#I am totally mentally checked out but still actively panicking that I’m not and I never do enough

[campirebitesarchive]

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[serene-victory-77]

Why The Crows Being Teenagers Is Actually Perfectly Realistic

There’s a TL;DR are the end because wow I like to rant.

I lightly discuss the general situations they’re all in to explore how they are frighteningly mature and competent, but it’s not particularly depressing or descriptive, it’s definitely lighter than the books

I thought about this post with a joke first: “People who think that Six of Crows is unrealistic because they’re so young clearly have not spent much time with traumatized honors students.”

It’s a bit of an exaggeration, but the point stands.

But I decided that, hm, actually, I could make a point about this. I totally agree with the aging up of the characters in the Shadow and Bone show, but when people straight up say that the books are wrong or unrealistic for having a young crew, I get annoyed, and here’s why (other than me reading the books for the first time when I was 13 and thinking ‘Huh okay, I see it’ and now being lowkey offended when people say they ignore it for being unrealistic):

On Inej

- At first I thought Inej’s wisdom and general demeanor was one of the most unrealistic things in the book

- When I thought about it longer, I was like “Actually, she’s 16, right? I’ve sent some of the most lyrical philosophy trying to help my friends while in high school. My friends have done the same. It’s valid.”

- Frankly, teenagers love hard-hitting philosophical truths. They love repeating what they’ve read or heard in movies and in books and from family stories. They love sharing little bits of wisdom they have come up with

- Inej’s ability to hear and understand philosophy and wisdom that she was surrounded by for 14 straight years and then sit on it and elaborate it for her friends to understand, or even just to piss them off in Kaz’s case? 

- Teenagers have that. They do it. So, Inej’s Wisdom passes, to me. It’s valid. 

As for her being calm

- You know how everyone jokes that Kaz seems calm on the outside but when you get to his POV he’s like “What the fuck” at the Van Eck house or just straight up “Huh, is this revenge for making tree jokes” at the Djel River thingy in the Ice Court?

- Inej is like that, too. And she gets angry, and she gets confused, or exhausted.

- AKA every quiet kid ever. Like, are you kidding? Have you ever been in a situation in which it’s literally chaos all around you, people are screaming and things are being destroyed (think middle school classroom with bitchy long term substitute and even worse students), and you’re just, calm? You pick up your things, you do what you need to do?

- That’s Inej. Like, what else is she gonna do? She’s smart enough to know that panicking won’t help anyone, and so she just rides it out. Internally she might be like “Why is this happening” but frankly, her being quiet and controlled in most situations is probably a coping mechanism and I respect that

- Pretty sure this is also based on the fact that the Suli have no land for their own and constantly have to keep moving. It might align with generational trauma, I’m sure someone could explain it better than me, but being able to keep your cool while constantly having to change and adapt to new situations, in, say, a country with hellfire politics and no land to call your own? Seems like a hereditary trait that could be useful in Ketterdam, although it’s sad.

On Inej’s abilities

- Simone Biles started training when she was 6 and went to the World Artistic Gymnastics Championships when she was 16, where she qualified in all the events. 

- There are videos of people walking over tightropes as young as three years old. We know Inej didn’t start that young, but not only was she naturally talented at it, but she spent a lot of time practicing. I think it’s valid. Plus, some of her family members do some pretty crazy things in her flashbacks, because that’s the whole point of what they do. 

- Youngest person to beat American Ninja Warrior was 16 year old Vance Walker

- Inej has a variety of of tools that help her wall climb, and while it’s true that she started young and got good really fast, she already had a history of physical work that would help her, and from what we can gleam from the book, a surprising amount of free time in which she was actively encouraged to learn everything she could. 

So that’s Inej! I think her skills are perfectly possible for someone with her history and situation. It’s true that she’s naturally skilled, but that’s not actually all that unusual. And her demeanor and wisdom do fit in with what a lot of teenagers are like and the circumstances she was brought up in

Onto Kaz!

- One thing I hear about is that Kaz is too smart for not having gone to school and also too young to know all that he does

- Do you all KNOW how many self-taught people there have been in this world? The word for people who are self-taught is autodidacts, and honestly a huge amount of famous people apply. Like many, many other people in history (there’s a whole list of them in Wikipedia), he had an vested interest in a field and he learned all he could. Sure, those fields were magic tricks and math, but still.

- Suddenly I have a lot of thoughts

- Okay, think, hyperfixations. That’s essentially what Kaz’s thing with magic tricks was, right? Have any of you ever spent time with an eight year old that clearly really, really loves dinosaurs? Those kids can spout names and facts and identify them by their skeletons and frankly know more than I ever will. Kaz’s was magic tricks. All kids are special.

- Kaz continued working on magic tricks and practicing them for years, so, I think that gets a pass. 

- As for the math! Look, a Fact Of Life is that some kids are just Like That, whether it be possibly from neurodivergence or other factors:

- Flo and Kay Lyman are twins with Autism who basically have the calendar of EVER memorized. Kaz memorizing card decks is sensible, and these ladies don’t need to look up anything to figure it out, so Kaz doing sums inside his head seems plausible. His “photographic memory’ isn’t impossible, although the term itself might be incorrect.

- Katherine Johnson who worked at NASA (yes, the lady from Hidden Figures), was so good at math that she was in high school by age 10 and went to college at age 15. It’s true that she had some teaching, but 1. There’s no evidence Kaz had absolutely no schooling, even if it was just at home with books and 2. Kaz was 9 when he came to Ketterdam, and after Jordie died, when he wasn’t surviving, he was learning. 

- Human calculator is a term that is applied to children a lot and there’s definitely plenty of videos showing how smart these kids are and them doing mental math easily, which he does in the books

- He had a LOT of pressure on him to figure out all he could, and if he wanted to move forward, he was going to have to learn a lot. He spent hours practicing magic tricks, for all we know he spent hours practicing math too. We know Jordie was a bit of a bookworm too, so Kaz from a young age probably already had a reason to learn. Personally, a lot of my love for books was inspired by my older sibling when I was younger

- Young people are adaptable. Kaz is incredibly adaptable. The term prodigy exists because of people like him through history. 

- As for him being rational, there’s no other way to survive. Some of the greatest soldiers in history have been very, very young, and very, very smart. It’s true tacticians are generally considered to be older, but that doesn’t mean there haven’t been very young ones. 

- A lot of the generals I found were like, 19 years old, but Kaz is 1. not a general and 2. in a place where young people take up the mantle really, really quickly, and frankly it’s been like that for a long time. I still think this passes. This isn’t relevant but William the Conqueror was apparently called “The Bastard”?

- Frankly, underground communities of thieves probably don’t go around publishing their escapades so to me it makes sense that I can’t just look up “famous young thieves” and get anything that makes sense, but I did try

- Y’all I tried to do research on youngest escape artists since I think Kaz qualifies and I found myself in what I think is a magicians forum? It’s from 2002-ish and I feel like I’ve just found a relic. I can’t definitely prove they’re all saying the truth, but some of the people there talk about 10-11 year olds at magic camps, so, it’s not impossible for this to be a skill Kaz learned really young, particularly when he made a habit of following around magicians

- I think he passes the realism check overall

For the other Crows:

- Nina being so proficiently multilingual makes sense to me, because she’s been in the Little Palace almost her entire life with all the best teachers they could afford at her disposal. Some people just click with languages. One such would be Timothy Doner, who spoke 23 languages at 16. 

- Nina is a child soldier. She of course can handle the battlefield, although I imagine there’s a degree of trauma that she has to deal with (although it’s true that most of her work was always meant to angle her towards being a spy).

- Jesper was taught to shoot from a young age by Aditi, who was likely incredibly proficient. Plus, there’s mentions of him and his father being on some sort of frontier at one point in the books, so, it’s likely that Jesper got his fair share of ‘being a child soldier” since he would’ve been 15 or younger. Plus, with being a Fabrikator, he gets a leg up

- Jesper’s smart y’all, he just also likes to have fun

- I am a little terrified by the fact that I looked up ‘youngest sharpshooter’ and found out about a 9 year old girl (Addysson “Addy” Soltau) who can indeed shoot guns, but uh, it does prove my point

- Matthias... I haven’t heard anyone really argue about Matthias. He’s the oldest at 18 and again, he’s essentially a religious child soldier. Of course he would be built af and know how to handle himself in a fight, and in a flashback about meeting Trassel, we’re told that he was actually distanced from the other boys and was the biggest and strongest/smartest of the group. Perhaps not compared to Kaz, but still

- We know how Wylan ended up how he is, so I don’t think i have to defend how he’s both a musical prodigy, good at math, and good at chemistry. Plenty of kids who can’t do one thing will immediately gravitate to a different field (think AP math students who can’t write essays, or those kids who could analyse a book and it’s metaphors in class but didn’t understand geometry).

- Granted he took it far but it’s kinda implied that  his father ignored him eventually and what else was Wylan going to do

- I don’t really know how he did chemistry while not being able to read the symbols and stuff, but that’s likely because I’ve never had to learn the way he did and also I really suck at Chemistry, but I refuse to believe that it invalidates his capabilities

Final Thoughts:

- They’re Traumatized Honors Students

- People might say that “it’s unrealistic that all the smart ones somehow ended up together” but again they’re traumatized honors students and those gravitate to each other

- Of course the smart ones ended up together, they’re the ones in those crazy situations precisely because they are prodigies. Nina wouldn’t have met Matthias if she wasn’t skilled and a spy, Kaz wouldn’t have known Inej if she hadn’t been skilled at silence (I can’t explain that one but uh ninjas did/do exist and it IS still a fantasy world). Kaz would have never been a leader of the Dregs in a position to find Jesper if he hadn’t been so determined to rise to the top, and Jesper wouldn’t have been in Ketterdam if his father hadn’t thought that Jesper was smart enough to get that chance.

- You know how those fringe revolutionary artists for new eras end up knowing all knowing each other and even hanging out? That’s them.

- I have decided there is a strong basis for Autistic Kaz, someone who is more studied than me should feel free to explore this.

- I read this book a few years ago, A Long Way Gone by Ishmael Beah. It’s about this guy’s experiences as a boy soldier and it’s a painful read so I’m not sure I recommend it as a casual read, but he talked about these young kids being able to actually make competent military strategies and handle warfare. It’s an extreme example of what I’m trying to explain when it comes to them being able to handle the brutality of their situation, but it’s true, essentially

- They are definitely serious, but if you think they’re not teenagers I just, disagree so much. They have moments of lighthearted banter, they make light of their situation, they try to support each other Nina covers it so well in her farewell at the end of Crooked Kingdom: The little rescues of laughing at each others jokes or eating together and just supporting each other, is not only a very human thing, but a very teenager thing. 

- Scary experiences that shape us happen all the time, and although for most it’s not the things that the Crows experience, picking each other up is a big part of why they do read as teenagers to me. I’ve seen kids be able to seriously converse about things like being questioned by the police, or being left to their own devices for days at a time, or the general impending doom they all feel, and it’s dark, but they’re also going to joke about silly puns 20 minutes later. 

- Teenagers aren’t exempt from terrifying maturity and competence

- Finally: Despite all I said, it’s a fantasy story and doesn’t have to be realistic

In the end, everyone can believe what they want to believe, but this is my case for my opinion.

TL;DR The Crows are all prodigies and a lot of their achievements and capabilities are based in reality and there are real people who actually achieved things like what they’ve done. Messed up prodigies gravitate to messed up prodigies, hence how they all end up together. When it comes to their mental state, most of them have been brought up their entire lives in situations that required for them to problem solve and keep their cool even when things are going to hell.

[ashbrea381writings]

Red-Eye to Destiny: Chapter 2, The Gala

Mari and Luka texted Damian as soon as they made it back to the house just outside of town. Upon receiving the return message, they promptly fell into bed and slept soundly until late into the morning. Lazily getting dressed for the day, the pair started unpacking their clothes, setting up for laundry and airing out coats that didn’t need washing but definitely needed some care. Going into her design studio, Mari checked on her dress that she’d completed before they left for the last few concerts before their holiday break. “Luka, why does your dad want us to go to this thing again?” Mari sighed, hanging the dress up to check for any last-second alterations she might want to make.

“It’s good networking. He’s hung out with the organizers a bunch and wanted us to meet them, plus tons of people are gonna be there. He said that one of the organizers has a bunch of sons who usually cause some scene or another so it’s usually pretty funny.” Luka walked into the room and rested his chin on top of her head. “Besides, it’ll be a chance to show off your skills to some people who might want to commission something.” “I suppose.” Mari leaned back into Luka for a moment before pulling away to pull out his suit. Mari had made Luka a custom Leather Tuxedo jacket with teal trim on the cuffs and lapels, a matching teal lining and a few silver studs on the collar. His pants were simple charcoal grey with teal lining on the pockets, and subtle teal stitchwork around the cuffs and waistband. His shirt was simple black with a teal pocket square and everything. “I’m still so impressed by you, Melody.” Luka sighed, pouring love into every word through their bond. Mari just giggled in response and ran her fingers over the seams in both his suit and her dress. The dress itself was a strapless, deep burgundy dress with black cherry blossoms embroidered and beaded in a sweeping shape from the hem to the bodice of the dress where it spread out to cover most of the bust in beautiful, 3d flowers made from thread and beads. A small bit of lace rose above the bodice and, when worn, would drape itself modestly over the top of the bust making the sweetheart neckline appear more conservative than it was. The skirt itself was more or less simple, full with the aforementioned flowers down the front in a curve before meeting the black velvet hem of the skirt. Secreted around the skirts where only Mari knew the openings, were several Kwami-sized pockets. “What does everyone think?” Mari asked the room, and all of the Kwami’s looked it over, giggling with delight over the pockets and giving their approval. “We won’t be able to take everyone, but other than Tikki and Sass, who wants to come with us?” Surprising Marinette and Luka, Plagg moved forward. “I know he can’t really wield me since we don’t mesh well, but do you think you could take the ring with you? I think I’m supposed to go.” “What do you mean Plagg? You haven’t wanted to be active other than saying hello and eating some camembert since Adrien decided he needed a break away from all this?” Marinette asked, raising an eyebrow at the Kwami. “Something is different. In you two, especially scales over there.” Plaggs eyes narrowed at Luka. “I think my kitten is in this city, and you two have met him.” Luka and Marinette grinned at each other before confusion took over their faces again. “But what does that have to do with the gala?” “I can do some recon if I’m there.” “Alright then, that’s one for me.” Mari laughed and put a little clip with a black cat on the end on the edge of one of the pockets. “There are 5 in total not counting Tikki, and Luka can only carry another two besides Sass.” In the end, it was decided that Mari would have Plagg, Mullo, Trixx, Pollen and Nooroo in addition to Tikki. Luka ended up with Wayzz, Duusu and Sass of course. The others weren’t interested in going to the party and would rather hang out in the box or around the house.

