#I’m currently using the reward system every chapter in my notes I finish the more I can write here

[wakkoroni]

I'm bored and procrastinating so i decided "Time to head to my local hc person!":

What are different ways the batfamily approach doing homework? (Tips, crack, angst, neurodivergent problems, anything's welcome)

As one does lmao, I shall join you in the procrastination. I love how I’m your local hc person- I’m just happy to make Headcanons. You see I misunderstood the ask at first so now I just random school related hcs in my notes so thanks for that lmao but here we go (also strap in because this one is a long one)

I’d like to add a disclaimer that THESE MAY NOT WORK FOR EVERYONE this is just my interpretation of how they would work

Batfam approached to homework

Young Bruce: He could not focus if he were alone in the room doing homework. He would read his Grey Ghost books instead of English homework. Alfred found out about this and made him sit in the kitchen while Alfred cooked; he did the homework. And with Alfred looking over his shoulder- he got that work done quick.

Especially if dinner were about to be served, Alfred would say, “you have 5 minutes,” and Bruce is speeding through his math worksheet. Nothing will get his work done quicker than someone being in the same room and having a time limit. He was speed. Flash had nothing on him lmao

So Bruce’s advice to get your work done: Have someone look over your shoulder (adds stress) and set a timer to finish your work

(A timer is really good if you work best under pressure because it lets you pace yourself, and with the time ticking down, it makes it kinda like a due date approaching)

Dick Grayson: He used the reward system and had to do his work in the same room as someone else. The person doesn’t even have to be paying attention to him. They just have to be there. If he were alone, he would zone out and get nothing done (he’s just me fr fr), so his common places to do work was the batcave, Bruce’s study, the kitchen, or somewhere in the yj cave.

As mentioned in the start, he uses the reward system. Or rather Bruce would use the reward system on him. Like for every worksheet/subject that got done he would get candy or get a 5 minute break to do whatever he wanted. (He usually spent the 5 minutes bothering Bruce or doing backflips and stretching) and it worked!

There were moments when he got restless and couldn’t stay still for very long, so Bruce bought some small fidget toys for him to fidget with while he did his work. But on like bad(?) days when Dick could not stay still or focus at all, he would go to the indoor gym they have and spend an hour getting all the restless energy out before sitting down and focusing on his work.

Dicks advice for homework: be in a public space or have people around and use a reward system. For every problem you complete you get a piece of candy or for every subject you finish take a break to relax. Also make sure to get all your energy out before trying to focus. Being restless and trying a focus is not a good mix.

Jason Todd: Look, I don’t know actually. He genuinely liked school and was pretty good at it. He worked great alone, he has to be alone too. If he’s with other people, he can’t focus because he’s busy tracking the other person's movements or trying to make conversation, so the silence isn’t so awkward. So, he would do his homework in his room. He would gobble up that work and do it so quickly so he could have the afternoon free to read his book of the week. (He loves his uninterrupted reading time)

There were times when he needed help and would cry over being unable to understand the work, so Bruce, Alfred, or even Dick would have to step in and help him. But that’s it- only help, and then they leave cause if they stay, he can’t focus. But he always made sure to get help and ask questions in class so he could understand the homework and do it.

(Jason is the one to be done with his work weeks ahead of time because then he’d have more time to read lmao)

Jason’s advice on homework: If you can’t focus with people around. Be alone and do the work. There’s time for socializing (and reading) later, but right now, the work needs to be done. Also, always ask for help because staring at the work and hoping it magically makes sense is not helpful. Having a quiet place to work is very helpful for some people.

Tim Drake: Let’s think about him for a minute. He lived alone for a hot minute, and Jack and Janet cared about his grades and were probably really strict about it, so he would do his homework in class- or he would just do it when he got home. Cause all the fun he has is at night when he stalked the batfam, so there’s nothing to do during the day except homework so he’d probably finish his work really quick like Jason, but only so he can go outside at night.

However, when he went to move with the Wayne’s all of that changed. Like he went from working in an empty, completely quiet house to a noisy place. He’d probably get sooooo annoyed because every time he wants to do work, he can’t. Because he will sit down and someone wants to hang out with him. He will sit down and try to focus, but all he can hear is the conversation down the hall or the laughter from Dick and Jason being siblings. There is not a period of quietness at all. He would get soooooooo irritated.

They’d question his bad attitude, and then Bruce figures out that, oh yeah, a lonely kid finally has a family wouldn’t be used to a lot of this noise at home and buys him some noise-canceling headphones. From there, it works great. However, now it’s too quiet, and he can only focus on his racing thoughts and not his work. So he plays a little tune (some ambiance probably) that’s just loud enough that he can make out what it’s supposed to be but quiet enough so it’s not distracting. It helps a lot.

However, he still gets distracted. That sucks. So then he also takes breaks between assignments, so that little mixed-up way helps him get work done. He also has a sign on his door that’s like “don’t come in, I’m working,” that the others will respect. If it’s something important, they will knock.

So Tim’s advice: find a quiet place to do work and play a little background noise to focus. Oh, and take breaks in between assignments to not stress yourself out. He’d probably learned how to prioritize/make a schedule for what day he does what assignment. (Lmao can’t be me, but if it works for y’all- kudos to you.) He’s very organized; it doesn’t look like it, but he is.

(He’d also be the one to try and get ahead of his work and do next week, but by then Dick or Jason will burst in and drag him and play a game and take the rest of the afternoon off)

Damian Wayne: Look, here’s the thing with Damian, right? I feel like the league might have taught him to focus on command. He is very task-oriented, so a task you give him is a task that is done.

But like- in the league it was life or death so the stakes were high. It was either finish it or suffer soooooo he had no choice. When he moves in the Manor the stakes are lowered. So like he wouldn’t finish an assignment on time and he’s like “oh no imma get kicked out-“ but instead Bruce is just like “do better” or some useless shit like that and Damian realizes that there really is no big consequences if he doesn’t do the work. As long as he passes the class he can be Robin so-

Alfred, however, does not allow this mentality to go. His grandsons have to pass their classes with an A or even a B but not a C. (Also, I feel like Damian would never get a C because that is a personal failure; a B is pushing it. He’s a perfectionist like that :3)

So the way he does his homework is out of spite, or Alfred is holding his pets or patrol hostage. You may ask yourself: spite? How would that work? If a teacher says, “this will take at least a week finish so don’t procrastinate,” he will do it in a day just to annoy the teacher. If they say, “you won’t be able to do it-“ he will be able to do it. He will force it to happen. He has to be the best, like simply- he gotta. He will be better if there is a “could be better” part in his assignment. Lmao he is the one student fighting for that one point to round his 99 to 100

But sometimes that doesn’t always work, because maybe the teacher will just assign the work without any comment, and he’s like, “well why should I do it because it won’t affect my grade that much-“ and that’s where Alfred comes in. He will hold Damian’s sketchbook (never look through it, who do you think he is? Bruce?), his pets, or just something he loves hostage until Damian finishes his work. (It’s not serious/bad because Alfred will never keep it overnight. He just notices that Damian works best with high stakes, so it helps him. Alfred has never held another hostage longer than 3 hours because Damian gets it done that fast. He’s very grateful for this because this means that Damian will never call his bluff)

Damian’s advice to do work: High stakes are always the answer. Always do things just because someone says you can’t. Even if it’s yourself saying that you can’t finish it. Do it to spite yourself, then. Oh, your brain said, “I can’t do this” fuck them and do it

Damian has a very aggressive approach to work lmao that’s probably a little unhealthy

But now I shall give my own advice to do work because yeah. (I am not an expert or professional, and these may not work for everyone)

First off, don’t force yourself to focus. Especially it’s only on one assignment. Like if you are in a math vibe and have math work due, but you're trying to focus on English work. Push English to the side and focus on math cause you never know when the vibe will change. Work with your brain; don’t work against it. It’s teamwork, even if it seems like your Brain is just trying to make things difficult.

Another piece of advice: turn it into a game, and try and make it fun. The reason I love math it’s because it’s like solving a mystery and the way I got to like reading is because whenever I had to defend my answer I could pluck it out of the text and be like “look I’m right” and it was like a court case in my mind. So make it fun. (I know it’s homework, and homework sucks, but you still gotta do it)

Another piece of advice: make it manageable. Break it down, if you can simplify it, make it simple. “I have to write an essay on this stuff.” Write down the basic parts of it. What do you want to say? What’s your point? Why do you care? And then, after you answer those in short sentences, go back and make it longer.

But more importantly: don’t stress. That might sound like a basic response but listen- stressing gets nothing done. It delays you. But if you work best under pressure, you do you, but if you can’t? Try and calm down and break it up.

One thing I’ve heard people say is, “you have to do it. One way or another the due date will come and you will have to submit it. You can panic, you can cry, you can get upset but that’s not going to change the fact that time is running. Why waste it crying when you can be doing it?” They always made it sound so easy (and low-key kind of mean), but it’s not always that easy. I mean, the advice helps sometimes, and they bring up a good point.

Whoever says focusing is so easy is a liar. Because it’s not. If it was so easy, these headcanons would not exist.

Take easy on yourself and enjoy these headcanons

Also research some study methods. I am not an expert at this

[thebibliosphere]

ADHD reward system? Please tell me your secret!

My therapist has been helping me find a reward system that works for me, and as it turns out, gold star stickers are really helpful for making me feel like a tangible goal was met, and helps give me that sweet, sweet dopamine release that comes with completing a task, something which us ADHD’ers really struggle to achieve and are already coming at from a disadvantage with our brains regularly not producing enough “happy” hormones as it is.

It was supposed to be “a sticker for every time you finish a chapter”, but after some revision, my therapist said that was too tall of a goal, and that I should pick something smaller. So instead I now get a star every time I finish a 500-word milestone, placing the sticker in my writing calendar/journal thing that I use to keep track of my writing, and ironically, I have started to produce more work than when I was stiving for one chapter a day.

To give you an idea of how staggeringly effective this has been for me, I’ve written over 30k of original fiction in the last week. (75k total if you include my social media and blog stuff, which I currently do not but likely should.)

So this is what it looked like when I was attempting to do a chapter of edits and revisions a day during the month of December 2019 (note: I was supposed to start this in Nov, so you can see how well that worked out for me lol):

ID: A calendar showing days of the month with a shiny star sticker showing a completed task.

And this is what my writing journal looks like now that I’m doing a star for every 500 words:

ID: an image of a handwritten journal with the dates mapped out, followed by a shiny star sticker for every completed 500-word milestone. There are 65 stars in total for the month of January 2020. It’s also tinged by a green light cause I’m doing a chronic pain experiment, so far with positive results!

So as of today, January 8th, with ever star = 500 words, then 65*500 = 32500 words totalled in 7 days. This does not include, like I said, my social media output where I am far more productive, this is just my fiction and some editing work for friends.

(Which side note: this is not to flex, or to say that others should be able to achieve this level of output. I am a professional writer, this is my main job and only source of income. And also, I was forged in the fires of understaffed editing hell where we would be expected to churn out 100k+ a week in edits and revisions to keep on track. I have the time and a learned skillset I have spent years amassing to be able to do this and am working towards a rigid deadline. I simply have not been healthy enough in a long time to manage it, and am finally working my way back up to speed after years of illness. Don’t look at this and think, “I’m not achieving enough”, every victory no matter how small is worth celebrating. And I say that with the utmost sincerity, as someone who spent most of the last 2-3 years unable to get out of bed.)

I’ve also started using it to help keep track of bills and chores around the home. So every time something gets done/done on time, whoever completed the task gets a star on the calendar. This includes Oppy the Not-A-Roomba, who does a very good job of taking care of the house on a daily basis:

ID: an image of a chore calendar denoting various tasks that have been marked off with a holographic silver star sticker, including our robot vacuum who does an excellent job and deserves all the stars. (Our names got blurred out cause ETD doesn’t want his real name out there in the world, so that’s what is blurry.)

This system is useful for several reasons, the primary one being a sense of achievement and continued motivation, and the second, to allow you to review each month to see where you are doing well, and where you might otherwise be struggling.

For example, if I have a bad day for writing or decide to take a day off, I write that down in the calendar rather than leaving it blank, so that I have a record of what went wrong (or right, if I am electing to self care that day and take a day off) and how my overall progress is doing.

In terms of house stuff, this has been especially useful for ETD and myself, as it shows us where we are managing to do a good job with the house, and where our executive dysnfunction issues really trip us up and where we need to make improvements. And I don’t just mean in an “I should try harder way”, I mean you have to actively sit down and be like “hey! What is preventing me from completing this thing” and trying to figure out effective ways to either get around it or resolve a larger issue at hand.

