration. Eventually, he pulled back and released the arrow, and we all watched as it soared through the air in a perfect arch before landing close to the middle. 

There was a smattering of applause from his siblings, and Seungmin turned around and bowed before smirking. “Try and beat that, mage,” he said, cocking one brow in derision while he joined Jeongin on the sidelines.

I sighed at his tone, taking my position and adjusting my posture. It took me longer to prepare my bow and arrow, but I had not touched the weapon in many years. Still, it was annoying to hear Seungmin snickering at my obvious lack of experience, and I swallowed hard as I tried to remember my lessons. I rolled my eyes as I notched my arrow, holding the bow between my hands as I focused on the target. I released a shaky exhale as I held up my bow and sent the first arrow flying through the air.

With a dull CLINK! it made contact with the very center of the target, and Jisung started laughing and dancing around the field like he was thoroughly entertained by my success. Even Hyunjin planted a hand over his mouth to stiffle his obvious amusement. But Seungmin was positively enraged.

“You’re cheating!” Seungmin exclaimed. “She’s using magic.”

“I told you to accept the results,” I said. “It seems that you can’t admit defeat.”

“Do you expect me to believe that a common mage managed to hit the middle of the target on your first attempt!” Seungmin growled. 

“I didn’t use magic,” I retorted sharply, shoving the bow at Jisung. “That is all I have to say on the subject. So, if you’ll excuse me, I have other matters to attend to that won’t leave me on the receiving end of a ridiculous prince’s ridicule!”

“How dare you!” Seungmin shouted to my retreating figure, but I payed him no attention as I picked up my basket from the forest floor. He was nothing but a pest who wasn’t used to the common folk challenging his authority. Seungmin was a silly child, and I should’ve anticipated that he wouldn’t let me simply walk away. Still, the impact was jarring, and I fell to the ground with Seungmin on top, fighting for control over my attacking hands which I refused to allow him. In the meantime, his brothers stood off to the side, laughing at our skirmish.

“Seungmin, this is embarrassing,” Jisung said.

“Father would be so disappointed,” Hyunjin added, and neither brother made any attempt to stop our foolish fight. But no matter how many times I tried to throw off Seungmin’s lanky form, he kept up the assault, trying to pin my hands next to my head.

“You’re immature,” I spat at him.

“Well, you’re a cheater!” Seungmin retorted, squealing when I raked my nails down his arms.

“HEY!”

The two of us immediately froze at the sound of a strikingly familiar command, and I glanced over Seungmin’s shoulder and frowned at the approaching figure. “What’s going on here?” Felix demanded, and I shivered at his deep voice.

“N-Nothing,” Seungmin stuttered, and I was fascinated by his abrupt change in demeanor. He rolled off to the side, struggling to stand on his own two feet, while I propped myself up into a sitting position. 

Felix glanced between us with narrowed green eyes, and his hair looked like it was practically on fire underneath the influence of the sun. Finally, his gaze settled on me. “Did my father bring you here to play around all day, mage?”

I bristled at his words. “You misunderstand, your majesty.”

There was venom behind my tone, but Felix didn’t appear any less intimidated. “You’re going to be trouble for us, aren’t you?”

I shook my head, returning to a standing position as I confronted the Prince. “Your brother was the one who requested my presence. I won’t have these unnecessary slights against my character.”

“Is that so?” Felix asked, and there was a slight upturn to his upper lip that relaxed some of his earlier tension. “I think you’re awfully proud of yourself, mage, considering that you’re in a position of servitude.”

“One that I agreed to, your highness,” I remarked. “This position is desired amongst my people, and I was able to secure it for myself. Do you really think that after all my hard work, I’d willingly sabotage that which I have earned?”

“I suppose not,” Felix allowed, lowering his gaze. “Forgive me.”

“Perhaps when such forgiveness is justified,” I said, and before Felix could offer another sharp retort, the arrival of a new presence seemed to relinquish the authority to de-escalate the situation even further.

“This is a surprising meeting,” Prince Chan declared upon his entrance, and his smile was wide when he continued in our direction. “Is there a problem?”

“Not anymore,” Felix said, and he had the audacity to smile at me like we were suddenly friends despite his earlier words.

“My apologies, your highness,” I said, offering Felix’s apology to Chan, and I was pleased to see Felix’s smile disappear. “I was invited here by your brothers.”

“All of them?” Chan asked, stopping next to us as he gave Felix a meaningful look. “Father told you to stay inside the castle, did he not?”

Felix sneered, giving me one last lingering look before promptly walking off in the direction of the Castle’s main entrance. In the meantime, Chan looked around at his younger brothers. “I think we’re done here.”

Jisung and Hyunjin bowed in compliance while Seungmin rejoined Jeongin with a huff, crossing his arms over his chest in a petulant manner. “As you wish,” I said, nodding politely before reaching down for my basket.

“Walk with me,” Chan requested, reaching out for my wandering hand, and I was more than happy to oblige.

Chan was quiet during our walk back to the Castle. But conversation didn’t seem necessary, especially when his entire persona evoked a sense of calming. It was peaceful between us, and I continued to sneak glances at his handsome profile, wondering about the person beyond the golden-blonde hair and angelic blue eyes.

“You’re curious,” Chan remarked, pausing outside of the castle’s doors. “It only seem natural considering your circumstances.”

“I suppose,” I said, connecting my hands behind my back. “But it really isn’t any of my business.”

“On the contrary,” Chan said, opening the door for me like some kind of otherworldly gentleman. “I think you should ask questions about the people you wish to serve.”

I nodded my head, but didn’t say anything else as I followed him inside. I wasn’t certain of Chan’s intentions, but he seemed to be taking me somewhere, and I was polite enough to respect him. Of all the brothers I had met so far, with the exception of Felix, Chan intrigued me the most. But at least my curiosity for Chan was genuine while my study of Felix was rooted in suspicion for the young Prince who clearly did not belong here.

“My quarters,” Chan said, pausing outside of a room at the end of the hallway. “I hope you don’t mind, but my wife has asked to meet you.”

I blinked in surprise. “Oh, of course not, your highness.”

Chan smiled, encouraging me to enter the sparsely furnished room where I noticed a beautiful young woman waiting for me on the impressive bed that sat beneath an overhanging window. “Hello,” the woman greeted me politely.

I bowed once, looking back at Chan who observed the two of us without a hint of emotion. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” I said, hesitating only briefly before I walked further inside the room. I swallowed hard when I noticed the raised bumps decorating the skin of her arms.

“The castle’s new mage,” she said. “I’m glad that you could make time for me.”

“Yes,” I agreed. “I cannot lie and say that I wasn’t curious when I first learned of your identity.”

“Well, your handmaidens likely only told you about the poor woman who is dying,” she said, and I could see Chan wince from the corner of my eye. “My name is Ella, and I promise that I’m more than that.”

“Oh,” I said, struggling for the right words. “I hope that you don’t think that I’ve thought less of you.”

“Of course not,” Ella said. “However, I know what most of the people here think about me.”

Chan cleared his throat, and he appeared uncomfortable with the conversation. “Darling, I think we can try to visit the gardens tonight, if you’d like.”

Ella nodded, and her eyes glimmered with the promise of such a seemingly innocuous occasion. “I would love that,” she said, before looking back at me. “Chan tells me that you’ve already left a strong impression on his siblings and the King. I hear that you’re the strongest magic user to ever serve the Castle.”

“Well, I’ll certainly have to prove myself worthy of such a title,” I said. “I’ve been practicing magic since before I can even remember.”

“What a beautiful gift,” Ella remarked. “I’m sure you’ve done a lot of good with your abilities.”

“Yes.” I nodded. “I love to help the people in this kingdom.”

“I’m sure you’re also adept at healing,” she continued. “Wouldn't you say?”

I widened my eyes in surprise when I caught the implicit meaning behind her comment. “I have a talent for it,” I said, keeping my remarks vague because I never expected to hear this fragile young woman, during our very first meeting, request that I restore her health.

“Interesting,” she said, giving me a knowing look that I chose to store away until I could process the implications. “I know you have other responsibilities,” Ella said. “Thank you for seeing me.”

I bowed again to demonstrate my respect before I followed Chan back out into the hallway. “I’m sorry,” Chan said, refusing to look at me. “I know it was shameful of her to ask for your help.”

“It caught me off-guard,” I said. “But I don’t like to see anyone suffering. What sort of disease does she have?”

“It’s a very rare disease,” Chan explained to me, and there was a stunning amount of emotion behind his tone. “I don’t know much about it, but I know that they cannot cure her.”

“I see.”

“Y/N.” Chan sighed, and there was a raw vulnerability in his gorgeous blue eyes that exposed his desperation. “Ella hasn’t been herself since her diagnosis. I can barely recognize the woman that I married.”

“Your highness,” I said. “If you allow me, then I’d like to do my best to help Ella. In the best way that I can.”

“Really?” Chan asked, and his eyes glistened at their corners. “I would be forever in your debt.”

“The King’s sons owe me nothing,” I said. “I have no right to ask of anything in return for my services.”

“But?” Chan questioned.

I took a deep breath, searching the perimeter to ensure that we were truly alone before I leaned in closer. “Tell me everything you know about Prince Felix.”

#stray kids #stray kids fanfic #skz #skz fanfic #stray kids fantasy au #skz fantasy au #you can stay #y/n x lee felix #lee felix fanfic #felix fanfic #stray kids fluff #stray kids angst #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios

[alicepink-me]

The New Guardian

Story Summary: Marinette Dupain-Cheng is an adult in the real world, guarding the Miracle Box in Master Fu's place. She's in love with Chat Noir, but refuses to tell him her feelings. New holders appear to fight the duo and shake up their lives. Marinette makes a tough decision about her future as Ladybug.

Chapter 12: The Council

2 Weeks Later:

Marinette laid in her bed, reading her kwami book. She bought it two weekends ago and had almost finished it. She could've been through it by now if her physical classes weren't so tiring. April hasn't worn her locket yet, so Marinette assumed she hadn't locked a compulsion inside of it yet, or maybe she wouldn't. Marinette didn't want to ask, so she wouldn't mention it.

There was an urgent knock at the door. Marinette and April looked at each other. They weren't expecting anyone and it was early on a Sunday.

April shrugged. "Maybe it's Rebekah."

Marinette hopped out of her covers and walked to the door. She flung it open to find a letter on the ground with no one around. Marinette picked it up and turned back to April. "A little ominous, don't you think?" Marinette ripped it open and pulled out the letter, rapidly scanning it. "It's a . . . summoning."

"Summoning?" April closed her book.

"Like a spontaneous, urgent meeting." Marinette corrected. "The council wants to see me and . . . " She flipped over the page. "It doesn't say why. There's only a time and location."

"Sounds like a trap." April chuckled. "They might be planning to kill you."

"Or maybe they think I'm overqualified to be in a class of preteens for history and want to change my schedule." Marinette suggested, moving to her closet. Jenn jumped at her feet, brushing against her leg. "I'm trying to stay positive here considering there is a fair chance the council hates my guts because of my guardian and my past. There's probably plenty of people that want me dead, but let's not think about that right now."

"Just avoid people like I do." April suggested. "The temple isn't bad if your avoid all humanity and drama." She pointed at her. "Send a bat signal."

"I'm supposed to prove myself to this terrifying council of elders. I cannot avoid them." Marinette sighed. "They could kill me. I need on their good side until later, so only positive thoughts."

"You mean panicked thoughts?"

. . .

Marinette walked down a creepy corridor that looked ancient. She held the letter from earlier in her hand as she searched for the right door. This sector of the temple was never repaired or updated at all. There was some loose rubble on the ground and the only light came from candles on the walls. Pieces of the structures were dilapidated and faded. This place was probably haunted and Marinette was probably about to die.