***

Damian sighed and ducked around a column to get a moment to himself cursing the nosy people at the party in various languages. In his brief moment to himself, he began to notice that he wasn’t just feeling his own annoyance. Frowning in concentration, he turned to scan the ballroom, spotting them near the stage, talking to Jagged Stone of all people. He focused on them, and tried to be heard by just them across the ballroom. ‘I didn’t know you would be here.’ Both Parisians jolted, and looked around, spotting him in his little hiding spot. ‘Is there a reason you’re hiding instead of saying hello?’ Damian could hear the amusement in Lukas' voice. Both of his soulmates looked away and just quietly stepped away from Jagged, making it look like they were talking amongst themselves. ‘Yes, people are too nosy for their own good and they will ask more questions than I am prepared to answer.’ ‘Damian, we owe nobody an explanation for saying hello.’ Marinette chided gently. ‘Besides, Luka and I have mastered the art of getting people to leave us alone with just a look.’ ‘If you say so. Give me a moment.’ Damian straightened his jacket and made it seem like he’d been adjusting his wardrobe as he left the pillar. “There you are, I wanted to introduce you to someone.” Damian held back a grimace and turned to his Father. “Those camping trips I take once and a while? This is the man I go with.” Incidentally, the person Bruce was pointing to was Jagged himself. “Hell of a time getting away for both of us, but SO worth the quiet.” Jagged grinned and held out his hand. “By camping, Brucie means we go to my cabin in the mountains and sit around the fire pit complaining about life. Pleasure to meet you at last, I’ve heard a lot of good things about you.” “Thank you sir, it’s nice to meet you.” Damian’s smile in return was a bit forced, but thankfully Mari and Luka came to the rescue. “Someone interesting, Jagged?” Marinette asked as they walked over. ‘How much do you want us to say, Damian?’ Marinette added silently, her eyes concerned over how stiff he was and how tightly he was holding his emotions. Damian relaxed slightly, his fake smile relaxing into something a little more neutral but real. ‘I am alright. I will explain to the others later, but perhaps if we can get a quiet moment with my Father?’ Both Luka and Marinette raised an eyebrow at the fact that he’d left out that he was a Wayne before but took it in stride. With little more than a glance between them, Luka put a gentle hand on Jaggeds arm, and pulled the man away, asking him a couple questions about the tour they’d just finished. The man was bewildered, but Luka and Marinette planned things behind his back all the time when they felt it necessary, so he didn’t do more than give Damian and Marinette a questioning look as he was led away. “That was.” Damian commented out loud, shaking his head. “Surprisingly easy for you two.” Marinette laughed, “We’d been working together before we knew, so it took little time to figure it out. Now, Luka pulled Jagged away so the three of us could have a private word.” She turned to Bruce, glancing around for listening ears. “We happened to be seated on the plane next to Damian and, well.” She gestured between them. “I’m afraid you will have to elaborate, Ms. Dupain Cheng.” Bruce narrowed his eyes at the two of them, his face visibly confused. “What she is referring to, Father, is that they are apparently my bonded.” Damian explained. “Both of them.” He added after a moment’s silence. ‘You will explain the work you did together?’ He asked Marinette silently. ‘Soon enough, it’s a rather long story.’ Marinette’s face didn’t even change when she answered, and she started talking to Bruce over the end of her own sentence. “Luka and I had known each other for years before we found out our bond, and we’d always known that there was supposed to be a third for us. However, as we were in Paris, and Damian was apparently here, that obviously made it so that we didn’t meet until on the airplane here.” “And how did you figure it out? Not that I’m not happy for you three, but I know my son, and he tends to be reluctant to even speak to strangers.” Bruce was fishing, and Damian knew it. Marinette seemed to be able to tell too, as she was unphased by his question. “Easy, he was exhausted and fell asleep on the plane leaning on Luka. When Luka needed to move and was panicking because he didn’t want to wake up Damian, he was obviously exhausted and seemed comfortable where he was, Damian responded to his silent monologue about the situation and Damian responded in kind.” Marinette giggled, mentally nudging him when she made an edit to preserve his dignity. ‘Thank you for not going into detail.’ Damian rolled his eyes and smirked. “I had thought I’d talked to him out loud, and promptly fell back to sleep, when they woke me again shortly before the flight was over, and informed me that I had not -in fact- spoken out loud.” He then surprised both his father and himself by reaching over to put a hand on Marinette’s shoulder. “They were kind enough to give me time to process and after I gave them my phone number, texted me only to give me theirs and let me process on my own after that.” “To be fair, we passed out and slept till almost noon after we texted you, so it wasn’t restraint on our parts, just that we were too tired to stay up anymore. Especially since we didn’t sleep on the plane.” Marinette laughed dryly. “That’s an eight hour flight.” Bruce commented in shock. “You two were awake the whole time?” “Well yes, we hadn’t been up all that long anyway, and with Damian sleeping against Luka, he wasn’t sure if Damian would be offended if he woke up to a sleeping man holding him. Luka’s a cuddler and even if Damian started it he didn’t want to do anything that would make him uncomfortable.” Marinette shrugged. “If he was uncomfortable, why did he not simply move me to not be leaning on him anymore?” Damian asked, having realized that the only time he’d been moved was when Luka got up for the bathroom. “One, the only discomfort he had was not something that moving you would have solved, and two, we did.” She sighed, shrugging. “Every time he shifted you to be sitting upright, you just grabbed onto his arm and put your head back on his shoulder. And when he had to get up he tried a little harder and you got grumpy, but when he sat back down you were right there again. You were practically in his lap.” “And how many people saw this?” Damian asked with an internal groan. “If it gets put on the internet, I will never hear the end of it from the heathens.” “I think Luka and I were the only ones to notice, most everyone else was asleep.” Marinette reassured him. ‘I do have a couple photos and plan on one of them being your profile pic on my phone later.’ This was added as a teasing whisper in his mind and he internally groaned again. Luka broke into the conversation, ‘You have two guys inbound, tall, one of them is slender but muscled, the other slightly shorter and stocky.’ He added a look at where they were and what they looked at. “Grayson, Todd, what did you want?” Damian asked dryly as soon as they stepped close enough for him to hear their footsteps. “How did you do that, Demon Spawn?” Todd demanded as all three people turned to face the men who’d walked up. Marinette stiffened at the nickname, obviously offended at the nickname. ‘It’s alright, he says it because he cares.’ Damian reassured her, sending soothing emotions to her and Luka who’d been walking over as this was said. “I don’t feel like answering that question right now, Todd, but why did you come over here, this was a private conversation.” “Why did you and B need a private word with Jagged’s niece?” Grayson asked, frowning and looking between Bruce and Damian like he could figure out their secret. “That’s a conversation for home, Dick.” Bruce sighed. “And that’s when we decide to tell you, but it’s just something we needed to talk about before moving forward.” He glanced at Luka over Marinette’s shoulder, nodding at him to acknowledge that he’d walked back up. “Can you please not call her his niece? It’s rather awkward at this point.” Luka commented, putting his arms around Marinette’s waist. “She’s my soulmate, he’s my dad, it’s weird, you know?” That caught everyone’s attention, including Damian. “Wait, you’re Jagged’s son?” Bruce sputtered, his face astounded. “The way he talked about you, I figured you were like ten. Not an adult that was touring with him. He also didn’t introduce you as his son.” “I know, I didn’t grow up with him. My mom raised me and my sister, I didn’t really have any contact with him until I was a teenager.” Luka shrugged, “Doesn’t make it any less weird when he calls my soulmate his niece.” “Excuse you, I claimed her before you two even met.” Jagged laughed loudly, causing half the ballroom to look to see who was being so loud. “I think that gives me the right to keep calling her that.” “It’s still weird.” Luka shot back, shaking his head and leaning into Marinette’s hair. ‘This is why I pulled him away, he’s so loud about everything that the whole ballroom would know if he’d been part of it. You said you’d get made fun of if certain people found out.’ Damian smirked, looking down slightly, ‘Thank you, Luka.’ “Anyway, Luka, Marinette, these are two of my other sons, Jagged I’m sure you remember Dick and Jason?” Bruce pointed to each one in turn. “Wait, why does Damian call them by other names then?” Marinette wrinkled her nose a bit, trying to figure it out. “Damian… Has his own way of doing things. I’m surprised he doesn’t call you two by your last names.” Bruce admitted. “We never told him them.” Luka shrugged calmly, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Okay, I’m confused, how do you all know Damian?” Dick asked, crossing his arms as Tim came to investigate what was going on. “For the love of… Short answer, they met on the plane here, the rest of it we will talk about at a later time and place, when Damian wants to share. That is the end of it, go back to the party.” Bruce grunted at the boys, glaring at them in annoyance while keeping the rest of his face in a neutral expression that he’d practiced for years. “Alright, alright, we’re going.” Jason threw up his hands and grumbled about people being touchy as he walked away. “The one day he’s not in a grumpy mood he has to irritate the rest of us.” Damian clicked his tongue in irritation and shook his head as Dick and Tim also drifted away with shrugs and curious looks thrown at the Parisians. “Well, why don’t you guys enjoy the party, we can talk soon. After I’ve had a chance to wrangle the whole family into not bothering the heck out of Damian over everything.” Bruce gave a small, slightly sarcastic smile and then softened. “Glad things are good though. I’m happy for you.” He patted Damian on the shoulder and walked away to join Jagged who was now talking with a few women by the refreshment table. “So… I take it he approves?” Marinette asked. “Yeah, I think he does.” Damian had the urge to hug his soulmates, but he contented himself with sending as much warmth and happiness to them through the bond as he could.

[artxyra]

Healing Gotham | Part 1

Prologue 

Tim was having an off day. At first he had thought it was due to him surviving off of weeks’ worth of caffeine, but that was not it—not it at all. When Tim had first arrived at Wayne Enterprise, all of its employees were having a rush. Paperwork was thrown around, gather, shredded within seconds of each other. The young co-CEO couldn’t find it in him to care enough until it was lunchtime. An older employee was going around collecting NDA’s from all the new employees—like that wasn’t an everyday experience. Tim had half the brain capacity to contact Bruce for information, and yet he doesn’t do it.

Then Tim returns to the manor, cars from his extended siblings, and family members parked within the gates. Once again, this was not an unusual sight for the coffee addict. Well, it wasn’t an unusual sight until he stepped into the manor.

On one of the couches sat Steph, Cass, and Damian all looking to the people on the other side of the room. Kate stands leaning against the window waiting for the shoe to drop. Tim didn’t know where to sit. He only had two options: sit beside the mess of his older brothers or sit where there was the least amount of space next to his other siblings.

Finally taking in his environment, he notices something scary. Jason and Dick weren’t in their usual moods aka brooding and dramatic but on the verge of a massive mental breakdown. Jason was clutching his hair staring down at his lap repeating the words, “She’s going to kill me” as if it was the end of the world. Dick was mimicking the words with “Not if she kills me first, I’m too young to die”. This was such a shock, that Tim had to take a long sip of coffee to make sure it was true, and even then he had to pinch himself as a reminder that he was awake.

“Master Tim, the amount of caffeine you are consuming is terrible. Perhaps taking a rest would help.” Alfred offers with little room to negotiate, but Tim swears he is fine to which the family butler did not believe. “Uh-huh…” Taking the thermos out of Tim’s hand, the young co-CEO is left with nothing.

“You’re seeing this too, right? Tim asks his siblings that weren’t in the Wayne family as long as the older two. Steph is simply recording the nature of their situation—probably blackmail material for her and Barbara. Cass simply examines her older siblings wondering what has gotten into their heads. She was sure that Bruce was internally panicking based on his fingers tapping against his suit jacket and constant inching to the couch. Looking beside her, it was obvious that Damian hates being out of the loop and was moments away from exploding. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to sit beside Damian for this family meeting.

“What has gotten you three so worked up?” Kate asks from the safety of her position. Watching the three break down may be fun and all, but she had a life to live also outside of her cousin’s BS.

“Master Bruce now would be the best time to explain our situation,” Alfred suggests coming back into the room with a tray of teacups and a pot of tea. The butler knows the family is going to need it after dropping a bomb like this to the newest Waynes.

As much as Alfred was right, Bruce knew he couldn’t keep this hidden. He can already tell that Damian was seconds away from stabbing Dick or Jason for being in such an off-putting mood. Tim would be forever confused until he gets a good rest, Cass may like having someone other then him to talk to, and Steph—well Steph will just be Steph.

Bruce was so deep in thought that he didn’t acknowledge the peak of Jason’s and Dick’s mental break down.

“She’s going to kill me…I would rather face the Joker than be on the receiving end of her anger.” Jason finally speaks something than the mantra he has been chanting for the past hour.

“Here’s how she’ll do it, kill Bruce, then me, and then you. Alfred’s safe because it’s Alfred.” Dick adds pointing to each person he has mentioned, furthering the family’s confusion.  Kate, on the other hand, received the message loud and clear and end up bursting into laughter.

“Good to know you find humor in our incoming deaths, Katie,” Dick says pouting with arms crossed against his chest.

“What is Kane laughing about, Father?” Damian asks with a dangerous intent beneath his words.

“In just a couple of days, the Manor Wayne is welcoming an old visitor…my sister… your aunt.” Bruce finally speaks with a heavy sigh. It was if he was preparing for the mental battle this family is about to go through.

“Sister?” “Aunt?” “What?” Various amounts of reactions echo across the room. Every one of his children that had no clue about the oldest Wayne’s sister was just given a wake-up call.

“Yes, I have a sister. She’s my younger sister, and she’ll be staying at the Manor until she finds herself her own place, and this is if she decides to move to Gotham permanently.” Bruce then adds.

“You mean she’s staying here?” Damian cries out, he already hates the fact that most his siblings typically stay in and out of the manor, but to have a new resident just screams trouble.

“Yes, which also means we all need to keep our nightly activities on the down-low. Marin Etta has no idea that I am Batman or that Dick and Jason were Robin, and I like to keep it that way. This means Jason, no bringing anything related to the Gotham Underground, Dick you do what you’ve always done. The rest you better be on your best behavior.”

“Well this is the best news; I haven’t seen Mars since the wedding and that was five years ago.” Kate pushes herself off the wall and goes to hug Bruce. “Call me when she arrives, it will be nice to have a girls’ trip or something.”

“Katie…” Bruce sighs but the look on his cousin’s face says otherwise and it was best to leave this alone. “I will.”

Once Kate was out of the room, Damian loudly growls. “I don’t like this.”

“For once I agree with the Demon Spawn,” Tim says, though in Tim’s mind he wasn’t sure what was happening. His brain acknowledges Kate leaving but the moments before seem like a dazed.

“Tim, you okay?” Steph asks as the person in question sway. “Better yet when was the last time you slept?” She receives no answer from the in and out of the conscious male.

“Why are we just now hearing about this so-called sister.” Damian questions as if he was the only person sane in the household—which he’s not. It’s not like he’s trying to gain as much information about this aunt of his so that he could look her up and do a background check. That is totally what he will be doing.

Bruce, seeming to ignore Damian’s underlying intent, sighs and reply with, “She and I had a fall out when Jason died, and we barely speak. This is the first time in a while that she’ll be back.”

“Sounds like a you problem.” Cass murmurs under her breath evading all the glances her way. It’ll be nice to have seen someone other than her adopted family, but at the same time just how will this new person fit into their family.

“Better yet why do Grayson and Todd know about her while the rest of us don’t?” Damian asks gesturing to his other siblings. “You have no photos of the woman, so why must I believe that you have a sister.” From this Bruce could feel a migraine coming in the longer this goes on.

“Look, Little D, Mari is like a sister or a mother figure to Jason and I. There are reasons outside of this room as to why she is so well hidden. You know that room that Bruce forbids anyone from going into?” Dick replies instead of Bruce. Both he and Jason need to wrap up this conversation to prep for their incoming deaths by Mari. He was definitely sure that Bruce was about to do the same and Mari-proof the manor’s access to the Batcave.

“Na’am,” Damian says begrudgingly.

“That’s Mari’s room and will forever be her wing until she no longer needs it.” Dick finishes off his statement, which clearly did not do anything for the youngest Wayne. He then turns to Jason who was in less of a panic but in more of a defensive planning stage. “C’mon Jaybird, we have lots of pre-death planning before Sunshine returns to the Gotham.”

“Once again, I rather die by the Joker than by her, B-man you owe us so much for this,” Jason states before walking out the living room with Dick following behind.

Bruce sighs heavily and returns to his remaining children, well those that are still awake. Tim had passed out and will most likely be for the time being.

“Father…”

“Not now Damian. I will answer the rest of your questions later. I have a sister-proofing mission to handle.” With that Bruce takes his leave.

“This family can never be normal could it?” Steph wonders as she picks up Tim and places him over her shoulder.

“I agree with you on that. Need a hand?” Cass responds looking at the failing form of Steph’s body as she lugs Tim over to the entranceway.

“Nope, I’m fine,” Steph replies before she and Tim disappear into the shadows of the manor.

“I still think this is a bad idea,” Damian states crossing his arms and taking his leave also.

Cass stares at the leaving figure of her younger brother and shakes her head. She knows that Damian would not leave this alone until he hits rock bottom. Let that be her mysterious aunt herself or Bruce making his word-final.

A couple days later at the Gotham City Airport, a woman with a concave bob hairstyle stands outside the pickup area with her three suitcases next to her. Bing. She looks down to see the name Alfred popping up against the screen.

“Yes Alfred, I’m here… I’m still at the airport. No, you don’t need to give me a—” She pauses allowing the Wayne family butler to reply. “Alright, I’ll see you in a few.”  With that, she ends the conversation and places the phone in her back pocket.

This person is nonother than Marin Etta Martha Wayne or as the people in Paris, France calls her Marinette Martha Dupain-Cheng Couffaine.

Part 2 >>

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[jawritter]

The Arrangement

Part 9

Summery: You are a young girl that was raised in a small church in Dallas, TX. One of the only churches left in the state that still practices arranged marriages. When your betrothed ran off to California you thought you'd escape the fate you were trained for ever since a small child. Now upon the death your parents your fate seemed to be inescapable as he's returned, and is ready to take you as his bride.

Book Warnings: Arranged marriage, loss of virginity, smut, unprotected sex, angst, language, suicide attempt, battles with anxiety, struggles with mental illness, age gap (about 11 years), I think that’s it, chapters will have warnings of their own!

Chapter Warnings: Angst, Jared is an asshole in this fic, but He has his reasons, language, insecure reader, sheltered reader, scared reader, protective Jensen, I think that’s pretty much it.

Word Count: 3106

A/N: This book is a book about Christian and church based arranged marriages, I would like to take this moment to say that I DO NOT have ANYTHING against the Chirstian faith, and mean absolutely no harm to anyone! Especially Jensen’s family! This is a complete work of fiction, and should be treated as such!

Beta’d by the amazing @deanwanddamons who was awesome enough to do all this for me! It was a lot of work, and she deserves all the praise for it!!

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Reader

Want More? Check Out My Masterlist!!

***MASTERLIST***

***SERIES MASTERLIST***

It was a quiet ride over to Jared's house. 

Even though it wasn't that far from where Jensen and yourself were staying, it seemed like the drive over took forever, and then didn't last long enough all at the same time. Your stomach did nervous flips the whole way there, and your mind traveled to the worst scenario over and over again.

What if Jensen's friends hated you? What if it angered Jensen that they didn't accept you? What if he wanted to take you back to Dallas because you weren't good enough to fit into his lifestyle?

You didn't know how to do this. You didn't know how to function outside of the church world that you grew up in  with your family.This was all new to you. So far Jensen had been more patient with you than you expected him to ever be, but you didn’t   know how much more slack he was willing to grant you. 

He had only tried to have sex with you once  since you where married, which made you think he must not have been that impressed with you. 

Sure, the day after your wedding night, he’d taken a shower with you, and his hands weren’t shy about wandering, but he said he didn’t want to hurt you, because he knew you had to be sore.

Then there was your little interruption this morning, effectively putting a halt into your extracurricular activities. 

Other than that, he’d not really shown any interest in touching that way, aside from cuddling.

Needless to say, you had a whole lot of insecurities going on right now.  Anxiety that Jensen didn't  know that you fought against gnawing away at the corners of your consciousness. You focused on breathing as you stared at the scenery flying by you out of the car window. 

Austin wasn't quite as big as Dallas, but it was much more appealing. It was livelier almost, less businesslike. It had  its own little personality centered around art and a culture that fascinated you. 

Turning off the main road, Jensen began to make his way up the long driveway that would inevitably lead you to the front of Jared's house. Closing your eyes you started to count backwards, and focus more on your breathing to calm you down . You hadn't noticed that your hands were visibly trembling, but Jensen had. 

Reaching over from the driver's seat, he grabbed one of your hands that you had folded in your lap and squeezed it, making your eyes snap open. He'd stopped the car in front of a large, beautiful house with a well manicured lawn, and grounds surrounding it. 

"Hey, everything okay? Are you feeling okay?" he asked, eyes searching you. 

He looked genuinely worried about you, but you couldn't trouble him with your anxiety issues, so you shoved it down even though you felt that familiar feeling of the tightening in your chest, and smiled at him. 

"Yeah. Just nervous." you tell him. 

Pulling you as close to him as he could in the car, he pecks you on the check, causing a blush to rise up to where his lips had just been, and sending a warm feeling all the way through your body, effectively driving away some of the anxiety and fear. 

"Everything is going to be just fine. We don't have to be here long, they just want to meet you. They're a little worried about me. I divorced Danneel and then appeared with you. That's not exactly something normal people do, you know." 

You nodded your head and didn't say a word. That's what you were worried about. You'd been so secluded for so long that you really didn't know how to act like 'normal' people, or at least normal as they classified it. 

Jensen opened his mouth to say something else, when a hand reached up and knocked on the driver side window making you both jump. 

"Jared, you scared the shit out of me." Jensen yelled, jerking the door open, and looking up at the extremely tall man with long hair and a beard oddly resembling Jesus.

Jensen walked around the car as you opened the door, and took your hand as you got out of it, shutting the door for you as the tall man approached the car.

"Jared, this is my wife,Y/N. Y/N, this is my best friend Jared, and that little woman hiding behind him over there is his wife Gen." 

