My first Saturday one in awhile. Very nice day to day. We had an appointment with a tax preparer today. It was eye opening and it will take some time to gather everything they want but even with a mortgage and the way they figure medical deductions we may still have just the standard deduction. We thought for sure the way we built up debt last year that we would be able to put that those medical expenses into a little larger return. Maybe still but we have some research to do so we will see. I just keep thinking how sick do you have to be before you can claim it is as a deduction and no I don’t want to find the answer to that.
We took the opportunity to meet with some friends which was really nice plus Norma got to spend time with her favorite people. I did most of the driving which included multiple transfers which is going to be the hardest part of driving. The driving part is easy but it still takes 5 minutes or so to get in or out if the drivers seat but it is getting easier. The problems is it is very physically demanding and tires me out quickly also some of that effort puts my body in positions that could be problem for bowel accidents. Today after lunch during a transfer I heard a loud noise which I thought for sure was trouble luckily it wasn’t. It very easily could have been as well. Another thing I tried was cathing in the van. This most certainly will be something I will need to be able to do especially while getting to public facilities still is a little stressful. We have pretty shaded windows but we took extra care to guard my privacy but there will be situations this is needed to stay on schedule. All in all even though my legs are real stiff tonight it was a good day. A day practicing skills, taking care of business, and seeing friends are all things that can help me bettereverday.
He should’ve kept himself a secret. Ladybug had asked to keep her identity— Chat Noir should have done the same. Instead, he foolishly thought his love might reach her, and she ran away.
Of course she did, he thinks sadly, bitterly. Marinette loved Adrien. Chat Noir was merely a fighting partner.
He barely sees the akuma that flies to his ring, settles there, flaps patiently.
“Nyah, don’t do that, little papillon,” Plagg hisses, batting the butterfly away.
Adrien starts. “Sorry, Plagg,” he apologizes, cradling the ring away from the akuma, his eyes fixed on it.
“Call your purr-recious Lady,” Plagg says calmly, floating defensively between his human and the akuma. “Quick, befurr it gets you.”
Adrien flinches. The butterfly flutters toward him, only to retreat when Plagg swats at it again. “R-right.” His hand flies to his phone, unlocks the screen, hovers over the button to call Marinette’s number.
“Adrien,” Plagg complains.
“I know,” Adrien grimaces, pressing the button. He lifts the phone to his ear, feeling his whole body tremble at every ring tone.
He wants to close his eyes in relief, but the akuma is still present. “Marinette,” he says instead, flushing when he hears all the embarrassment and relief in his voice. “I, ah…”
“I’m sorry,” she blurts, as he says, “…there’s a black butterfly in my room.”
They both pause, parsing what the other has said, and then Adrien bursts into helpless laughter. “Please just come and purify this akuma,” he gasps. “And then, if you l-like…”
“I’ll come, of course I’ll come,” Marinette says immediately. “See you in a few.”
Ladybug knocks on a frame of his huge windows in the promised time. When he lets her in, she lands gracefully, tugging her yo-yo in after her.
“Plagg’s watching the akuma,” Adrien tells her.
“You don’t have one?” Adrien asks, uncertain.
“Oh, mine is Tikki,” Ladybug realizes. “Come here, little butterfly,” she adds when the akuma starts flapping away from her. The yo-yo flashes out and catches the creature, and she releases it a moment later. Then—
“I suppose I will see you later,” Ladybug tells him, and doesn’t look at him.
Adrien’s heart drops. “Of course,” he says meekly, staring past her shoulder.
“Humans are such fools,” Plagg yawns, floating past. “Cheese, Ladybug?”
Ladybug’s face wrinkles. “Phew, no, thank you, Plagg.”
The kwami shrugs. “More for me. But hurry up and talk it out, before more akuma come. I’m not a bug swatter.”
Adrien’s ears burn. Some hero he is, growing so negative that he’s attracted an akuma.
“I’m sorry,” Ladybug says suddenly, and her hand lifts to her earring. “I’m sorry,” she repeats. “I just… I didn’t…”
“It’s fine,” Adrien says automatically.