Marinette looked down at the paper again. Room 3 of Sector 1. Marinette could see a few doors up ahead as well as a stature. As she got closer she focused on it. She didn't recognize who the sculpture was, but it had a few chunks gone along with its nose missing. Marinette reached the first few doors.

"Four." Marinette read. She walked across to the other, smearing the dirt off as she tried to read the number. "Three." She said.

Marinette sighed and took in her surroundings. She still didn't know what the council wanted with her and she was insanely nervous, but running from this wasn't an option. Marinette steadily raised her fist to the wood before anxiously knocking. The door immediately opened before she could hit it a third time.

"Marinette, welcome." A man said, stepping aside. "Please come in."

Marinette lowered her hand and gave a shy smile before moving inside. There was a large oval table filled on one side with several elders wearing red and black laced robes. They all had stern faces and their hands laid folded in front of them. Marinette hooked her purse on the corner of a chair across from them and awkwardly sat down.

"Thank you for meeting with us, Ms. Dupain-Cheng." A woman said. "We realize our notification was a bit vague, but due to privacy reasons, we prefer to keep any information regarding the meetings in this room."

"I understand." She nodded. "So why was I summoned here?" Marinette asked, fidgeting her hands. "I hope all is well."

"We just wished to check up on you." Another said. She recognized him as the man Mint had called Master Mantis. "You are fairly new to all of this and you are uniquely special compared to our other pupils. Checking in is very important to us."

"Well the temple is amazing." Marinette spoke, her voice slightly shaking. "I enjoyed it a lot more than I thought I would and . . . my classes are very informative, although the teachings are a little biased."

One woman frowned, her nostrils flaring and eyes widening. "Biased? How so?"

"The lessons are taught by people who were at the temple when it disappeared a long time ago. Everything they mention is important and informative, but extremely one-sided." Marinette said. The crowd tensed. "Everything I had learned from my master was from his viewpoint, but I was glad to hear each side when I came here. It helped me understand the entire situation."

"Interesting." The woman replied.

"What about your guardianship training?" A man asked, clearing his throat, trying to ease the tension.

"Definitely . . . different." Marinette answered.

"I'm sure Fu taught you all the easy ways out." Another woman muttered, turning to the woman next to her.

"Actually his training was quite difficult." Marinette replied. "Master Fu said connecting with the kwamis and the Miracle Box itself was key to being a guardian. I spent months meditating and connecting my energy with theirs. Unlike the previous training here, I was allowed basic necessities like food and I was taught how to have a normal life. Even if the kwamis are a main priority, I'm supposed to keep them under the radar and the best way to do that is to keep a normal lifestyle."

"So you did cheat our traditions?" The first woman growled. The man to her right grabbed her arm and stopped her.

"I trained diligently." Marinette defended herself. "Master Fu was the best teacher I ever had and even though my classes here are great, I still believe that. My guardianship classes have strengthened my knowledge about the job and have made me a better holder. I will admit that, but Master Fu's training was still valuable. I-"

"I think that's enough for today." The second woman said, cutting her off.

"Thank you for with meeting us, Marinette." One of the men stood up and held out his hand. "We look forward to future discussions."

Marinette stood and shook his hand. "I do as well."

Marinette awkwardly turned and left the room as most of them glared. Luckily that situation was done and over with. That was too much anxiety and awkwardness for today. Every elder in that room practically despised her. No matter how hard they tried to hide it, their anger practically bled through their words.

Marinette felt for her phone, but noticed her purse missing. She must have left it in the conference room. Marinette turned around and walked back to the door, but stopped when she heard talking. The conversation sounded a lot more outspoken and louder than it was a minute ago.

"Can you believe all that nonsense praise she had about Wang Fu?" One woman asked, pouring a drink. "That brat has no right to sputter such things."

"Fu completely corrupted that girl's mind." A man scoffed, shaking his head.

"Marinette hasn't been here very long to acclimate to our ways, so it's no surprise." Mantis said. "It'll take time for her mind to understand our ways before she physically shows evidence of our teachings."

"Luckily we won't have to wait for that nightmare to happen." The other woman laughed, opening another bottle. "That girl was never one of us to begin with. She shouldn't have been given this opportunity to prove herself in the first place. It won't fix her."

"Oh please!" The first woman argued, laughing. "She wasn't even given a chance to begin with. She never was. That wasn't part of our plan and when we follow through with the rest of it, that'll show true."

"Marinette could've been great if Fu hadn't stepped in when he did." Master Mantis said, taking a drink.

"I don't know where this soft spot of yours came from, Mantis, but you need to cut it out." The first woman growled. "Once the trial is over . . . hopefully we'll never see that dreadful creature again."

"She must be charged for her heinous crimes, Mantis." A man said. "And I'd advise you not to communicate with her again till we're met in a court room." Mantis nodded.

"Why are we waiting to begin with?" The second woman crossed her arms. "She should be imprisoned immediately."

One man swirled his drink in his glass. "Maybe we should move the date up."

Marinette gasped, slowly stepping away from the door. She needed to get out of here. This entire temple and her training was all a big lie. She'd have to leave or else she'd be unfairly tried for crimes she couldn't stop. Marinette's heart sped up and she took off, sprinting down the long hallways through the temple. She needed to pack what she could and bolt.

What would Chat Noir think? No! She couldn't worry about him or at least she shouldn't. If she has to flea, the only place she can go at the moment is her old apartment, but that's in Paris. Marinette will see him again and the idea of it made her heart hurt. Every possible scenario of running into him flashed in her mind. What if it ended horribly? Oh who was she kidding, wasn't her luck bad enough already? She could handle nearly breaking her nose during class, but facing the man she's loved for years, well that's a death sentence.

Marinette reached the dorm areas of the building. She turned down her sector and continued sprinting. Her room was over two hundred doors away. Even if the council wasn't chasing her, she felt like her clock was ticking too fast. She needed in her dorm now, but it seemed to get further away.

. . .

Marinette burst through her door, panting as she scanned the room. Her breath hitched. Chat Noir sat relaxed along the windows, twirling his belt tail. His eyes were shut and relaxed, unlike herself. No April in sight.

"I was wondering when we'd see each other again, M'Lady." He smiled. "I surely hope that letter wasn't a goodbye." Chat's eyes opened as he turned to her, jumping at the sight. He gulped and his body froze. "M-Marinette . . . " He breathed, gaping.

"Chat Noir . . . " Marinette shut the door behind her without breaking eye contact. "You're here."

"I am." He replied, speechless.

Marinette's heart pounded. "Wh-"

"You're Ladybug." Chat said, taking a step forward. "I didn't know it was you when I got here." He explained. "Your room was under the name Ladybug, so I found it and I snuck in to see you, but I guess I know your identity now. Unless you're a miraculous holder at this temple too and I have the wrong room." He put his fist under his chin and looked up in thought. "We haven't really seen each other since graduation a few years ago, Marinette, so I suppose you could have been attending this school the whole time without my knowledge. Maybe I am in the wrong room."

"No, you . . . had it right." Marinette smiled and moved forward, beaming up at his emerald eyes. "I am Ladybug."

Chat's hand dropped to his side, his eyes widening. "You really are?"

"Of course. How could you be so blind?" Marinette grabbed his hand and held it. "I've been waiting here for you this whole time." She sprung forward and wrapped her arms around his waist, squeezing him tight.

"Really?" Chat hugged her back, happier than he's been in awhile. "I beat myself up over you leaving this whole time that I never thought you wanted me to come find you. I thought I was only intruding."

"Then why did you?" Marinette asked. "Why did you . . . find me?"

"You know me . . . always jumping into situations." He sighed. "I was thinking with my heart. I needed to speak to you even if it meant I'd lose you. Even if I had to chase you all the way to Tibet."

"Of course I know you." Marinette stared up at him. He was so handsome. His eyes sparkled when he looked at her. "I'm so happy you found me." Marinette slowly moved on her tippy toes, leaning her head closer to his, their lips inches apart. "I don't know what I would've done if you hadn't." She beamed, closing her eyes.

Chat Noir released a breath of laughter. Marinette blinked her eyes open as Chat pressed a finger to her lips. "I'm sorry, I'm saving that for the real Ladybug." He announced.

"That too bad. You were really good looking." Marinette's demeanor changed as she fell back on her heels and crossed her arms. She smiled. "How did you know I wasn't her? I thought I was convincing."

#miraculous ladybug #MIRACULOUS: TALES OF LADYBUG AND CHAT NOIR #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #miraculous #fanfiction #emotions #ladybug #chat noir #ladynoir #alice pink #alicepink-me #the new guardian

[mysneakpeekblog-blog]

With the existence of heroes’ portrayals and history drama in the Philippine Cinema, the 2015 biopic film ‘Heneral Luna’ offers another perspective for the Filipino film industry. The film tries to capture the eyes of the youth by picking it as its target market; and as a matter of fact, in cinemas nationwide there is an available discount for students. Fortunately, I am one of those students who were able to watch it on big screen. Undoubtingly, this film has so many to offer and I am truly moved by the film. It is indeed a game changer to the world of our cinema and allow me to tell you how and what I thought about the film.

           The film is a detailed account of the life of one of our revolutionary heroes during the American period namely Gen. Antonio Luna. It tells a story which is a part of our history we care less, something that we don’t usually learn at school. The film opens by claiming that it is fiction based on facts which I think is one way of pulling more modern viewers. It is framed around a series of interviews granted by Luna to Joven Hernando played by Arron Villaflor, a fictional newspaper journalist. Threaded into the narrative, these lively conversations provide viewers with valuable insights into the general’s personality and assist greatly with the transitions as the viewers keep track of the story’s bulging inventory of characters and events. After 333 years of Spanish colonization, the Philippine archipelago was sold for $20 million to U.S. The dilemma is now to decide how to respond with the Americans arrival under the government leaded by President Emilio Aguinaldo played by Mon Confiado and Prime Minister Apolinario Mabini played by Epy Quizon together with the Gen. Antonio Luna played by John Arcilla, is it to negotiate or fight? Clearly, the film told us that Heneral Luna’s proposition which is to strengthen the military force and fight is different from the majority of the key players of the government who is driven by each personal’s interest who wanted to accept the Americans’ domination without a fight. With this altercations, Luna being portrayed as a fiercely straight-talking patriotic general who had a temper as passionate as his feelings to the country made his own enemies inside the congress. While they are discussing inside the congress, a messenger came with the news that the Americans shot the soldiers scouting Sta. Mesa district and also terrorizing other parts of the country as well. The president then gave his go signal to Gen. Luna to take action. However, more conflict arises between Luna and other major players of the country. First, Captain Pedro Janolino played by Ketchup Eusebio who is dragged outside the hut while sleeping with a naked woman and humiliated in front of his soldiers after refusing Luna’s orders. Under the war, the bureau individuals were all engaged into discussing about reconciling to America which flamed the anger of Luna commanding the arrests of the members of the congress, Felipe Buencamino played by Nonie Buencamino and Gen. Tomas Mascardo played by Lorenz Martinez. President Aguinaldo knew that the members are getting fed up of Luna’s attitude but then let it pass. After the battles with his co-Filipino, we are able to meet Heneral Luna as a leader, with his interactions with his men, a soldier as how he fights under war, a son as his mother Dońa Laureana Luna y Novicio do tell his past, a brother, a lover with his affair in the name of Isabel played by Mylene Dizon and as a man. Then goes the climax, General Luna was summoned by a telegram written under the name of the President asking him to appear in Cabanatuan. He was welcome by mere silence and a few soldiers. At the office he saw Felipe Buencamino who told him that the president left long before he arrived. Heneral Luna was ambushed, fired and stabbed to death. The film ends with the sides stories of other characters making the death of Luna left unanswered.