So for us, the biggest thing we tend to miss is doing dishes after dinner, meaning we get left with a pile-up of dishes to deal with first thing in the morning, and my ADHD can’t handle that. It won’t let me eat until I’ve cleared all the mess, but I usually don’t have the energy to clean up if I haven’t eaten, so it’s this awful cycle of ineptitude. We’re doing better with the star reward system, cause it’s showing us our progress loud and clear on the fridge door, but we are both usually so fatigued and exhausted by the end of dinner that doing dishes is just one thing too many for our mutual disorders. So, the solution for this would, of course, be a dishwasher, cause if we had one of those, we could load stuff in, turn it on, and let those dishes get done while we go to bed then put them away in the morning. We can’t afford to do that right now, and we have other appliances we need to buy/replace before we can do that (still don’t have a tumble dryer, or a washer I can access, rip) but it does give us a tangible goal to work toward, and also, the motivation to keep on top of things because it goes from “an endless task with no end in sight” to “there’s a solution for this, we can manage a while longer.”

Now you could be saying, but Joy, I’m an adult! Surely I shouldn’t expect rewards for completing every day tasks that I should be able to do?!

To which I say, neurotypical people get rewards all the time and get an unconscious dose of dopamine/serotonin from their brains every time they complete a task. They’re playing the game of life on easy mode, the gold star is your achievement for completing it daily on Nintendo 99 hard mode. IF THE STICKER WORKS, TAKE THE STICKER

YOU’VE EARNED IT.

[adhdmorelikeyaydhd]

do you have any tips for studying with adhd

[cracks knuckles] alright here are the things that work the best for me:

General study tips: 

Study in a library/study area/empty classroom. I’m more likely to actually study because other people are there + it’s usually a very organised space.

COVID version: if public areas are closed try to study in a room that is not your bedroom. Only bring the things you need for studying)

Study with other people!!! 

COVID version: videocall your friend/partner/study buddy. If their ‘people noises’ (breathing, typing) distract you too much you can both mute your microphone and just wave at each other sometimes.

Study in time blocks! I personally study for 20 minutes, take a short break, then study for 20 minutes again. You can do shorter or longer blocks if you prefer!

Figure out a reward system. I give myself gold star stickers when I finish a chapter/complete an exercise/etc. It sounds childish but it works for me! 

Tips for reading: 

Read texts out loud. 

Figure out the best medium for you. I started printing texts instead of reading them from my laptop because it was easier for me to focus on actual paper. 

If you have to read long texts, use markers! Use one colour for every date or year, another colour for every name. Use a third colour for important sentences. Scribble your notes in the margins! 

Tips for writing essays/papers: 

Puke words first and don’t worry too much about structure or proper grammar. Go back and edit it later. 

Set (very) small goals. I am currently working on my thesis and I try to write 100 words a day. That is not a lot & that is good because it means I can still reach my goal on bad days! 

I hope this helps, good luck! 

[akatsuki-shin]

Review: Scum Villain’s Self-saving System (SVSSS)

Notes:

(Very) long post ahead

Contains spoiler

This is my personal review and does not represent the entire audience, you are free to agree or not agree with what I’ve written here

Feel free to reply/send me a message if there are things you want to discuss

Summary:

SVSSS tells the story of Shen Yuan, an avid web novel reader - particularly the stallion genre - who died suddenly from food-related incident after having just finished reading a famous (yet controversial) web-novel "Proud Immortal Demon Way".

Upon his wake, he discovered that he had been transmigrated into the world of that very novel, moreover into the body of the story's most-hated scum villain, Shen Qingqiu.

In his previous life, Shen Yuan had frequently criticized the "Proud Immortal Demon Way" and its author, "Airplane Shooting towards the Sky", for he found the web novel full of wasted potentials. Now having been sent to live in that novel's story, a mysterious system assigned him with a mission to fix the very plot he had been denouncing - and of course, to save himself from the tragic end of the original Shen Qingqiu, who was fated to be mutilated into a human stick by the story's protagonist, Luo Binghe, his own disciple.

STORY: 7/10

I personally have not read a lot of "isekai" stories. However, what makes SVSSS interesting to me, compared to most transmigration stories I've seen in the past, is because the main character was not thrown into a completely strange, unknown world, but rather into the universe of a novel he had been closely following up until the very last second of his life.

And what's more? He does not have complete freedom in modifying the story however he wants, but supervised by a mysterious system that will reward him for correct decisions, and punish him for wrong choices - with being deported to his original world as the ultimate punishment should his points fall below the set limit (a.k.a. he would really lose his life because he is already dead in his original world).

The fact that Shen Yuan, now living as Shen Qingqiu, possessing complete knowledge of the original story, yet still unable to foresee what butterfly effect his actions will cause to the plot and characters is perhaps the most appealing aspect of this novel.

Shen Qingqiu in his previous life was no different than us - a normal, modern young man from the 21st century. His thoughts and opinions on the situation, the way he reacts on certain matters, his internal monologues are all realistic and easily relatable. It feels as if I myself have partly become Shen Qingqiu, as well, looking at how the story progresses from a first person point of view, because if I were to be in his shoes, I would probably react in the exact same way as a modern person thrown into an ancient fantasy world.

Nevertheless, this "omniscient reader" point of view is not without a flaw. Although Shen Qingqiu himself is gradually blending in, accepting his new life in the ancient cultivation world and no longer seeing the other characters as mere "fictional characters", because his mindset is that of a modern man, I find it difficult for myself as the reader to perceive the world of SVSSS as an actual, stand-alone world. Until the very last page of the story, I still feel like I'm looking at a fictional world, feeling detached to the universe and characters because I'm not "living" in it.

Another aspect that I think could've been improved is the romance development between Shen Qingqiu and Luo Binghe. I have full confidence that post-story Shen Qingqiu loves Luo Binghe with all his heart, but I seriously have no idea when and how he reached that point.

In the first half of the story, upon having accepted his new life as Shen Qingqiu, his feeling towards Luo Binghe is more like fondness and endearment. Perhaps he does like the character Luo Binghe, and considering that he, along with the rest of the web novel's readers, hated the original Shen Qingqiu to the core, of course he wants to treat Luo Binghe and the other characters better (otherwise, how could he save himself from that nightmarish fate as a human stick).

Later on, he learns of his mistake, how he could've made better decisions, and tried to understand Luo Binghe better, redeeming himself. Perhaps his love towards Luo Binghe began to grow along this path, but I honestly don't see it being told to me, as the reader. All of a sudden he is willing enough to "offer" himself to calm the maddened Luo Binghe. He's been proclaiming himself as a straight man all this time and never once did I see him agreeing with himself that he is going to accept his feelings for Luo Binghe. When I read this later part, I feel like I've just jumped over a huge chunk of development. Because up until that point, Shen Qingqiu still only gives me the feeling of a teacher who adores and cares for a special disciple of his.

All in all, if I were to summarized the plot, I think SVSSS is an interesting, curious story. The fact that Shen Qingqiu was tasked to fix the original novel's flaws makes me want to continue reading for as long as I can. What change is he going to make? What effect will be caused and what chain of events will follow? Furthermore, if you're looking for comedy, then you've come to the right place. With an internet-literate modern man experiencing living in an ancient, fantasy novel, Shen Qingqiu's reactions will never be boring to see. Even the banters and exchanges between characters are so realistic to the point that it is almost possible to imagine them visually.

Also, BingQiu is cute, I take no criticism.

CHARACTERS: 6/10

The distribution of that overall score of "6" is actually as follows:

3 --> Shen Qingqiu

1 --> Shen Jiu

1 --> Luo Binghe + Yue Qingyuan

0.5 --> Liu Qingge

0.5 --> Everybody else

Notice that in the previous section, I barely talk about any other character than Shen Qingqiu? It's not just because he is the main character, but because the other characters are seriously that un-interesting. In fact, I regret to say that personally, I think the characters are this novel's weakest point.

Or to be more precise, the characters' depth.

Shen Qingqiu by himself is a great character. He is calm, logical, knows when and where to put his "omniscient reader" knowledge to good use. He is effortlessly hilarious even if he himself doesn't realize it, but at the same time, despite the mountain of curses he often uses, he is still a good person at heart. I think he is the sole reason that the story could remain interesting until the very end.

But sometimes he is a bit too ideal, almost always having the correct solution and/or countermeasure to every situation even if the plot has changed massively from the original web novel that he knows. Especially when it turns out that he has discovered a way to revive himself after self-destructing at Huayue City, it makes his initially heartbreaking sacrifice less......touching. Because it feels as if he's been scheming this to be freed from the current ordeal, maybe to escape the system, as well.

Furthermore, no matter how much of an expert he was of the "Proud Immortal Demon Way" universe, he still just passed away and was transmigrated into a foreign world. Although the system initially banned him from being OOC, other than some panicky internal monologue, there was almost no trace of him looking distraught when being faced with the unthinkable situation.

Plus, Shen Yuan was different from Airplane Shooting towards the Sky who, even if he were to return to his original world, would have nobody waiting for him. The description of his family was pretty clear. Not only he comes from a well-off household, his family seems to be quite a happy and harmonious one (especially how he used to dote on his younger sister). How come there is not one single moment when he thinks about the family he has left behind and simply carries on with his new life as if nothing happened?

Now Luo Binghe, the second main lead and the one paired with Shen Qingqiu.

Before he fell into the Eternal Abyss, his character actually seems pretty solid. But post-darkening, I don't know why I can't get a good grasp of his character.

The "clingy, crybaby boyfriend" aspect is pretty clear, no complaint there (although the moments of his crying feels too comical for me). Other than that, I don't really feel the "powerful Demon Lord" vibe from him.

Yes, there are descriptions of how powerful he is, how frightening he can be. But it's just not solid enough for me. I understand that he is supposed to be a character with unstable mental, but there are simply not enough part where he is shown to be a proper, powerful Demon Lord because he keeps breaking down each and every single time. The "glass heart maiden" aspect isn't bad, but when it's used in an overly comical way, the character simply loses the charm he's supposed to have.

Even Yue Qingyuan, who's only a minor character, had such a strong charm that slaps you with the biggest plot twist in the whole story when it was revealed (to us, the readers) who he actually is.

Ironically, the original Luo Binghe (Bing-ge) was able to present the character's true image and complexity even if he only appear in less than 10% of the entire story.

And even more ironically, the original Shen Qingqiu a.k.a. Shen Jiu, is probably the most complex character to have ever existed in there (and he only appears in, what, a couple of extra chapters).

(You know what? If MXTX just goes with the original Luo Binghe x Shen Qingqiu, including all of their complexity, I think the development, conflict, and resolution could've been more deep and complex - but yeah, it ain't gonna be "Scum Villain's Self Saving System)

Liu Qingge is okay and actually quite lovable. It's just that I feel it's too easy for him to appear anytime, anywhere there is a problem, as if he's some easy way out.

Other than those I've mentioned above, I literally don't have anything to comment on the other characters because... I don't even know if there's anything to comment. They really come and go just like that and leave no big impression on me.

TECHNICAL ASPECTS: 6/10

This here is basically just some technical things that were a bit unfortunate, because if only they were improved, the story could've been better.

1. The story is clearly written from Shen Qingqiu's point of view, but it will suddenly switch to Luo Binghe's inner thoughts every now and then, making it inconsistent.

2. Description of time and environment. Sometimes it's really difficult to tell in what kind of place the scene is happening, whether it was day or night, whether the characters still remain in the same place or have move elsewhere. Transition when switching locations is also not described enough.

3. As much as I love the story, I feel like it's progressing too fast without any significant crisis. It just ends like that with no massive ordeal or mystery to be solved. I think this is related to Shen Qingqiu's "omniscient reader" point of view because it makes me feel like "hmm yeah, it's just another part of the story, they're going to go through this just fine"

Still, I understand that this is MXTX's first novel. In fact, most of the aforementioned issues (including the characters) have undergone immense improvement in her second novel (MDZS), so I don't think I have anything to worry about.

OVERALL SCORE: 6.3/10

It's worth to read, really. If you just want to enjoy a cool, funny, and cute "isekai" story, I can definitely recommend this. But don't expect some deep philosophical shit, because half of this novel is made of shitpost (I shit you not).

Moral of the story though?

See how market demand kills content creators' freedom and creativity.

Airplane Shooting towards the Sky, the author of the controversial stallion "Proud Immortal Demon Way" literally told Shen Qingqiu at the final chapter of the main story:

He's actually written deep, aesthetic stories before, but they were all unpopular. Only when he wrote this harem novel full of fan-service - disregarding plot depth, plot holes, cheap characterizations - did he finally gain popularity and was able to obtain sufficient income to feed himself.

He was grateful to Shen Qingqiu for "messing" up the plot of his novel, changing it into how it is now, because it allows everything he originally wanted to write - but couldn't - to come true.

In previous chapters, he also said that he actually wanted to make the original Shen Qingqiu into a three-dimensional, more complex characters, but the netizens didn't appreciate it and were complaining instead. Hence he was forced to make the original Shen Qingqiu into a plain old scum villain with no redeeming quality at all - even though in his original script, this character has a complex background that causes his current known personality.

Shen Qingqiu and Shang Qinghua might be talking about it in their usual, funny bantering, but who dares to say that this isn't an issue being faced by almost all content creators in the whole world?

How many content creators have been forced to sacrifice the creativity value and quality of their work in order to satisfy the taste of majority?

How many content creators have been made to revise their works by editors in order to fit into a certain agenda or market trend?

Unless you're a massively popular creator or a powerful individual, chances are you will never have the chance to create a content you truly want to make for a living.