"Hi", was all you could manage in a quiet voice, looking down at the ground more than making eye contact with either of the two people in front of you. You wanted desperately to hide behind Jensen’s tall form, but you knew that wouldn’t be exactly acceptable behavior, and you didn’t want to make your husband look bad. 

"Hi Y/N, It's nice to finally meet you!!" Gen said, running up and pulling you into a hug you didn't expect, but returned after a moment. Jared only nodded at you, then turned the conversation back to Jensen that you didn’t  hear. Your nerves were too high to pay that much attention, but you were pretty sure they were talking about a car of some sort that Jensen was supposed to be getting.

"So, are you guys going to stick around for dinner tonight? It should be ready in about thirty minutes! We're having enchiladas Jensen!!" Gen said, bouncing over to him, throwing her arm and round his neck like they'd always known each other. 

You'd be a liar if you said you didn't feel more than a little bit out of place, and you weren’t sure how you felt about this stranger , just running up to Jensen and throwing her arms around his neck. You were always taught to keep your distance from married men.

"Sure, how can I turn down free food." Jensen said, giving Gen a wink, and a pang of jealousy slapped you right in the gut when he did so. She seemed totally unaffected by his actions, smacking him in his chest with her hand before walking off into the house.

"Where are the kids?" Jensen asked Jared who was watching you closely, but still hadn't addressed you directly. 

"They are with my parents for the weekend. Why don't you guys come inside?" he said, leading the way into the large, very well and tastefully decorated house. 

As you followed the men into the sitting room, your fingers laced with Jensen's, staying as close to him as possible, but keeping quiet and your head down. 

You both sat down on the little leather loveseat in the room across from the couch that Jared sat down on. Jensen pulled you close to him and wrapped your arm tightly around you.

Gen appeared with a tray of beers and a bottle of wine with two glasses on it, putting it down on the table, and pouring wine into the two empty glasses handing you one before the boys could grab a beer.

"So,Y/N., Why don't you tell us a little bit about yourself?" Jared said a little louder than he had to in the small space, making you look up from the glass in your hand at the man sitting across from you as Gen took a seat next to him.

"There's not a whole lot to tell." you tell him in a quiet voice, and that wasn't a lie. Your whole life has revolved around the church, and your family. You had neither anymore. Jensen had moved you to Austin, so the church was out, and you lost your family.

"Oh come on. There's got to be something. Hobbies, interests? The reason why you jumped up and agreed to  marry a man that's 11 years your senior?" he said, a little sharply. 

You looked at Jensen a little panicked, and Gen grabbed Jared's arm, giving him a stern look. 

Jensen pulled you tighter into his hold, before looking over at his friend. 

"Y/N wasn't raised like you were Jared. She doesn't quite know how to respond to your question, or your demeanor for that matter." 

He took your wine glass from your hand that you had yet to take a drink from, and sat it on the coffee table in front of you.

"Y/N and I were in the same church. We were supposed to be married when she turned 18. By the time she turned 18, I was already in California, and had left the church. She doesn't know life outside of that place, and her family. She doesn't understand speaking so directly to her unless you are  her father, husband, or pastor. She doesn't drink.She has grown up highly sheltered. I'm not saying that, that is right; though I am asking you to mind your tone of voice with my wife. She's still learning and adjusting to life away from that place, and I expect you to treat her with the same respect as you show me, as well as being a little patient."

Jared looked down at this lap for a moment like a scolded child. Jensen definitely had the whole alpha male personality that other men seemed to pick up on right away. You didn't know if it was the deep tone in his voice, or that even though he was thin he was solid. His broad chest and shoulders made him look like a force to be reckoned with, and if he wanted to, he could hurt someone. 

"I'm sorry.I'm just worried about you man, you know that." Jared said, directly addressing Jensen now. 

"Like I told you on the phone, there is no need to be worried. Y/N didn't come looking for me to take advantage of my money, or become famous. I went looking for her after I found out what Danneel did to me. I wanted to do what I should have done all those years ago, and marry the woman I was meant to marry, so that's what I did. If you don't want to understand that, or have a problem with it, that’s your own affair, but you will not take your misunderstood feelings out on my wife Jared, I won't allow it. Respect my wife as you do me, and if you call yourself my friend, you will respect my decisions." 

Jared shook his head, glancing between you and Jensen. Gen was watching you closely not saying a word. 

"I'm sure the food is almost done. Y/N, would you like to come help me make up a salad and get the plates ready?" 

You definitely wanted an excuse to get away from Jared, and out of the tense atmosphere. Cooking and place setting was something you could do, and knew how to do it well, so you looked up and Jensen for permission. 

He nodded his head to you, and loosened his grip on your shoulders as Gen stood, and you followed her into the expansive kitchen, grateful to be away from the tenseness of the room you were just sitting in.

Jensen's POV:

"The fuck is wrong with you? Why did you attack her like that? She has said nothing to you, nor has she done anything to you.There's no reason for you to be so harsh towards her." Jensen said, taking down the rest of his beer in one swig.

"Sorry Jay, I just don't trust her. Her family probably just sent her here to milk...."

Jensen threw his hand up to stop Jared in his tracks.

"Jared!! That's enough! Her families dead. They died two days before I went to claim her. This was my choice, my idea. I chose her. She has never done anything wrong, she's not a gold digger, and I would appreciate it if you would stop being a dick."

Jared looked over at his friend coldy, taking a deep breath, trying to keep his temper under control. 

"Jensen. Do you even have a 'real' marriage with that woman? I mean you say she's been sheltered and all that shit. I mean she probably can't even fu..." 

Jensen got to his feet, knowing where this conversation was going, and it was quickly pissing him off. He had heard all of the shit he could stomach. He thought Jared was his brother, his best friend, why was he being so hateful to Y/N when she'd never done a single thing to him?

"To answer your question, that really is none of your business. She's perfectly capable of performing in a satisfactory manner as far as a physical marriage is concerned. She and I have consummated our marriage if you must know. She's just as much my wife as Gen is yours.”

Jensen shoved his hands through his hair harshly before reaching down, and grabbing his phone from the coffee table where he’d sat it a few moments ago. 

“I've had enough of this. I'm getting my wife and going home."

Before Jared could stand to stop him, Gen poked her head around the door. 

"Okay boys, dinners ready!"

"Okay” they said in unison. 

Jensen turned to look at Jared, giving him a death glare. 

"One word out of line towards my wife, and we're leaving, do you understand me?" Jensen said. Jared looked down at the ground like a scolded child, knowing he'd overstepped his boundaries, and it was going to take quite a bit of making up to Jensen before he’d forgive me. He was just worried about his friends well being. This was all very strange to Jared. 

Your POV:

You were standing at the counter, putting the finishing touches on the salad you'd been busy making since you entered the kitchen, grateful for something to do with your hands to keep yourself busy. Placing the utensils into the salad bowl, you passed the bowl to Gen as she reentered the kitchen with you, leading the way into the dinning room.

"The boys are headed into the dinning room." she said, over her shoulder. 

She seemed like a nice person, someone you would probably be able to make friends with. Her husband on the other hand, hated you and that made your chest ache a little. 

You were shocked when Jensen had stood up for you before Gen brought you into the kitchen to help her prepare the rest of the food and set the table. 

You expected him to side with the other man in the room, though you didn't know what Jared may have convinced him about you when you were away in the kitchen just now, and it made you nervous, the fact that Jared may have made Jensen see his side of things, making Jensen want to take you back to Dallas. 

Jared and Jensen were sitting down in their chairs as you and Gen entered the room, sitting the salad down on the table. 

"Okay everyone dig in!!" she said, taking her seat next to Jared. 

You found it odd that Jensen and Jared grabbed empty plates, and started to fix their own food. You were always raised in the custom that the wives fixed the men's plates first. Then the children, then themselves. Though there were no children here tonight, it was odd to watch them fix their own food. 

Grabbing a plate of your own, you fixed a very small portion of food onto your plate, mimicking Jensen's. He had barely put any food on his plate , and seemed very tense when you took your seat next to him. It seemed he was ready to go, and didn’t want to hang around much longer, which you couldn't help but hope you were right on that account. 

Two hours later everyone had ate, and the kitchen was cleaned up between yourself and Gen. She was pretty easy to talk to, and seemed to know her way around the kitchen. Jensen and Jared stayed sitting at the table, talking tensely about Jared's new role that he'd picked up that was due to film in Austin. 

They were sitting silently when you reentered the dining room.Jensen looked up at you hopefully, and then back at Jared.

"Well, it's getting late, we need to get going. Gen dinner was great, thanks for everything." 

Before either of them could really respond to him Jensen had grabbed your hand, and started making his way toward the door. 

"Well it was nice to meet you Y/N! Let's get together, and get our nails done some time or something." she said as you reached the porch with Jensen, his hand wrapped tightly around yours. You just smiled and nodded at her, not knowing if Jensen would be okay with that or not. 

Once you had reached the car, Jensen opened the door for you, and you slid inside. You were so glad for that to be over. You could tell that didn't go as planned for Jensen. He was hoping Jared would have accepted you, and for some reason he obviously did not. 

Once he was back on the main highway headed toward home, he looked over at you and took your hand once again in his. 

"You okay, sweetheart?" 

"Yeah, I’m okay, I'm sorry your friend doesn't like me." you said quietly, looking down, ashamed into your lap, hoping and praying that Jensen wasn't too angry with you.

"Don't worry about him, he will get used to you. This is just all new to him." 

Picking your hand up to his lips, he kissed the back of your hand lightly, eyes still focused on the road, and his shoulders tense.

"Let's get you home, get showered, and crawl into our bed and die for the night. It's been a long day." Jensen said, suppressing a yawn. You didn't realize how long you had been at Jared's; it was almost midnight, the streets in Austin much calmer from lack of traffic. 

Relief  flooded you as you looked back out the window, watching the lights of the city speed by you in a blur against the dark sky. He wasn't going to send you away after all, or at least he didn’t seem so angry that he didn’t want to sleep in the same bed as you, so maybe you didn’t mess this up to bad.

Exhaustion hit you like a freight train the closer you got to home. It has been a stressful day for you. Tomorrow you would try harder to be a better wife for Jensen. He deserved so much more than you'd been giving him, and you were determined to make him happy.

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[bytheangell]

Music of My Heart

(Read on AO3) Simon has a new set of songs to play every other week at the Hunter’s Moon now. The guitar chords are a little basic, sure, but that isn’t the important part. The important part is the fact that he’s never felt this inspired to write before, and the songs seem to flow out of him at this point.

A few people ask him where this sudden burst of inspiration comes from, and every time he shrugs and says that’s just how it works sometimes, there isn’t always a reason for it. But there is a reason, and he knows it, and the more he writes these new lyrics the more he’s certain that people are catching on to just what that reason is. Or, more accurately, who.

Clary knows, and he thinks Maia and Isabelle are starting to pick up on it, too. In fact, some nights Simon is convinced that the entirety of the Hunter’s Moon picks up on the way his gaze can’t help but land on Jace Herondale over and over, his eyes drawn to him no matter where he tries to train them elsewhere. Jace, who remains entirely unaware for two month’s worth of shows that every word Simon sings is for him.

---

Simon doesn’t mean to admit his feelings the way that he does. He always imagined it’d be something elegant, like the perfect lyric that Jace would just know is meant for him, or some grand gesture Simon might work up to like a mid-set confession or a bold kiss one of the many times Jace comes over and congratulates him on ‘bringing down the house’ during an acoustic set that 90% of the bar actively ignored. Simon often daydreams, and sometimes actually dreams, of all the ways he might finally break down and tell Jace that he likes him.

The only thing stopping him at this point is a fear that Jace already knows - because how could he not at this point - and just doesn’t like Simon back. It’s the only logical explanation for why he hasn’t said anything yet, or reacted in any way, shape, or form to what is now crossing the border from endearing to pathetic pining and adoration on Simon’s part.

What actually happens is that one night, after weeks of increasingly obvious lyrics, Jace comes up to Simon while he talks with Maia after one of his shows and says: “You know, you should write a song about me one of these days.”

Simon gapes. He can’t help it. He just stands there and gapes while Clary, who just came up beside him, starts to laugh.

“Is he joking?” Maia asks Clary, before turning to Jace. “You’re joking, right?”

“What?” Jace says indignantly, frowning. “You don’t think people would like a song about me?”

Clary and Maia share a look, and Simon has to give them credit for not telling Jace what is probably the worst kept secret in the entire Shadow World, but it hardly matters because Simon just can’t take it anymore.

“They’re all about you, you oblivious idiot!” Simon practically shouts.

“What?” Jace says, but there’s uncertainty behind the word now. “They’re… what?”

Jace sounds like a surprised owl, if owls said ‘what’ instead of ‘who’.

“ ‘Golden boy’? ‘The colors of your eyes’? ‘You said you’d let me kill you but I’d never let you die for me’?!” Simon quotes the lyrics of various songs from the past two months in order of increasing obviousness.

Simon can almost see the pieces falling into place behind Jace’s wide eyes. Well, this isn’t at all how he planned on telling him, but considering he meant for Jace to realize it long before now he’s mostly relieved to have it out of the way.

That is, until Jace repeats, “You wrote all of those for me?”

Simon should know that Jace is just stalling while his brain catches up with this sudden revelation. He should just nod, and wait, and not say anything else until Jace can at least give Simon a hint, one way or the other, how he feels about him.

What Simon actually does is shake his head, sigh, and mutter “By the Angel, I’m in love with an idiot.”

It takes Simon a second to realize what he said but when he does any exasperation he felt toward Jace a moment ago is now focused inward.

“I didn’t… I meant…” Simon stutters, panicking. Glancing back at his guitar that is sitting well out of reach by the small stage area he wonders how fast he can pack it up and run. Fuck it, he can get a new guitar. “I have to go.”

Simon’s out the back door before anyone can stop him, eternally thankful for both his vampire speed and his inability to blush. He doesn’t know why it’s such a big deal - over half of the songs are love songs, after all, so Jace would’ve assumed eventually. But there’s a big difference between inferred feelings and an outright declaration of love, and Simon crossed that line without even knowing if Jace could humor the idea of liking Simon, let alone anything more.

Simon’s phone rings in his pocket and he slows. He can ignore it, go home, and lock the door to his apartment before any of them could get close to catching up with him. He can easily avoid them for a few days, a full week until he’s due to play his next set at the bar, not that he can ever show his face around-

His phone rings again, breaking Simon out of his spiraling thoughts. Finally pulling it out of his pocket Simon freezes when he sees Jace’s name under his missed calls. Twice. He expected Clary, or maybe even Maia, to check up on him, but not him. The lights up the screen for a third time while he stands there before he finally answers.

“I’m sorry,” Simon says before Jace has the chance to even realize Simon answered this time. “Can we please pretend I never said any of that, and we can just stay friends and nothing has to change?”

“We could, but that’d make it pretty weird when I ask you out then, wouldn’t it?”

“What?” Simon asks, not sure he heard that right.

“I thought ‘what?’ was my line tonight?” Jace says, and Simon can hear the smug smirk through his tone. The mental image of it has Simon swooning a bit, and… curse Jace Herondale and his infuriating ability to be so damn suave all the time.

“There is a new movie out I wanted to see…” Simon manages in a desperate attempt to salvage what little self-respect he has left tonight.

“Alright,” Jace agrees without even asking which movie - and knowing Simon’s taste in movies that’s a gamble for Jace. He must really be serious about this. “It’s a date.”

Jace hangs up and Simon looks down at his phone in disbelief.

It’s a date.

---

Even in the dim lighting of the Hunter’s Moon Simon can see the way Jace blushes at some of his songs now that he’s really listening to the lyrics, paying enough attention to catch the meaning behind them. Simon’s particularly fond of the look Jace gets at the ‘you’d let me kill you’ line because remembering that time Simon fed on Jace only leads to newer, more pleasant memories of his lips leaving much more pleasant marks in that same tender spot.

Simon doesn’t stop writing new songs, either. In fact, they only seem to grow sappier the longer they date. He’s taken to carrying a small notepad with him all the time to scribble down lyrics and chords as they come to him, which is what he’s doing one rainy Saturday afternoon when Jace wanders over to the sofa with something in his hands.

Simon stops writing and looks up in question when Jace hesitates.

“Here,” Jace says, though he’s still clutching the paper and makes no motion to actually hand it over yet. “I know I’m hardly a lyricist or anything, but after all the songs you wrote for me, I thought you deserved one, too. Even if it’s a crappy one.”

Simon beams. “If it’s from you, then it’s perfect,” Simon promises, taking the paper Jace finally holds out for him. He notices the way Jace worries his bottom lip and fidgets with the hem of his shirt - Jace is nervous. It takes until Simon gets to the chorus to realize why, when his eyes land on three words that would make his heart stop, if it weren’t perpetually stopped.

I think my heart always knew

I loved you

Before my mind caught up

Not a moment too soon

I love you

Jace never said those words to him, even though Simon let them slip months ago. He didn’t mind - they weren’t even dating yet, of course Simon hadn’t expected Jace to jump right to falling in love, and that was fine. Neither of them brought it back up after that, and Simon hadn’t said it again. Jace knew, hell, everyone knew, so he didn’t feel the need to repeat it and make it feel like he was pushing things too fast. Simon was totally fine waiting until Jace was ready. If Jace was ever ready. Because as good as things were going lately Simon never allowed himself to get too comfortable, never wanted to assume, just in case.

Simon forces himself to read past the chorus to the rest of the song before looking back up at Jace with a small smile on his face.

“I love you, too,” Simon says, holding the paper carefully in his left hand and reaching his right up to cup Jace’s face and pull him in for a kiss. When Jace pulls away with a sigh of relief Simon quirks an eyebrow. “Did you think there was any chance I didn’t?” Simon gives a little laugh as if the idea is absurd.

Jace gives a half-hearted shrug. “You hadn’t said it again after that first time, so…”

Simon frowns. He didn’t keep saying it so Jace wouldn’t feel pressured to say it back. He never meant to give the impression he didn’t feel it anymore.

“I just didn’t want to make things weird. We’d just started dating, after all. But you should know that I absolutely, without a doubt, have loved you every single day since then,” Simon tells him. He wants to make sure Jace doesn’t doubt that now, or ever again.

“I thought I got to be the sappy one today,” Jace pouts with a pointed glance down at the paper in Simon’s hand.

Simon hums, feigning consideration and some very serious internal debate before nodding. “Alright. You get today, as long as I get the other 364.”