           Creating a film with this kind of theme is something courageous because it is risky thing to delve the past since Philippine history had always been complicated. Personally, I am not into watching history-themed Filipino films because I feel like there will always be biases and sugarcoating techniques to produce a commercially made film with lots of profit. But Heneral Luna is an exception for me. The film was able to create a not hero type of protagonist but instead send us a message. From the protagonist’s line “Bayan o Sarili! Pumili ka?”, the movie gives us the story that the Filipinos main enemy were not Americans but themselves. It does not romanticize the character of Luna, the film showed that Luna’s rage sometimes is out of his control. As I watch the film, I could feel the anger and disappointment by Heneral Luna which I believe proves its efficiency to deliver its message. Undoubtingly, one could really point out the amazing performance of John Arcilla. The first time I saw the movie poster I am really excited to see how John Arcilla will portray his role because the poster is really intriguing and he really looks like Heneral Luna. He was able to bring to life the fierceness, fearlessness and devotion of Heneral Luna which looks really genuine. Though it was Arcilla who really stand up in the film, the supporting characters also deserved the praise which made the film more convincing. Heneral Luna’s supporting military men including Gen. Jose Alejandrino (Alvin Anson), Col. Francisco Roman (Joem Bascon), Capt. Jose Bernal (Alex Medina) and of Lt. Rusca (Archie Alemania) who deliver their roles commendably. On the opposite side of things, Ketchup Eusebio nails his portrayal of Capt. Pedro Janolino, who played as a young general with full hatred to Luna and one of those who led the killing of Luna. Mon Confiado and Epy Quizon also brings the best as Emilio Aguinaldo and Apolinario Mabini. It is amazing how these known comedians was able to engaged themselves into dramatic roles like that. Lastly, Mylene Dizon, a fictional representation under the name of Isabel, a Red Cross Worker was able to show her skills given the small screening time.

           Heneral Luna is one of the most audacious film I have watched mixed with the perfect vision of its film makers. It is a kind of film that deserves the applause. From the beginning up to the end there is something to be praised and averse. The beginning of the film with those short subtitles written in English gives us a hint that they wanted to enter the film into international field. It also announced that it is fiction based on facts which gives more questions to the viewers. I love how the film unfolds every narration through the effective transitions and flashbacks. The cinematography and direction is also a thumbs up for me. The images had wonderful and innovative effects, colors and angles which is shown on the series of flashbacks especially during Rizal’s execution. I would also like to acknowledge the scriptwriters for creating such remarkable storyline with smooth pacing and rasping and poetic dialogues. It is notable how they consistently put together different layers of events to achieve a much engaging story. One thing to notice as well is how they were able to put into timing the comic and humorous factor of the film which became an integral part of the film as well. Also the beautifully written dialogues with cuss words doesn’t sound so corny as the characters mouthed it. Like the lines “Para kayong mga birhen na naniniwala sa pag-ibig ng isang puta,” “Hindi ako ang asawa mo kung hindi gera.” “Isinusuka ko ang digmaan pero ang kompirmiso magbubulag bulagaan ba tayo sa kalaban?” “Ingles inglesen mo ko sa bayan po punyeta!” and “Mas madali mo pang pagkasunduin ang langit at lupa kesa dalawang Pilipino sa alin mang bagay.” There are just scenes I found a little lame in the film, those were the screen times for American’s conversations because the characters were not the appealing for me. But overall it was still carried out because there were just few scenes. At the end of the film we could hint for a trilogy, there was an extra scene in the middle of the closing credits, suggesting a next film featuring Paulo Avelino as Gen. Gregorio del Pilar which has been showed this year. There was also a brief cameo appearance of Benjamin Alves as a young Manuel L. Quezon, hinting at a possible trilogy. This is a very exciting plan indeed which we all hope will materialize given the success of "Heneral Luna" and only international films like Marvel series only which adds another first time for the film.

           I really admired the film at its finest. More than the things I mentioned above I like about the film, it taught us lessons to ponder. Ultimately, the portrayal of this tragedy has spurred so many emotions and so many questions. It does not only give life to history but it is telling us the present issues we have in our country. Today the Philippines is facing so many problems in our economy, education, politics and still too many to mention. I could say that the problems of the past were never resolved. Are we really independent? Are we really free from colonization? The film taught us that the Filipinos are the enemy of themselves, people driven by personal interest and those who can’t sacrifice for the betterment of his/her nation. Do you think this people don’t exist at the present? Or do you think they are the one leading this slow moving country? Leadership like what we discussed at University and I, comes with many styles and theories and therefore different to each person. In line with Heneral Luna, he’s kind of leadership maybe harsh because of being authoritarian but this is what the country needs during those times. We must always keep in mind that leadership never worked unless there is an exchange of the force of his followers. The main lesson we could adhere in the film is to keep ourselves inform with the issues of the country and do our job as its citizens. The revolution is still happening right now. Our current situation is no different from that what it had experienced during the era of the Philippine-American war and we should do our part like what our heroes did before. Ignorance should not be tolerated and let us do our part as leader or as a follower.

           This kind of film is what Filipinos must and would want to see. Like what I mentioned earlier its target market are the youth and modern viewers. They even use social media as a way of promoting this film. However, as I watched the film this is a movie for all. I recommend every Filipino to watch the film because it is worth the time and money. If you wanted to watch something that is really substantial and entertaining well this is the movie you are looking for. Or if you are tired of Filipino cliché made film, try changing your genre and explore our unrated films and watch Heneral Luna. In wrapping up, I really liked the film. With a rating over ten, I will give a nine to it and it is truly recommended.  

[man-reading]

The Bibliophile, Drew Marvin Frayne

Publisher: NineStar Press

Genre: Gay Historical Romance

Length: 221 Pages

Reviewer: Kazza K

Purchase At: amazon.com, NineStar Press

Blurb:

Nathanial Goldsmith is the only son of the richest man in the Idaho territory, Jessum Goldsmith, the Silver Baron of the Western Lands, as he is called in all the newspapers. But life in the late nineteenth-century American West weaves no magic spell for Nathanial, who longs for the academic worlds his father has forced him to leave behind.

To toughen him up, Nathanial’s father has indentured him to a ranchman, Cayuse Jem, a large, raw-boned, taciturn man Nathanial’s father believes will help teach his son to “become a man.” Cut off from his books and the life he has always known, Nathanial is not only forced to co-exist with Cayuse Jem but to truly get to know him. In doing so, Nathanial discovers there is more to this silent horseman than meets the eye. And, in the process, Nathanial also learns a few things about life, about human nature, and about the differences in being a man and a boy…

Review:

I do not know what kind of man I am, or what kind of man I shall become. I do know, however, what kind of man I admire.

Nathaniel Goldsmith has kept a journal off and on during his youth, mostly when he experiences tedium or is concerned by difficult events that are out of his control, ones generally involving his father. He is the only son of Jessum Goldsmith, a wealthy man who has been dubbed the Silver Baron of the Western Lands by the press. Nathaniel has happily been away in Boston while studying for the past four years. However, his father believes in a man working with his hands and using his wiles, being a man’s man, definitely not having their head in books, or their heart in libraries and humanities. Idaho is to become a state soon enough and he has his eyes on politics for himself, for his son, and the best way to do that is for his heir to know the land and help out in the family business. It’s to this end he calls Nathaniel back home to the Idaho Territory from university, effectively ending his son’s dreams of teaching, libraries, of academia.

Nathaniel is resigned to his fate but exceedingly disappointed his father has summoned him home from somewhere he felt he fitted in, so easily able to access the books that are his great love and passion. He knows everything has irrevocably changed for him now that he is eighteen. Although the money itself has never been something that has meant much to Nathaniel, he has known a nice lifestyle, including boarding school and the family’s private salon car. But now, for at least several months, he is to assist a man who works for his father, raising, training, and selling the beautiful and sought after appaloosas, a Scotsman who goes by the name of Cayuse Jem. He lives a rustic life in a small shack on the edge of Goldsmith land. So instead of the mines, it’s with this “slovenly” horse wrangler that Goldsmith senior believes his son will begin the education required to harden him up into the “real man” he expects his son to be.

Nathaniel is less than impressed with Cayuse Jem in the beginning. He cannot fathom what this man can teach him, other than increasing his boredom and contributing to a further decline of his grey matter. Cleaning up horse shit and giving one of them an occasional sugar cube is nothing of note. Milking a cow. Sweeping, fetching water, cleaning. None of it seems viable or valuable. He feels there are no lessons here, only servitude.

Nonetheless, I am counting down the days to when this accursed “lesson” ends.

Although I understood the differences with his father, that he was commanded and not considered, that Cayuse Jem, as a seeming extension of his father, appeared as if he would be his “jailer,” Nathaniel came across as rather supercilious in the beginning.

I may be sent here to work for this man, yet he is naught but a glorified ranch hand, and while I sometimes loathe my name, I am Nathanial Goldsmith, son of Jessum Goldsmith.

But somewhere along the way that changes. I suspect it was when he grew more dialectical in his thinking. When he became aware of other elements that help create a well-rounded individual. All I know is I became emotionally engaged as the writing suddenly became more personal with more character depth. Mostly, the person behind the main voice became someone I cared about instead of an annoyance. I went from struggling to pick the book up to not wanting to put the book down. It came to bed with me at night and travelled about with me during the day so it was easily accessed. I also remember thinking, after my change of heart, that it would have been a complete travesty had I not finished.

This book, this well crafted, intelligent, somewhat stealthy book, gives the reader a snapshot into another era via an eighteen-year boy experiencing life in Idaho, America, predominantly throughout 1888 but forward until 1890. The writing transports you, giving the reader a decent sense of time and place. It also chronicles Nathaniel’s coming of age. Everything Nathaniel experiences he relays back to us via his diarised thoughts and feelings and, soon enough, I couldn’t wait for the next entry.

Nathaniel likes to analogize his current plight to the classics, history, mythology. The story is clearly written by someone who knows and loves these things themselves because it flows seamlessly from a current event to that of someone or something of note from a book or history. Nathaniel names their milking cow Io, and the horse Cayuse Jem gifts him becomes Boadicea as she is strong, beautiful, the leader of her herd – and so on….

I have swept stalls, polished tack, and fetched pail after pail of water—pail after pail!—until my limbs felt ready to flee from my torso for their own sake and sanity. It is fitting, indeed, that my mind keeps wandering to the tale of Heracles and his many woeful labors.

Although the journal entries can be as mundane as mucking out stables, cleaning, sweeping, to the unexpected joy of achieving something new like cooking, as time spent at the cabin passes, there are also events Nathaniel never expected he would write about because there is certainly no ennui in regards to these situations: Illness, friendship, loss, meeting and helping the Nez Perce Indians, his first sexual experience, love, and beyond. Acceptance, and becoming the best person he can possibly be, one he likes and that suits him, is a powerful theme. So is being a complete person, and finding a Heaven in an expected Hell.

That Nathaniel teaches Cayuse Jem to read is something that gives him a great deal of joy and fulfills his need to teach. It helps to build a bridge between the two men that are already developing foundations in other areas, like respect, care, and the solidarity of mutual beliefs. He also learns how to ride a horse properly under Cayuse Jem’s tutelage, and is taught how to swim by his friend Motsqueh. Both of which he never thought he could value as much as reading or studying in a formal setting, yet he does.