In any case, there may be other authors who are better than MXTX in this world, but I love her works because despite the fictional content, the comedy, the silliness, etc, there are still at least one aspect that reflects the situation of the real, current world, and when you realize it, the realization can be quite a slap to the face like "hey, wait a minute, she's right you know?" See less

[onwardintolight]

Han x Leia, ESB, Trip to Bespin, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff

Summary: ESB from Leia's POV. A journey from despair to hope, a blossoming, an opening to vulnerability and love.

Warnings: Deals with some heavy themes, incl. working through trauma, depression, self-harm, attempted sexual assault. Each chapter will be individually warned.

Note: I’m currently in the process of reposting the first nine chapters here in full, since when I first wrote this fic, I only shared links to the chapters on AO3 and FFN. I will try to post at least weekly. In the meantime, if you’d prefer to binge-read it, the entire fic is posted in full on AO3 and FFN.

Part: Masterlist | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | Epilogue

~~~

Author’s note from 1/2020: 

Wow. Where to begin? I can hardly believe that after almost three and a half years, The Opening is finally coming to end. A HUGE thank you to all of you who have supported me, whether in those early days of writing or recently as I've been posting. Your encouragement and responses have kept me going when I felt like giving up and have given me more joy than I can possibly express.

This fic has meant so very much to me, more than words can say. It is Leia's story, but it is also my story. I've poured out my entire heart and soul into it, and in turn it's helped me heal. I hope that even a tiny bit of that encouragement spills over to you, even if it's just the knowledge that it's okay to not be okay. Struggling doesn't make you weak—just the opposite. Healing is a long journey, but it is possible. Hope always wins.

If you finish this and would like more, my one-shot Found is a companion piece of sorts—a happy, final epilogue after what's lost has been found again.

You can also check out the soundtrack I made to go with this fic here!

Again, thank you so much for going on this journey with me. May we all open ourselves more and more.

~~~

Epilogue

She talked to Luke before they reached the Alliance; she waited until he was awake again and starting to ask questions. The look of shock, horror, and grief on his face when she told him about Han nearly made her weep all over again. Soon, though, he was all determination, somehow her sun once more despite the pain that still haunted the hollows of his face. “We’ll get him back, Leia,” he said, grasping her hand in his remaining one. His eyes flickered to the side, staring unseeing at a spot on the wall. “We’ve got to trust the Force,” he murmured.

The Force. She closed her eyes, prepared to swallow down a wave of bitterness that never came. Instead, she was left with a vague sense of emptiness, sadness, and confusion. Perhaps it was their nothing-short-of-miraculous escape from Bespin that had softened her resentment. The Force had certainly seemed to… intervene, somehow, what with that vision she’d had of Luke. She let out a breath.

Was he right? Could the Force be trusted? Was the Force truly, as her parents had told her—as she herself had once believed—at work in the galaxy, ensuring hope and light would never be fully lost? Luke seemed determined to think so, despite whatever he had suffered; despite whatever heaviness he wore on his heart that made her fear he might crumple.

Relating what had happened to Alliance Intelligence and the few present members of High Command after their arrival on the Remembrance was just as difficult as her conversation with Luke and far less rewarding. She was quizzed about every aspect of their escape from Hoth and their subsequent ordeal on Bespin. She found she couldn’t look anyone in the eyes as she told them about the particular torture methods the Empire had used this time, both sanctioned and unsanctioned. And it took every ounce of her resolve to keep from breaking down as she relayed what had happened to Han.

For a moment, her eyes darted across the table to Rieekan. He was looking at her with such sorrow, understanding, and compassion that she somehow wanted to both shrink away from him and fall crying into his arms like she’d once done with her parents as a little girl. He caught up with her in the hallway afterwards as she walked back to the Falcon to grab her things. “Leia,” he said, “If you need anything—if there’s anything I can do—”

“Thank you, Carlist,” she replied, echoing his informality.

He paused. “I know Intelligence wasn’t too happy about Chewbacca and Calrissian’s plans to leave for Tatooine, but I want you to know I’m behind them all the way.” He lowered his voice. “Han Solo was a good man,” he said, his eyes piercing Leia with a meaningful stare. “Don’t give up hope. We’ll do what we can.”

Nodding, she swallowed down the lump in her throat. She doubted the Alliance would ever be able to spare the resources to mount a rescue operation for one person, but she appreciated Rieekan’s support anyway.

“For so long I thought… I thought…” He stopped, shaking his head, and smiled at her wistfully. “I’m just glad you’re back.”

She smiled back at him. It felt foreign—had she smiled at all since Bespin?—but somehow her heart felt a little warmer.

After she had located her packing crates from Hoth and moved into her new quarters, she headed for the conference room she had reserved for her meeting with Luke, Chewie, and Lando. Their plan didn’t take long to formulate—by necessity, it wasn’t much of one; not yet. Chewie and Lando would scout ahead on Tatooine, locate Han, and figure out what they were up against. When the time was right, Luke and Leia would join them for the extraction. If High Command will let me, Leia thought cynically. If I let me. She was already feeling the pull of her duty to the Alliance and, along with it, the familiar impulse to sacrifice all personal desires.

She frowned, remembering where that impulse had gotten her in the past. She’d had no hope, then—for the Alliance, yes, but not for herself. It had not gotten her far. While she would still gladly lay down her life for the Rebellion, she could no longer neglect the things that made life worth living in the first place.