Jace only shakes his head. “What am I going to do with you?”

Simon, feeling particularly emboldened by Jace’s declaration of love, smirks. “You can do whatever you want with me.”

Jace opens his mouth, likely about to reply with some sarcastic quip, but thinks better of it and tugs Simon down the hallway toward the bedroom instead.

“I love you,” Jace says aloud for the first time just before they fall onto the bed. It’s the first of many times Simon hears it that day, and he’s never going to get tired of it.

---

The rest of the week Simon’s more secretive than usual about his newest song, doing most of the work while he knows Jace will be out and giving vague answers when Jace asks him about it. “It’s a surprise,” is all he’ll say. When his set rolls around Saturday Jace is in the crowd like always, but this time he’s closer to the front than he usually is, by Simon’s request. Simon wants to see every second of his reaction when he plays tonight.

“I’m starting off with a new one,” Simon says. “I didn’t write it, but I couldn’t imagine depriving the world of hearing it, either. I hope the original lyricist doesn’t mind.”

Simon begins to play a melody he wrote to go with Jace’s lyrics. By the first line, Jace recognizes it for what it is, and-- okay, maybe this is a mistake because Simon swears he can see the hint of tears in Jace’s eyes by the chorus, and yeah he was going for the sweet surprise factor but he hadn’t quite anticipated this. By some small miracle, Simon makes it through the song without his voice breaking or forgetting any of the chords, and now he’s really questioning his planning here because since it’s the first song he now has to make it through four more before he can talk to Jace.

If anyone notices him rushing through the songs faster than usual, or specifically picking shorter ones that absolutely weren’t meant for tonight’s set, they don’t call him on it.

“So?” Simon asks before the guitar is even off his shoulder. Jace is already waiting for him, grinning from ear to ear.

“I can’t believe you sang it. It’s… I mean, I’m not a writer. We both know it isn’t up to your normal standards, and you didn’t even blame the lyrics on me,” Jace points out.

“Okay,” Simon starts, placing the now-free guitar on its stand. “One, of course I sang it, I love it. Two, we both know I don’t have standards, I’m not like, Bruce Springsteen up here or anything. Three, something told me you wouldn’t want that sort of ‘here’s Jace’s song’ spotlight, but if I was wrong-”

Jace shakes his head quickly. “No, ‘anonymous lyricist’ is definitely preferable. Required, even.”

Jace laughs, and Simon joins him.

“I wanted it to be a surprise, but I hope you don’t mind,” Simon says.

“Not at all. It was pretty cool, actually. I loved it,” Jace admits. “Does that mean you’re going to put the next one to music, too?” Jace asks, before realizing what he said.

“Next one, eh?” Simon asks, grinning at the implication of more to come. “I absolutely will. And the one after that, and the one after that, and the-” Jace stops him with a firm kiss which Simon admirably continues to mumble into for another second or two before giving in, the mumbles becoming a very soft moan instead before they pull away and Jace gives him a push back toward the stage.

Simon wonders how short he can make his second set, too.

---

Since Simon’s apartment is quickly becoming ‘their’ apartment, something neither of them has specifically brought up yet and are just sort of letting happen, it’s rare that Simon ends up at the Institute for any prolonged amounts of time. Sometimes he comes by to bring Jace food on days he knows his boyfriend is busy and likely working straight through any necessary breakfast, lunch, and/or dinner breaks, and sometimes he hangs around at the end of the day if they have plans but Jace is running late, just so they can walk together.

So when Jace tells him that he has something he wants to show him that he has to come to the Institute for, Simon is more than a little curious.

They agree to meet there in the early morning hours - on the whole, things are quieter around then. The night patrols are just getting back and debriefing, the daytime ones not up yet if they can help it. When Simon gets there Jace doesn’t waste any time taking Simon’s hand and leading him down a few corridors Simon’s positive he’s never been in before.

Simon isn’t sure what he expects. Maybe something weapons-related, or maybe one of the books with vampire lore they occasionally discuss that Simon mentioned more than once wanting to read one of these days? Whatever he might expect, it isn’t the large room with a grand piano situated in it. Simon stills in the doorway for a moment as Jace continues forward, hesitating only slightly by the bench before sitting down on it.

“I’ve been playing a bit more lately,” Jace says. “Composing. And I wanted you to hear this.” Jace considers those words for a moment, frowning as if they aren’t what he meant to say, before correcting himself. “I wrote this for you.”

Simon moves further into the room and goes to one of the chairs, imagining he’ll want to be able to properly relax and listen instead of hovering or pacing, both of which are things he’d definitely end up doing if he remains standing.

Jace starts to play, and as cliche as it sounds, it feels like the rest of the world outside this room melts away beyond the two of them and these notes.

It might not be his favorite thing, but Simon occasionally listens to classical music. He more frequently listens to pop or alt-rock with keyboards featured, since that’s what he plays himself when he has the inspiration for it. But this… Simon can’t remember the last time something entirely instrumental made him feel so strongly. Maybe he’s biased since it is Jace and it is for him, but Simon suspects that anyone listening in would feel the same wave of emotions.

It’s almost overwhelming, watching Jace play; his fingers glide easily over the keys to pull notes into the air that are so light, so joyful, and yet hold so much weight at the same time… and Simon knows that trying to describe them even just in his own mind isn’t doing the music any of the justice it deserves, so he stops trying and closes his own eyes instead, just listening. He sinks into the steady rhythms, feels his lips twitch up in a smile at trills of high notes, holds a breath he doesn’t really breathe when they trail off, suspended, before picking back up in that steady sway again.

Simon almost forgets where he is and what he’s doing there for a few moments after the song ends, eyes still closed, clinging to the emotion that hangs in the air. When he opens them again he sees Jace watching him intently, waiting for Simon to speak first.

Except Simon can’t speak. He doesn’t know what to say because nothing feels like a response worthy of what he just heard. Too much silence passes and Jace, growing a bit self-conscious about it, decides to speak first anyway.

“Sorry it doesn’t have lyrics… I know I’m not as good with words as you are,” Jace says. “No matter how much you keep humoring my awful lyrics by performing them.”

Simon shakes his head. “It doesn't need lyrics,” Simon tells him, his voice still quiet, processing. “It’s beautiful. It’s like I could feel every note, I-” and for someone who is supposed to be good with words, they sure are failing him just then. “-it’s beautiful,” he repeats instead.

Jace smiles and gives a small shrug. “It’s what came to me while thinking of you… what else could it be?”

Simon feels a phantom stutter of his non-beating heart at those words. He doesn’t know why - Jace has called him beautiful before, but there’s still so much raw emotion from the music that makes the confession feel that much more intimate.

Simon wonders if this is how Jace feels hearing a new song that Simon wrote, knowing it’s for him. He hopes it is.

“For someone who’s apparently ‘not good with words’, you sure know how to make a boy swoon,” Simon points out. “Hey, I bet if we combined forces we could be a musical force to be reckoned with!”

Jace frowns. “You know I’m no good at that pop stuff,” Jace points out.

“The same way you’re ‘no good with words’?” Simon reminds him with a sly smile.

“It’s different when it’s you,” Jace says. “It’s… easier when it’s you. I don’t know why,” Jace admits.

It’s impossibly endearing, Simon thinks, watching the way Jace’s features scrunch slightly at the confession. This isn’t the putting-on-a-show-suave Jace that everyone else gets, this is a Jace comfortable enough to just say what comes to mind with no reservations, a side reserved just for Simon that he cherishes more and more each day he gets to witness it.

“I know why,” Simon tells him, standing up and walking over to sit on the bench beside him. “Everything’s easier for me when it’s you, too. And it’s because I never feel like I have to try too hard, or change to fit you better. I feel like… like I can just be, and it’s enough.”

“It’s more than enough,” Jace points out.

“Again with the words,” Simon says in feigned exasperation, unable to help himself from leaning in and giving Jace a quick, chaste kiss. They break away and Jace smiles. And Simon smiles back.

They kiss again, longer this time, something soft and gentle and perfect.

Perfect because it’s them. Perfect because it’s easy.

And yeah, Simon silently agrees, it’s definitely more than enough.

[unfolded73]

Just a Day (1/1) - schitt’s creek ff

Christmas-related fluff, that’s all this is. David and Rachel run into each other and have a talk. Rated G, ~2500 words

David was focused on cookie ingredients with single-minded determination.

Clutching the hand-written list from Marcy, he squinted at the shelf in Patrick’s home-town grocery store (the store where a tiny Patrick had once thrown a screaming tantrum over being denied Froot Loops, if Clint was to be believed), looking for his prey. Spotting the brown sugar, David threw two bags into his cart and moved on to the confectioner’s sugar.

He didn’t have a pen on him, so he tried to mentally check off each item as he put it in the cart. He didn’t want to forget anything for today’s Christmas cookie-baking extravaganza, a Brewer family tradition that David would be participating in for the first time. Rose Apothecary safely in the hands of their two employees for the week, David and Patrick were taking their first Christmas off since they opened the store. Thus, here David was on a quest from his mother-in-law, shopping in an unfamiliar store for cookie ingredients.

David zeroed in on the holiday-themed sprinkles next. (“Just get more red, I have plenty of green,” Marcy had said and then immediately widened her eyes at him in a slightly panicked expression, “unless we should get some Hanukkah colors, David?”) He was so engrossed in the sprinkle options that he didn’t notice the woman staring at him from further down the aisle at first. It wasn’t until he turned to head back to the dairy case that he came face-to-face with the familiar redhead.

Without saying anything, they took each other in. He’d never spoken a word to Rachel, but he recognized her immediately from that one awful afternoon his family tried to have a barbeque to celebrate his relationship with Patrick, and later, pictures of Patrick and Rachel together that peppered the Brewers’ family photo albums. She seemed to recognize him as well, despite the brief time they’d had to take each other in.

“Marcy’s making cookies?” Rachel asked with a smirk and a gesture to his cart, as if they weren’t total strangers who only shared in common that one moment, when David learned Patrick was once engaged and Rachel learned that Patrick was gay. As if they’d already gotten the uncomfortable acknowledgements of who they were to each other out of the way.

David nodded. “Yes, she has a very ambitious list of cookie recipes.”

“Don’t underestimate her; she plans her baking like she’s planning a major military operation.” Because of course Rachel had shared some of these holiday traditions with the Brewers, how could she not have? All of these things that David was attempting to navigate on his absolute best behavior, trying to be the perfect husband and son-in-law, Rachel had already done. For just a second, he hated her for that.

“I have no doubt,” he said.

“Congrats on the…” Rachel gestured vaguely. “I heard you guys got married. And I saw some pictures on Facebook.”

David wrinkled his nose at that — not that she had seen pictures, but that there were apparently pictures from his wedding on Facebook. Probably posted by Marcy herself, if he had to guess, or maybe by one of the cousins. David had carefully edited the pictures he’d chosen to post on his own Instagram and had policed what Alexis posted as well; he hated to think what he might look like in these rogue Facebook pictures he hadn’t been aware of.

“We did, thank you,” he said. He tried to think of what else to say, but everything that occurred to him sounded patronizing.

“You don’t have to look so constipated, David. I’m over him. I moved to Toronto and I’m seeing someone else now.”

“I don’t look…” David sputtered before reining himself in. “I mean, I’m glad. That sounds… nice.”

She laughed. “Yeah, I guess it’s nice. How’s Patrick?”

Perfect. He’s a perfect husband and I can’t believe how lucky I am that we found each other. “He’s good.”

“He’s probably been grumpy over hockey lately, huh?”

He had been, because the Maple Leafs had a very bad start to the season (and the fact that David knew even that much was miraculous), but he hated that Rachel was right. “Is that the sport with the sticks?” he said, falling back on his I-don’t-follow-sports persona. Rachel rolled her eyes at him.

There was a part of David that wanted to sit Rachel down and split a bottle of wine (or two) with her and learn everything about Patrick that she knew and he didn’t. All the things that came out of that shared history they had together that David could only know from stories. But there was another part of David that rejected the very premise. The Patrick that Rachel had known wasn’t the real Patrick.

He started to wheel his cart forward again, slowly and with a tilt of his head to indicate she should walk with him. “So you’re in town visiting your family, I presume?” he asked her.

“Yeah. First time bringing the boyfriend home to meet my family, so that’s a whole thing. But we’re just doing the normal Christmas thing, you know. ”

He didn’t know, as neither his experiences with Christmas when the Roses were still rich nor his experiences in Schitt’s Creek fit into the rubric of ‘normal Christmas,’ but he assumed whatever Rachel was talking about fit into the same basic mold as his last couple of days with the Brewers. David nodded.

“This is the first Christmas we’ve been able to get away,” David volunteered. “We finally have enough staff to cover the store.” Then it occurred to him that Rachel might not know anything about the store if she hadn’t talked to Patrick since her one tragic visit to Schitt’s Creek. “We run the general store in town? We sell—”

“I know,” she said, and then averted her eyes to the rows of egg cartons they were passing, which made David stop and look at his list. He needed eggs.

“I follow you guys on Instagram. The store, I mean. I follow the store. I was just… curious what Patrick was doing for a living. And the pictures you post are pretty and sort of… soothing? So I still follow the account.”

David beamed at that as he picked up a carton of eggs and put them in his basket — he worked hard on the Instagram aesthetic for the store, an activity that Patrick occasionally roasted him for. He couldn’t wait to tell him that Rachel followed the Rose Apothecary account because she found it soothing.

Rachel reached over and picked up David’s eggs and opened the carton, scanning the contents. “You have to check and see if any are broken,” she explained. “Also, are twelve eggs enough?”

He threw up his hands. “The list doesn’t say — what do you think, should i get another dozen?”

“Yeah, get another dozen.”

He grabbed a carton, opening it and scanning the eggs for breaks the way Rachel had. “We’ve started carrying local eggs at the store,” he told her. “I didn’t want to at first, but we have a farmer who delivers them to us, and the markup on eggs is better than I thought it would be.”

“I’m glad Patrick’s happy,” Rachel said. “I know you probably don’t believe me, but—”

“In the years I’ve known him, Patrick’s never said a bad word about you, so I have no reason not to believe that you wish him the best.” He checked his list again. “I need to get butter. Marcy did put an amount here,” he said, showing Rachel the list, “but it seems patently ridiculous.”

Rachel laughed. “Four pounds? No, that’s probably right.”

“I’m going to gain so much weight on this trip,” David groaned, moving his cart again.

“Thank you for saying that, about Patrick not speaking ill of me. I worried for a while after that terrible visit to Schitt’s Creek that I’d fucked up his relationship. Especially when a long time went by and his parents didn’t seem to know anything about you guys being a couple.”

David made a weird half-laughing, half-groaning noise. “That’s a whole other long story. But no, you didn’t fuck anything up.” He began loading butter into his cart. “I almost fucked everything up by being an insecure ass about it.”

“He probably should have told you about his past, though,” Rachel said, grabbing a pound of butter for her own cart.

“Yes, well, it’s all ancient history now.” He headed toward the milk and grabbed a gallon.

“Did he ever tell you what he told me about you that day?” Rachel asked, and despite it all being in the past, David’s heart sped up, his palms getting sweaty on the grocery cart handle.

“I don’t remember. I never asked,” David said, rooted there in the dairy section, next to the half and half and the whipping cream.

“This was after he told me you guys were dating, and he gave me his official coming-out speech, I guess. And I shouted at him for not telling me before, and he said he hadn’t realized, and…” She waved her hand to dismiss that memory. “It was very hard to hear, that he’d never felt for me what I felt for him in all those years.”

“I’m sorry,” David said.

“That’s not the part I wanted to tell you. The part I wanted to tell you was that he said he’d fallen in love with you, that already he was imagining spending the rest of his life with you, even though he knew it was too soon to tell you any of that yet.” She smiled. “Since you’re married now I guess the cat is out of the bag, but still, I wanted to tell you how all-in Patrick was, even back then.”

David felt himself tearing up, and he did not want to cry in the dairy case of this grocery store, but it was a lot, hearing that. That Patrick had said he was in love with him, even back then, months before ‘I love you’ became a regular part of their vocabulary. “Thank you for telling me,” he whispered.

“I was horribly jealous of you and I hated you for a while,” Rachel said. “Sorry.”

David scoffed at that. “Oh, don’t worry about that, I’ve been hated by a lot of people in my life.”

“And for the record, you seem to be taking good care of him. I stopped hating you.”

David smirked, turning his cart back toward the baking aisle to get the chocolate chips he’d forgotten. “He takes care of me most of the time.”

“Okay, well, I’m going that way,” Rachel said, pointing over to another part of the store. “It was good to see you, David.”

“You too, Rachel. Merry Christmas.”

~*~

“Hey, do you need mfph—” David interrupted Patrick’s greeting with a kiss, a tote bag in each hand not stopping him from wrapping his arms around his husband and fusing their mouths together. As he pulled away, he saw Marcy glancing at them and smiling before she turned back to the dishes she was washing.

“Yes, I need some help bringing in the groceries,” David said.

‘Okay,” Patrick said mildly, but his eyes said he knew something was up with his husband. David set the totes he was carrying down on the kitchen table and then followed Patrick out to the car.

“Everything okay, David?” Patrick asked as soon as they were out of earshot from his mother.

“Yeah.” But then he stopped and faced Patrick as they stood at the trunk of the car. “Have I ever told you when I realized I might be in love with you?”

Patrick grinned. “I think you told me it was when I sang to you at our first open mic night.”

David put his hands on Patrick’s shoulders, his fingers working gently at the muscles underneath his sweater. “Okay, that was probably when I fell totally and completely in love with you. But there was another moment, before that.”

Patrick wrapped his arms around David’s waist. “Oh yeah?”

“Mm hmm.”

Patrick kissed him gently, just a soft peck of lips on lips. “When was that?”

“It was just a normal day at the store. You’d been helping Alexis study for a test and we had to stay late to do inventory, but I just remember looking over at you and thinking that I was falling in love with you. And then being really freaked out by that thought.”

“I wish I could remember the day you’re talking about,” Patrick said wistfully.

“It was just a day.” David gave him another kiss before disengaging from Patrick and grabbing two more bags to carry into the house. “You should call Rachel,” he blurted.

Patrick shot him a confused look. “I should what?”

“You’ve known each other your whole lives. It just seems a shame to throw that friendship away because—”

“Because I broke her heart?” Patrick said, holding the door open for David.