It’s interesting to see the change of Cayuse Jem’s importance and relevance in Nathaniel’s eyes. To see it reflected back at him. In comparison to the small Nathaniel, he’s a bear of a man, broad, hirsute, burly. He’s strong and not particularly garrulous, and while economical with his words they are always thoughtful and positive. Cayuse Jem may work for Jessum Goldsmith, raising and training appaloosa’s – originally the Nez Perce’s breed – but that is where any similarity ends. He lives a fairly spartan existence, he’s gentle with his horses, he’s equitable with and toward others. His best friend happens to be from the Nez Perce tribe, Chuslum. Chuslum’s partner is also Nez Perce, a younger man named Motsqueh. Motsqueh and Nathaniel become so close that Nathaniel calls him brother.

The difficulty facing the Nez Perce is given page time. While it isn’t ever heavy-handed observation, it’s hard to read about people being run off the land that was rightfully theirs, about hypocritical ideas of what is ‘civilised.’

There is a definite kink to this book – daddy kink, not as in ‘call me daddy’, but as in a surrogate father figure, some expectations, and a style of domestic discipline. Not that there is any punishment, rather a sir/boy relationship where there are some quite distinct roles and ideas. I don’t remember Cayuse Jem’s age being mentioned but he would have to be in his mid-thirties plus, there’s a fair age gap. I think Cayuse Jem called Nathaniel ‘Nat’ twice in the book, at least that’s Nathaniel’s recollections, the rest of the time it’s ‘boy’. Nathaniel only ever refers to Cayuse Jem as ‘sir’ in any and all dialogue.

He wrapped his large arms around my waist, and I rested my head against him. He took the soap and rubbed my body with it—my chest, my stomach, my own engorged member and loins. “You do understand what is happening, boy, yes?” “Yes, sir,” I sighed. “And how do you feel about it?” (…) “I am most happy, sir,” I said. In response, Cayuse Jem kissed me.

…

Cayuse Jem took my face in his large, brawny hands. “You belong to me now, boy. Body and soul.” “But my father—” “I am your father now,” Cayuse Jem said thickly. “I am your family. And I am your husband. If you will have me.”

Overview:

This is not an easy book to review. I started off struggling for reading traction, but once I found it the book swept me away to another time and place. If you like the sound of the synopsis and my review, the quotes contained within, then check this book out. The Bibliophile opened up some wonderful storytelling to me and I’m very grateful to have had the chance to read it, it was a truly visceral experience – tears included. Nathaniel and Cayuse Jem are still in my thoughts several days after finishing and only the best books leave me feeling as if the characters were real, wondering if they’re still doing okay.

Honestly, I was surprised at just how clever and raw and charming the writing in this book was. I don’t know this author, at least I don’t believe I do, so they’re new to me. Apparently, they write under another name but wanted to write something more romantic and sentimental in nature. I’d say it’s more a love story than a romance, but they’ve succeeded. While the book finishes as a complete book, the ending could leave an opening for more. If so, I’ll be reading it. If not, cheers, guys, I hope you had a long and happy life together.

5 Stars!

#Drew Marvin Frayne #lgbt #romance #historic #books worth reading

[dumbledearme]

chapter four—into the woods

read Child of Land and Sea here

Act I — Storm At Sea

Part IV — Everything's newer, and brighter and bluer, and truer to life than before. Watch me soar.

Andy had never been so blue.

Just when she had started to feel accepted, she was moved (or removed) to cabin three where she was sentenced to be alone. The other campers steered clear of her as much as possible.

The only one who seemed to like Andy more, and dedicated her more of his time, was Luke. He pushed her harder and harder during each of their lessons. And, boy, he wasn't afraid to bruise her up in the process…

"You're going to need all the training you can get," he promised.

Anthony still taught her Greek in the mornings, but he grew more distant everyday. Every time Andy spoke, he would scowl at her like a mad grandpa. Even Clarisse kept her distance, though it was clear she still wanted revenge.

At night, Andy was summoned at the Big House and Chiron, surprisingly, offered her a quest. "Poseidon and Zeus are having their worst quarrel in centuries. They are fighting over something valuable that was stolen. To be precise: a lightning bolt.

Andy laughed, nervously. "A what now?"

"Do not take this lightly," Chiron warned. "I'm talking about a two-foot-long cylinder of high-grade celestial bronze, capped on both ends with god-level explosives. Zeus' master bolt. The symbol of his power, from which all other lightning bolts are patterned. The first weapon made by the Cyclopes for the war against the Titans, the bolt that sheared the top off Mount Etna and hurled Kronos from his throne; the master bolt, which packs enough power to make mortal hydrogen bombs—"

"Okay, I get it," Andy interrupted with a nod. "It's powerful. It's important. It's missing."

"Stolen," Chiron said.

"By whom?"

"By you." Andy's mouth fell open. "At least, that's what Zeus thinks. During the winter solstice, at the last council of the gods, Zeus and Poseidon had an argument. Afterward, Zeus realized his master bolt was missing, taken from the throne room under his very nose. He immediately blamed Poseidon. Now, a god cannot usurp another god's symbol of power directly—that is forbidden by the most ancient of divine laws. But Zeus believes your father convinced a human hero to take it."

"But I didn't—"

"Zeus has good reason to be suspicious. The forges of the Cyclopes are under the ocean, which gives Poseidon some influence over the maker's of his brother's lightning. Zeus believes Poseidon has taken the master bolt, and is now secretly having the Cyclopes build an arsenal of illegal copies. The only thing Zeus wasn't sure of was which hero Poseidon used to steal the bolt. Until he claimed you."

"Okay. First of all, he can't claim me, I'm not a goat!" Andy exclaimed. "And also, I've never been to Mount Olympus... As a matter of fact, I don't even know where that is... Look, I didn't do anything. You know that, right?"

Chiron sighed. "Most thinking observers would agree that thievery is not Poseidon's style. But the Sea God is too proud to try convincing Zeus of that. Zeus has demanded that Poseidon returns the bold by the summer solstice. That's June twenty-first, ten days from now. Poseidon wants an apology for being called a thief by the same date. Neither god will back down. Unless someone intervenes, unless the master bolt is found and returned to Zeus before the solstice, there will be war."

"So I have to find the stupid bolt? And return it to Zeus?"

"What better peace offering," Chiron said, "than to have the daughter of Poseidon return Zeus' property?"

Andy failed to see why she had to do something for Poseidon. It wasn't like he had ever done anything for her... She owed him nothing.

An image came to her. World War II, they had said. Massacre. Slaughter. Millions and millions of people dead because of a similar childish strife. Someone had to do something, right? It wasn't fair that the innocent always had to pay the price.

"Fine," she decided. Weird how it was so easy to agree to this because of people who meant nothing to her and, at the same time, so hard because of the one who meant everything. "But if Poseidon doesn't have it... where is the thing?"

Chiron's expression was grim. "I heard a prophecy years ago... But before I can tell you, you need to take up the quest. Go see the Oracle."

A mummy. That's what it was. A disgusting, ancient mummy that sent chills up Andy's spine. The moment Andy entered the attic, she heard the mystical voice. "I am the spirit of Delphi, speaker of the prophecies of Phoebus Apollo, slayer of the mighty Python. Approach, seeker, and ask."

Andy swallowed hard. "I was just wondering... Where is the bathroom?" The mummy remained resolute. It was now or never. "Fine. Then... what is my destiny?" She heard herself say.

The verdict wasn't the best she'd heard:

"You shall go west, and face the god who has turned. You shall find what was stolen, and see it safely returned. You shall be betrayed by one who calls you a friend. And you shall fail to save what matters most, in the end."

"Cheery," said Andy and went back downstairs after slamming the attic door shut.

Chiron and Grover asked and asked, but Andy refused to share the entire prophecy with them. She only told them the first two verses. The part about failing... well, how could she tell them there was no point to all of this? That she would fail anyway? No, they couldn't know.

Chiron didn't seem convinced and warned her, "The Oracle's words often have double meanings. Don't dwell on them too much."

But if she wasn't supposed to trust the Oracle, why did they need the thing anyway?

Andy changed the topic. "Where do I go? Who's this god in the west?"

"First you need to think," Chiron said. "If Zeus and Poseidon weaken each other in war, who stands to gain?"

She shrugged. "Somebody else who wants to take over?"

"Quite. Someone who harbors a grudge, who has been unhappy with his lot since the world was divided eons ago, whose kingdom would grow powerful with the deaths of millions. Someone who hates his brothers for forcing him into an oath to have no more children, an oath that both of them have now broken."

"Hades."

Chiron nodded. "The Lord of the Dead. You must go to the Underworld, find the master bolt, and reveal the truth."

She shook her head. "Oh I feel used. Why do I have to do this? Why do the gods need to operate through humans? Why can't they talk it out like adults?"

"It is no accident Poseidon has claimed you now. He needs you."

"Yeah? What about the times I needed him?"

Chiron watched her silently. Andy didn't know whether to feel happy, grateful or resentful. She glanced at Grover who was trembling.

"You don't have to go," she told him. "I can't ask that of you."

"You saved my life, Andy," the satyr said. "If you're serious about wanting me along, I won't let you down."

Andy felt so relieved she almost cried. "Alright, then. Now where the hell is the Underworld? Literally."

"Always in the west," Chiron said. "Los Angeles."

"Ha ha." She waited. "Oh. You mean it."

"Two companions may accompany you. Grover is one. The other has already volunteered, if you will accept his help."

"Who?" Andy asked, hoping for Luke. The air shimmered behind Chiron and Anthony became visible. Andy made a face. "Ah."

"I've been waiting a long time for a quest, Seaweed Brain," he said. "Athena's no fan of Poseidon, but if you're going to save the world, I'm the best person to keep you from messing up."

Andy tried to hide her disappointment. "As long as you have a plan, Wonder Boy. I haven't made plans since I went to this stupid costume party dressed as a stuffed olive. I dyed my head and neck red—that was the stuffed pimento bit. I thought it was absolutely hilarious, until I tried to get out of my bedroom. I had to go down the stairs sideways. Then I couldn't fit in my mom's car so I had to walk. And when I got to the party everyone laughed. I did a bit of stuffed olive dancing until I nearly destroyed every ornament and bit of furniture in the place. In the end, I went home early—"

"We get it," Anthony snapped.

"I doubt it. Unless you've been a stuffed olive too...?" and she glanced at him expectantly.

Anthony didn't trouble himself to answer.

Andy didn't have anything to take with her but the backpack Chiron stored for her. Anthony was bringing his magic Yankee cap—which he told Andy had been a twelfth birthday present from his mom—a book on famous classical architecture and a long bronze knife, hidden in his shirt sleeve, that he seemed to carry everywhere. Some people had teddy bears, some had knives…

To Andy's surprise, he also came up with a cool leather jacket that he gave to her saying the weather could change drastically. She was strangely pleased with it. Grover wore his fake feet and his pants to pass as human, and his backpack was filled with scrap metal and apples. He also carried a set of reed pipes his daddy goat had carved for him.

Before they left, Luke came to say goodbye. Andy's cheeks reddened and she blushed even more when she realized Anthony had noticed the change. "Just wanted to say good luck," Luke told her. "And I thought... um, maybe you could use these." He handed Andy a pair of basketball shoes.

"Not exactly my style, but thank you."

He smiled and said, "Maia!" White bird's wings sprouted out of the heels.

"Awesome," said Grover.

"Those served me well when I was on my quest," Luke said. "Gift from Dad."

Andy didn't know what to say and felt extremely uncomfortable with the look Anthony was giving her. "Thank you."

"Listen, beautiful," Luke's tone softened. "A lot of hopes are riding on you. So just... kill some monsters for me, okay?" And he hugged her. Actually hugged her! Like, passed his arms around her and applied pressure.

Luke also hugged Anthony. "I will see you again, brother," he said before leaving.