Somehow, she’d have to fight for both. She’d just have to figure out how.

~~~

The next day, after giving Chewie a goodbye hug—«Take good care of yourself, Little Princess,» he had said—she headed to Luke’s room in the medbay.

It was still too soon, she knew, for them to talk much about what had happened. Aside from the knowledge that he had fought Vader on Cloud City, she still didn’t know the details about what haunted him, and she didn’t ask. Likewise, she didn’t yet feel able to tell him about what had blossomed between her and Han on the trip to Bespin. Somehow, though, she felt that he already knew, and that comforted her.

Mostly, they were silent, taking solace in each other’s nearness. Now, in their suffering, they seemed to understand each other more than they ever had before.

The medical droid returned to activate the brand new prosthetic hand Luke had received the night before. Leia watched, mildly intrigued, as it ran a series of tests to ensure the hand had been calibrated correctly.

Artoo and Threepio, now whole, gleaming, and happily reunited, had come to visit, too. They stood uncharacteristically silent in front of the large window, looking out on the newborn solar system nearby. The protostar at the center burst with brilliant light, illuminating the vast clouds of dust and matter that ringed it. It was a spectacular sight.

Once again, Leia wondered at the depth of the droids’ sentience. Emotion and appreciation for beauty were not things one normally expected in a droid… but then again, homesickness and a longing for companionship weren’t, either, and she had learned that lesson well to the contrary.

“Luke,” Lando’s voice broke through the comm, “we’re ready for takeoff.”

“Good luck, Lando,” he replied.

“When we find Jabba the Hutt and that bounty hunter, we’ll contact you.”

“I’ll meet you at the rendezvous point on Tatooine.”

“Princess,” Lando said, his voice growing somber, “we’ll find Han. I promise.”

Another rush of emotion filled her at Han’s name. There’d been so many of those lately, threatening her with sudden tears, and she hated it. Better this than being numb and hopeless, she thought. Better this than never having loved him.

“Chewie, I’ll be waiting for your signal,” Luke was saying. “Take care you two. May the Force be with you.”

«Until our branches entwine again, cubs,» said Chewie. «I won’t be around to rip the arms off your enemies for awhile, so don’t get into too much trouble!”

Leia almost laughed, and Luke grinned back at her.

She missed Han’s laugh.

Her smile fading, she walked over to the window. He was out there, somewhere. The distance between them seemed impossibly far, the search impossibly long. There was a chance he was already gone forever. There was an aching hole in her heart that she wasn’t sure could ever be healed.

Luke came up beside her, and she glanced at him.

He knew. He understood.

He wrapped his arm around her, his new hand gently squeezing her shoulder. She leaned into him, taking a deep breath.

Whatever happened, she would be brave. She would love. She would live.

She would open herself up to a galaxy of hope.

And someday, she told herself, it would all be worth it.

It was worth it already.

The Millennium Falcon rose in front of them, soaring away into the stars.

[nona-gay-simus-main]

Top 5 Writing Habits:

These are some of the writing habits I learned or am still learning, now that I am actually trying to take my writing seriously. I think it’s advice other writers can benefit from, as well.

1. Working with a CP to keep you on schedule

I’ve tried many a time to write a first draft by myself, but what always happens is that I just don’t write. So I took the advice of @hanniepee​‘s YouTube and I started exchanging chapters with another writer every week.

Now that I know someone is depending on getting my next chapter by a certain date, I can’t  just not write (barring breaks where I need to focus on something slightly more important like exams) and bonus, I’m getting critique as I write, instead of having to wait for it after. That means I can start on draft 2, pretty fast.

2. DON’T edit as you go.

Obviously once I’ve written something I’ll go over it and edit it a bit. Also, I’m a chronic under-describer so I’ll add those descriptions. And sometimes I’ll make big changes before sending it to a different CP to get their opinion on the newer and improved version of the story, but I try my best to avoid line edits.

There’s always a line edit or two you could find to make, but since this is the first draft and you’ll change much of it anyway, there’s no point in wasting your time doing line edits. Remember that the goal of your first draft is to FINISH it. You can find the right words later.

3. Outlining

I know, I know, everyone is pantser. Or at least we’d like to think we are, but the truth is that very few people are true pantsers.

I think a lot of people hear the word “outlining” and freak out, because they think it means they need to write a summary of every chapter and every scene in the chapter. And maybe for some writers such ridiculously detailed outlines are the way to go, but if that’s not you, that’s okay. Don’t panic.

My outlines are just very basic lists of stuff I want to happen in a chapter. Truth is, I still pants most of my novel. But having even just a general guideline can’t do anything BUT help. 

And if you’re still unsure that outlining is for you, consider whether you’ve actually finished a draft and how long did it take? 

Because the last draft I pantsed all the way through, took me a year and a half to finish and I ended up scrapping it and starting again. 

If this sounds familiar to you, maybe pantsing isn’t actually working as well as you think.

4. Keeping Everything in One Place

Scrivener is literally my lifeline, guys. I used to have so many documents before, it was hard to keep track. In Scrivener I can divide my story into chapters and scenes or in any other way I want.

Not only that, but I have a place to keep all my outtakes, pre-written scenes, notes, world-building, character profiles, and literally anything I want that’s connected to the current project.

I use Scrivener because it has plenty of features I find very useful, and it only has a single price of 49.99$,  unlike other softwares that require a subscription. But if Scrivener is not he right software for you there are other options out there and I sincerely encourage you to look into them.

5. Reward System

This is a habit i haven't gotten into yet, but I want to. I waste a lot of time watching TV shows and YouTube videos instead of completing my writing/reading goals, so if you're like me, you could use those episodes or videos as a reward after a completed goal.

Or sweets. Or whatever works best as motivation for you.

Let’s be the best writers we can be together!

[antihero-writings]

Gods and Gravity—Chapter 1: Part 1: Autopilot—MCU/Gravity Falls Crossover (Full fic–LONG post incoming)

Fic Title: Gods and Gravity

Fic Synopsis: What's more fun than making Loki, Peter Parker, Wanda Maximoff, and Shuri interact within the MCU? Forcing them to live together at the Mystery Shack in Gravity Falls!

Chapter Title: Autopilot

Character Focus:  Loki, Peter Parker, Wanda

Notes: The following is a fic I spent pretty much the entirety of my 2018 summer working on writing, (and the next three months editing.) To this day (summer 2019) I am still trying to learn to write comedy, and this was one of my first attempts at comedy, as well as one of the longest fics I'd posted (on Ao3), and for those reasons alone it was a valuable learning experience for me. At the time I had a full plot for this planned out, and had every intention of making it into a long series. I still love this fic, I am proud of it, it makes me smile, I still have those ideas written down somewhere, and I hope to return to it someday.

However, the lack of comments I received on it, after six months of intense effort was very discouraging, and I lost momentum, and haven't worked on it since.

Knowing this, I couldn't keep my original note from Ao3, and I cannot make any promises that this fic will go anywhere. But, at the same time, I would still very very deeply appreciate your comments and encouragement, and would be much much more likely to continue this fic, even now, if I hear people are enjoying it. As I said, I love the idea, and would love to keep working on it, so please don't hesitate to let me know if you love it too!

Chapter 1, Part 1: 

Are you aware of where you are? Oh, I don’t mean to be rude. Welcome.

You must be looking for some sort of introduction. Humans are so particular about things like that. You cannot cast your voice into the dark and expect to understand the echo. You’re not a thing like me.

Afraid. Is that the word? You’re afraid of that which you do not know. In the end, it’s the only thing you’re ever really afraid of. You can only speak to those who are no longer strange. I can’t say I understand the feeling. Knowing is my job, is it not?

Of course, you wouldn’t. It’s not your occupation, after all. And the unknown, well…its not so strange as you may first think. Sometimes it speaks with your own face.

Me. That is the only name I need to know. I am, nevertheless, quite fond of human proclivity to naming things. I find it…what’s the word? Cute? That must be it. I have no need of such titles myself though. Make something up for me, will you? Your imagination is far more powerful than anything I could tell you. I am quite curious to see what’s in your mind.

You must want some introduction of your own. Would you like me to tell the others? Sing a song in your honor? No, I suppose that would be embarrassing. Quite affective in ancient society though, I must say. To be perfectly frank, I don’t think it’s a very good idea anyways. Not here. Not today. Not, yet, at least.

Mustn’t proclaim your existence to those who know not of it, right? Might scare them off. Might not. They are quite resilient after all. Still…

Be not afraid. That’s what they say, right? But would they be? Perhaps its too soon to tell. Perhaps it’s always to soon to tell. Are you? Afraid, that is. No? I suppose there isn’t anything to be afraid of. Fear makes everything more… complicated. Sometimes that’s a good thing. Others it’s not. This time I’m not quite sure which way it would fall.

I know you’re here for something. What is it?

Have you come for answers? Questions? Just a good story?

Come for that. The story. Or come for something else, and stay for it. It’s a good one, I’ll say. Not that a stranger’s opinion means much.

To Gravity Falls. I am well acquainted with such a place. Quite fond of it. It’s home to all manor of strangers though, so I’m not quite sure you’re ready. It’s full of, shall we say, imagination. You are looking for my Gravity Falls, are you not? The one with the gods and heroes. I am aware that there exist many tales about Gravity Falls, all sprung from one. Regrettably, I exist in only this one—and not the original. I know of the others though. And while I exist in the universe of the gods and heroes, there I am shut up in stones and eyes, and not-quite-men, and king’s instruments; I have no voice.

Set down your own worries a while. This is a fun story, I promise. Lose yourself in it.

You came here, for whatever reason. It matters no longer. You are here now. And maybe, just maybe, you could help me.

Free. It is such an elusive thing; freedom. Do you think this story will help you earn that freedom? I think it could help me earn mine. If freedom is a thing we must earn, of course, rather than it being given us, or ingrained in us from the start. And so could you. Help, that is. Could, being the key word here. The question is, will you?

  “Dude, how many cups of coffee have you had?”

Loki’s eyes darted from the mug in his hand, to the girl in front of him, Michelle, who clearly thought his overseeing of his employees’ task was invitation for conversation.

Loki sighed. Out of all the conditions one might be in when talking to teenagers, fatigue is not the most suitable. It would be important to make a mental note of this for the coming summer.

“If you must know, I am currently on my third.”

“Third of the week or…?”

“Of the day.” He leaned against the side of the archway between the living room and stairway.

Her face puckered like she’d eaten something sour.

“Then…why do you still look like that?”

He lowered the mug, tapping his fingers on the porcelain, trying to figure out the least insulting phrasing. “This may come as a shock to you, but honesty is not always the best policy.”

The other teen who currently worked for him, and who was carrying a particularly large box down from the attic, stopped to join the conversation. Ned glanced between them. “Yeah, who needs honesty, psh…What are you guys talking about?”

“Miss Jones has taken this opportunity to judge my daily caffeine intake. Which, quite frankly, I could live without.”

“I thought you said honesty wasn’t the best policy.”

He stuck his tongue out at her.

“Oh, yeah—Have you not seen him do that?” Ned asked. “He drinks like ten cups of coffee, it does nothing to him. You’d swear he’s like actually a god, or something.”

“While it’s enlightening that caffeine immunity is enough for you to come to that conclusion, I’ll have you know, it does work on me, it just takes a rather high quantity.”

“Dude, I’ve never seen you hyper.”

“Maybe he’s a robot.” Michelle offered.

“Or maybe you’ve just never seen me on my good days.” Loki fixed his eyes intently on Ned, and his gaze didn’t waver as he lifted the mug to take an uncomfortably long sip.

“Ohh crap that’s terrifying.” Ned whispered.

Loki swallowed and shrugged. Still-got-it.

“Can I have some of that?” Michelle leaned over the bannister from the stairs side, trying to get a whiff of the drink.

Loki tossed the mug to his other hand, and turned towards the living room so she could no longer get close. “No.”

“Why not?”

“The thought may be lost on you, but I’m not paying you to sit around and drink coffee. I may have to withdraw some of your pay for these last few moments.”

“Y-You wouldn’t do that.” Ned sweated nervously.

Loki lifted his head, looking at him out of the corner of his eye. “Would you truly like to risk it?”

That was enough to encourage Ned to get back to work.

“What if I told you I’d be more productive if I had some caffeine my system?” Michelle was undaunted.

Loki tilted his head to the side. “I’d tell you I don’t make a habit of being charitable.”

“Aww, I bet you’re a big teddy bear on the inside,” she mocked him with a baby voice.

Loki rolled his eyes, turning fully away.

“Come on,” she hopped onto the ground floor, “You know denying it just makes us want to find all your little weaknesses, right?” She came up behind him.

“By all means, look away. I promise you you won’t find anything on me.”

“Don’t be too sure.”

She turned, about to go back to work, but paused to ask, “What’s your excuse?”

“Your meaning?”

“Why do you get to sit around drinking coffee?”

“Other than being the one with the authority? I didn’t sleep well last night.”

Images of rusting dials, twisted metal, broken, blinking lights, and calculations his brain was too tired to finish came to mind. What exactly had compelled him to spend the entirety of the night prior working on that infernal machine, when he had teenagers coming to live with him the next day, he couldn’t say.

Or, more likely, it was because three teenagers were coming to live with him.

“Satisfied?” he asked.

She shrugged. “I just didn’t want to have to call an intervention.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“You know…an intervention?” she repeated.

It was apparent that he didn’t.

Her brows furrowed. “Where… someone calls all your friends and family together to make you admit there’s a problem?”

“Sounds revolting. It appears its rather rewarding not to have friends.” He took a last sip of coffee.

“Uhh…what about family?”

“That too.” He swallowed.

It seemed like she was about to argue, then she shrugged, and admitted to herself nah-that-sounds-about-right, and returned to her work.

Loki pointed after her, casting an illusion into one of the lower rooms.

“Hey, Ned! Come look at this giant spider I found!” Michelle called after a few minutes, a little too nonchalant for his enjoyment.

“What?!” Ned shrieked from the other room, “A spider?! Where?!”

The god of mischief frowned. That’s right; Michelle wasn’t exactly the kind of person to scare easily.

He twisted his wrist, making it appear to crawl away.

“Wait—nevermind—it ran away.”

“Phew! I mean—I wasn’t scared.”

Still, at least he got a few good screams out of someone. Besides, it was ample punishment for Ned’s incessant enthusiasm these past few weeks.