Ladybug shakes her head fiercely. “It’s not,” she insists. “For you to feel like this… for an akuma to have… I just… I never thought it would be you.” She finishes quietly, whispering.
“Me what?” Adrien croaks, stumbling blindly into a chair and sitting down before his legs can give out on him. Ladybug follows, but he still can’t look at her.
She struggles with herself for a moment. “You know I like you— l-love you. But you love Ladybug, don’t you? I can’t… Marinette isn’t Ladybug.”
Adrien looks at her suddenly, glaring. “And Adrien is not Chat Noir, but I’m Chat Noir more than I am Adrien. Ladybug or Marinette, I love you— all of you. I just don’t know if you love Chat Noir.”
Ladybug’s lips tremble, and then she pulls him out of his chair into a hug, and they sink to the floor in shock and relief. “I don’t know if I love Chat Noir, either,” Marinette whispers into Adrien’s ear. “Will you let me try?”
Music: Prince of Peace by Hillsong, Tapestry by Hillsong, and Letting go by Tracey Chattaway
Production Progress: Not much, I admit. Honestly, today, I want to sit down with a bowl of soup and study chemistry and stuff. But I finally took a look at chapter nine and re-outlined about two scenes
Goals for Tomorrow: Re-outline the last few scenes. I’m thinking a lot about wattpad and I dooon’t know when I’ll have time to actually do things on there.
Maybe if I look at Wattpad as a way to have fun with my imagination instead of as a way to market, I’ll get into it. But for now:
^^^(That looks like high-quality stuff, but I’m really gonna eat some ramen.)
(Also, this gif is giving me legend of korra vibes)
(Also, someone teach me how to use chopsticks. Because I use them like forks. I apologize.)
Our homework until next Thursday is to fill the “sketchbook” (8 pages total) with whatever sketches!
I wanted the front to really pop, so… Watercolor wash background and some nifty sharpie designs and bam here it is!
Just as Sam brings him another beer (not really Blaine’s drink, but since it’s a pub and he’s here with the guys, he figured he could compromise this time), Blaine’s phone rings.
It’s a crowded place and through all the noise Blaine has trouble hearing Kurt’s words, but after Kurt yells ‘Come home now please, it’s important’, Blaine shouts back that he’ll be on his way right away.
He hands his beer back to Sam with an apologetic face, and stands up.
“Hey, Blaine, where do you think you’re going, man?” Bruce asks him, and the others immediately chime in.
“Yeah, we just barely started, bud!”
“How about that darts competiton? Not cool!”
Blaine quickly gets into his coat, and ties a scarf around his neck.
“Sorry guys, just got a call from Kurt, it’s an emergency,” he says, getting on a glove. It gets stuck and he realizes he’s trying to shove it on the wrong hand.
“Since they married, Kurt’s got him under his thumb,” Jack says, shaking his head, and the guys laugh.
“Come on, Jack,” Blaine says, rolling his eyes, “That’s not true.”
“Yeah, he keeps running off to Kurt at the first call, like a dog on a leash,” Kyle shouts, and Blaine’s sure that Kyle already had too much, judging from his red cheeks and neck.
“I’m not…” Blaine wants to say, but the shouting and laughing gets louder, and he can’t even defend himself.
“That guy got your freedom, you’re not a mustang anymore,” Bruce states, as if he’s sharing some deep and dark wisdom, “You’re just a friggin’ pony.”
Everyone at the table laughs obnoxiously, except maybe Sam, who is guiltily staring at his beer.
“Shut up!” Blaine smashes his fist on the table to get the general attention, “I’m not some toy, I’m not some trapped spirit, okay? I’m a married man. Kurt doesn’t have my freedom, Kurt is my freedom. We’re each other’s freedoms.”
The guys get quiet, and their silence enrages Blaine even more.
“He would run to me too, if I called him in need,” Blaine states proudly, “It’s called trust, and if you’re all too shallow to understand that, well, I give you my regards.”
He takes his messenger bag, and prays that it doesn’t get stuck, because that would totally ruin his speech. It doesn’t, and when he storms out of the pub, he can see thought the hazy window, Sam giving him the thumbs up.