“She’s over it,” David said, setting the rest of his bags down. On Patrick’s raised eyebrow, he explained. “I saw her at the grocery store. She’s got a boyfriend from Toronto in town with her, apparently. Anyway, I think it would be good for you two to be friends again. ”

Patrick seemed to consider this. “Okay, I’ll call her. Maybe the four of us could go for drinks or something.”

“David, thank you so much for doing the shopping,” Marcy was saying as she unpacked and organized his haul. “Are you ready to learn to bake cookies?”

“Marcy, are you ready for the havoc I’m likely to wreak in your kitchen?”

She gave him a gentle slap on the arm. “I think I can keep you in line, David. Now let me show you how to use the electric mixer.”

David spent the next couple of hours laboring away with Marcy while Patrick went to play hockey with some of his cousins and Clint read a book by the fire. And there was a moment, later, when it struck him. He was chewing on a ginger cookie that he had made with his own hands in the warm embrace of his mother-in-law’s kitchen when his husband came in the front door, scarf secured around his neck and ruddy-cheeked from the cold, and David thought, I’m happier than I’ve ever been in my life. It wasn’t a scary thought. It didn’t portend doom they way he used to think that his rare optimistic thoughts did. Today was just a day in a long line of days with the love of his life, stretched out into the future. David brought Patrick a cookie and kissed him on the cheek and smiled.

[cadday]

Collateral  Damage - Chapter 5

Braig almost thinks last night was a dream, or a weirdly mellow nightmare. He realizes that it’s not the case when he sees the lantern sitting by his door and well of he concentrates he can feel it. The other heart sleeping in him, which is terrifyingly familiar but not all the same. None of the hearts he hosted before were so...quiet. Still he had made this choice and would have to live for it for now at least. He briefly realizes he should have thought this through better but hindsight was a bitch. 

Oddly though he honestly felt better then he had since, well since being possessed by some ancient asshole bent on fulfilling the prophecies of his absentee most likely equally an asshole master and was probably seeking the end of worlds or some bull but really just wrecked Braig’s life like he didn’t do a good enough job being a disaster.

The other presence did some strange humming, warm feeling, in agreement and he laughed a bit startled at the feeling. So the heart was familiar with the jerk who possessed him, charming, at least it agreed that the guy was a dick. 

The morning besides his new guest was uneventful. That was Master Ansem called them together to ‘introduce’ them to Isa and Lea. Which one was hilarious because they had met the twerps before, two activated the headache he got almost every day as his brain tried to not picture taller red and blue brats, and three the two brats looked like they had been caught red handed which made him wonder if they had been sneaking around again when they were offered jobs. 

Isa got stuck with Even, who began to rant about babysitting and Ienzo merely looked long suffering in his direction before heading off with them. Lea was stuck with guard duty, he doubted the kid had patience for the lab stuff anyway. To be fair Braig rarely did either, Dilan and Aeleus took more shifts with the lab work then he ever did. Which was fine by him because he had a habit of letting experiments, well, explode.

“Alright Lea, I guess we’ll do a quick round of what guard duty routine looks like. Your probably familiar with the rounds near the front gate’s though.” Hey, would you look at that full sentences. He wondered if it had anything to do with his new resident. Braig decided that was on the worry about later list too. The kid at least looked guilty for a second before he shrugged. 

“I’m an overachiever, already got em memorized.” And geeze Braig had to stop for a second and steady himself because, yeah this was going to be difficult.  Dilan frowned at him as Braig pressed a hand to his bad eye. 

‘Axel!’

‘Axel? Please. The name’s Lea. Got it memorized?’

‘Your not supposed to be here.’

‘Promises to keep, I’ll always be there to get my friends back…’

“BRAIG!” He jumps back from Dilan who is shaking his shoulder. Aeleus and Lea are gone he realizes and he frowns. Dilan is looking at him funny and he realizes his new heart friend feels kind of panicked. He blinks stupidly at Dilan and carefully drops his hand.

“Sorry, migraine. Wh…,” He looks around the room with a frown. “Where’s Aeleus and,” Axel, “Lea…” Dilan was still holding his shoulder, he wasn't talking and Braig’s head hurt so freakin much. 

“It’s fine. I’m fine. Let’s get going.” Dilan didn’t look like he believed him, which you know was fair, but slowly he released Braigs arm like he was afraid the other guard was about to collapse, which yeah that was also fair. 

“ You should let Even check you out, maybe he can give you something to help,” Braig made a disgusted face, “Or don’t and suffer needlessly and unnecessarily worry everyone around.”

“Oh come on that’s low. Fine whatever I’ll ask him. I don’t know if it will do any good but whatever.” Braig waved a hand in a dismissive manner. Dilan smirked in what he recognized as his I totally won this fight face and Braig rolled his eyes at his smug expression.

“As annoying as your voice is, I am glad you’ve regained the functionality to form coherent thoughts at the very least. I was concerned you would be forever limited to speaking like a two year old, now I see you’ve managed the language  of a three year old and offer you my sincerest congratulations on the development.” Braig snorted and swung an arm around Dilan pulling on his shoulders intentionally to bring the man down to his level.

“Hey as if. My vocabulary is way too colorful to be some ankle biters. If a kid talks like I do I’d be concerned about their upbringing.” 

“Fair as we are all so concerned at upbringing must have occurred to create you.” Dilan stood back up to his full height and Braigs hand dropped to the closer shoulder.

“Clearly I popped into existence a fully grown bastard.”

“This explains so much…” 

Aeleus and Lea came into view when they entered the garden and Aeleus was explaining post rotations to a very bored looking red head.

“Geeze Flamsilocks, you look like someone stole you ice cream.” His head gave a warning throb at the usage of the nickname and the other heart felt like it was more awake. Great he needed to try to focus like a person not having a mental breakdown. Lea scowled at the nickname. 

“Oh come on kid, maybe later you can get a tour of parts of the castle that you haven’t snuck into yet.” The kid crossed his arms and made a point of not looking at any of them.

“Geeze we were just trying to visit the girl. I don’t see what the big deal is, why doesn’t she ever come out anyway? You creeps locking up girls or something?” Lea’s hands are on his hips and he looks determined…

Axel looks so determined when he goes to try to save Roxas but he’ll fail. This is all destined to fail. It’s all destined...prophesied...stupid book, stupid box…. 

The other heart pushed at something and Braig blinked away the memories, future, thoughts, whatever, and was glad that no one noticed this time as both Aeleus and Dilan were now explaining there is no girl. Braig supposes their not completely wrong and the heart in his chest agrees. The situation is complicated and he doubts Lea would listen if he tried to explain it.

“It’s a weird game to be playing at your age isn’t it, imaginary princess you have to save from a castle.” Would you look at that the kid can turn red in the face too. 

“Whatever, you're all full of it.” Braig shrugs and Dilan and Aeleus look long suffering, but that’s normal in the long run of things.

“We’re friends so me and Isa will get her back, from wherever you hid her.” Braig stared at Lea. Lea stared back determine till he realized Braig wasn’t going to respond and he shifted nervously. Blinking slowly Braig shook his head to try to focus and grimaced at the other two guards who were watching him concerned. 

“Yeah kid. Whatever you say.”

The rest of the tour was pretty routine and Lea even being a dumb kid seemed to get the gist of it. They met up with the other apprentices for lunch and Isa was immediately glued to Lea’s side and trying to act subtle about how he looked at Lea. Ienzo made a disgusted gagging face at Braig when he noticed and he cackled because yeah the kid had a point. Even seemed to have gotten over the babysitting issue because apparently besides breaking and entering Isa was pretty much a perfect student.  

It’s weird because this has happened but not happened once already. There’s no Xehanort, and Ansem is still here. The heart experiments are still just theoretical for the most part and Radiant Garden is still a beacon of light. He keeps expecting to find Terra with the Old coots heart unconscious on patrols. He keeps waiting to feel Luxu taking control periodically till he can’t get control back and Braig is just a silent observer in his own body. He keeps waiting for the other apprentices to call him a traitor, to accuse him of crimes he didn’t, did, hasn’t, will, won’t commit. When he looks at the other’s he sometimes see’s an Ansem cloaked in red and full of hate, a closed of Even with no regards to lives, a Dilan who feels nothing but rage, a Aeleus silent and intent on destruction, a Ienzo with dark bags under his eyes and no trust for any of them anymore. He expects to see a scarred Isa, and a tear tattooed Lea. He expects to wake up and see nothing but darkness. Braig feels panic rising in his chest and he tenses in anticipation of the suffocating feeling and anxiety but then...it stops.

His heart,mind, whatever it is settles and untangles and he’s just in Radiant Garden. It takes him a minute to realize what happened and his hand absently wander’s to his chest as if he can physically touch the other presence.

‘it will be okay. we will not let it happen.’ He lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in and tries to convey the feeling of gratitude silently. It must get across because he feels warmth in response and then he assumes the heart has gone back to sleeping.  The other apprentices haven’t noticed thankfully that he was having a moment, and honestly these days he was always having a moment. 

After lunch and the rest of patrol and giving Lea a hard time just for the hell of it Braig excuses himself to turn in early. Dilan reminds him he promised to check in with Even about his head and Braig points out he didn’t ‘promise’ jack. He did agree he would see about pain med’s in the morning. So he makes to retreat to his room and is a little startled to be joined by Master Ansem. 

At first they're just walking the same way and he thinks that maybe it’s just coincidence but then he realizes that Master Ansem is keeping the same pace intentionally and he fights back a sigh. This means they're going to have a talk. He isn’t sure about what though as he definitely hasn’t blown up anything recently and they already established he’s as recovered as he’s going to get. It certainly hasn’t been long enough for Dilan to tattle on him about his headache issue. Would take like a week of not doing anything usually for the other guard to get fed up and go to Ansem to deal with his bull. 

They make it to his room in silence and Braig looks at Master Ansem expectantly but he’s only being watched with a raised eyebrow. He feels like a child whose parent is waiting for them to admit to their wrong doing, and though it hasn’t even happened yet, and will not ever, he wants to admit everything he’s done or at least his body did. But at the risk of sounding crazy he bites back the urge to spill his guts, or heart for that matter. They just stand there watching each other for what for Braig feels like a small eternity. When nothing happens he slowly turns and goes to enter his room.

“Braig, if you were in danger of some kind, from something or someone, you would tell me?” Braig turns back around and blinks stupidly in a not reply.

“I mean yeah, if it didn’t put you in danger too. Of course I would.” He feels like that’s obvious. He’s been a guard so long part of his job was dealing with danger and reporting it. Sure his reports weren’t always timely but he always finished them eventually.

“If it doesn’t put…” Ansem frowns but nods slowly like he understands something and Braig is so confused by this conversation. He feels like he is missing something important here.

“I would hope that even if it was dangerous to me that you would still consider coming to me for help. Do you understand Braig?” Frowning he shrugs but nods regardless.

“I mean I guess...Kinda defeats the purpose of having guards if I’m putting you in danger don’t you think. But sure. I gotcha.” Ansem stares at him a while longer like he’s looking for something else but then he nods seriously and turns to leave.

“I bid you goodnight then. I apologize for keeping you up.” Braig watches him go and then shakes his head in an attempt to clear his thoughts.

“Yeah you too old man.”

[little-wintry]

GHOST REPORT #2 - Shadowkeep Aftermath

((so people really liked my first Ghost Report, link here if you wanna read it, and it pretty much told the story of my Guardian, Zelun, her Ghost, Pirul, and the aftermath of what happened since Shadowkeep. First off, if you haven’t read the first one you should before you read this, and second, tons of spoilers. Without further ado, the second part of the Ghost Report.))

[Oct.11] Guardian refuses to sleep and eat. Body temperature is approx. 104.3 degrees Fahrenheit. Guardian coughs up 3.2 milliliters of blood. Appears to contain black specks. Medical checkup issued for tomorrow morning. Ikora urges Ghost to stay away from his Guardian for his own safety. Guardian briefly blacks out 4 times. Punches a doctor in the jaw as he tries to take a blood sample. Appears to be afraid of physical touch. Ikora notes this is not new but it seems amplified.

[Oct.12] Guardian sleeps briefly for 25-45 minutes at a time. Whereabouts of the Guardian’s Ghost are unknown, has not been seen in the Tower since yesterday. Attempts to contact and/or track Ghost are unsuccessful. Guardian allows Ikora to touch her shoulder, though she flinches. Guardian’s hormone levels begin to lower and return to normal, though still elevated. Allows doctor to take blood sample. Medical results yield heavy Taken and/or Hive corruption. Petra Venj, Acting Regent, notes this was an issue while Guardian was in active patrol around the Dreaming City. Eris Morn, Vanguard Agent on the Moon, notes that the Pyramid might also have an influence. Guardian is still hesitant of sleep and appears constantly alert and on edge. Ikora continues to stay with the Guardian. Guardian cries for 18 minutes during the night, supposedly after a nightmare.

[Oct.13] Guardian appears to be resting. Slept a total of 5 hours. Whereabouts of the Ghost continue to be unknown. Guardian has not spoken but it no longer crying. Guardian refuses to eat, claims feeling sick. Body temperature is approx. 102.1 degrees Fahrenheit. Guardian still appears to be suffering from shock to an extent. Guardian asks for a pin and thread and begins to try and patch up her cloak.

[Oct.14] Guardian slept a total of 14 hours throughout the day. Claimed to have a reoccurring nightmare of former Hunter Vanguard Cayde-6 and former Awoken Prince Uldren Sov. Whereabouts of the Ghost continue to be unknown. Guardian finishes patching her cloak, appears pleased. Asks where her Ghost is, asks another 3 times throughout the day. Talks privately with Ikora for 53 minutes. Guardian still refuses to eat, however. Body temperature has lowered to 100.8 degrees Fahrenheit.

[Oct.15] Guardian got 9 hours of sleep. Guardian appears to be returning to normal mental state. Guardian appears increasingly worried for Ghost. Body temperature has returned to normal, approx. 98.6 degrees Fahrenheit. Guardian thanks Ikora and asks where her ship is being held. NOTE: Watch for Guardian attempting to leave room, order by Ikora Rey.

[Oct.16] Guardian has escaped. Room was found empty. Bed appears slept in, all possessions were gone. Ship was noted leaving the Tower Hangar at 6:32am. Trajectory suggests the ship and the Guardian are heading to Mercury.

ACCESS: RESTRICTED

FORM: COMMUNICATION

TYPE: WRITTEN

SENDER: KIR, ZELUN, AWOKEN HUNTER

SENT TO: REY, IKORA, WARLOCK VANGUARD

SUBJ: Please Don’t Kill Me 

Hey Ikora, I know you’re reading this right now. How do I know? I tagged it on the end of that report. Yeah, that report. I know you’re concerned about me, but avoid stalking me, okay? Do you mind? At least acknowledge my intelligence. Tell your doctors to close their tabs every once in a while.

On a real note, you probably wanna know where I am before you sent out a whole team. I’m looking for Pirul. I know he left, and I know I upset him.

I just… I feel like I messed up. After what happened in that Pyramid… I wasn’t in the right frame of mind. I don’t know what happened to me. And I took that all out on Pirul. Hell, he doesn’t even know what happened. I was mean. I was a jerk. And I need a chance to make something right.

Thank you, Ikora. For everything you did. I thought after what happened on Mars with Rasputin I’d be able to rest. Finally take a break from slaying gods.

It never is that easy, is it?

I can still relive all those battles. The Black Heart. Crota. Skolas. Oryx. Ghaul to Panoptes to Xol to… to Uldren. I think there’s still a small part of me that just wants to be a Reefborn Awoken again. That part of me that I found during the hunt for Skolas. A small part of me that killed my Prince that day.

But… there’s been some good, I guess. I’ve gotten to see Petra for the first time in a long time. You got to see Osiris. Ana is back, Eris is back. It’s hard to see the silver lining, but at least it’s there.

I’ve always been the one running away from things. Pirul has always been the one to find me. Now I have to rescue him. I’m checking all the inner planets of the solar system, the Cosmodrome (if I can get in; nag Zavala for me please), Nessus, Titan, Io, and the whole of the Reef, including the Tangled Shore and the Dreaming City. 

Anyway, I’ll try to be in touch. And don’t worry, I have snacks. And my cloak. Please don’t kill me for leaving.

Sincerely,

Your Almost-Warlock Bastard Child

[P.S.: Pricked myself with that needle a few times sewing my cloak back up. Doesn’t Zavala know how to knit? I’ll need him to teach me a few pointers. But really, don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. If I get in trouble I’ll call you. Or Petra. You two know how to bail me out of stuff.]

ACCESS: RESTRICTED

FORM: COMMUNICATION

TYPE: WRITTEN

SENDER: REY, IKORA, WARLOCK VANGUARD

SENT TO: KIR, ZELUN, AWOKEN HUNTER

SUBJ: Be Safe

I should’ve figured. I wish I could tell you how much I panicked when I heard they couldn’t find you this morning.

I know I can’t stop you. I’ve never been able to. You may have the knowledge of a Warlock but you’ve always had the nature of a Hunter. Cayde would be proud.

All I can say is good luck in finding Pirul. I expect semi-regular check ups via various agents. And if you happen to see Asher, give him my regards. And do tell him you’re looking for your Ghost. He’ll help, I know he will.

Remember your strength, Zelun. I know you’ll persevere. Your past is not your weakness. It is your greatest strength.

Regards,

Your Warlock Mother

[P.S.: You’re not a bastard. And do check in with Petra. She’s been worrying.]

[booksbookandmorebooks]

Hello my lovelies, I hope you’ve had a fab week! Today I’m starting off by jumping on the band wagon of the crazy popular Netflix show “YOU”. Now this show was one I had been anticipating for so long after seeing the teaser trailers and it looked so up my alley, a little creepy and intense but still stylised. A real thriller you can sink your teeth into and it did not disappoint. This show was everything I expected and more which is why when I went to my local book store and saw it sitting there, I couldn’t ignore it. I just had to pick it up.

So here I am today to talk about the differences between the Netflix adaptation and the book. I know a lot of my posts tend to be actual book reviews but due to the popularity and hype around this book and show I thought it would be time wasted as there are so so many posts about it recently. So, I thought I’d compile a quick list of differences between the two platforms for the quick readers. I hope you enjoy this blog post and if so make sure to come back and check out my other book reviews!

                                                                              SPOILERS AHEAD.

Time line differences:

The progression of Joe and Bec’s relationship is a lot slower in the book, while the show is almost shot for shot when showing events in the book, their relationship is always an almost. For example, at the time of the Ikea visit they aren’t together in the book, this was a ploy Bec used to manipulate Joe into taking her places and putting her furniture together, while in the show they had already been established for a while and even engaged in some physical activities while there.