Mentions of “Peter’s going to love…” this, and “Oh man, Peter’s going to have so much fun…” that, had bombarded Loki throughout Ned’s first week back at work. When the god had learned it was Ned’s idea in the first place, firing him wasn’t looking like such a bad idea. That, or something a little more… substantial, that would really quiet his babble… But killing the mortal children was off the menu.

Another important reminder for the coming summer; if one of the young heroes went missing, it would raise more than a few unwanted questions. If Stark himself came down here, everything he worked for might be all over. But the amount he could learn was worth the risk. It would be fairly easy to avoid incident, and if something did come up, he would be able to deal with it (he had before, after all), as long as he could keep any killing urges in check, the summer shouldn’t be too eventful.

Michelle didn’t appear to feel all that strongly about the coming presence of the other mortal she knew, or, at least she had the presence of mind not to show her excitement with extreme chattiness, or mention of the oncoming storm, and carry out her assignments without bothering him.

At least, in general.

“I’m kinda surprised you agreed to this,” She insisted on pestering him, remarking a few trips later, carrying an old, crooked candelabra—(that he didn’t remember buying)—down from the attic. This was, of course, when Loki had settled into the chair in the living room with a book, attempting to find some peace and quiet. “I mean; you can barely stand being around us. And this is three more of us we’re talking about it.”

“Well, Stark’s large sum of payment did have its appeal at the time.”

“Hey paid you?”

“Yes,” Loki set his now empty coffee on the table beside the chair. “I am aware of how babysitting works.”

“Babysitting?”

“He may have prefaced it as a sort of summer camp.”

She snorted. “A summer camp that lasts the whole summer?”

He shrugged.

She stepped back down onto the bottom floor. “You really think a bit of cash is worth it?”

“Please. I’ve dealt with far worse.

“Oh really?”

“Now, for just one example.” He licked his finger to turn the page of his book.

Starks money. Sure, it had its appeal, but the more convincing issue at hand was the amount of information he could learn from them. It had been Stark himself who had called, which meant whoever he was sending on this particular excursion, despite their age, was close to him. The opportunity to learn a secret or two about those in the circle of heroes was rather high compensation, and at the time had seemed enough to justify a summer with a few teens (especially when putting said summer into the perspective of a god’s life). Now that their arrival was fast approaching, doubt had more than a few well-thought-out counterarguments.

“Alright.” She set down the candelabra. “How much you want to bet?”

“Pardon?”

“No seriously,” she tapped her chin, thinking, “Let’s say, the moment all three of them arrive, if you already want the summer to be over, you have to…” she smirked, “You have to show my artwork at the museum.”

“Sure, that seems fair. I’m the one suffering, and you get paid.”

She shrugged. “That’s how betting works. One person’s doubly miserable, the other’s doubly rich.” She rubbed her fingers together.

“Even if I was interested in this little farce—which, to be clear, I’m not—how would you be able to tell that I ‘want the summer to be over’?”

“You really think I won’t be able to tell?”

“Oh please.”

“Maybe you’ll just have to fess up.”

He laughed. “As if.”

“You think you’re ‘Mr. Mystery’ but maybe you’re not so mysterious as you think”

“Yeah, come back to that question in a while, sweetheart.” He paused. “And if I can, in fact, handle it, what am I to win?”

“Well, what do you want?”

“Dangerous words, girl.”

“Let’s see…How about, I have to work overtime whenever you ask?”

He weighed it. It was tempting. But it had to be something more humiliating than that…

“How about, if I win, you have to be the official mascot of the Mystery Shack. Whenever I ask you to put on a costume and dance out on the street, you must do so, no questions asked.” A maniacal smirk crossed his features.

“Ooh,” she sucked in a breath, stepping into the living room, “You’re right. That’s gonna be tough to beat. Too bad we’ll never get to see that.”

“Feel free to bow out if you’re afraid to lose.”

“Oh we’re way past that by now.”

“Very well. The wager is set.”

“Let’s shake on it.” She extended her hand.

He shook her hand once. “As the mortals say, you’re on, Miss Jones.”

“Uhh You’re on.”

As she turned to pick up the candelabra, Ned called nervously from the spare room on the first floor,

“Uhh…Mr Loki?”

“What is it now?”

“What do you want me to with these boxes that say ‘property of’ and then a crossed out name—that, I’m not gonna lie, I tried to read—‘do not touch’?”

Loki rubbed his temples. “What are you talking—?” then he stopped, realizing what was in that room, “Oh for the love of—give them to me.”

“Scooch.”

Peter Parker glanced up from his phone to see Mr. Stark leaning in the doorway of the car. Quickly obeying the request, he grabbed his backpack and shifted closer to the window.

Tony slid into the seat on the other side of the car, motioning to their current chauffer (that wasn’t his official job, but Peter often found him performing it) to drive. As if he had received a top-secret message, Happy gave a curt nod, turned the key, and the engine growled, signifying the start of their trip to the airport.

Tony flipped off his sunglasses as if trying to impress a few hundred cameras.

“Let’s have a chat. Man to—boy.”

“What is, Mr. Stark?” Peter decided not to object to the category he was placed under.

“Don’t,” Tony emphasized, “screw the pooch.”

Peter blinked, expecting something more. He nodded, saying awkwardly, “Yeah.”

Iron Man didn’t seem convinced.

“Okay…?”

Tony raised an eyebrow.

“I promise.” Peter added.

“Don’t mess with me now. Don’t make promises you can’t keep, little man.”

“With all due respect, what do you think’s gonna happen, Mr. Stark? It’s not like I’m going out there to save the world—which don’t you forget, I have done on more than one occasion.”

“Don’t get cocky. You were never saving the world. Leave that to the professionals.”

“Agree to disagree. Anyway, it’s just a summer camp, and it’s out in the middle of nowhere. Frankly there isn’t much there for me to screw up!”

“‘Just a summer camp, out in the middle of nowhere?’ Funny,” Tony put a hand to his chin in mock thoughtfulness, “that’s not how I recall you describing it when you were begging me to find a way for you to go. I pulled a number of strings to get you this, kid.”

“I wasn’t begging!”

“Uh huh.”

“I-I just thought it would be fun, that’s all! And, don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful!”

“Is that so?” he folded his arms over his chest.

“Come on, Mr. Stark. You get what I mean.”

“I do. But you’d be surprised. The middle of nowhere can be host to a whole gaggle of excitement;” he waved his fingers over him, “I once met a man there named Chad, who taught me the way of the goat. Pretty fun guy, Chad. Could do without the goat smell though.”

“Seriously?”

“Maybe. I had had my fair share of of Mexican ‘soda’s at the time, and may or may not have been slightly drunk. Okay, a lot drunk. Funnily enough I wasn’t actually in Mexico. Maybe that’s why I can’t remember much after that. Let’s hope you never find out. The point is,” he held up a finger, “you have a tendency for pooch-screwing, even in low-profile situations—no, especially in low-profile situations.” He poked him in the chest.

Peter turned his gaze out the window for a moment, watching the buildings fly by.

“I—I can keep a low profile,” he defended feebly, turning back to Mr. Stark.

Tony’s eyes narrowed. “The Christmas party.”

“Come on! I was admiring your suits (innocently, if I might add), you can understand that—”

“Aaand you broke one.”

“It was just one finger!”

“Happened to be a very important finger. A finger of sentimental value, if you will. In case you don’t remember, it’s the one that lets me do this:”

He flipped him off.

Peter rolled his eyes. “You fixed it like three seconds later.”

“You know,” Tony extended his fingers as if admiring a good manicure, “people say I got that finger from my great grandmother. It hurts Peter,” he put his hand over his heart, “it hurts,” he wiped away fake tears, “How could you disrespect Great Grammy Stark like that?”

Peter’s eyes narrowed. “They don’t say that.”

“How do you know? You think you know my family better than I do?”

“I’m just saying that—”

“You’re letting me get off topic. The point is, you were, as you say, ‘innocently observing my suits’—completely understandable, they’re the most amazing feats of technology most people ever get to see—and all it took was one little slip of the hand, and suddenly I’ve lost a very important finger. What happens when it’s not something that I can fix that easily? What if that was someone’s real finger? What if that was your finger?”

“Fingers don’t just fall off!”

“Maybe not, but trust can.”

“Huh?”

As they reached a stoplight, Mr. Stark leaned forward.

“Hey, Happy,” Tony pointed, “Could you get something from the thing between the front seats for me?”

“What—you mean this?” Happy pointed to the compartment he had been resting his elbow on.

“Yeah, that is what I’m pointing to. Can you pass me the—”

Happy held up the first thing he found, which was a lint roller.

“Why would I need that? Are you trying to tell me something about my suit?” he looked down at the perfectly tailored suit. “It’s my favorite suit, Happy.”

“I wasn’t! I���!”

“Why do you even I have that in there?”

“I just always like—it pays to be prepared, that’s all.”

“Don’t make me a part of your weird obsessions. Just pass me the M&Ms.”

“You got it.” Happy threw the brown package back to him, and Mr. Stark caught it. When he examined the label and color however, he leaned forward again. “Happy, these are regular M&Ms. Does it look like I’m a regular M&Ms man? Do you think I’m some plebian off the street?”

“All you said was M&Ms! You didn’t specify!” he protested, throwing back the peanut ones a bit less kindly, and Tony fumbled them.

“From now on, when I ask for M&Ms, I mean the peanut kind, not this pathetic excuse for a snack.”

“I’ll keep that in the ol’ mind palace.”

“Don’t refer to your mind as a palace. At best it’s a very small cabin. A hut. A hovel, if you will.”

“Oh yeah? What’s your mind, then?”

“Oh, my mind’s a five start resort, baby. You should visit some time…Not that I want you there.”

“Your confidence means a lot to me too, boss.”

“I hope so.”

“C-” Peter cleared his throat, leaning forward, “Can I have some of those?”

“Maybe. If you listen.” Tony bit the package to open it, “M&Ms are for people who listen.” He said, spitting out any plastic he had accidentally gotten into his mouth. He poured a handful of chocolates into his palm. “In the mean time, stay in your lane,” he pushed him back into his seat, “keep your mitts off my M&Ms.”

“Okay,” Tony resumed, throwing a few candies into his mouth, “So maybe it was just a finger I could fix like that”—he snapped his fingers—“But what if it wasn’t? What if it was a priceless heirloom my grandmother gave me? What would you have done then?”

“Still said I was sorry…?” Peter lifted his shoulders, “I would have felt worse about it though,” he made sure to add.

It didn’t seem to help.

“I don’t know what you want from me, Mr. Stark! I don’t intend to screw up!”

“Most people don’t. You know, I’m glad you brought that up,” he continued crunching on the M&Ms, “because it’s kind of the point of this little pep talk.” He pointed to peter. “Hate to admit it, but you remind me of me. Except without the devilishly handsome good looks, of course.”

“Hey!”

“You’re cute, I’ll give you that. But you’re like an oatmeal raisin cookie; it’s no one’s first choice, you’re not chocolate chip,” he brought his hands up to frame his own face, “but, hey, someone will eat it—Grandma made them, after all.”

“I think I’m at least—”

“Anyway, stop distracting me! You’re like me; you’re a trouble magnet. You and Trouble have a whole,” he waved his fingers, “scandalous affair.” He shuddered on purpose. “I’d like to compliment you on it, but whole point of an affair is to keep it on the down-low. And this, sir,” he circled his finger in the air in to refer to him, “is not the down-low. The sphere you’re working in is when you want your affair in the media. So as your standing guardian, it’s my job to either help keep it out of the public eye, or stop the affair altogether.”

Peter blinked. “I think I understood like half of that.”

“Alright, not my best analogy, but you get the gist.”

Peter looked out the window again. They were on the freeway now, getting closer to the airport. He was starting to see that this wasn’t the kind of debate he could win; this was one of those conversations where he was supposed to sit back and listen. He wasn’t particularly fond of those. Still, he didn’t foresee much happening out in Gravity Falls, Oregon, despite one of his interests in going being to study anomalies.

He had been careful not to mention that.

“Can I ask you something?” he turned back to him.

“As long as I can respectfully decline to answer.” He threw the last handful of chocolates into his mouth.

“Did you have this conversation with Wanda?”

“Alright, that I will answer,” he crumpled up the now empty M&M bag, turning to him. He put his arm around Peter, making a sweeping motion with his hand. “No.” He pointed to Peter. “And you know why? Because Wanda already knows not to screw the pooch. Last time she screwed the pooch, she did the walk of shame for at least a month. She’s Mellow Yellow, and you’re…that weird Mexican soda Chad gave me that one time. You’re the one who needs to be taught that pooches,” he waved a finger, “are not for screwing.”

Peter sighed as Mr. Stark let him go, staring at his hands, seriousness setting into his tone,

“I promise, Mr. Stark, I really do promise. I’m not gonna screw up this time.”

“Come on, don’t be like that.” Tony said after a pause.

“Like what?”

“Like you’re five years old, and I just told you you can’t have dessert.”

“Well, you kinda did.”

“Hey, leave my M&Ms out of this!” he hid the package ineptly behind him.

“Look, I just don’t think you’re giving me enough credit, Mr. Stark.”

“Oh I’m giving you plenty of credit. You know some of the things Happy’s told me about your little excursions?”

“Hey—”

“Let’s see, there’s the time you stole someone’s dog that was sitting outside a grocery store, because you thought it was being mistreated—it wasn’t. Or how about when you tried to bust a bunch of gang members, who turned out to be just the local goth kids hanging around?”

“Hey, those kids were shifty, anyone could have made that mistake!”

“Oh, and one of my personal favorites, the time you brought a guy in because you thought he was breaking into someone’s car. Turns out he had just forgotten his keys, and was late for a job interview. Which, because of you, he missed. I”—He pointed to himself— “had to give him a job in the end, which you don’t seem to realize, seems to be the cycle with your mistakes—I’m the one who pays the price.”

“Well, hey, you have to admit, he did get a better job because of me.”

“Don’t put a positive spin on this!”

“Look, I won’t screw up this time. Okay? Satisfied?” Peter’s frustration was reaching his tongue.

After a moment of silence, Mr. Stark cleared his throat.

“That’s good,” he said a bit more softly. “Better than good, it’s great. But, unfortunately, no, I’m not satisfied; there is one more teensy, little thing I’m gonna need from you.”

“What is it?” Peter said to the back of Happy’s chair.

“Where’s the suit?”

Peter sat up, his eyes widening. Then, realizing how telling that was, he crossed his arms and legs, clearing his throat, lowering his voice.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Tony’s eyes narrowed.

“Mr. Stark, as I said, I’m gonna be out in the middle of nowhere, with my friends, as well as people who don’t know that I’m Spider-man, you really think I brought the suit?”

“Cut the crap, who do you think you’re talking to?”

The young superhero sighed, conceding. He glanced between the car windows as if the people in the cars next to them could see through the strongly-tinted glass, while they were going sixty miles per hour. Leaning forward, he gently unzipped the back of the backpack at his feet just enough to reveal a splash of red.

“Yeah…I’m gonna need that.”

“What?!” Peter blurted out, feeling his confidence plummet like the elevator in Washington, “But Mr. Stark—!”

“You better believe it, Spider-Boy.”

“I don’t understand!” Peter’s voice was becoming a whine, “I thought I earned it.”

He had been trying his best to sit back and listen, and already felt like he wasn’t getting his points in, and now Mr. Stark was going to take away the last thing that was important to him? Nope. Not happening.