Andy watched him go. Anthony leaned over her. "You're hyperventilating," he said, but he wasn't making fun of her, he was almost pissed off about it. "And you can't use those," he added taking the shoes away from her. "He meant well, but you shouldn't go in the air." And he handed the sneakers to Grover who put it on almost immediately.

Then Chiron showed up to say goodbye and to Andy's surprised he presented her with his ballpoint pen. "The sword has a long and tragic history," he told her. "It's name is Anaklusmos. Riptide. Celestial bronze, see? It can't harm mortals, only monsters." Chiron also told her that every time she lost the pen/sword it would magically reappear back in her pocket!

Argus drove them to the city. He was the head of security. He supposedly had eyes all over his body so he could never be surprised. Luckily, due to his clothes, Andy couldn't know how much of that was actually true.

"So far so good," she said. "Ten miles and not a single monster."

Anthony gave her an irritated look. "It's bad luck to talk that way, Seaweed Brain."

"Remind me again—why do you hate me so much?"

"I don't hate you."

"Mm. Could've fooled me."

He sighed. "You're annoying. If that's not reason enough for you, then let's just say that we're supposed to be rivals. Athena and Poseidon can't stand each other."

"Whatever, dude," Andy said. She was tired of his judgmental comments and the angry stares.

Argus dropped them at the Greyhound Station and Andy felt homesick, she was so close to her house. She wanted so bad to go there, go through the door and find Sally waiting for her…

"You know," Grover said, "she married him for you."

"What?"

"Your mom. You called him Smelly, but you have no idea... The guy has this aura... He smells so repulsively human he could mask the presence of any demigod. He covered your scent for years. That's why you managed to live for so long outside the camp." He said that as if it was suppose to make Andy feel better. It didn't. If anything, she felt worse thinking of the dozens of things her mom had done for her.

"How did you know I was thinking about her anyway?"

"Oh... Satyrs can read emotions. Guess I forgot to tell you that."

In the city, they got into a bus. They sat in the back for a while when an old lady boarded in. Andy felt the panic stuck in her throat—it was Mrs. Dodds.

Andy scrunched down in her seat. Behind her came two other old ladies. They all looked the same: triplet demon grandmothers. They sat on the front right behind the driver. The two on the aisle crossed their legs over the walkway, making an X.

The bus pulled out of the station.

"She didn't stay dead long," Andy whispered to Anthony. "I thought you said they could be dispelled for a lifetime."

"I said if you're lucky," he argued. "You're obviously not."

"All three of them," whimpered Grover. "Di immortales!"

"It's okay," Anthony said. "The Furies. The three worst monsters from the Underworld. No problem. We'll just... slip out the windows."

"They don't open," Grover moaned.

"A back exit?"

"Hey, they can't attack us with witnesses around, can they?" Andy asked.

"Mortals don't have good eyes," Anthony told her. "Their brains can only process what they see through the Mist."

"The Mist?"

"Yes. It obscures the vision of humans," he explained. "We can see things as they are, but humans will interpret it quite differently."

That moment, Mrs. Dodds got up. She announced, "I need to use the restroom," to the entire bus.

"So do I," said the second sister.

"So do I," said the third one. They all started coming down the aisle.

"There's no restroom in this bus!" Andy shouted feigning a male voice.

The Furies ignored that.

In a quick gesture, Anthony placed his cap on Andy's head and her body vanished. "What are you doing?" she asked.

"It's you they want. Go up the aisle. Let them pass you. Maybe you can get away."

"But you guys—"

"There's an outside chance they might not notice us," he said. "You're a daughter of Poseidon. Your smells might be overpowering."

"I can't just leave you."

"Don't worry about us," Grover urged. "Go!"

Andy's hands trembled. She felt like a coward, but she got to her feet and crept up the aisle. She went ten rows then ducked into an empty seat just as the Furies walked past. Mrs. Dodds stopped, sniffing, and looked straight at Andy. Her heart was pounding, but the monster didn't see anything. She and her sisters kept moving.

Andy made it to the front of the bus then heard hideous wailing from the back. The ladies weren't ladies anymore, they had turned into the winged monsters they truly were. They surrounded Anthony and Grover. "Where is it? Where?"

People on the bus screamed and cowered in their seats. They saw something alright…

"She's not here!" Anthony yelled. "She's gone!" The Furies raised their whips. Anthony drew his bronze knife. Grover grabbed a tin can ready to throw it.

And Andy... well, Andy pulled the wheel from the bus driver and everybody was thrown to the right. While the Furies were trying to stand, Andy had another great idea—she hit the emergency brake.

The bus wailed, spun a full circle and crashed into some trees. The door flew open and people rushed out of there, screaming.

Now there were only them. Andy took off the cap. "Oi, ugly," she called.

The Furies turned, baring their yellow fangs at her. "Andromeda Jackson," said Mrs. Dodds. "You have offended the gods."

"Yeah, but I offend everybody."

"You shall die."

"You know, I liked you better when you were dead." Andy took out Riptide. The Furies hesitated.

"Submit it now," Mrs. Dodds said. "And you will not suffer eternal torment."

"Are you kidding? Eternal torment is all I ever wanted."

Mrs. Dodds lashed her whip around Andy's sword hand. But Andy didn't drop the sword. Instead, she attacked and sliced the Fury on the right. She screamed and exploded into dust. Anthony grabbed Mrs. Dodds in a wrestler's hold and yanked her backward while Grover ripped the whip out of her hands. Andy hit the Fury on the left and she broke open like a piñata. Anthony and Grover managed to tie up Mrs. Dodds with her own whip.

"Zeus will destroy you," she promised. "Hades will have your soul!"

Thunder shook the bus and Anthony pulled Andy out of there. The windows of the bus exploded. The passengers ran for cover.

"Run," Anthony said and Andy didn't need any more encouragement.

They plunged into the woods together.

#andy jackson #andromeda #fanfic #dfcrosas #genderbend #storm at sea #child of land and sea #fem percy jackson #male annabeth chase #andony

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RAY DALIO - PRINCIPLES NOTES - PAGE 1-40

INTRODUCTION

I'm passing along these principles because I am now at the stage in my life which I want to help others be successful rather than to be more successful myself. Because these principles have helped me and others so much, I want to share them with you. It's up to you to decide how valuable they really are and what, if anything you want to do with them.

Principles are fundamental truths that serve as the foundations for behavior that gets you what you want of life. They can be applied again and again in similar situations to help you achieve your goals

Every day, each of us is faced with a blizzard of situations we must respond to. Without principles we would be forced to react to all the things life throws at us individually, as if we were experiencing each of them for the first time. If instead we classify these situations into types and have good principles for dealing with them, we will make better decisions more quickly and have better lives as a result. Having a good set of principles is like having a good collection of recipes for success. All successful people operate by principles that help them be successful, though what they choose to be successful at varies enormously, so their principles vary.

HAVING YOUR OWN PRINCIPLES

We come by our principles in different ways. Sometimes we gain the through our own experiences and reflections. Sometimes we accept them from others, like our parents, or we adopt holistic packages of principles, such as those of religions and legal frameworks.

Because we each have our own goals and our own natures, each of us must choose our own principles to match them. While it isn't neccessarily a bad thing to use others' principles, adopting principles without giving them much thought can expose you to the risk of acting in ways inconsistent with your goals and your nature. At the same time you, like me, probably don't know everything you need to know and would be wise to embrace that fact. If you cant think for yourself while being open-minded in a clearheaded way to find out what is best for you to do, and if you can summon up the courage to do it, you will make the most of your life. If you can't do that , you should reflect on the why that is, because that's most likely your greatest impediment to getting more of what you want out of life.

Thig brings me to my first principles:

Think for your self to decide 1) What you want, 2) What is true, and 3) What you should do to achieve #1 in light of #2 and do that with humility and open-mindedness so that you consider the best thinking avaiable to you. Being clear on your principles is important because they will affect all aspects of your life.

Five steps  1) Audacious Goals

     2) Failure

     3) Learning Principles

     4) Improving

     5) More Audacious Goals

MY PRINCIPLES AND HOW I LEARNED THEM

I believe the key to success lies in knowing how to both strive for a lot and fail well. By failing well, I mean being able to experience painful failures that provide big learnings without failing badly enough to get knocked out of the game.

This way of learning and improving has been best for me because of what I'm like and because of what I do. I've always had a bad memory and didn't like following other people's instructions, but I love figuring out how things work for myself. I hated school because of my bad memory but when I was twelve I fell in love with trading the markets. To make money in the markets, one needs to be an independent thinker who bets against the consensus and is right. That's because the consensus view is baked into the price. One is inevitably going to be painfully wrong a lot, so knowing how to do that well is critical to one's success. To be a successful entrepreneur, the same is true: One also has to be an independent thinker who correctly bets against the consensus, which means being painfully wrong a fair amount. Since I was both an investor and en entrepreneur, I developed a healthy fear of being wrong and figured out an approact to decision making that would maximize my odds of being right.

MAKE BELIEVABILITY-WEIGHTED DECISIONS

My painful mistakes shifted me from having a perspective of “I know I'm right” to having one of “How do I know I'm right?” They gave me the humility I needed to balance my audacity. Knowing that I could be painfully wrong and curiosity about why other smart people saw things differently prompted me to look at things through the eyes of others as well as my own. That allowed me to see many diminsions than if I saw things just through my own eyes. Learning how to weigh people's inputs to that I chose the best ones in other words, that I believability weighted my decision making – increase my chances of being right and was thrilling. At the same time I learned to:

OPERATE BY PRINCIPLES

That are so clearly laid out that their logic an easily be assessed and you and others can see if you walk to talk. Experience taught my how invaluable it is to reflect on and write down my decision-making criteria whenever I made a decision, so I got in the habit of doing that. With time, my collection of principles became like a collection of recipes for decision making. By sharing them with the people at my company, Bridgewater Associates, and inviting them to help me test my principes in action, I continually refined and evolved them. In fact, I was able to refine them to the point that I could see how important it is to systemize your decision making

Time is like a river that carries us foward into encounters with reality that require us to make decisions. We can't stop our movement down this river and we can't avoid those encounters. We can only approach them in the best possible way

When we are children, other people, typically our parents guide us through our encounters with reality. As we get older, we begind to make our own choices. We choose what we are going after (our goals), and that influences our paths. If you want to be a doctor, you go to medical school, if you want to have a family, you find a mate and so on. As we move toward these goals we encounter problems, make mistakes, and run up against our own personal weaknesses. We learn about ourselves and about reality and make new decisions. Over the course of our lives we make millions and millions of decisions that are essentially bets, somee large and some small. It pays to think about how we make them because they are what ultimately determine the quality of our lives.

We are all born with different thinking abilities but we aren't born with decision-making skills. We learn them from our encounters with reality. While the path I went down is unique being born to particular parents, pursuing a particular career, having particular colleagues I believe that the principles I learned along the way will work equally well for most people on most paths. As you read my story, try to look through it and me to the underlying cause and effect relationships at the choices I made and their consequences, what I learned from them and how I changed the ways I make decisions as a result. Ask yourself what you want, seek out examples of other people who got what they wanted, and try to discern the cause and effect patterns behind their achievements so you can apply them to help you achieve your own goals.

MY CALL TO ADVENTURE

I didn't like school, not just because it required a lot of memorization but because I wasn't interested in most of the things my teachers thought were important. I never understood what doing well in school would get me other than my mother's approval

When I didn't want to do something, I would fight it, but when I was excited about something, nothing could hold me back. For example while I resisted doing chores at home, I eagerly did them outside the house to earn money. Starting at age eight, I had a newspaper route, shoveled snow off people's driveways, caddied, bussed tables and washed dishes at a local restaurant, and stocked shelves at a nearby department store. I don't remember my parents encouraging me to do these jobs so I can't say how I came by them. But I do know that having these jobs and having some money to handle independently in those early years taught me many valuable lessons I wouldn't have learned in school or at play.