At the Dicken’s fair Bec visits with her estranged family, Joe and Bec again, are not together. A lot of the book hinges on the fact that Bec plays and toys with Joe through almost the entirety of the story. It’s cruel really, she spends weeks with him staying over, engaging in relationship-like activities, making him feel special and loved and then will ghost him and flake on him for no reason which in turn intensifies his creepy/ obsessive behaviour.

Character traits:

Bec plays Joe around a lot more in the book as I state above. She constantly cancels plans for Peach, Chyna or Lynn as they ‘need’ her more or because she’s sick. Without fail, there is always something wrong, or something she can’t get out of. She lies about plans and takes days sometimes weeks to reply to him, which is especially cruel in my eyes as she tends to do this after playing the perfect doting girlfriend. Bec in the show is depicted as a bit of a lost and confused soul, someone we are made to feel empathy for yet In the book she is extremely manipulative, a user and a cheat. A very unlikable character towards the end. 

Suspicions:

When in the show we are introduced to peach initially it is very obvious she is not only overly protective of Bec but also highly suspicious of Joe and this suspicion we only see intensify as she becomes paranoid of things that seem ‘too good to be true’ regarding their run ins and ‘fated meetings’. Establishing her as the villain/enemy of Joe quite early on. While in the book peach never catches wind of Joe's stalker-ish and violent tendencies, her irritation towards Joe (hatred if you will) simply stems from an over bearing and protective friendship.

Joe’s childhood:

Joe’s childhood is kept very hush hush and yes, in the book it’s not talked about in explicit detail but we do read in the form of a few throw away comments about how he had no mother figure growing up and was left with a drunk abusive father who had no time or care for his son.

We are only provided with one example in the book about the neglect Joe faced while growing up. He talks about the time when he was locked in the cage as punishment by Mr. Mooney, the shop owner, for three days and upon returning home Joe’s father was completely unaware his child had been missing at all and expressed no concern for his well being

Confrontation:

The Dicken’s fair is where we are introduced to Bec’s estranged and dysfunctional family, yet Bec is fully aware Joe has followed her and she spots him. Instead of the fire filled confrontation we see in the show, she doesn’t confront him and he flees from the scene in a fit of panic and drives back to his home where Bec bombards him with calls and texts desperate to talk to him. He is sure it’s to confront him about his behaviour and we see through his inner dialogue he is certain the jig is up and she will brand him a loser when in actual fact she ignores the fact he followed her across the country and just wants him to keep her company and listen to her moan about her hard life. Another reason I find Bec insanely irritating.

The reveal:

The box that Bec finds at the end of the book that results in her learning about Joe’s true identity contains her belongings but he had kept no keepsakes of his other victims like it shows in the Netflix adaptation. No teeth or phones or anything tying him to the other deaths. Only the stuff he has stolen from Bec’s apartment over the passing months. including the most disturbing item in my eyes, a used tampon, that Joe justifies as normal because it’s a plastic one. (I just can’t even)

Deaths:

When we finally see Joe's intense and violent side come out with unsuspecting Benji we were all shocked. The show seemed to go from 0 to a 100 real fast. Which if you felt was a little out of the blue, there’s a reason. The show clearly changed the interaction between Joe and Benji for artistic licence. We know this because in the book Joe only sedated Benji with a drink and then drags him into the cage in his comatose state. He never strikes him in a fit of panic or rage. We never really see an overly unhinged Joe, he is always calm and collected which I personally preferred because when he does start to unravel at the end of the book it makes it a little more exciting gives the scene more of a shocking impact.

Peach’s death is quite similar in both book and show, but there are some important differences. In the show we see it set up by a panicked Joe to look like a suicide which even includes a note (a clever foreshadowing of Bec’s grisly end). After an attempted drug fuelled threesome initiated by Peach and her unsuccessful male lover (a scene we see nothing of in the book) while in the book Joe secretly stalks the girls vacation home and sees Peach spike Bec’s drink and try to seduce her through an intimate massage that results in Peach’s total dismissal of Bec once she has been rejected. He then waits for Peach to go on a run along the beach and suffocates her in the sand and finally ends it all by hitting her over the head repeatedly with a rock.

We also find out through a series of throw away comments and one scene for scene recollection in the book how Candace died, or better yet, was murdered. Confirming suspicion, it was at Joe’s hand and it was death by drowning. Joe even admits to manipulating her suspicious brother into believing she died in a body surfing accident. We hear this through his own personal narrative while conversing with Bec about lies and secrets they both keep.

Initially at the very end of both book and show we see Joe lose his temper with Bec and strangle her. Once he has calmed down and the deed is done, he shows extreme remorse and guilt. We see a whole page where he expresses a mass amount of regret and begins to break down over what he’s done and how he’s lost her. Unknowingly Bec has tricked him and surprises him by attacking him when his guard is down. This in itself annoys Joe to breaking point and through a series of mental thoughts he explains how he was wrong about her, how she could never love him and how now she has proven to him she is everything he hoped she wasn’t, he then strangles her whole heartedly and even more sickening, he seems to enjoy it.

The ending:

In the show we see in the last episode a girl walk into the shop and the narration he shared when encountering Bec for the first time begins again, insinuating it’s all come full circle and is about to repeat itself. It proves that Joe is a creature of habit and this is his vicious circle and sadly is one he is unable/ unwilling to break. But as we see this girl is Candace (a shock to us all yes) yet in the book it’s already established she was murdered at Joe's hand many years ago. In the book it is a thief we encounter briefly a few chapters back who was using a fake name and a stolen credit card,  a girl who has named herself Amy Adams. While inquiring for a job it is hinted at that she is Joe’s next victim and someone he has chosen to become his new obsession.

This ending is what particularly interested me, as we see the book has a clear end and has given Candace a grisly death thus, eliminating the possibility of her return. Yet in the show, we hear nothing about her death it is just left to hearsay and suspicion. We are then thrown a curve ball by her entrance into the shop in the very last episode which leads us to believe that the show is now going off on a completely new and unknown path, something that both excites and worries fans of the books.

I am also aware a second follow on book has been written and I will be jumping on that very soon!

I hope you enjoyed this post and have a great day. Thanks for reading!

[seenashwrite]

RE: The Terms of Service posts currently circulating...

I’m not totally mentally tracking with these posts (that’s just the one I’ve seen most frequently) regarding what it is, exactly, that’s prompting the tone of panic, for lack of better word.

When I click on this at the bottom of my dash --->

---> the dates on each of those purportedly “updated” pages check out, at least at the moment, given the current date of this post (which is 22 April 18).

Carry on for screencaps from the pages here on-site and from Github, as well, and join me on my “I Don’t Get It, Somebody Explain” journey.

(I’m doing these in reverse order)

Perhaps myopic of me, but I’m not concerning myself with this because when I click for United States....

....that’s not a recent update. I’m not clicking through every country to try and divine where the 11 April 18 update lives.

Now on to the thing that seems to have people panicking and this is the part I apparently am going to need someone to help me understand because I’m not seeing anything earth-shatteringly different regarding NSFW-ish posts.

We click “Legal”, and...

Fine. Let’s go Copyright first. Nah, spoiler alert: they take you to the same joint:

This is a pile of words that is not conducive to the amount of time I am willing to spend on it. For whatever reason, they opt not to highlight or cross out or put a box around wherever in the doc to show - at least as long as they have that “update” at the bottom active - what is new vs. old. They should, but they ain’t paying me to be a consultant, so I’ll leave it at that.

So off we go to Github:

That..... doesn’t sound concerning, but let’s give ‘er a whirl. [Nash reads] Okay, I don’t know what that “moved” means, I’m just looking at content, and it’s all about privacy and your information and how it’s used. Cool.

Because of the GASP! vibe  in the above linked post about stuff that’s in the Community Guidelines subsection of TOS, I went there to see:

Hmmmm.... All right. Off we go to GitHub.

Okay. Still not seeing the “new”.

Gotcha. So. That? ^^^^^^^^ Has been there since 2017. I bring this up because in the post I linked up there, it (unmarked sensitive content) is one of the elements of concern. Here’s what this section says today:

That little clarification paragraph prior to going into the “Gore...” section is the only change - the rest of the words are identical, unless my old-ass eyes are missing something of import.

Why wasn’t this lil’ paragraph “flagged” in the recent update? I have no earthly idea.

But while we’re here, on the topic of marking your posts - one of the assertions in the Panic! At The Tumblr reblog I linked above says that an option to mark a singular post as “explicit” is not available, which is accurate, but um.....

So hey, mark your whole shebang as “explicit” (NSFW) if you wanna play it better safe than sorry. The guidelines as far as I see use the words “frequently” / “regularly” several times, and my read on all of it (I’m not screencapping it, look for yourself) is this:

If you post/reblog naughty images/naughty text (stories) every now and then, you need to hit the wheel and mark it “sensitive”, and that if you are churning out porn on the reg? Pop your entire blog onto “explicit” (NSFW) to save yourself the trouble of screening each time.

They specifically note it’s the job of each blogger to mark themselves “safe mode” if they want to screen out the naughties. But they can’t screen if the originators - AND THE REBLOGGERS, I WOULD LIKE TO POINT OUT - are not hitting the wheel / marking their entire blog.

To sum up: There was no recent update (2018) on this topic that I can see, ergo I am unclear on the source of the recent (2018) panic. 

Okay. Lay it on me. What am I missing?

[sonderlivra]

Maybe some EreMika fluff at the ocean? :00

First of all, thank you so much for this prompt, anon! Second of all, I am so sorry for the delay, I think it’ll be explained when you read the HUMONGOUS block of text that my brain spewed for this amazing little prompt…

Warnings: Swearing, a lot of snark. Really, like an insane amount of it.

Modern AU

Beach Day

I’m going to die. This is at least the tenth time my mind has spewed this thought into my consciousness and this is the tenth time that I’m kinda maybe agreeing.

I am going to die. And I totally blame my murderous best friend, Eren Jaeger.

To be fair, I am as culpable as him in causing the various series of events that will soon culminate in my probable death. And while Eren’s astonishing single-mindedness goes in his favour, I have nothing to fall back on, nothing to blame. I am what I think, and I have disgraced my intellect and my “formidable grey cells”, all because I am a stupid, hormonal teenager.

My apologies to the late Agatha Christie. I have failed her oh so miserably.

“C’mon, Armin! What’re you waiting for!”

“I’m gonna die,” I moan softly.

“Armin,” a calm voice mutters next to me, “stop being so dramatic.”

“Dramatic?” I snap. “That thing is a death machine!”

Mikasa, my other, more rational best friend, sighs. “Not if Eren isn’t driving it.”

“But you haven’t driven it before, either!”

She manages to cast a dark look at me in the brilliance of a very sunny day. “Do you doubt my driving skills?”

Even though I’m sweating from the heat, her look makes me shudder. Damn. “No,” I say meekly.

“Then let’s go.” She checks the straps of my life-saver, more for my benefit than hers, I think gratefully, and leads me to the edge of the water. And yet, I can’t help the panicking, screaming thoughts in my head. This is all my fault. All on me, for goading Eren and keeping the wondrous excitement for the ocean alive through our entire childhood.

See, this is our first time at the beach, and we’ve never seen the ocean before. We grew up in a small town, nestled in hills far, far away from the vibrant seaside city called Trost, where we started college like a week ago. Growing up, our families managed to feed, clothe and educate us as well as they could, but not much else. Going to the seaside felt like a distant dream, a fairy tale. Hell, even leaving Shiganshina was a big deal. But now, thanks to scholarships and an insane amount of penny-pinching and overtime, the three of us finally found ourselves in the long-sought magical land called the beach.

I hate it. I mean, I love the sea, but Paradise Beach is so chock-full of tourists and “seaside activities” that you can’t take two steps without tripping over a sandcastle or a beach umbrella. It is loud, and hectic, and unsurprisingly, Eren’s made himself right at home.

And gone straight for the jet skis.

“Are you sure you kids can handle it?” Mr. Zacharias, the jet ski owner, shows his first sign of concern as Eren hops in place excitedly, splashing water everywhere.

“If we can’t, you can take it up with my uncle,” Mikasa shrugs.

“You, kid.” Mr. Zacharias turns to me, to my alarm. “You know her uncle?”

I get a vivid mental flashback of all the times I have met and been terrified of the man. I nod mutely. Mr. Zacharias scratches his goatee and gestures at Mikasa. “She anything like him?”

I swallow hard, wondering if I should lie. Then I say truthfully, “She’s exactly like him.”

I earn a sharp slap from Mikasa on my arm, but Mr. Zacharias laughs. “That’s good enough for me. Any brat of Levi’s is welcome to use it.”

“I’m not his brat,” Mikasa snarls. “Sure, kid,” Mr. Zacharias chuckles. “As long as all four of you come back in one piece I don’t really care.”

Four of us? -ah, I see he means the Super Fast Vehicle of Awful Death.

“You ready?” Eren grins at me as Mr. Zacharias gives Mikasa some final instructions.

“No,” I say frankly.

“Come on, Armin,” Eren says, wrapping his arm around my shoulders. “We’re all kickass at swimming.”

“In a pond. Or a river. With shallow currents.”

“We’ve got life vests.”

“It’s the ocean.”

“It’s low tide.”

“It’s still the ocean.”

Eren’s hand grasps my shoulder so tightly I wince. “I won’t let you die,” he says solemnly, looking straight into my eyes.

“On that note, let’s go jet skiing.” Mikasa deadpans behind us. Eren laughs, louder than necessary. I wonder if he’s feeling nervous too.

Mikasa grabs the handlebars, looks over the minimal controls, then glances back at us with a frown. “Armin’s in the middle.”

Eren, who already has one hand on her waist, frowns, too. “Why?”

“Because I don’t want to die,” I say shortly and cut in front of him, straddling the seat behind Mikasa. Eren climbs on behind me in the next moment, unnaturally silent. Years of being his best friend and conspirator leaves my Spidey senses tingling.

Something is up with Eren.

If I’m being honest,, something has been up with him for a while. How long exactly, I don’t know. I have definitely noticed it since we moved into our co-ed dorms a week ago. As to what exactly is different about him… It’s difficult to put into words. A strange look here, an unexpected word there, a sudden silence or two where he’d ignore both me and Mikasa… I want to help, and I know she does too, but I don’t think either of us knows where to start. This beach day was supposed to help, but now, as I feel Eren’s loose grasp on my shoulder, I’m not so sure it’s helping at all.

But then everything is lost to me in the next moment when Mikasa revs up the machine, and then we are off.

*

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Eren’s asked this question four times already and it’s getting on my nerves.

“I’m fine. I just want to chill for a bit.”

“You sure?”

“Eren, go play in the sea and leave me the fuck alone,” I snap.

Eren snaps his mouth shut and again I see a glimmer of something in his eyes. He had the same look just before we set off on that disastrous jet ski ride.

Mikasa had been a master at it, unsurprisingly. The number of times she had grabbed her uncle’s motorcycle back at home had guaranteed her an innate understanding of driving Fast Vehicles of Awful Death. I, however, did not have any such innate skill. For the first time in my life I wished I was on her motorcycle instead.

She is currently lying back on her towel which is next to mine, watching the people on the beach. “He means well,” she murmurs, her gaze following Eren’s form bob in and out of the ocean.

I sigh. “I know. I’ll apologize.”

She nods curtly. “You do that. Something seems to be bothering him.”

“You noticed it too?” I lean on my elbow and turn to her. She nods again. “I always notice.”

I watch her watching him, and suddenly, something clicks in my mind.

“Are you okay, Mikasa?” I ask her.

She turns to me. “Me? I’m not the one who threw up in the ocean.”

“Okay, I thought we agreed to never discuss that?”

A small smile appears on her face as she turns away again. “Oops.”

We are distracted in that moment by Eren, who jogs up to us, dripping seawater everywhere.

“Hey Miks,” he grins. “The water’s amazing. You should totally go for a swim.”

Mikasa weirdly enough glances at me. “Maybe later,” she mutters.

Eren’s smile slips off his face and there is that something in Eren’s eyes again. “You two are fucking boring,” he grumbles and ambles away.

I can see the flush of hurt on Mikasa’s cheeks, and that is the point when I realise I’ve had enough. I rise to my feet, unsteady in the sand, and follow Eren.

“Eren, hey! Wait up!” I try to run to him but the damn sand is slowing me down. By the time I catch up to him I’m already panting slightly. I hate this beach.

“Look, I’m sorry,” I wheeze immediately. “I’m sorry I snapped at you.”

Eren’s eyes are still dark and I am suddenly aware that he is angry. “Okay.”

“Eren, really. I’m sorry I’m ruining this trip for you,” I continue, feeling more and more awful.

“Yeah, well, it’s too late now, isn’t it.” He makes to walk away again but I grab his hand. “Eren, come on, I said I’m sorry. Let’s all do something together. What do you want to do next?”

Eren yanks away his hand. “The fuck does it matter. You two do your thing together.”

I grasp his hand again. “No, but we-”

“I don’t need your fucking pity. Let go, Armin.”

I gape at him. “Pity? We’re not-”

“I said, let go of me!” Eren shoves me and I stumble onto my knees.

“Eren!” I hear Mikasa’s shout closer than I expected and Eren stiffens up. “What are you doing?” She demands as soon as she is by my side, helping me up.

“Oh look who’s here to rescue you,” he drawls. “Time for me to leave.”

This time it is Mikasa who grabs his arm. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

Eren pulls his hand away again. “Wrong with me? What’s wrong with you?” He jabs a finger at her and if she hadn’t stepped back he’d have poked her right in the chest. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice? Do you two really think I’m that stupid?”

Mikasa’s frown deepens. “Eren, what’re you-”

“But you know what, maybe I’ve overestimated you guys. I mean, you’re the ones that are fucking stupid enough to think you can hide it from me.” Eren’s voice is a cruel snarl. “It figures. If you paid any attention at all apart from making gooey eyes at each other, maybe you wouldn’t have underestimated me like the fucking idiots that you are.”

Wait what?

“What.” Mikasa and I say at the same time.

“Don’t pretend, I know-”

“Eren.” Mikasa, always quick to react, always the brave one, manages to speak first. “Do you think Armin and I are going out together?”

Eren crosses his arms and throws us a look which is eloquent enough by itself. “Duh,” it tells us.

Before I can respond in any way, Mikasa blurts, “Wait just one second. I thought you and Armin were together?”

What. The. Actual. Fuck?