“Hey now.” Happy had been glancing back to them in the mirror as he drove. Noticing the rise in tension, he cut in, “Am I gonna need to come back there and break up a fight between you kids?”

Tony quickly joined the joke, and grabbed the empty bag of M&Ms from behind him, flinging it at Peter and pointing. “He stole my candy.”

“Peter, did you steal his candy?” he said like an irked father.

“He told me I could have it!”

Happy looked between them in the mirror. “I don’t care what he said, it’s his candy, you’re gonna give it back.”

“What if I already ate it?”

“Spit it back out, Mister. I don’t want to have to—”

“Oookay, jokes over,” Tony cut back in. “I’ve thoroughly lost my appetite.”

Peter glanced back at his mentor, giving a small smile, but quickly dropped his gaze.

“You did earn it, Peter.” Tony’s voice was more gentle. “I’m not saying that you don’t deserve it, or that you can’t handle it. But you have to admit, when you have it, things tend to…escalate. I can’t trust that you’ll just use it for friendly-neighborhood-crime-fighting. Or that friendly-neighborhood-crime-fighting would be as harmless as you think it is. Besides, you sealed your own fate, Spiderling.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re going to be out in the middle of nowhere, are you really gonna need it? What would you do if these random hillbillys found out your greatest secret?”

“I…don’t think they’re hillbillys. And it would be nice to have it!”

“Believe me, I know. I want to be able to let you have it. But I also know if I let you have it, the definition of an emergency situation will suddenly slip your mind,” he made a ‘poof’ motion with his hand, “And then I’m seeing you in some forest fire on the news, and that’s on you.”

Peter looked away. Everything was being turned against him, his words, his actions, even his suit.

“This is how things should go;” Tony continued, “a nice, relaxing summer fiesta in the Pacific Northwest with your friends. Away from saving the world, and all of us. Just for one summer you get to be a normal kid—hey, it’s more than I get. You deserve it—get some fresh air, maybe learn a life lesson or two out there. But absolutely no pooch-screwing, got it?”

“Bu—”

“This isn’t your neighborhood. Did you ever think about that?”

“It is for the summer!”

“Look, I’m gonna level with you here; you’re a good kid. Got good grades, a brain in your head, hell, maybe you could even surpass me with your technology one day—”

“Rea—?”

“Nah. Still, you’ve got a lot of things going for you. But let’s be honest, being normal isn’t exactly your strong suit.”

“I can be normal!”

Really? Tony’s eyes said.

“At some point you’ve gotta learn there’s more to life than being a hero—even the friendly neighborhood kind.”

Peter focused on a speck of dirt the floor, unsure how to respond. He didn’t want to admit it, but he knew Mr. Stark had his points; he did have a tendency to screw up. Still, it didn’t mean he was going to screw up now. Why couldn’t Mr. Stark have a little more faith in him? Why couldn’t he recognize that his intentions were, in fact, honorable? More honorable, maybe, than his own. Hearing him say all this aloud, hearing that he would lose the suit over a couple of minor, past screw-ups, even if it was just for the summer, didn’t hurt any less. He wanted to be able to use the suit wherever he was, for emergencies, or otherwise. (And, you know, maybe a couple pranks and parties with Ned wouldn’t hurt). Why not help a few people while he was there? Why not make someone’s day, even if it wasn’t an emergency? Isn’t that what a friendly, neighborhood Spider-man was supposed to do?

Tony sighed. “I just don’t want to hear, from somewhere other than you, about how Spider-man got slashed by some lumberjack ghost—”

Peter screwed up his face in confusion.

“—Or something like that. You know, that’s an extreme, probably unlikely, example. I’m not going to be there to protect you, and this is the whole summer we’re talking about. I hope you can understand that.”

“I understand.” He murmured.

He understood, that didn’t mean he agreed, or was any less upset. He wasn’t a kid who needed constant protection. He thought Mr. Stark had learned that.

Reluctance in every motion, he leaned forward and gently tugged the suit out of his pack, as if he was telling his beloved pet, Sorry buddy, I have to leave you here, and shoved its crumpled form to his mentor’s chest.

Tony rolled up the suit up and placed it in beside him. Peter looked away, picking at a stray thread on his Star Wars shirt. He could feel Mr. Stark’s eyes on him, and knew his mentor could tell how upset he was, because Iron Man sighed, and spoke up.

“Alright, I’ll make ya a deal. If you absolutely need it, then you have my number. But I mean absolutely. I’ve seen your texts to Happy. I don’t want you calling because Spider-Man now has a mission to save the tree people.”

“Come on, who do you think you’re talking to?” Peter puffed out his chest.

Happy called from the front seat, “You once broke into some kid’s house because you wanted to play Santa, and texted me about it.”

“Come on, the poor kid wasn’t gonna get any presents!”

Happy rolled his eyes.

“Okay so…I won’t do that. I won’t disappoint you, Mr. Stark.”

“I’m gonna hold you to that.” Tony then cleared his throat. “Okay, good listening. Happy, give the kid some M&Ms.”

“Which kind?” Happy asked.

“Uh, the plebian kind.” Peter smirked.

Happy laughed, giving him a knowing nod, and threw Tony’s discarded M&Ms to him at the next stop.

Tony glanced between them, straight-faced. “You’re both dead to me.”

Spending three months in some town in Oregon, with people she didn’t know, or else barely knew, wasn’t exactly Wanda’s idea of fun. Nor was it her idea. Still, when Mr. Stark knocked on the door to her room, came in and explained the situation to her, she realized she was more partial to some peace and quiet, some fresh air, and a chance to make a few friends, than sitting in the stuffy, chrome Avengers headquarters. Watching guilt-inducing news, or else doing training, that, while helpful, she didn’t particularly need, or enjoy, wasn’t exactly the most pleasant way to spend her summer.

When her private chauffer dropped her off at an equally private jet, she couldn’t help but harbor some amount of resentment for Stark’s uncanny riches, spent on something that could be better used elsewhere.

Still, even if there was a little residual bitterness, she never doubted that the people she had found were the good ones. The way they treated her, like a friend and equal, the way they tried to comfort her when she has lost her brother, showed her she was in better company than she had ever been in. Even if the term ‘heroes’ was a little strong…Especially when used on her.

Even so, she was grateful to be heading to a small town in the Pacific Northwest, instead of a lavish, five-star resort, or, on the other end of the spectrum, a lab for testing. Some time to herself, a few months of comparative stillness, would be much appreciated. The thought of the fresh evergreen air, rather than the big-city smog, the sleepy town, instead of the sleepless crowd, and some company her age, had its allure.

The jet was plush, and cool—the air-conditioning, forming condensation at the vents by the windows, puffing in her face, provided a nice relief from the sweaty, summer air outside. Cream-colored chairs, with full reclining capabilities lined each side of the plane, and there was plenty of foot room. Plasma screen TV’s stared down at her from each of the corners.

Well, she certainly wasn’t going to complain about the level of comfort.

She settled into a seat by a window. Afternoon sunlight blared in through the glass, draping the interior in gold. It felt strange to be sitting alone in an airplane, especially knowing there would be no flight attendants, or even a pilot. This was one of Stark’s state-of-the-art, fully automated, aircrafts. His AI system would be with them the entire time, to provide any services, and answer any questions. He thought it would be easier than hiring a full staff for their trip, and mentioned that it might be nice not to have an adult supervisor, and they should probably grateful that he trusted them not to need supervision.

With that in her mind, she sat and waited for them to arrive, watching the people working on the planes, and the other planes taking off.

As they arrived, Wanda heard the billionaire giving his begrudging protégé a few last minute nuggets of advice. When he turned to her, however, all he said was “Wanda…keep doin’ what you’re doin’” push Peter forward and add, pointing to him, “Keep this guy in line. Don’t let him screw the pooch, alright?”

She didn’t really know what that meant, but it seemed like it was the time to agree.

“See?” Mr. Stark turned to Peter and held out his hand to reference Wanda, “This is what I’m talking about.”

This was apparently not the treatment Peter had been getting, since he interjected, “Oh come on!”

“Friday, is there any alcohol on this plane?” Tony asked.

“There are several kinds of alcoholic beverages on this aircraft, sir.”

“Ah, should have known, it’s my plane, after all.” He clicked his tongue and winked.

He headed towards the back of the plane, and soon his hands were full of bottles of every kind of alcohol one could imagine. Wanda wouldn’t mind having some of that available, and Peter offered to help carry them out, but Mr. Stark made it clear they were not to touch them. His only excuse was, “Hey, I know what the kids do. I’ll just take these off your hands. It’s better for everyone this way.”

Before exiting he remarked lamely, “Well, you kids have fun,” shrugging.

“Of course,” he popped his head back in, “you can only have so much fun while I’m not there, right?”

“Of course Mr. Stark. It’ll be so lame without you.”

“That’s my boy.”

Peter finished putting away his luggage, and as the Friday signified the plane was getting ready to take off, he walked up to Wanda and smiled amicably.

“May I sit here?”

She shrugged. “Sit wherever you like.”

“Oh, well, then, that’s what I’d like—yeah…” He seemed to realize how awkward he sounded, and rubbed the back of his neck nervously, throwing his backpack onto the chair next to his own. “My name’s Peter, by the way,” he said as he sat down, holding out his hand for her to shake.

A small, somewhat forced, smile creased her lips. She leaned forward, shaking his hand, replying, “Wanda.”

“Yeah, I know your name.” He paused. “I mean—!”

She leaned forward, the smile becoming more genuine. “It’s okay. Mr. Stark told me yours too.”

Despite knowing each other’s names, it quickly became apparent that they really only knew each other by reputation—which wasn’t necessarily bad, but they had never truly met or talked to each other, (in Germany there wasn’t really much time for heart-to-heart)—the amount of silence between them was evidence to that.

“So… how about that autopilot, huh?” Peter pointed his thumb at the cockpit behind him.

She tilted her head to the side for a second glance, without comment.

“Pretty cool.” Peter grinned sheepishly, trying and failing not to let his love for technology be too obvious.

She had heard about that too; Mr. Stark had been happy to give her background information—how he had made his own web shooters (is that what they were called?) and how he stopped a plane when some guy in a wing suit was trying to steal Stark’s precious stuff in the move.

“Well, it is Stark Industries.” She pointed out.

“Still, I never thought I’d be in a plane without a pilot. Now I’ve been on two!” he held up two fingers as if he needed to demonstrate.

“Pretty scary if you think about it.”

“Well, like you said, this is Mr. Stark we’re talking about, I’m sure we’re safe.”

Friday assured them as much, that she would be with them the entire time, and it wasn’t long before she told them to fasten their seatbelts for take off.

They both stared out the window as the plane sprinted down the runway, bolting into the air; a slingshot made of pavement and metal, firing at the sky.

She hadn’t been on many planes, but she always liked this part: when the city fell away, bit by bit, the towns becoming paper and toys. The part when she understood just how far away she was from the ground.

“So… this whole summer camp thing was your idea?” Wanda asked once they were in the air.

“Well,” he ran his hand through his hair, “technically it was my friend Ned’s idea. He actually works at the place we’ll be staying at. He thought it would be fun if I came to hang out with him over the summer. And we figured it would probably make more sense for me to stay over at the place where he works for like a summer-camp-situation. He didn’t really go into detail about why I couldn’t stay at his house…something about his family, I think. And we thought it would make even more sense if I wasn’t the only one coming. Sorry…you kinda got roped into this didn’t you?”

Wanda shrugged. “It’s alright. If it weren’t for you I’d be sitting on my ass all summer.” She gave him a smile. “So who’s this friend of yours?”

“Ned? Oh he’s great. He’s kinda like my second in command. Helps me with all the technical stuff, you know? When he found out I was Spider-man he—” he cut himself off, his eyes widening, “wait, you knew that right?!”

She nodded.

“Oh, phew. And you can’t tell anyone while we’re there! Well, I mean, Ned knows. Oh, wait, you probably already knew that, because you—Nevermind.”

“Aye aye captain.” She gave a little salute. “It sound’s like Ned’s a good friend.”

“He is, yeah. I also have another friend who I just found out works there too, her name is Michelle—well, MJ is what we call her. Not sure if she’ll let you call her that though…She’s really cool too.”

“Do you know this person we’ll be staying with? Mr. Stark didn’t tell me much.”

“To tell you the truth, I’ve never actually met him myself. Ned says he’s kind of weird. I mean, the place we’ll be staying at is called ‘The Mystery Shack,’ so that should tell us something. But he said he’s also like one of the coolest people he’s ever worked for…Though, come to think of it, I think he’s the only person he’s worked for.”

“And you’re not nervous about staying with a complete stranger?”

“Well, Ned and MJ know him. And nothing bad has happened to either of them while working there—as far as I know—so I trust that.”

“But your friends weren’t living with him.”

“Well, yeah, but they still spend like ninety percent of their time there. He said the guy’s hosted summer camps before too—though I think that was years ago. If he wasn’t trustworthy, I’d think at the very least there would be a bad review or two online.”

She still wasn’t convinced.

“Ned would know, I’m sure.” Peter crossed his arms, jutting his chin out. “I’ve got a good feeling.”

Wanda bit her lip, looking away. She didn’t. Having played lab rat to Hydra scientists, she had her fair share of reason to be cautious.

“What about you?” he asked after a pause.

She returned her gaze back to Peter. “What…about me?”

“Do you have any friends you invited? Oh! Do you know this other girl who’s coming? I think her name was Shuri? I’ve never met her. Mr. Stark said she found out what we were doing, and wanted to come for some reason. I think she’s from Wakanda?”

She shook her head. “To be honest, I haven’t had many friends since…” she looked up out of the corner of her eye, giving a small, sad smile, “ever, actually. Most of the time it was just me and my brother, and now…” she tapped her fingers on the armrest, “it’s just me.”

She hadn’t meant for it to sound so sad.

Peter’s eyes widened. “Oh gosh, I’m so sorry. I forgot.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“Well, hey,” Peter tried to brighten the situation, “you’ve got one friend now—you’ve got me!”

“Yeah…I guess I do.” She gave a small smile.

“Definitely. I got your back, Sister.” He cringed. “Ew, that didn’t work did it?”

She laughed. His confidence and kindness were refreshing. She had been around heroes for so long, and she never doubted their strength, or passion, but he was… a kid. A little awkward and nerdy, but a lot more compassionate, a lot more genuine. Compared to the other Avengers, he was pretty young, maybe a little naïve but more…heroic, for lack of a better word. He actually reminded her of Pietro in some ways.

After that, things became more relaxed. They each told their funny stories about the other Avengers, and theorized about ridiculous things like which of the Avengers wore the most hair product (Tony was their best guess for that one), and who wore the tightest costume (Peter himself won that one). They drank concoctions Peter made out of the non-alcoholic beverages available (only one of which didn’t taste terrible), and ate more than their fair share of crackers, and other food available, which ranged from ‘generally okay.’ to, well, airplane food.