In my early years the psychology of the 1960s U.S. As aspirational and inspirational to achieve great and noble goals. It was like nothing I have seen since. One of my earliest memories was of John F. Kennedy an intelligent, charismatic, man who painted vivid pictures of chaning the world for the better – exploring outer space, achieving equal rights and eliminating poverty. He and his ideas had a major effect on my thinking

Everyone was talking about the stock market because it was doing great and people were making money. This included the people playing at a local golf course called Links where I started caddying when I was twelve. So I took my caddying money and started playing the stock market.

While I liked playing the markets, I also loved playing around with my friends, whether in the neighborhood when I was a kid, using fake Ids to get into bars when we were teeens, or nowadays going to music festivals and on scuba diving trips together. I've always been an independent thinker inclined to take risks in search of rewards not just in the markets, but in most everything. I also feared boredom and mediocrity much more than I feared failure. For me great is better than terrible and terrible is better than mediocre, because terrible at least gives life flavor. The high school yearbook quote my friends chosefor was from from Thoreau. “If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer. Let him step the hte music which he hears, however measure or far away.”

In 1966 my senior year of highschool, the stock market was still booming and I was making money and having a blast, cutting school with my best friend Phil to go surfing, and doing what fun-loving high school boys usually do. Of course I didn't know it then, but that year was to be the stock market's top. After that, almost everything I thought I knew about the markets was proven wrong.

I gradually learned that prices reflect people's expectations, so they go up when actual results are better than expected and they go down when they are worse than expected

By midsummer, the dollar problem began to reach a breaking point. There were reports that Europeans wouldn't accept dollars from American tourists. The global monetary system was in the process of breaking down, but that wasn't clear to me quite yet. Then on Sunday, August 15th, 1971, President Nixon went on television to announce that the U.S. Would renege on its promise to allow dollars to be turned in for gold, which led the dollar to plummet. Since government officials had promised not to devalue the dollar, I listened with amazement as he spoke. Instead of addressing the fundamental problems behind the pressure on the dollar, he continued to blame speculators, crafting his words to make it sound like hwas moving to support the dollar while his actions were doing just the opposite. “floating it” as Nixon was doing, and then letting it sink like a stone, looked a lot like a lie to me. Over the decades since, I've repeatedly seen policymakers deliever such assurances immediately before currency devaluations, so I learned not to believe government policymakers when they assure you that they won't let a currency devaluation happen.

As I listened to Nixon speak, I wondered what those developments meant. Money as we'd known it a claim check to get gold no longer existed. That couldn't be good.

Monday morning I walked onto the floor of the exchange expecting pandemonium. There was pandemonium all right, but not the sort I expected: Instead of falling, the stock market jumped about 4% a significant daily gain.

To try to understand what was happening, I spent the rest of that summer studying past currency devaluations. I learned that everything that was going on – the currency breaking its link to gold and devaluing, the stock market soaring in response – had happened before, and that logical cause-effect relationships made those developments inevitable. My failure to anticipate this, I realized was due to my being surprised by something that hadn't happened in my lifetime, though it had happened many times before. The message that reality was conveying to me was “You better make sense of what happened to other people in other times and other places because if you don't you won't know if these things can happen to you and if they do you won't know how to deal with them.”

I owned pork bellies stocks, I had lost a lot of money. It taught me the importance of risk controls, because I never wanted to experience that pain again. It enhanced my fear of being wrong and taught me to make sure that no single bet, or even multiple bets, could cause me to lose more than an acceptable amount. In trading you have to be defensive and aggressive at the same time. If you are not aggressive, you are not going to make money, and if you are not defensive, you are not going to keep money. I believe that anyone who has made money in trading has had to experience horrendous pain at some point. Trading is like working with electricity, you can get an electric shock. With that pork belly trade and other trades, I felt the electric shock and the fear that comes with it.

I got fired from my job at Shearson, but the brokers, their clients and even the ones who fire me liked me and wanted to keep getting my advice. Even better, they were willing to pay me for it, so in 1975 I started Bridgewater Associates.

I set up a little business with Bob Scott, a friend from HBS. Along with a few pals in other countries, we made halfhearted attempts to sell commodities from the U.S. To other countries. We called it Bridgewater because we were “bridging the waters” and it had a good ring to it. By 1975 there wasn't much left of this commodities company, but as it did already exist on paper, I used it.

I worked out of my two-bedroom apartment. When a pal from HBS who I shared the apartment with moved out, I made his bedroom an office. I worked with another friend I played rugby with, and we hired a great young woman who worked as our assistant. That was Bridgewater.

Pursuing a mission with friends to help clients beat the markets was much more fun than having a real job. As long as my basic living expenses were covered, I knew I'd be happy.

MODELING MARKETS AS MACHINES

I was really getting my head into the livestock, meat, grain, and oilseed markets. I loved them because they were concrete and less subject than stocks to distorted perceptions of value. While stocks could stay too high or too low because “greater fools” kept buying or selling them, livestock ended up on the meat counter where it would be priced based on what consumers were willing to pay. I could visualize the processes that led to those sales and see the relationships underlying them. Since livestock eat grain (mostly corn) and soymeal, and since corn and soybeans compete for acreage, those markets are closesly related. I learned just about everything imaginable about them-- what the planted acreage and typical yields were in each of the major growing areas; how to convert rainfall levels in different weeks of the growing season into yield estimates; how to project harvest sizes, carrying costs, and livestock inventories by weight group, location and rates of weight gain; and how to project dressing yields, retailer margins, consumer preferences by cut of mean, and the amounts to be slaughtered in each season.

This wasn't academic learning: People with practice in the business showed me how to agricultural processes worked, and I organized what they told me into models I used to map the interactions of those parts through time.

For example, by knowing how many cattle, chickens and hogs were being fed, how much grain they ate, and how fast they gained weight, I could project both when and how much meat would come to market and when and how much corn and soymeal would be consumed. Likewise, by seeing how much acreage was planted with corn and soybeans in all the growing areas, doing regressions that showed how rainfall affected the yields in each of these areas and applying weather forecasts and rainfall data, I could project the timing and quantity of corn and soybean production. To me it all looked like a beautiful machine with logical cause-effect relationships. By understanding these relationships, I could come up with decision rules (or principles) I could model.

These early models were a far cry from the ones we use now; they were back-of-the-envelope sketches, analyzed and converted into computer programs with the technology I could afford at the time. At the very beginning, I did regressions on my handheld Hewlett-Packard HP-67 calculator, plotted charts by hand with colored pencils, and recorded every trade in composition notebooks. When the personal computer came along, I could input the numbers and watch them be converted into pictures of what would happen on spreadsheets. Knowing how cattle, hogs, and chickens progressed through their stages of production, how they competed fro meat-eater dollars, what meateaters would spend and why, and how the profit margins of meatpackers and retailers would influence their behaviours (for example with cuts of meat they would push in advertisements), I would see how the machine produced cattle, hog and chicken prices that I could bet on.

As basic as those early models were, I loved building and refining them – and they were good enough to make me money. The approach to price determination I was using was different from the one I had learned in my economics classes where supply and demand were both measured in terms of quantities sold. I found it much more practical to measure demand as the amount spent (instead of as the quantity bought) and to look at who the buyers and sellers were and why they bought and sold.

This different apporach was on of the key reasons I caught economic and market moves others missed. From that point on whever I looke at any market – commodities, stocks, bonds, currencies, whatever – I could see and understand imbalances that others whodefined supply and demand in the traditional way (as units that equaled each other) missed.

Visualizing complex systems as machines, figuring out the cause-effect relationships within them, writing down the principles for dealing with them, and feeding them into a computer so the computer could “make decidsions” for me all became standard practices.

Don't get me wrong. My approach was far from perfect. I vividly remember one “can't lose” bet that personally cost me about $100,00. That was most of my net worth at the time. More painful still, it hurt clients too. The most painful lesson that was repeatedly hammered out there that can hurt you badly, even in the seemingly safest bets, so it's always best to assume you're missing something. This lesson changed my approach to decision making in ways that will reverberate throughout this book – and to which I attribute much of my success. But I would make many other mistakes before I fully changed my behaviour.

BUILDING THE BUSINESS

While making money was good, having meaningful work and meaningful relationships was far better. To me, meaningful work is being on a mission I become engrossed in, and meaningful relationships are those I have people I care deeply about and who care deeply about me.

Think about it: It's senseless to have making money as your goal as money has no intrinsic value – its value comes from what it can buy, and it can't buy everything. It's smarter to start with what you really want, which are your real goals, and then work back to what you need to attain them. Money will be one of the things you need, but it's not the only one and certainly not the most important one once you get past having the amount you need to get what you really want.

When thinking about the things you really want, it pays to think of their relative values so you weight them properly. In my case, I wanted meaningful work and meaningful relationships equally, and I valued money less – as long as I had enough to take care of my basic needs. In thinking about the relative importance of great relationships and money, it was clear that relationships were more important because there is no amount of money I would take in exchange for a meaningful relationship, because there is nothing I could buy with that money that would be more valuable. So, for me, meaningful work and meaningful relationships were and still are my primary goals and everything I did was for them. Making moeny was an incidental consequence of that.

In the late 1970s, I began sending my observations about the markets to clients via telex. The genesis of these Daily Observations (”Grains and Oilseeds”, ”Livestock and Meats”, ”Economy and Financial Markets”) was pretty simple: While our primary business was in managing risk exposures, our clients also called to pick my brain about the markets. Taking those calls became time-consuming, so I decided it would be more efficient to write down my thoughts every day so others could understand my logic and help improve it. It was a good discipline since it forced me to research and reflect every day. It also became a key channel of communication for our busienss. Today aalmost forty years and ten thousand publications later, our Daily Obsrevations are read, reflected on, and argued about my clients and policymakers around the world. I'm still writing them, along with others at Bridgewater, and expet to continue to write them until people don't care to read them or I die.

One of my consulting clients during this period was McDonald's, which was a huge beef buyer, and Lane Processing, then the largest chicken producer in the country. I made them both a lot of money – especially Lane Processing, which did even better from its speculations in the grain and soy markets than it did from raising and selling chickens.

Around this time, McDonald's had conceived of a new product, the Chicken McNugget, but they were reluctant to bring it to market because of their concern that chicken prices might rise and squeeze their profit margins. Chicken producers like Lane wouldn't agree to sell to them at a fixed price because they were worried that their costs would go up and they would be squeezed.

As I thought about the problem, it occurred to me that in economic terms a chicken can be seen as a simple machine consisting of a chick plus its feed. The most volatile cost that the chicken producer needed to worry about was feed prices. I showed Lane how to use a mix of corn and soymeal futures to lock in costs so they could quote a fixed price to McDonald's. Having freatly reduced its price risk, McDonald's introduced the McNugget in 1983. I felt great about helping make that happen.

I identified similar types of price relationships in the cattle and meat markets. For example, I showed cattle feeders how they could lock in strong profit margins by hedging good price relationships between their cost items (feeder cattle, corn and soymeal) and what they were going to sell (fed cattle) six months later. I developed a way of selling different cuts of fresh meat for future delivery at fixed prices far below crozen meat prices but that still produced big profit margins. Combining my clients' deep understanding of the way the “machines” of their own businesses operated with my knowledge of the way markets functioned worked to our mutual advantage, while making the markets more efficient overall. My ability to visualize these complex machines gave us a compeititve edge against those who were shooting from the hip, and eventually changed the way these industries operated. And, as always it was a kick to be working with people I liked.