It is now Eren’s turn for a jawdrop. I suddenly feel like I’m having an out-of-body experience, like this is something happening to someone else. This is not me. This is not my life. These two idiots cannot be my two bestest friends in the world. I meet their stupefied looks with one of my own, the shouts and the noise of the beach seeming far, far away, when it really, properly hits me.

Eren is still dumbstruck by shock, and Mikasa is also always the stoic one, so it is me who breaks first.

It starts with a snort. Then a giggle. Then I am laughing so much I am doubled over in pain, clutching my stomach.

When I can look at their faces again, it nearly sends me over the edge of hysteria again. Eren looks like a puppy whose tail has been stepped on and Mikasa’s face is a careful frozen mask.

“Oh my god,” I wheeze, wiping tears from my eyes, “oh my fucking god. Guys.” I smirk up at them. “I’m flattered, really I am, that you think I’m so irresistibly attractive. But let me just put this out there, once and for all.” I place each of my hands on their backs. “I love you. Both of you. Equally.” I pause to emphasise my next word. “Platonically.”

Identical sheepish looks appear on their faces and something else clicks in my brain.

“As for you guys, they say communication is the most important aspect of a relationship. So stop being these sad, pining, clueless idiots and communicate.” I see the flush creeping up Mikasa’s face and how Eren seems unable to meet her gaze anymore. My next action is immediate, instinctual.

I push them forward so abruptly their foreheads knock together and I command them, “Now, kiss.”

Then, with a beatific smile, I skip away, blissfully ignoring their shouts and cursing. They’ll thank me later.

*

Okay, I take it back. I don’t hate this beach, not really. The tourists are thinning out and the sun is setting over the water and turning the entire view into a breathtakingly varied palette of colours.

I could get used to this.

The next moment, I am knocked over by a veritable mass of muscle and bones and for a split moment I think my day of reckoning has come. Then I recognise the limbs entangled with my own and the breathless laughs sounding in my ears.

“Guys!” I gasp shrilly, “what the fuck-”

Eren silences me with a loud, smack of a kiss on my cheek. “We love you too,” he grins, and Mikasa follows with an equally fervent kiss on my other cheek and adds, “Very much.”

“Ugh. Get off me, weirdos.”

They laugh but comply and pull me up with them. I have already packed up our meagre beach supplies and so we begin to make our way to the bus stop, where we have to take the last bus back to the University. Eren and Mikasa walk ahead of me and when I see how easily their hands twine together, a smile begins to form on my face.

Then they pause, turn to look at me, and just as easily slip their joined hands over my back, leading me ahead in the middle of their warm embrace. My smile widens.

I could definitely get used to this.

A/N: Soooo yeah. Sorry, not a lot of Eremika, but I just adore the interactions between these three and I’ve just missed writing them together! Plus, I enjoyed writing Armin’s POV so much this story basically wrote itself, I had none of this planned.

I’m sorry if you were expecting cute beachside cuddles. I gave you a bulldozed Armin instead, yaye!

Thanks so much for taking the time to read this insanely long story!

[morethannotenough]

...there we were.

Well, I ruined it! Within about 7 months of meeting my goal I have gained every. single. ounce. back. 

Frustrated, disgusted, disappointed, angry... these don’t even begin to explain what I’m feeling. The back pain, the shortness of breath, the fatigue, it’s all back too. What’s killing me is my mind is still obsessed with that goal, but I can’t motivate my body to do anything about it. That’s not to say I’m not trying. Things are just going to be a little more complicated this time, because clearly the whole “well I’ll just not eat for 6 months” approach to weight loss ISN’T WORKING, and I understand why now, which helps, but also means I have to address some gigantic, well-established thought processes. That ish is hard. 

That being said, I do think I’m making a little bit of progress, and I’d like to kind of track it here if I have the willpower to keep writing. I use to write in a journal every day, but I felt like it kept me stewing in my negative emotions too much (because what else would a 16-year-old girl write about except her emotional turmoil?!), so I stopped and have been hesitant to pick up the habit again. Also... I’m an adult with responsibilities now, so spending hours a day pouring my soul out to the internet isn’t really an option anymore. I’ve thought about doing some sort of daily or weekly blog/journal/whatever during this whole process, but like everything else in my life, I put it off. What a great self-deprecating segue!

So the first thing I think I’ve figured out is that I have **undiagnosed** (that’s important, I’m not trying to claim anything here, it just all makes too much sense to not be at least a possibility) ADHD. I remember wondering this in high school. I even remember telling my mom once that I thought I had it. She immediately offered to get me tested, and I refused, thinking there wasn’t really anything they could do to help me. I kinda want to go back and shake that girl now. What I didn’t realize then, and wouldn’t realize until just a few months ago, is that ADHD is SO MUCH MORE than just an inability to pay attention to things and being easily distracted. It messes with your entire life. Your productivity, your executive function (the part of your brain that tells you to start the thing you want to do), your relationships, your time-management skills, your hyperfixations that take over your entire life but only last for a finite period of time, your dopamine reception, all of it. That last one is especially important. If I’m correct, and I do have ADHD, it means that my brain doesn’t produce enough dopamine, so I am constantly looking for more. You know what gives an awesome, instant dopamine boost? Eating carbs and sugar. 

I think I’ve had this for a long time and I subconsciously learned from a young age, both from the midwestern food culture (celebrating? food! grieving? food! stressed? let’s get some food! bored? food!) telling me that any kind of emotion can be improved with food, and my sneaky little ADHD friend compounding the comfort/reward aspects of those food solutions, that food will make me feel good, no matter what else is going on. Throw in the fact that I’ve been slightly overweight my whole life, and while I was not actively bullied persay, I was passively bullied (by myself and others) enough that I was already insecure (it was called “shy” at that time) by the age of about 7. We’ll go into all of that later because it played more of a part than I originally gave it credit for. Anyway, ADHD has a lot of what are called co-morbid disorders, which are basically conditions that are likely to occur with an ADHD diagnosis. These can include depression, anxiety, OCD, oppositional defiant disorder, learning disabilities, executive function disabilities, aaaaand eating disorders, especially binge eating disorder. Binge eating disorder (BED) with anorexic and bulimic tendencies is what my current diagnosis is, I think. At least the BED part. What a coincidence.

Now, I’m not trying to say that my current weight is all due to my potentially existing ADHD. I clearly made some choices along the way to get here, but I have spent so many hours and sleepless nights wondering WHY I can’t just ‘eat healthier’ or stick to a diet and lose the weight. Why do I struggle so much with these things that other people are totally capable of? Having an explanation is such a comfort. Knowing that there’s a reason why this process is so hard for me, when it seems so easy for others keeps me from falling into depression and helplessness. Prior to talking with my therapist and my dietitian, I would sit and think about what it would take for me to be a healthier, fitter version of myself. I would picture myself years from now eating salads and veggies while my family ate pizza, like my mom use to do while she was on weight watchers. I would picture just wanting to take a lazy day but I needed to get my 4 mile run in first, and that future looked miserable. But the only way I had ever been successful at losing weight was by literally starving myself and pushing my body to the extreme with exercise, so clearly that was the only way to do it. I’m learning that this all or nothing thinking is deeply flawed, and honestly a big part of the reason I’ve been so unsuccessful in the past. Restriction (especially extreme restriction) is not sustainable, and studies have shown that it actually causes people to gain more weight back than they originally lost. Because diet culture is a huge money maker and they need a way to have repeat customers. Once you fall into the binge/restrict cycle, it is very difficult to get back out. That’s where I am now. 

Even though I want this thing so bad, and I have a path that’s going to be easier this time, I’m having trouble actually making the small changes I need to start with, because my body literally does not trust me anymore. Every time I eat a food I like, I have to eat as much as I possibly can, just in case this is the last time I’ll let myself have it for months. If I make a small change, eat a healthy snack, do a quick workout before work in the morning--the little voice in my head says, good, we’ve started, now don’t eat anything else the rest of the day so we can keep up our progress, and more often than not I listen. Moderation is not always easy when you’ve lived in these extremes your entire life. 

I don’t think I’m alone in this. I think there are a lot of people who can identify with these same struggles, even if they haven’t recognized these issues in themselves yet. So I’ve decided to try to chronical this journey to healthier thought patterns, and see where that takes me physically. You always hear the stories of the successful people after they’ve been successful. Let’s get through the gritty part together. I’ve been in therapy about weight loss for almost 2 years now, and I’ve made some major shifts in my thought processes already, I still have a lot to do. If I can help even one other person escape this cycle, it will be worth it. 

I’m going to end today with an assignment my dietitian gave me, which is finding other reasons to fix my relationship with food other than weight loss. Some of these still have to do with losing weight, but don’t focus on a number on the scale. Hopefully I can check these off and more over the coming years!

1. I miss riding horses, but I don’t feel like I can fairly do it right now at the weight I am. 

2. On that same thread, there are a lot of activities I’d like to try that look like a lot of fun, but my weight holds me back both physically (weight limits) and mentally (fear of judging, looking stupid, failing and deciding it’s because of my size, associating a severely negative emotion with the activity and giving up interest in it before giving it a fair shot, etc.) Some of those things include, aerial silks, pole dancing (not stripping, but like, the exercise classes), kayaking, rock wall climbing, dancing, and a bunch more that I’ll think of later. I love doing outdoor activities, but I don’t because my weight makes me so uncomfortable. 

3. Losing the stress of going to an unfamiliar restaurant, and the judgement around ordering the same, bland thing every time. I have been chastised for being a picky eater my entire life, so I have a lot of stress around choosing foods in front of other people. This is also something that formed, unknowingly to me, at a young age. It results in an almost panic-like state of mind if the trip is sprung on me and I don’t have time to prepare (like the time I started my new job and another employee was assigned to take me to lunch, and almost chose a sushi restaurant before we realized we wouldn’t have time to get there and back. I don’t do sushi, I had no idea what to order, and I barely paid attention to the rest of my orientation that morning because I was panicking about lunch.), or, if I know it’s coming, I will binge on something I do like and that I know will keep me full before I go. Then I can order a small side salad or something, tell the person I’m with that I’m “just not that hungry today” and not have to worry about my stomach growls giving me away. This also spills over into places that I really like to go to. If I know we’re going to Old Chicago, for example, and I can easily put away one of their individual pizzas in one sitting, but I’m scared the people I’m with will judge me for that, I’ll binge before I go there too, so I can eat half of it, ask for a box, and finish the rest on the way home or later that night. It’s not healthy, and I didn’t even consciously realize I was doing it until a few months ago. 

4. Having a truly open mind about trying new things. I hate being so picky. Hate it. But textures and certain flavors activate my gag reflex and I cannot eat them. There are some foods that are ‘okay’, or “I’ll eat it, but I probably wouldn’t make it for myself.” but for the most part it’s I LOVE THIS SO MUCH (read: anything made of bread and cheese), or I HATE THIS SO MUCH I CANT EVEN SWALLOW IT. Because of those extremes, I don’t try a lot of new foods, because history shows I don’t like most things. When I do, I try to have an open mind, or try to look and sound like I have an open mind, but I’m already prepared to spit it out before I even take the fist bite. I want to more more foods into my “its okay” range, and maybe eventually form a “hey, this is pretty good” range. I want to be able to go to my boyfriend’s parents’ house and eat what his dad cooks (he’s always trying new recipes with a lot of different foods and spices. He takes great pride in his cooking, which he should, and I feel like I constantly offend him with my 6-year-old tastebuds. I avoid going over there if I know there’s going to be food because I’m so stressed about not hurting his feelings. 

5. I want to be able to have options about where to buy my clothes. Right now I’m limited to a few things at Walmart (which are sometimes super cute, but are usually very not cute), and Torrid which is always cute but sooooo expensive. I’d love to see a cute shirt in a store window or even online and think, hey, I should try that on! Instead of, “well that will never fit me.” 

6. I want to want vegetables. I want to be able to choose foods based on how they make my body feel instead of the taste. I want to crave a lunch that gives me energy to get through the rest of my day, instead of something that tastes delicious (hello giant bowl of ravioli), but leaves me in a carb crash and not wanting to do anything the rest of the day. I want to see my food as fuel.

7. I want to not feel so guilty about eating the things I do like! It isn’t so bad when I’m by myself (hence my continued secret eating), but even if I’ve been good (or put up a facade of being good) all week, if I’m the one who asks to order pizza or make pasta for dinner, I feel heavily judged. I do it to myself a bit as well, but especially if there are others, and especially if they know I’m trying to lose weight. 

8. I want to have kids one day (part 1). My doctor told me at my last appointment that she wants to see me get to around 200 lbs to give me the best shot at a healthy pregnancy. That’s not unreasonable, and I think she’s right. I’m in my 30s and my window to have kids will close sooner rather than later, so I want to get my body to a place where I can confidently make that choice when I’m ready.

9. I Want to have kids one day (part 2). I want to teach my kids to enjoy healthy foods so they don’t have to go through this same struggle. How am I suppose to expect them to try vegetables and healthier foods if I wont?

10. I want my life to stop being about food and weight all the time. It literally never leaves my mind. I want to be able to stop obsessing about it and just live and know that I can trust my body to make the right choices and maintain my optimum lifestyle without stressing and obsessing over food every single day.

I think that’s a start. I want to start diving into this more and doing more frequent entries so these aren’t all 10 pages long. I don’t have a great track record with that, but I want to try. I want to be able to look back on the work I put in while I celebrate reaching those 10 goals I just listed. I want to help other people reach their goals too without having to go through the mental anguish I’ve been experiencing for the last 20-something years. 

One day at a time, one meal at a time. I’ve got help, I’ve got goals, I’ve got time and ability. I’ve just got to do it.

[elainescookingforthesoul]

TRANSCRIPT for Episode 1.06 “Robin’s Penne Bolognese” (PART 1/2)

ACT I

[INTRO MUSIC]

ELAINE: Hello and welcome back to Elaine's Cooking Podcast for the Soul. I am your host Elaine Martínez, and tonight...well, tonight listeners, in the interest of open communication, I've been feeling a little blue. I suspect it may be the temporary lockdown in place across LA making me a little stir-crazy...I've been stuck this dental office for the past three days. Or it could be the lean rations and the ongoing ban on bread. I don't know, sometimes I think it's just the death of most my friends and family after the rapid, haphazard exchange of nuclear weapons by now-extinct government bodies all those months ago...I hate to complain, but I know there might be other people feeling a little down, so thought it might be worth sharing. We all have ways of coping with sad emotions, but the best way for me is by cooking up something good and talking to myself! Today, however, I'm getting a little outside that old routine. Oh, I'm still cooking up something delicious, but this time around I'll be talking to a lovely new guest by the name of Robin Jones. Welcome, Robin! 

ROBIN: Hello, Elaine!

ELAINE: Robin, it is truly a pleasure to see you. Now we were once tangential acquaintances…

ROBIN: Yeah, I was your barista! Saw this babe every day for their chai tea latte. And now I get to hang out where you work! I didn't even know you were a dentist! Although I guess in retrospect, your scrubs and insistence that I use your #1 Dentist mug makes a little more sense.

ELAINE: Oh, I've missed those chai lattes, and I've missed your energy. Still have the cup though! See?

[CERAMIC MUG HITS TABLE]

ROBIN: Sick.

ELAINE: Well, what are we cooking up today, Miss Robin?

ROBIN: Firstly, before we get in too deep, I do prefer gender neutral pronouns such as they, them, or just Robin.

ELAINE: I hope I didn't offend you.

ROBIN: Nah, you didn't know! Now you do. Still prefer she and her?

ELAINE: That is correct. And secondly?

ROBIN: Secondly, let me just say when I heard you were doing a post-apocalyptic cooking podcast, I was like, okay, but there are only two ways to eat canned meat as far as I know: hot or cold, right? But then I remembered two very magical words: Penne Bolognese.

ELAINE: Italian!

ROBIN: Yup. The recipe I brought with me is a modified version of other, better versions. It uses only a can of diced tomatoes, a half cup of lentils, some tomato paste, a handful of illegal spices, and my least favorite noodle, the freaking tiny tube-ish one.

ELAINE: I see. Well your candor is much appreciated.

ROBIN: Sure sure, that's like my thing. Hey. Remember when you were talking about being sad and lonely?

ELAINE: Just a few moments ago?

ROBIN: Yeah.

ELAINE: Yes. Why?

ROBIN: Is that, like, the same as feeling bummed?

ELAINE: Maybe. What does feeling bummed feel like for you?

ROBIN: You know, bummed. For me it's like this engulfing wave thing that happens to my heart every once in a while when I remember everything I've lost. My mom, my sisters, my cats, my bluetooth earbuds...It feels like my heart is being squeezed, but also like I'm plummeting from the top of a roller coaster. But it's not fun at all.

ELAINE: Sounds like...and I am just a dentist and not a licensed therapist, psychologist, or medical doctor...but perhaps you are describing a panic attack brought on by feelings of sadness and isolation? 

ROBIN: Nah, I wasn't panicking at all though. I was just chilling in the abandoned Russian deli I've been living out of, sitting on the counter, eating some Sour Punch Straws and thinking about life.

ELAINE: Sure, but--

ROBIN: Like, for all intents and purposes, it was a pretty regular day.

ELAINE: My own anxiety has many triggers. Sometimes it seems to pop up quite randomly and can really lay me low.

ROBIN: Woof. Thank god I don't have that.

ELAINE: Right...Well, Robin, what I'd like to suggest is that you continue talking this out with a licensed therapist--I used to know many. But these days everyone of that ilk has been rounded up to work on those semi-sentient advertising robots.

ROBIN: You mean the Ad Ministers? Those things are...

ELAINE: Terrifying?

ROBIN: I was gonna say 'dope,' but yeah they're pretty fuckin terrifying.

ELAINE: Indeed. So since real methods of dealing with our declining mental health is temporarily unattainable, why don't we work through this by way of having a little fun cooking up some food and enjoying one another's company?  Why don't you share a little about this delightful dish with us!

ROBIN: Cool, I'll just like tamp those feelings down for now. Gimme a second.

ELAINE: Please, take your time.

ROBIN: Cool, all set. So for the dish there are basically two elements uniting here. We've got a real chunky tomato-ey sauce.

ELAINE: Plainly stated, I love it.

ROBIN: And we've got a noodle. 

ELAINE: Penne, to be precise.

ROBIN: Ugh, don't get me started. This dumb-looking tube is by far the least popular noodle, and it's impossible to trade at the ration swaps. Even wheat fettuccini noodles pull higher rank than this guy.