Peter was more than ready to introduce Wanda to the Star Wars universe (he had been in shock for a few full minutes when she asked about the reference on his shirt) but, much to his dismay, a few minutes after starting up, the TV flickered to black, and they couldn’t revive it. The others wouldn’t even turn on. With Peter’s Star Wars hopes thoroughly dashed, they spent the last hour in quiet company. She pulled out a book she had brought, and started reading. He didn’t seem like he was all that tired, but before she knew it, she looked up from the page to see he had fallen asleep.

A light breeze shifted through the city, lifting leaves, playing with Peter’s hair. His feet, clad in the bright red of his suit, kicked back and forth lightly in the open sky between sectors B and C, his mask lying limp on the brick edge beside him as he took the last bite of his churro.

The height would have been enough to send anyone’s heart pounding, but for Peter, to be up here, above the world, was freedom, and gravity; feeling the air open before him, the city below him but just close enough, knowing he would always come back down…

“Loki doesn’t usually associate with your type,” mused a voice he didn’t recognize. “What are you doing here?”

Peter looked around, startled, quickly grabbing his mask, ready to put it back on at a moment’s notice. Weren’t his Spidey-Senses supposed to warn him about things like this?

No one was there.

“Okay. That was…weird.”

“Is your presence here an accident?” the voice returned. “No…That much is clear. So why here? Why would a young hero such as yourself come here of his own accord? Shouldn’t you be in a place more like… the one before you?”

Peter quickly spun back to face the gap between the buildings, and breathed out, folding his arms, suddenly feeling much colder up here.

Calm down Peter, he thought, there must be a perfectly logical explanation as to why you’re hearing voices.

“Not so. Not in the way you’re thinking.” Peter thought he heard it laugh. “Why do humans always think hearing voices is enough to grant them insanity?”

“Because it uh…kinda is. This really isn’t funny, you know. You’re kinda freaking me out, to be honest…Nameless Voice.”

“What would you prefer to call me? I’m not nameless. I just have many. I really could care less what I am called, if only it makes you comfortable.”

“Uhh…let’s stick with ‘Nameless Voice’ for now. You know,” He tried to laugh it off. “I don’t want to get attached to you and all.”

Who—or what—was this voice? Where was it coming from? And how? Why? Why now? He glanced around for some sort of curtain to look behind. to show him there was a man in the workings.

His eyes lighted upon a spider, black, with a strange blue mark on its back. It had made its home between the shifting leaves of one of the garden plants sunning on the roof. Its web glinted in the sunlight. Peter scooched closer to it.

“Um, excuse me, Mr. Spider? Sorry to bother you, but uh…weird question, are you talking to me?”

“He speaks as if he knows the insanity has reached him. I like you, Peter.”

Peter gasped at the sound of his name, losing his balance, but caught himself on the side of the wall, standing sideways nearby someone’s window, looking down at the street below. He swallowed.

“That could have been bad.” He murmured, before grabbing the edge of the roof and pulling himself back up.

“Seems that way.” The spider had heard him. “But not necessarily. All too many worlds are built on seeming.”

“Are you actually implying that do you want me to fall to my death? That’s not very nice, Mr. Spider.”

“I was unclear, my apologies; You would not die if you fell.”

“Uh, I’m pretty sure that I would!” He walked up to the creature, forgetting the mask entirely by now.

“Know now that anything can happen in a dream. A dream is not so bound by things like life and death, rather sleeping and waking.”

Thanks Socrates. He facepalmed. Of course it was a dream.

“You still haven’t answered my question.”

“‘What am I doing here?’ I think I should be asking you that, Mr. Spider! I mean, if this is my dream and all.”

“Will you answer me first?”

Peter looked around the skyline. “To be clear, are you asking me what I’m doing here in my dream?”

“Dig a little deeper.”

“But you just—!” he sighed. “I’m…you know.”

“Up up and away, so far from the ground. Will you ever come down?”

Peter blinked. “Uhh…Well, yeah…” he sighed, “I’m, you know, fighting bad guys.” He shrugged, then made a kicking motion in the air, “Kicking crime in the butt!”

“The hero.” The spider laughed. “I knew that. But it’s not what you’re doing here.”

“You’ve lost me.”

“Truth is more elusive, isn’t it? My apologies, I should more clear in my inquiry.” The spider lifted up one of its forward facing legs in a sweeping motion.

In a blink the world shifted. Peter felt its fabric and foundation shaking, an inkling of his Spidey-Senses creeping in as it settled into the new scene. It was still sunset, and he was still sitting on the roof of a building, but now, instead of a sprawling city, the sunlight was sifting through the leaves of an army of trees, clustered together, even closer than the skyscrapers from before, blocking his view of the sky beyond. The building was made of wood and glass, instead of concrete and dust.

“Mr. Spider?”

He cast his gaze around, and found the spider behind him, its web larger now, covering a triangular, red-tinted window behind him.

Peter pulled his legs from the roof edge, as if suddenly afraid of the ground, and looked around at the forest he didn’t recognize.

“What is this place?”

“That brings us back to my question. I will make my meaning plain; Why are you here in Gravity Falls?”

“Oh that!” Peter sighed, relieved. “That’s easy; I came to see my friend Ned!” He looked around, excitement sparking in his eyes, instead of confusion. “So is this the Mystery Shack?”

“Taunts will get you nowhere. That is too simple of an answer.”

“What?” Peter laughed. “I’m not taunting you! It’s kinda the truth! I don’t know what to tell ya.”

“Him…” The creature seemed to be in an entirely different line of thought now. Its voice became muffled, the edges of the dream growing blurry. “This is still about him. All, always about him. Though you may be a player...he is the one I must...”

“Who? You’re not making any sense. Wait… do you mean Ned? Or…?”

The spider gave no answer; it was in another conversation now, maybe even another place, and Peter wasn’t entirely sure he was a part of it anymore, or that he was the crazy one.

Peter felt his Spidey-Senses pulling him from the dream, along with someone shaking him.

“Peter! …Peter! Peter!”

Peter blinked open his eyes to see Wanda’s face, her steel eyes wide with worry.

“Peter…Something…” her voice was low and taut, her breath shaky, she kept glancing between him and the cockpit, pushing her hair nervously behind her ear, “something’s wrong with the plane.”

Peter sat up, shaking his head as if it would untangle the spider’s webs from his mind. “W-What? What are you talking about?”

“I-I don’t know—Everything just started shaking and—”

It wasn’t a joke; he could feel it—the tremor he had felt when the scene changed in the dream must have been this, here; the whole plane shaking. The luggage rattled as it shifted in its compartments, their leftover snacks and drinks spilled onto the floor. His stomach rose and fell, tipped and turned, as the plane dropped, and tried to right itself in the air. The last time he had been on a plane, every tremor had startled him, and Happy had always assured him it was just turbulence. Now he might have tried to denounce this as harsher-than-normal turbulence, and guessed Wanda probably did at first too, but the worry in Wanda’s eyes, along with the hair on his arms standing on end, and the dream he had had before, told him this was not normal. He felt a knot tying itself in his stomach.

“Come on!”

He grabbed her hand and stumbled with her to the front of the plane, trying and failing to ignore the shaking floor, and the amount of times they knocked against chairs, (and each other), in their pursuit.

They held on as best they could to anything solid as the shaking grew worse. The cockpit was quite tiny, two chairs crunched into the area. The view of the world below, trees and fields playing peekaboo behind the clouds, getting closer, took up most of the area—which, while helpful to the (here, nonexistent) pilot, only served to make their fall seem all the more eminent.

This was the kind of circumstance that could make him understand why people feared gravity.

The rest of the area was comprised of levers, buttons, blinking lights of many colors, and screens, splattered around the walls, floors, what you might call the plane’s dashboard, and ceilings. Without a manual they could never know which would create what reaction, or how to navigate the skies’ invisible paths.

When they tried the radio, no voice came through. Not even dead static.

They scanned the blinking lights, dials, screens, buttons, (and tried to avoid the window view), glancing at each other periodically, as if expecting one of them to suddenly shout, Ah! Yes! I know how this works!

“Hey, Friday,” Peter called, “c-can you tell us what’s going on?”

No response.

“Friday?” he felt his voice trembling too, and all he could think was I don’t have the suit, I don’t have the suit, I don’t have the suit, please answer, please be there, “You there?”

Nothing.

The tremors grew worse. The knot pulled itself tighter, making him feel sick with fear.

How? How could she not be there? Mr. Stark probably hadn’t expected this of his own technology, but he would have always made sure Friday was there. She even assured them she would be. Besides that, he would have made sure that any and every safety precaution was followed…right?

Okay, that didn’t exactly sound like Mr. Stark.

Still, how could this even happen? What exactly were they dealing with? Could ordinary turbulence, some accident, a malfunction, wipe out Friday?

“We could really use your help right now!” worry was creeping into the edges of his voice.

AFK.

Or, something in the back of his mind asked, what if we’re dealing with a villain? What if this is what Mr. Spider meant by ‘Up up and away, when will you ever come down?’

But he pushed the idea back down. Maybe. Hopefully not. But it didn’t matter. Not right now.

“What do you think we should do?” he could tell Wanda was trying not to let her worry reach her voice too.

“Um…Okay, let’s…uh—” Peter ran his hand through his hair, trying to keep his voice from devolving into whimpers.

There were a number of situations in which his heightened senses were much more of a hindrance than a help—(okay, that was an understatement)—and this was one of them. It was difficult to think at all when every rattle of luggage and metal sounded like snakes in his ears, warning him they were about to strike. Luckily (or unluckily) no alarms were blaring, but his Spidey-Senses were more than happy to provide the constant bark of Danger! Danger! in his ears. The outside sunlight glared at him, paired with the tiny blinking lights, each one a question he couldn’t answer, making the environment less than conducive to heavy duty thought. Each tremor grabbed him and shook him, like Flash on a bad day, causing him to lose calm and mental capacity second by second.

He wanted to fight back more than anything, but he had nothing at all to fight with, he didn’t understand the rules of the game, nor could he anticipate the enemy’s moves. There were so many levers, buttons—too many to count, to decipher, to learn—and no manual, no AI to talk to, nor a person on the radio to guide them. No help, no hope.

But he couldn’t break down, couldn’t sit back in a quiet moment and think this through, couldn’t process, or even wonder. He had to think, had to solve this, to come up with a solution—have to keep us alive. He couldn’t, wouldn’t, be useless without his suit. He refused to be. He promised himself history wasn’t repeating. He wouldn’t let it be. He was more than his suit—he had proven that much already. He knew he could still be a hero without it.

“Let’s try this lever,” he pointed to the big, gleaming, silver one in front of them. “it looks important!”

So much for that.

Wanda gave him a really? look. The same one Mr. Stark gave him before, when he said he could be normal.

“Do you have a better idea?!”

He lost his balance on the next tremor, and felt the console dig into his chest when he fell.

The lever was within reach. He glanced at Wanda for approval—who gave a little nod—and tried it.

It wouldn’t budge.

Okay…other direction?

Like an obnoxious child, it refused to leave the toy store.

“Let me try!” Wanda called.

He fell back into the pilot’s chair in an attempt to give her space.

She put her hands together, red pouring out from them, mist enveloping the lever. She pulled her fingers back as if her hand was tied to it.

The mist dissipated without the lever so much as shivering.

Nu uh.

She dropped her hands to the side, her eyes wide and fearful when at they met his.

“Has…Has that ever happened before?”

“Not really.” She gave a wavering smile, and pushed her hair back behind her ear.

“Okay…n-new plan.” He blew out a breath, trying to keep calm.

Except, he didn’t have any idea what that new plan could be. Really they needed a new plane. Maybe a new mentor.

Or, you know, a certain suit.

“You see a manual anywhere?” Peter asked.

They had already looked everywhere, but they tried again, looking for a secret panel or compartment that might hold it, knowing full well it would probably be easily accessible if it was here.

“Well it is an auto pilot, I doubt it would need to read the instructions,” Wanda pointed out.

Yeah, at this point, I wouldn’t be surprised of Mr. Stark threw it out.

He whistled out a breath. They had to do something, something, not nothing, not sitting here—not useless without the suit, not useless, I’m not just some weak little kid.

He then frantically proceeded to turn, touch, and pull every dial, button, and lever he possibly could. Many wouldn’t move, those that would did nothing to help their situation, or else broke off entirely like as if they were glass.

“Okay.” He ran his hands over his face, his breath weighing heavier on his chest every second. “OkayOkayOkay. Calm down, Peter, you got this.”

“Wait…didn’t you stop a plane before? How did you do it then?”

That struck something inside him. It crashed, Wanda. Didn’t he tell you that? I only know how to screw up. Everything I do ends up in flames. Please don’t throw that in my face, not now. He could no longer contain the stress piling up inside him, it now spilled onto his tongue, “Mr. Stark took away my suit, okay?!” he snapped, “I mean, I-I can still do stuff without it! Just—!” he tried to quiet the brew of fear and anger, “Stopping planes is going to be hard one, okay?!”

“Why would he—?” she breathed, then bit her lip, cutting off her words.

“He thought I would be reckless with it!” he answered her half-baked question. “Can you please be quiet for just one second, I need to think!”

She obliged.

“What if…What if, uh…” his voice shook.

How could he? How could he think when he just knew this would end the same way all his other missions did? How could he think at all when he felt like somehow this just had to be all his fault?

He tried to focus his energy on something other rather than himself:

Despite the fact that he didn’t have his suit, Wanda’s power was readily available. She could still do something… but what? What would be enough to stop a soon-to-be-crashing plane, when neither of them had any experience, idea what any of these buttons did, or even a manual to read? Superpowers didn’t quite match inexperience, and misinformation. Well, at least right now they didn’t—and this might be the only ‘now’ that mattered.

“What if you, uh, used your power to—”

What?

He snapped his fingers, pointing at her, finally getting an idea, “Can you use your powers on the entire plane?”

“I…can try.”

It was a crazy idea, but crazy ideas are how superheroes get by, right?

Using the walls, chairs, and Peter, to keep her balance, she walked out into a more open, middle area of the plane. Peter kept his distance, as she shut her eyes, and held her hands out to the side, red energy flowing from her, diving into the floor, inch by inch enveloping the plane in a red sheen, creating puppet strings to tie it to the sky.

“Yes! Yes!” Peter encouraged.

She cried out in pain, the weight of the machine falling upon her, but she kept going.

Just as as the forcefield was almost finished covering the contraption, and he felt it start to rise back up, the strings broke, and the girl collapsed onto the floor.

Peter ran to catch her.

He was afraid this might happen.