I had made a lot of money on silver's rise to $10, I was kicking myself for missing the ride to $50. But at least by being out, I didn't lose money. There are anxious times in every investor's career when your expectations of what should be happening aren't aligned with what is happening and you don't know if you're looking at great opportunities or catastrophic mistakes. Because I ad a strong tendency to be right but early, I was inclined to think that was the case. It was, but to have missed the $40 move up was inexcusable to me. The plunge finally did happen in March 1980, silvercrashed back down before $11. It ruined Bunker Hunt (then the richest man in the world), and he nearly brought down the whole U.S. Economy as he fell. The Fed had to intervene to control the ripple effects. All of this pounded an indelible lesson into my head: Timing is everything. I was relieved that I was out of that market, but watching the richest man in the world – who was also someone I empathized with – go broke was jarring. Yet it was nothing compared to what was to come.

In 1979-1982 as I saw it, the Fed was stuck between a rock and a hard place. They either had to a) Print money to relieve debt problems and keep the economy going (which had already pushed inflation to 10 percent in 1981 and was causing people to dump bonds and buy inflation-hedged assets), or b) break the back of inflation by becoming bone-cushingly tight (which would break the back of debtors because debt was at the highest levels since the Great Depression). The worsening problem showed up in both progressively higher levels of inflation and progressively worse levels of economic activity. Both appeared to be coming to a head. Debts continued to rise much faster than the incomes borrowers needed to repay them, and American banks were lending huge amounts – much more than they had in capital – to emergineg countries. In March 1981, I wrote a Daily Observation entitled “The Next Depression in Perspective” and concluded it by saying, “The enormity of our debt implies that the depression will be as bad or worse than that witnessed in the thirties.”

I believed that the choice was between accelerating inflation and deflationary depresssion, I was holding both gold (which performs well in accelerating inflation) and bonds (which perform well in deflationary depressions). Up until that point, gold and bonds had moved in opposite directions, depending on wheter inflation expectations rose or fell. Holding those positions seemed much safe that holding alternatives like ccash, which would lose value in an inflation environment, or stocks, which would crash in a depression.

Mexico defaulted on it's debt and my prediction was starting to come true, a lot of people were intersted in what I had said and I was asked to be on popular stock market shows.

My prediction was dead wrong. After a delay, the economy responded to the Fed's efforts, rebounding in a noninflationary way. In other words, inflation fell while growth accelerated. The stock market began a big bull run, and over the next eighteen years the U.S. Economy enjoyed the greatest noninflationary growth period in its history.

How was that possible? Eventually, I figured it out. As money poured out of these borrower countries and into the U.S., it changed everything. It drove the dollar up, which produced deflationary pressures in the U.S., which allowed the Fed to ease interest rates without raising inflation. This fueled a boom. The banks were protected both because the Federal Reserve loaned them cash and the creditors' committees and international financial restructuring organizations such as the International Monetary Fund (IMF) and the Bank for Interanational Settlements arranged things so that the debtor nations could pay their debt service from new loans. That way everyone could pretend everything was fine and write down those loans over many years.

My experience over this period was like a series of blows to the head with a baseball bat. Being so wrong – and especially so publicly wrong – was incredibly humbling and cost me just about everything I had build at Bridgewater. I saw that I had been an arrogant jerk who was totally confident in a totally incorrect view.

So there I was after eight years in business, with nothing to show for it. Though I'd been right much more than I'd been wrong, I was all the way back to square one.

At one point I'd lost so much money I couldn't afford to pay the people who worked with me. One by one, I had to let them go. We went down to two employees – Colman and me. Then Colman had to go. With tears from all, his family packed up and returned to Oklahoma. Bridgewater was now down to just one employee: me.

Losing people I cared so much about and very nearly losing my dream of working for myself was devestating. To make ends meet, I even had to borrow $4000 from my dad until we could sell our second car. I had come to a ford in the road: Should I put on a tie and take a job on Wall Street? That was not the life I wanted. On the other hand, I had a wife and two young children to support. I realized I was facing one of life's big turning points and my choices would have big implications for me and for my family's future.

FINDING A WAY PAST MY INTRACTABLE INVESTMENT PROBLEM

Making money in the markets is tough. The brilliant trader and investor Bernard Baruch put it well when he said, “If you are ready to give up everything else and study the whole history and background of the market and all principal companies whose stocks are on the board as carefully as a medical student studies anatomy – if you can do all that in addition you have the cool nerves of a gambler, the sixth sense of a clairvoyant and the courage of a lion, you have a ghost of a chance.”

In retrospect, the mistakes that led to my crash seemed embarrassingly obvious. First, I had been wildly overconfident and had let my emotions get the better of me. I learned (again) that no matter how much I knew and how hard I worked, I could never be certain enough to proclaim things like what I'd said on Wall Street Week: “There'll be no soft landing. I can say that with absolute certainty, because I know how markets work.” I am still shocked and embarrassed by how arrogant I was.

Second, I again saw the value of studying history. What had happened, after all, was “another one of those.” I should have realized that debts denominated in one's own currency can be successfully restructured with the government's help, and that when central banks simultaneously provide stiumulus (as they did in March 1932, at the low point of the Great Depression, and as they did again in 1982), inflation and deflation can be balanced against each other. As in 1971, I had failed to recognized the lessons of history. Realizing that led me to try to make sense of all movements in all major economies and markets going back a hundred years and to come up with carefully tested decision-making principles that are timeless and universal.

Third, I was reminded of how difficult it is to time markets. My long-term estimates of equilibrium levels were not reliable enough to bet on; too many things could happen between the time I placed my bets and the time (if ever) that my estimates were reached.

Staring at these failings, I realized that if I was going to move forward without a high likelhood of getting whacked again, I would have to look at myself objectively and change – starting by learning a bettwe way of handling the natuaral agressiveness I've always shown in going what I wanted.

Imagine that in order to have a great life you have to cross a dangerous jungle. You can stay safe where you are and have ordinary life, or you can risk crossing the jungle to have a terrific life. How would you apporach that choice? Take a moment to think about it because it is the sort of choice that, in one form or another, we all have to make.

I just want to be right I don't care if the right answer comes from me. So I learned to be radically open-minded to allow others to point out what I might be missing. I saw that the only way I could succeed would be to:

1) Seek out the smartest people who disagreed with me so I could try to understand their reasoning.

2) Know when not to have an opinion.

3) Develop, test, and systemize timeless and universal principles.

4) Balance risks in way that keep the big upside while reducing the downside.

Over the years that followed, I found that most of the extraordinarily successful people I've met had similar big painful failures that taught them the lessons that ultimately helped them succeed. I saw that to do exceptionally well you have to push your limits and that, if you push you limits, you will crash and it will hurt a lot. You will think that you have failed but that won't be true unless you give up. Believe it or not, your pain will fade and you will have many other opportunities ahead of you, though you might not see them at the time. The most important thing you can do is to gather the lessons these failures provide and gain humility and radical open-mindedness in order to increase your chances of success. Then you press on.

The computer was much better than my brain in “thinking” about many things at once, and it could do it more precisely, more rapidly, and less emotionally. And, because it had such a great memory, it could do a better job of compounding my knowledge and the knowledge of the people I worked with as Bridgewater grew. Rather than argue about our conclusions, my partners and I would argue about our different decision-making criteria. Then we resolved our disagreements by testing the criteria objectively.

While the computer was much better than our brains in many ways, it didn't have the imagination, understanding, and logic that we did. That's why our brains working with the computer made such a great partnership.

Truweth be known, forecasts aren't worth very much, and most people who make them don't make money in the markets. This is because nothing is certain and when one overlays the probabilities of all of the various things that affect the future in order to make a forecast, one gets a wide array of possibilities with varying probabilities, not one highly probable outcome. We believe that market movements reflect economic movements. Economic movements are reflected in economic statistics. By studying the relationships between economic statistics and market movements, we've developed precise rules for identifying important shifts in the economic/market environment and in turn our positions. In other words, rather than forecasting changes in the economic environment and shifting positions in anticipation of them, we pick up these changes as they're occuring and move our money around to keep in those markets which perform best in that environment.

[runawayjay]

Of Words and Swordplay

Summary: After Euron Greyjoy attacks the Iron Fleet and the Dornish at the end of 7.02, Daenerys is more persistent in taking Drogon to avenge her allies. Daenerys plans to learn how to fight and defend herself to ease her advisors' worries, but she isn't expecting Jon to offer his own instruction.

Chapter 1: The Dragon’s Sword on a03!

Of all the things Daenerys loved about her advisors, it was their honesty she valued most. Of all the things she found most irritating about them, it was their stubborn refusal to allow her to take risks that annoyed her the greatest. She was a queen, they would say, and much too valuable.

What kind of queen am I, Daenerys would think, if I sit by while others die for me?

After all, she was a dragon. She may not have armor, and she may not know how to wield a sword, but she was the strongest of all her subjects as a queen should be. Except, her advisors seemed to be too caught on the “may nots” of that sentiment rather than the “dragon” part. They were not keen on the idea of Daenerys riding Drogon to burn Euron Greyjoy’s fleet and avenge her fallen allies of Dorne and the Iron Islands. They weren’t keen on the idea the first time she presented it, but Dany was losing her patience.

“All it takes is one well-aimed arrow, Your Grace,” Missandei said again.

“Then I shall have armor made for myself.”

“And what if you happen to fall from Drogon?” Tyrion supposed. “What if by unfortunate circumstance you find yourself on board an enemy ship, out of reach for your dragons’ help, and no way to defend yourself against that madman and his men? Your Grace, you are a ruler, not a soldier. You don’t know how to use a sword, and there will be a worse fate waiting aboard Euron’s ship on your way to King’s Landing than Cersei taking your head.”

Daenerys straightened in her highbacked chair, taking a moment to think by glancing at the war table in front of her—the map of Westeros and everything that was hers. Dany had to believe she would rule over more than just a wooden map on a desolate island. A man like Euron Greyjoy would not stop her.

After all, she was a dragon. She could eat roast kraken for breakfast, if she wished.

Daenerys looked up at Tyrion, hardly moving anything but her head. “Then I shall learn to fight.”

Before any of her advisors could object, Daenerys stood, resting the tips of her fingers against the map of the kingdoms that were hers. “Summon the best instructors from the Khalasar and the Unsullied. I have as much time as it will take for the most skilled blacksmith we have to fashion me armor suitable to riding Drogon, so I cannot be taught by both men. We shall hold court to determine which man would be best suited to the task.”

Daenerys stepped away from the war table, dismissing herself from her advisors. However, when she reached the door she had another thought. Daenerys looked over her shoulder at Tyrion, adding, “And summon Jon Snow, as well.”

“At once, Your Grace,” Tyrion said, submitting to the idea of sword training however opposed he sounded.

Initially, Daenerys had intended for her summons of Jon Snow to merely be a show of her character and strength. She neither disliked nor liked him, but Daenerys recognized he could become either a helpful ally as Tyrion insisted—or a bothersome enemy. If Jon would not bend the knee, then he needed to know exactly who he was opposing. It seemed only just to let him see.

Nevertheless, when Daenerys’s summoned instructors were told her commands, and when the court decided the best way to determine which one would be her personal instructor was a combat competition using blunted training weapons, she had not expected the supposed King in the North to step forward and break the sullen silence he seemed so fond of.

“Your Grace,” he said, standing bolder in her presence than he ever had the first time, “I have no place in your court, I know, but—”

“Do not presume to council me against my decision, Jon Snow,” Daenerys said, having heard enough from Tyrion to know that anything following the word “but” was nothing in favor of her choices.

“I don’t,” he said.