ELAINE: It is a very boring noodle. Let's get started on this sauce! Afterwards, we'll rinse out the pot and boil up the penne.

ROBIN: The sauce! Oh man, Elaine. I've really worked this one out. It's a huge step up from your regular jar of marinara. Lots more flavor, tons more protein. 

ELAINE: Ooh, and we certainly are not in a position to turn down protein.

ROBIN: No, we are not. So the sauce is real  simple. I brought with me a can of diced tomatoes. Will you open that?

ELAINE: Of course.

[CAN OPENER GRINDING]

ROBIN: And I guess I can get this hot plate thingy fired up...It's like a camping stove, huh?

[GAS/WHOOSH OF HOT PLATE]

ELAINE: Exactly. It gets that pot hot extremely fast. 

ROBIN: Perf. Just throw those tomatoes right on in, Elaine.

[SIZZLE]

ROBIN: And then we'll fill that can there with some water and add that as well. May I?

[WATER POURING]

ELAINE: Oh my. I never thought of using the water pick for cooking before.

ROBIN: Well, if we're gonna do this on top of a dental chair, we might as well use the whole hog, right? 

ELAINE: Very resourceful. 

ROBIN: Great. So we can just let that pot get hot...you weren't kidding. This thing works fast.

ELAINE: It is always an extremely high flame, and a very thin pot. 

ROBIN: Well alright. I guess it's time to add the tomato paste--just a squirt there, maybe a tablespoon's worth.

[SQUIRT AND SIZZLE]

ELAINE: Done. I'll just stir that in.

ROBIN: Great! And now we get to add all the illegal spices and herbs I bought and stole

ELAINE: So much candor.

ROBIN: It's my signature Sogbop spice. 

ELAINE: Sogbop. I can't say I have ever heard of that before.

ROBIN: Oh sure, that's because I made it up. It's a teaspoon each of salt, oregano, garlic powder, basil, onion powder, and parsley. All these herbs together make SOGBOP. It's like instant Italian.

ELAINE: Bellissimo!

ROBIN: Totinos! Pizza Roll-eys!

ELAINE: We should stop. We may be getting accidentally culturally insensitive.

ROBIN: Can I do one more?

ELAINE: No, we should return to the dish.

ROBIN: You're right. Anyway, I wanted to do that thing they always do in cooking shows where they have tiny little glass or ceramic bowls with the dosed out amounts of spice. But I just threw them all in this baby food jar here instead. Sorry it's less elegant. 

ELAINE: Not at all. I feel like a cooking show that is sustained without a visual element is entitled to certain shortcuts.

ROBIN: Totally. So at this point, the sauce is smelling pretty damn nice. The thing that's gonna make this an almost-Bolognese, though, is these lentils. I brought red lentils this time around, but brown lentils work fine too. 

ELAINE: Looks to be about half a cup.

ROBIN: Yup. We pour these bad boys in.

[LENTILS POUR]

ELAINE: We are nearing the capacity for this small one-quart pot.

ROBIN: And I think I'm gonna push it by adding even more water. 

[WATER SPRAYS IN]

ELAINE: Very nearly to the brim. 

ROBIN: Don't worry, the lentils will do their thing in a minute.

[WATER POURS OVER, SIZZLES]

ELAINE: If you say so. How long does it take to cook?

ROBIN:About ten or fifteen, I'd say. High flame, thin pot, right?

ELAINE: Right. Well perhaps we ought to take a quick break. Listeners, when we return we will be checking in on this delicious-smelling Bolognese sauce, boiling up some noodles, and conquering our anxiety and depression!

ROBIN: That's a tall order.

ELAINE: We'll start with the penne Bolognese and see if we have time for the other stuff.

ROBIN: Sounds good.

ELAINE: We'll be right back. Please stay still and do nothing, or other government-approved activities.

END OF ACT I

INTERLUDE/AD BREAK

ELAINE: Okay, listeners, please bear with me. As you probably know, every local business was assigned an Ad Minister--those patrolling android robot thingies? Anyway, I've locked mine in the lobby storage room because it's been playing this unbearably dull ad for that nondescript item nonstop all week, and--

AD MINISTER: Don't like this ad?

ELAINE: Oh...no, not really. I just--

AD MINISTER: I have heard every commercial. Generating new ad...ready.

ELAINE: Wow, great!

AD MINISTER: Lonely, but could be not blemishes! Have a local, organic body pore to leave you feeling full for hours! No money down, no soy, and NO sad. Happy here with kid-approved now! Try be and so good. Smooth, care, crunch. 

ELAINE

...okay. Well, back to the show!

[MUSICAL TRILL]

[63824peace]

Sunday, 2nd of october 2005

I lost my shoes in last night's dream. I exited a plane and realized: "I am barefoot! My shoes aren't here… I must have forgotten them!"

I spoke with someone who worked for the airline, but he didn't know a thing about my shoes. I couldn't even remember when I lost them. When did I take them off? Perhaps I never wore them to begin with.

As I panicked, I traveled from place to place looking for my shoes; yet, none of these locations shared a border or had any means of physical connection. I simply was there, then in another place, and then another.

...and then the exam started! I suddenly remembered! I had to take that exam!

Was it a trial exam? An entrance exam? I had no clue! And even though the exam had started, I kept looking for my shoes. I gave up on taking the exam, but not on looking for my shoes. Everything became unclear... why I lost my shoes... memory weakened.

And on that subject, why was I even on that plane? Where was I going?

Feeling confined, constricted, I woke up.

It was an unpleasant dream. My body felt heavy.

I took a morning drive to prevent the battery in the car from weakening. I listened to my new music while I drove: The Tears and H.I.M.

My musical tastes aren't eclectic. I rarely listen to metal with the exception of the band Apocalyptica. Metal's aesthetic displeases me completely: the cover art, the logos, the fashion, the overall art design... even the music itself. I need more than just the music itself to think well of metal. I need to enjoy the cover art, the logotype, the fashion, and the art design; the total aesthetic counts.

Please understand, I don't mean that metal music is absolutely bad. I simply don't enjoy it.

Yet many people in Kojima Productions are fans of metal music, especially those who were born in the 1970's. They listen to metal quite a lot.

Maybe it's a simple matter of a generation gap. Shin-chan and Toyopy are practically experts in metal. Their generation traveled along the road of trends that took music from progressive to metal. My generation listened to progressive music at the same time that we encouraged punk rock onward. I suppose that makes people of my generation a little twisted!

A world of difference exists between two generations.

H.I.M.'s new album has some catchy melodies, so I found it pleasant to listen to. It is closer to the Romantic movement in hard rock during the 1980's than to metal. I expect that the group will have many female fans.

This will be their fifth album, even though it's their debut release in Japan. I was surprised by the introduction to the music on the first track. It's practically like listening to Goblin itself!

H.I.M. is from Finland, as is Apocalyptica. Music from Northern Europe is simple and sentimental... so pure, it's almost rural, provincial. In order to survive in such a harsh and cold environment, the people seek music that connects directly to the soul and the mind.

I read an article about Maruzen closing its business in yesterday's Asahi Journal Evening Edition. It claims that many people are leaving lemons in the department store, just like the main character in Motojiro Kajii's short story titled LEMON. Coincidentally, I learned that many people are buying LEMON from the bookstore inside Maruzen.

LEMON is featured in school textbooks; there aren't many Japanese who don't know the story. I am fond of the story myself. I learned the name Maruzen for the first time through LEMON. To be perfectly honest... I left a lemon in Maruzen when I was a high school student. My friend did the same.

It must have been a nuisance for the people who worked there. I feel a bit sorry for having done it.

I’m sad that Maruzen is closing business, but I'm pleased to know that witty people still live in Japan. The knowledge relieves me somewhat.

Today, the Subsistence team rests before starting the final phase. Around my boot, everything is quiet. The MGA2 team is animated, however. MGA2 will be released in the same month as Subsistence.

The situation here is getting serious. Staff morale has improved since the debugging and adjustments on the game are going well. This is a good atmosphere to have when we are entering the final stages. At times like these, we need to know whether or not our work has resulted in a product that pleases us. If the results make us think, "Well, that's okay," then we will work hard to make it better than "okay" with the remaining time; right until the very end. If we think, "That looks bad," then we try to complete it as soon as possible. We don't spend much more time on it than necessary.

Our effectiveness comes from our understanding of what we create. A garbage game is always recognized as a garbage game by its creators.

Checking the three discs of Subsistence takes a lot of time, but MGA2 contains a lot of material too. One play-through of MGA2 takes about 30 hours, so we need to develop a schedule for ourselves.

I am finishing Subsistence first.

I checked all of the 3D images of the Sabra girls. The "space" of the real world that we experience day-to-day exists in this game, as opposed to the "space" that one sees in a television show. For example, assume that there is a scene in a television show wherein the camera rolls toward one of the Sabra girls for a close-up. In a television show, the scene would be cut there.

Not so with TOBIDAC!D.

The scene continues, and the girls watch the camera - and me - for eternity. I feel so embarrassed in front of them, I plead, "Please, stop, that's enough!" I feel as though I am really with them.

The three girls look really healthy and cute. In 3D, they become even more vivid! Ms. Ayumi Kinoshita is my favorite.

Since I have been so busy with TGS and GC, I again failed to submit the in-depth interview articles for which I am responsible. This makes the second month in a row that I haven't had the articles. I feel bad about this. I apologize, Mr. Okamura. I must write this month, for sure.

I am not making an excuse here, and it has had nothing to do with a lack of time. I couldn't write them because I felt like I was mentally driven into a corner. To write an article, one must clearly express one's concepts and ideas. When I was at TGS, I was talking and managing the promotional activities. I didn't feel very much like writing an article, which was my own weakness.

Mr. Teru Miyamoto, whose writing I respect, continued writing a series for a magazine even right after the Kobe (Hanshin) Earthquake. At the time, his writing was influenced heavily by the disaster.

Right now, I may not have the ability to write articles for a series.

I have decided on the movie that I'm going to write about for my article. I will watch the DVD in my personal hide-out. I've just been indecisive because this movie was in an article last month. When I mentioned next month's material to Mr. Nishimura; the only person who I can ask for advice regarding content; he responded:

"Mr. Director, that was last month's material. It's already old."

If that's his opinion, then it's probably right. What am I going to do? Should I try to find other material?

I checked the sound on the third disc, Existence, for the second part of chapter four. Though it pains me, I resolved to avoid dramatizing the gameplay aspects of the fight with The End. Players will have to put in the first disc to enjoy those scenes.

In the evening, our works (which we regard as our children) are ready. I leave them in Matsuhanan's hands.

Tomorrow morning, our "sons" head off for Aoyama. Traveling mercies to them!

[j-kaiwa]

Discussion Article March 11th

‘Learning to relax can be life-changing’: how to find your comfort zone

Many of us have forgotten how to truly unwind. We ask the experts for ways to switch off in an always-on world

How do you like to kick back, chill out and really relax? This sounds as if it should be a simple question. But I can’t be alone in having spent several evenings over the past couple of weeks slumped on the sofa, “watching TV” while my eyes flicker across Twitter and Facebook, as well as five different WhatsApp groups on my phone.

Relaxing is increasingly difficult in our always-on digital world. This first struck me a couple of years ago when I had to stop exercising after an injury. Exercise had always been my go-to “me-time” activity, and without it I felt totally lost. I recently started again, but having only one means to de-stress now feels very limited and I am not even sure it counts as relaxing – it is quite hard work, and inherently competitive. When I find myself at home with a free evening, I often have no idea what to do and inevitably end up staring emptily at one screen or another for hours, before stumbling off to bed, wondering where the time has gone.

This seems to be a common problem. The actor Diane Keaton told More magazine: “I wouldn’t know what to do with a week off,” while the musician Gwen Stefani told Stylist that whenever she has any downtime, she feels as if she is “panicking a bit or trying to plan the next thing”. Elon Musk, when asked what he usually does after work, said: “Usually work more” – which does not seem to be turning out well for him.

The need for some simple source of relaxation can be seen in the initial surge in popularity of the adult colouring book, as well as last year’s 13.3% increasein sales of books providing spiritual guidance on how to live in a hectic world, and the mindfulness “mega trend” seen in Headspace, the meditation app that has been downloaded more than 15m times. Those of us who spent our money on these products were presumably searching for answers to some of the same questions – and many of us are still looking. The bottom has now dropped out of the colouring book market, with Forbes declaring it “dead” in May, and, in June last year, Headspace laid off 13 staff members.

According to a report by Ofcom this summer: “Most people in the UK are dependent on their digital devices and need a constant connection to the internet.” It found that 78% of us now own a smartphone – rising to 95% of 16- to 24-year-olds. We check these phones on average every 12 minutes of our waking lives, with 54% of us feeling that the devices interrupt our conversations with friends and family, and 43% of us feeling that we spend too much time online. We can’t relax with them, and we don’t know how to relax without them. Seven in 10 of us never turn them off.

The clinical psychologist Rachel Andrew says she sees the problem every day in her consulting room, and it is getting worse. “I’ve noticed a rise in my practice, certainly over the last three to five years, of people finding it increasingly difficult to switch off and relax. And it’s across the lifespan, from age 12 to 70,” she says. The same issues come up again and again: technology, phones, work emails and social media.

Kicking back in front of one screen or another does have its place, says Andrew – but it depends how you do it. “Sometimes people describe not being engaged in what they’re looking at – totally zoning out, not knowing what they’ve done for the last half-hour,” she says. “You can view this almost as dissociation, periods of time when your mind is so exhausted and overwhelmed it takes itself out of the situation. That’s unlikely to be nourishing in any way.” Maybe that is why, after I have spent an evening staring emptily at Twitter, or dropping off in front of the TV – less Netflix and chill, more Netflix and nap – I wake up feeling as if I have eaten a load of junk food. I have confused feeling brain-dead with feeling relaxed.

The psychoanalyst David Morgan, of the Institute of Psychoanalysis, believes that for many of us this deadening retreat to our screens is both a reason for and a consequence of the fact that we no longer know how to relax and enjoy ourselves. Our screens and what we use them for are all techniques of distraction, he says. “People have got so used to looking for distraction that they actually cannot stand an evening with themselves. It is a way of not seeing oneself, because to have insight into oneself requires mental space, and all these distraction techniques are used as a way of avoiding getting close to the self.”

Some of her patients, Andrew explains, simply never get around to thinking about how they want to spend their time. “People say they are so busy doing the ‘shoulds’,” she says – whether that is working, caring for family or being a part of demanding friendships – that by the time an evening or weekend comes around when they might do what they want, there is no energy or motivation left for anything but “flopping out”. She adds: “That’s a difficulty – because how is life enjoyable or satisfying in the long term if you’re only doing what you should do the whole time?”

For others, the notion of being in touch with their own needs and desires is totally alien, says Andrew. People who grew up in a family environment that centred around the needs of a sibling or a parent might have spent their whole lives never being asked about what they wanted to do. “It might genuinely be something they’ve never considered before,” she says. For those people, identifying something they might find enjoyably relaxing, and pursuing it, can be a huge, life-changing shift. “It can be quite dramatic.”

Another problem is that it can be tricky to untangle our own wishes from those of the people around us, says Nina Grunfeld, the founder of Life Clubs, an organisation that aims to help people live more fulfilling lives. It can take a lot of effort to discover where your enjoyment ends and your partner’s begins. “When my husband and I were young,” she says, “we went to Rome on holiday, and he wanted to go to every church, every restaurant, every everything. And I got home completely shattered. It was only after coming to know myself, after thinking about my life without him and what I like as an individual, that I realised that for me to enjoy a holiday and to come back feeling relaxed and refreshed, I need to read and be still. Now we’ll go on holiday and he goes off to do the churches by himself, but I’m very happy just lying by the beach, pool or fire and reading. It’s a real treat. I might join him for the restaurants, though.”

Speaking to Grunfeld and Andrew, and hearing their advice (see ) on how to identify different occupations that might relax and reinvigorate me, I begin to feel optimistic. I think back to how I liked to pass the time when I was young; the quiet times sitting reading a book, the rowdier times baking with friends. I resolve to make more time to do the adult versions of these things over the next year – then realise I am making excuses. If I could redirect the evenings I am already wasting on screens, that would be a good start.

The fact is, I do already do all those ideal things occasionally, but sometimes it feels as if being in the world is too much, and I need to disappear from it by losing myself in a screen. It is as if I crave that brain-dead feeling, even though I know it isn’t good for me. Having psychoanalytic psychotherapy is helping me to think about the reasons why I might do this – and for Morgan, therapy can be an important pathway out of being stuck in a screen-gazing rut, because it is somewhere a person is encouraged to use his or her mind. “The therapeutic space is the opposite of distraction – it’s concentration,” he says. “When people come into my consulting room, they often tell me it’s the first time they have ever felt they have had a space where they can’t run away from things.”

I have found that not running away from things, but confronting them and reflecting on them, can feel as exhausting as the running itself. It is difficult, disturbing work. But in a room with someone who can listen and help me to make sense of things, it can also be a relief. Morgan tells me: “We have all these various ways of distracting ourselves from the most important fact of life – that we live, and then we die. Having a mind to help you think about things, having a person who can think deeply about things with you, is a way to manage this very frightening fact of life.”

The flip side of that frightening fact is, of course, the realisation that since we don’t have much time on this planet, it is a shame to waste any of it voluntarily making ourselves brain-dead.

• If you are spending time with family or friends over the festive period, Nina Grunfeld recommends assigning each person one hour in which they are in charge of the group’s schedule, when they can choose whichever activity they consider most relaxing. “One of my children might decide we all have to play a video game; another will decide we are all going for a walk; another will make us all bake cakes. That way you all get a bit of ‘me-time’, and you can experience someone else’s – and it’s very relaxing not having to make decisions for the whole day,” she says.

• Try to remember what you most enjoyed doing as a child, then identify the most important aspect of that activity and find the adult version. Grunfeld says: “It might be that you can’t remember, and you have to ask friends or family, or look at old photo albums. There are normally themes in all of our lives, and if we’re missing those themes as an adult, it’s almost as if we’re not a whole person.” If you loved playing in the sandpit, you might want to try pottery, or if you liked building things, you might want to make bread.

• Experiment with looking at the world in a new way. “Allow yourself to explore. Just walk around wherever you are and see what you can find that is completely new. Try to get lost – whenever you get to a turning, ask yourself do you want to go left or right, and see where you end up,” says Grunfeld.

• If you have no idea how to start relaxing, look at the science, says Rachel Andrew. “There is a growing body of research to suggest being out in nature is uplifting and nourishing.”