The words rang, as if he were waiting for her to interrupt him again. He stood still in his Stark leathers with a had a hard look about him—his posture, his mouth, his eyes. Especially his eyes, Daenerys noted. They seemed equal parts cold and warm, and she had no idea how that was possible. All she knew was he looked on with no intentions other than honesty, and she supposed she had to admire that. Anyone who’d dare look on her as if she wasn’t the last Targaryen or a queen but just another person and speak his mind was worthy of admiration.

Finally, Jon continued. “You want to know how to defend yourself against Greyjoy men—Westerosi soldiers. After the Greyjoys, perhaps you’ll want to defend yourself against Lannister men—more Westerosi soldiers. I’ve never seen the Unsullied fight,” he paused. “I’ve never seen the Dothraki fight. But, I know they fight differently than Westerosi like Greyjoys and Lannisters.”

“What is your point, Jon Snow?”

“I’d like to offer my own instruction, Your Grace.”

Daenerys straightened on her throne, not entirely expecting such words. She allowed seconds to pass before she asked, “Are you not preoccupied with the dragonglass you wanted so badly as to travel all the way here for?”

“The mining hasn’t begun yet,” Jon said carefully. “You were kind enough to allow me mine the dragonglass with the help of your people. I offer my instruction as my thanks while there is still time to offer it.”

Daenerys drummed her fingers quietly against the stone around her. She tilted her head at Jon and said, “You refuse to bend the knee, but then offer me your sword for lessons.”

“I do.”

“You’re very bold to assume your instruction is as equal to those of my own men.”

“I never said anything about equal, just different.”

Daenerys held Jon’s stare, just as he held hers—a battle of stubborn wills. He was an admirable man, indeed, to still be standing underneath the weight of whatever sadness he carried. She wasn’t sure what it was, but it was the only reason she thought could explain how his eyes can look cold and warm at the same time: deep sadness that has turned him into a man as hard as she’d heard the North itself can be, but a defiant love for something that kept him up and fighting. Daenerys thought perhaps she might like Jon Snow more than she disliked him, but admiration was not enough. He believed firmly in what he said was truth—this threat from the dead—yet she didn’t know him nearly well enough to decide if his truth was the real truth.

Dany was about to speak when another voice interrupted.

“Your Grace,” Ser Davos said, stepping forward beside his king as he had the first day they’d met, “if I may. As Commander of the Night’s Watch, Jon Snow taught his brothers how to fight and defend. I reckon he taught them before that, too. And when the day came to battle for Winterfell, I was there when Jon proposed to Ramsay Bolton that they decide the fight in single combat rather than let thousands die. Bolton refused, knowing he’d lose to the greatest swordsman in the North. You'd find no better fighter and no better instructor.”

Daenerys thought Jon was rather fortunate to have a man such as Davos to speak on his behalf, judging by the look Jon gave his advisor that he wouldn’t have said so much himself.

“Ramsay refused because, like you said, Your Grace: everyone loves doing what they’re best at,” Jon said, looking back up at her with a slight smile that was neither genuine nor joyful, but impatient instead. “Ramsay was best a trickery and torture, and none of this matters to your learning to fight.”

Jon gave another glance to Davos, neither harsh nor thankful. “My offer stands, Your Grace.”

Daenerys had made up her mind before Ser Davos decided to champion his king’s skill, but the course of conversation had made her wonder. There was much the northman and his advisor were not saying, such as days before when Davos had said Jon took a knife in the heart for his people. Tyrion determined it was simply a saying of the dreary and dull North, but Ser Davos was not of the North. Though she suspected no treachery, only secrecy, something else was at play and she wanted to know what.

“What is it, Jon Snow, that you are best at?” Daenerys asked, tilting her head in curiosity.

Jon stood still and silent and defiant, obviously having been prodded long enough with court-room talk and manners. Daenerys sighed, assuming she would never hear the answer to her question. As warm and sad as Jon Snow’s eyes seemed, he was not so unguarded as to show any vulnerability in the court of someone who was not a friend, even if she wasn’t a foe, either.

“Very well,” Daenerys finally said, and Jon seemed to relax knowing her questioning was over. “I’ll gladly have your Westerosi instruction—if you can best my men.”

#jonerys #jon x dany #got fanfiction #Game of Thrones #jonerys fanfic #jon snow #daenerys targaryen #jenn writes #im honesty a little apprehensive about posting got fanfic because this fandom has a habit of being a bit ruthless #but whats the point of writing something and not sharing it? so fuck it

[stevedonnellyfaith-blog]

My Writing Homework (Post 78) 3-4-15

                        Last week I was only ten minutes late for Thursday night’s meeting of the Bereavement Group.  It is not that I am intentionally being impolite but the commute time from Richmond to Brentwood is very inconsistent.  The other members of the group graciously allow for my serial interruption of the flow of their conversation.  

Sandy let me know that I had missed her introduction for the topic of next week’s meeting.  She encouraged me to write on the subject for the newsletter in case my pitiable punctuality degraded to an extent that prevented me from presenting my thoughts orally.  Next week’s discussion topic is the three roles that significant people fulfill in our lives.  People enter our life for either a REASON, a SEASON or a LIFETIME.  My homework follows:

‘When someone is in your life for a REASON.  It is usually to meet a need you have expressed.  They have come to assist you with a difficulty, to provide you with guidance and support, to aid you physically, emotionally or spiritually. They may seem like a Godsend and they are!  They are for that reason that you need to be.”

For me there have been many significant people who have appeared and exited my life in turnstile fashion.  They answered a prayer, performed a vital service, or administered a spiritual remedy as pleasant to taste as cod liver oil.  Unless you live in solitude, you will be assisted, disappointed or even betrayed by many different people throughout your lifetime.  For many years, I was a semi-professional grudge holder. I never reached black-belt status in prolonged enmity, but I certainly had progressed well beyond the novice white and yellow belts.  Through my journey with Pam’s illness I learned a valuable life lesson:  an Orange Dream Machine from Jamba Juice tastes much better than the poison of hatred. I now try to release any disdain I feel for the bit characters, the Soup Nazis, that troop in and out of my life for the purpose of teaching me how to forgive.

There are also truly pleasant and significant characters that appear in the weekly sitcom of my life for a REASON.  These aren’t the red shirted, engineering, Star Trek, cannon fodder that haplessly blaze away with their phasors at the invincible alien creature before laying down their lives for plot development.  I’m talking about memorable actors in our lives that answer our prayers and then depart quickly into the sunset like McCloud, Rooster Cogburn or the Lone Ranger.

For the Donnelly family many nurses and oncologists fit that description, but the best example is a Catholic priest. Father Luke is the Parochial Vicar at St John Vianny in Walnut Creek, the parish directly across from John Muir Walnut Creek campus, a place where the Donnellys have spent far too much time.  A friend of Father Jerry’s in the seminary, Father Luke hasn’t moved from parish to parish nor is he on the fast track to a bishopric in Des Moines, Singapore or any other Diocese.  He serves the needs of his parishioners and ministers to the patients and families directly across Ygnacio Valley Road from his office.

Father Luke has answered the spiritual bell pull of Donnelly prayers on numerous occasions. Sometimes we requested to talk to him through one of his Eucharistic ministers and sometimes Father Luke has walked into the room without being summoned by anything other than our inner turmoil.  His daily hospital round seems to be directed by a GPS route programmed directly by the Holy Spirit.  Upon arrival at his destination his very presence exudes peace into any predicament like a swung censor at high mass.  If you summed up the total time that Father Luke spent visiting a Donnelly sick room, the total might equate to less than three hours.  On the other hand, if you wished to metaphorically demonstrate the spiritual service that he has done for our family, you would have to rent a dump truck.  For the Donnellys of Brentwood, Father Luke is a REASON.  Understandably, I hope never to meet Father Luke again on this side of the veil, but he will remain in my thankful thoughts and prayers.

“When people come into your life for a SEASON, it is because your turn has come to share, grow or learn.  They bring you an experience of peace or make you laugh.  They may teach you something you have never done.  They usually give you an unbelievable amount of joy. Believe it!  It is real!  ‘But’ only for a season.”

The first man that was a big influence on my life was a mentor to both my father and me.  Carroll Bailey was a senior teacher on staff when my father became an English teacher at Mount Hermon school.  Later he was my house counselor for a year and a good shepherd that watched out for me during all my four years at a Boston boarding High School. Mr. Bailey, as I think of him even to this day, always had my best interest at heart.  Although I wasn’t the “best” Donnelly (that was my brother Dan,) or the “brightest” Donnelly (that was my brother Jim,) Mr. Bailey knew that I was the nearest clone to my father.  In the absence of my parent’s direct influence, as I staggered the ugly road through adolescence towards manhood, Mr. Bailey’s gentle concern and tongue like an angle-grinder ensured that I didn’t stray too far into the bushes and end up a jerk.  Although  it seemed that he wasn’t always watching me closely, he was invariably on the scene like Bat Man whenever I had made a poor decision.   Whether I had misplaced my razor for a week or had snuck out of a school assembly for some goof-off time, I would invariably run smack dab into Carrol Bailey.  To this day, I remember him shaking his head in resigned disappointment when I had accidentally missed my last Chemistry exam and had to take the test in a one-on-one session at the professor’s house to qualify for graduation.  Mr. Bailey was only in my life for a SEASON, but I never would have made it to and through the Naval Academy without his sub-vocalized instructions rebounding like a puck in my cranium.

A second important man was also only in my life for a SEASON. Jay Balboa was an anonymous academy classmate that I first consciously remember meeting in line for service selection. A fellow math major, he was one slot before me in class rank so we ended up selecting the same ship.  His welcome aboard package included a color picture of the USS Dahlgren, AKA the Dirty D; my picture was a black and white shot that looked like it had been taken surreptitiously by a Russian operative. Jay and I served together for three and half tough years on an aging tin can often administered brutally in Old Navy fashion.  We suffered through an internship regime that called for driving the ship on four hours or less sleep and absorbing vociferous and often public criticism from superior officers.  We kept each other sane and sober – for the most part.  Most importantly, he imparted a wonderful gift upon me:  he helped me start my journey towards making Pam’s Catholic faith my own.  Jay and I have fallen back into friendship as many old shipmates do now through Facebook, but we will probably never again approach the same level of intimacy that we did in our SEASON as shipmates.

“LIFETIME relationships teach you lifetime lessons; things you must build upon in order to have a solid emotional foundation.  Your job is to accept the lesson, love the person, and put what you have learned to use in all other relationships and areas of your life.”

I have written about many of my LIFETIME relationships with different family members throughout the year and a half that I have written this column, most notably about my relationship with Pam, who continues to influence me from her vantage in heaven.  My sister asked me the other week why I write so little about the second oldest relationship of my natural and super-natural life, my relationship with my mother. My answer was simple, “No one is supposed to look at the person behind the curtain.  Pay no attention to the person behind the curtain.”  While I am often superficially characterized as a near clone of my father, my mother’s subtler influence is apparent my better qualities – Mr. Bailey might want to discuss which and how many of those there are.  Thoughtful, patient, faithful, reserved and devoted, my mother’s personality provided the solid foundation necessary for Pam to shape me into a passable Catholic husband.  As I recently spent a week observing my parent’s interaction with young Natalie, I could see how my mom’s quiet personality and humor was successfully imprint onto each of her five children.  I am delighted that Natalie will someday remember my mother’s love and have the opportunity to pass on her own rendition of Sue Donnelly’s motherly affection to my future grandchildren.  Mom has taught me many of life’s most important lessons.  Hers certainly qualifies as a LIFETIME relationship.

#God #Jesus #The Holy Spirit #The Virgin Mary #Bereavement #IHM #friednship #St John Vianny #Father Luke #motherhood #grace #love #faith