“I’m sorry—” she began.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay!” he brushed the hair out of her face, “We’ll find something else.”

But even as he said it, the creaks and groans of the plane straining to stay afloat grew in intensity. His stomach flipped, the knot caught in his throat, fear gripped at his heart.

What could they do? She couldn’t keep the plane from falling, they didn’t know how to fly it, or have anything to communicate that they were, in fact, falling, and he didn’t have his suit…What choice did they have but to fall?

No. He couldn’t think like that. There had to be something. He couldn’t give up hope.

Maybe it just had to be even crazier. Maybe they wouldn’t fall after all, maybe there was something, some way they hadn’t thought of yet. They were awfully close to their destination, maybe they would come to the right place after all, and they would land safely. They had to. This couldn’t be it.

Maybe. Or maybe they would fall.

He couldn’t think with the creaking grating on his ears, and his blood drumming his own death march beneath the skin.

Shaking, creaking, rattling—keep breathing.

But that breath was snatched away; the plane finally gave out in its efforts to stay above the waves, and it took a different direction.

A wrong direction. A down direction. A falling direction.

And for one brief second, the thought crossed paths with his mind: we might die.

But the thought flitted out of his brain as quickly as it entered, or, more accurately, it was stifled when The Scarlet Witch grabbed his shirt, pulling him further down, shouting, “Hold on to me!”

He did, and as he wrapped his arms around her, the crimson mist came over them both, a merciful curtain separating them and disaster. It seemed so thin—like you could brush your hand through it and it would tear—but somehow it kept calamity at bay.

He understood now; she had been hoping to keep them afloat, or else save more, or ideally all, of the plane, (and, after what had happened in Lagos, she was probably afraid her power would be more of a hindrance than a help), but this had always been her last resort.

The crashing came in muffled blips to their scarlet cage. He put his finger on Wanda’s chin so she would turn to look at him. She did so, fear lining her irises. He put his hands over her ears, resting his forehead gently on hers.

She didn’t need the sound of more tragedy in her life.

They both shut their eyes tight. They didn’t want to see. To admit that they had failed.

Though he kept her safer from the noise, he had to listen. He tried and failed to block out the sounds; the curling metal, and bending trees, so close. Even if he had covered his own ears he doubted his super-hearing would have allowed him to block it out.

They could still breathe. And that breathing was amplified by the field, the same single, bated, fearful, forced-calm kind of breath.

If only their thin bubble of safety popped…what would happen? How quickly would they die? Seconds? Minutes? Or would it be hours, and even now, they still had a chance of never being found? Never finding their way out of the wreckage, or back home?

The metal twisted, the engines failed and and fell, flaming to the forest floor. The dirt flared up, and the trees, like spears, jutted into the sides of the machine. Those trees who dared challenge man’s invention had their points dulled, scratched, and split by the presence of the unnatural. The forest buckled, but in the same token, technology became putty in the hands of nature. Everything fell apart, and in the end, it all was left in a fiery heap of scraps in the midst of a forest.

But the two of them were safe.

Loki sighed low, wiping the sweat of his brow, stepping through the curtain, changing his clothes from the all-back suit to something more casual in a flash of gold. Last tour of the day.

Yet, of course, with a movie-like flair, the real mess was just beginning. He was going to savor every second before the pests arrived. Maybe finally settle down with that book, drink some tea to calm down, reset his system before he had to deal with—

“Hey, catch!”

Loki caught the snow globe Michelle threw at him.

“Noice. This guy,” she pointed her thumb at the person before her, at the front counter, “wants to know if the sticker on this means it’s 30% off.”

Loki barely glanced the sticker before leaning on the desk and saying through the side of his mouth. “What do you think?”

“I’m sorry sir,” Michelle responded, “I’m afraid I can’t give you a discount. But may I interest you in a free jar of one-hundred-percent, one-of-a-kind Gravity Falls dirt?”

She pulled a perfectly worthless jar of dirt out from behind beneath the counter, like it was on the secret menu, and held it up.

He accepted it from her and held it up to the light, as if admiring it, or trying to discern its authenticity.

“Nice.” Loki whispered back.

Only a few stragglers from his last tour were left in the gift shop, and they would be gone soon.

A few moments passed before Ned joined them, lowering his phone, something akin to worry creasing his features.

“Something wrong, Mr. Leeds?”

“Peter isn’t picking up.”

Loki raised an eyebrow, and Michelle lifted her gaze.

“Your meaning?” Loki asked, barely concerned.

“They should have been here half an hour ago.”

“Their flight was probably just delayed, dude.” Michelle offered calmly.

“You’re right. I’m probably worried about nothing.” Ned tried to shrug it off.

Though, clearly, as time continued on—the last customers of the day exited the shop, closing time came and passed—worry was not absent from his thoughts. Loki gave them a few last minute tasks to prepare for their friends’ arrival, though they had finished most of it earlier that morning. Later he found him pacing in the quiet gift shop, periodically checking his phone to make sure he hadn’t missed his friend’s call—as if he his constant vigilance warranted any possibility of that.

It appeared Loki might have to abandon his moment of silence.

Yeah, that wasn’t going to happen.

“Miss Jones,” he found her watching TV in the living room, snacking from a bag of chips. “Your friend is looking rather…pathetic.”

She smirked, not looking up at him. “Yeah, he always looks like that.”

He crossed his arms.

She looked up to see he was being serious. “Come on, he’s just worried about Peter.”

“See to him, will you?”

Michelle lifted her hand. “Why don’t you do it?”

He started tapping his foot on the ground. “Because I have some rather important reading to do.”

“Really? How important? Are we talkin’ The History of Farting, or War and Peace?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. This summer was not going to be an easy one.

“Just do as I ask.”

She shrugged, grabbing her chips and roaming over to her friend.

It seemed his reading plans were destined to fail, however, as he was interrupted yet again by the ringing of the the Mystery Shack phone. He groaned, leaning over the yellow armchair to pick it up.

“Hello, Mystery Shack?” he sat on the arm of the chair, “Mr. Mystery speaking.”

The person on the other end snorted. “Mr. Mystery, nice one.”

“I’ll have you know—!”

He cut himself off, eyes wide, realizing he recognized that voice.

“Darcy?” he tried to sound unaffected.

“The one and only. You wouldn’t happen to have ordered two marginally distressed teenagers, would you?”

He sat on the arm of the recliner. “Don’t tell me something happened during shipping.”

“Kind of, yeah. Let’s just say autopilot, plus Gravity Falls weirdness, equals …not a good time.” There was a pause. “They’re fine—Not that you asked.”

“Where are they now?”

“They’re in the farmhouse…You know, the one with the with the mailbox that looks like an alien cow? We’re sitting here drinking tea. I promise they’re eating healthy—hey put down that cookie! Can you come pick them up? Or do I need to entertain them for an extended period of time? I do have an Ipod here, and some old newspapers, but don’t think that’s nearly enough to keep them occupied.” He heard her cracking her knuckles. “But I think I can manage.”

“While that would be quite enjoyable to see, it won’t be necessary.”

He walked into the atrium to grab his keys, forgetting the phone was a landline…which, when he reached the end of the cord, ended up pulling him to the ground. He stood back up with dignity, tossing his hair out of his face, (he was glad Ned and Michelle hadn’t seen him, and that he wouldn’t have to use a certain memory gun on his employees), and finished,

“I’m coming.”

“Mr. Mystery to the rescue, huh?”

He tried not to smirk. “The one and only.”

“Oh, and to be clear, what’s really going to be fun to see, is you trying to entertain them, not me.”

He glared at the phone before hanging up.

When he got off the phone and walked into the gift shop, he found the other two teens staring at him expectedly from across the room.

Loki cleared his throat, running a hand through his hair.

“It appears your friend Mr. Stark made the mistake of trusting your friends lives to his autopilot.”

Ned had been snacking on Michelle’s chips—(he had a tendency to do that when he was nervous)—and as his mouth dropped open in shock, the chip he was holding fluttering sadly to the ground.

“And…as often happens with the machinations of mortals”—(he tried not to smirk at his turn of phrase, then felt something in him stir)—“something…”

He didn’t intend it, expect it, or want it, but at the mention of technology, and of malfunction, for a brief moment—

“Uhh…what about family?”

“That too.”

—he didn’t see the two of them before him, their worried faces.

Instead, a bright blue glow saturated the world, a low hum filled his ears, he felt a burning sensation on his shoulder, and heard a single voice, a voice he hadn’t heard in years, shouting his name, and a command, that he had then failed to follow:

“LOKI!! DO SOMETHING!!”

He shut his eyes tight, and swallowed the memory, trying to focus on the situation before him.

This was not that; these two were not him. They were mortals, who could never understand, and though the scene still haunted him more often than he would like, it was not happening now.

“Something went wrong.”

[janaonthepct]

Why I’m leaving the trail...

Wow. What a way to start off a blog post guys, am I right? To keep the story arch intact and to possibly annoy you a bit longer with the question of whether the headline actually means what you think it means, let's start where we left off last time:

Day - I don't really know what day it was - at mile 152 sitting at the Paradise Valley Cafe devouring a typical American breakfast: pancakes, eggs and bacon. We had left camp pretty early in the morning to cruise down the last 10ish miles to the Cafe fast enough to have breakfast at an appropriate time because everyone told us it's definitely worth the 1 mile detour off of the trail and because we were craving a proper breakfast. Let's say this: they didn't lie ;)

We were going so fast that I even missed the 150-mile marker of the trail. Oh well, technically these little markers aren't supposed to be there anyways. A big principle on the trail is the LNT - leave no trace - principle and apparently even rearranging stones to form a number is too much of a trace to have. But the big milestones usually still have them anyways. We arrived at the Cafe where we met a ton of other PCT hikers that had started that day with the same idea as us. Talking to them we heard a lot of rumors and reports of the upcoming miles being decently sketchy and snowy enough to be needing micro spikes and possibly even an ice axe. Stories were going around of people having fallen off of ridges, getting injured and helicopter rescues and everyone was starting to worry and having to estimate the personal risk they were willing to take.

Every time we got out of the mountains and off of the trail at least for me it has been a very overwhelming experience. On the trail I barely used my phone, for one because I didn't really have that much cell service anyways and also because I enjoyed being fully out there without all the noise and distractions of modern technology. Some people enjoy hiking with music or podcasts, I literally only used my phone to take pictures and to locate myself with GPS to keep track of the trail and where to get water and such. So whenever we'd end up in a "more civilized" place, meaning a town or a restaurant, immediately many things would happen at once and in a very condensed time: While trying to get some proper food into your system, you are also faced with figuring out the next steps (whether that means where to hike to further that day, booking a room in a town or figuring out all the things you need to resupply on), your phone is going insane with a ton of messages, there is a lot of noise and people around you (more then you usually experience in one or two full days on trail), you’re probably also contemplating whether you already smell so bad that a shower and a laundry are needed and at the same time you are socializing with all the other hikers you haven't seen in a couple days exchanging stories of things you've seen or heard or comparing gear and food choices.

Back at Paradise Valley Cafe I was still chewing on my bacon and pancakes while Zack had already decided with Paul and Alex to hitch into Idyllwild quickly to grab some new micro spikes to tackle the upcoming section that afternoon, Nadine had already organized a ride from an amazing trail angel Jodie (we had met her at the barbecue before Warner springs) to get back to San Diego, where she was going to rent a car for the last couple days she'd be in the US before heading back the UK (she had only intended to hike the first two weeks with Paul and had done so amazingly covering over 150 miles!) and I was left with a difficult decision: I could either continue hiking with the boys, either having to buy new micro spikes in Idyllwild as well or not going with any spikes and risking injuries and sliding off or I could take the ride to San Diego with Nadine and wait for my micro spikes. I thought I wouldn't need them until the Sierras (the big mountains in Central California) and had left them in my friend's car and Olive had left the US to go to Mexico for a couple days so I had to wait for her to get back before getting to the car... (it's a long story I know)

Since Zack was already on his way to Idyllwild and I also didn't fully see a point in getting new micro spikes since mine were so close and perfectly fine also (yes, this is my German side speaking), I decided to join Nadine for the ride back to San Diego and luckily had an amazing friend there which was spontaneous and kind enough to let me stay at her place for another two nights after only getting notified literally 10 minutes before I was planning to leave the Cafe (you are the best Allison!). So here I was, back at the starting point in San Diego, two weeks and 150 miles later. I was kind of glad Olive was still in Mexico because that gave me three days off of the trail to get some perspective and to figure some things out.

Let me preface this by saying two things: 1. I absolutely LOVED every minute and every step of the trail! 2. None of what I'm writing here has to make any sense to anybody else, it's just some truths I have found to be fitting at the current time and place for me.

Ever since I stepped foot on the trail I was having a wonderful time. Being out there, living simply, being active and challenging your body, meeting like-minded people and having space for yourself, it just all made perfect sense to me. I realized I'm great at doing these things too and enjoy them a lot. I also realized some other things though. But since I don’t want to turn this blogpost into a novel (it’s getting there I know) here’s the short summary: - Although I’ve been having a grand time on the trail I just realized that I am currently in a point of my life where I want to commit to something, get working and stay somewhere for a while. I realized finishing the trail might not get me any further in knowing what a next step could be and instead of avoiding this decision, I knew I wanted to take action now. - I want to give back rather then receive. The trail is so much based around receiving help and kindness, which makes it very special. I feel like I am at a place in my life right now where I am capable of giving and I want to use that knowledge and spread joy. I guess I want to be on the giving end. - As much as this might be a once in a lifetime experience or chance I don’t feel like it has to be and I know that this isn’t going to be my last time going to the US and seeing all my amazing friends here again. So, I didn’t feel like this chapter really needed closure or a full stop. Instead I just absolutely rejoiced in reuniting with friends here, exploring new places and remembering old ones.

Anyways. Here I was having found these truths but also still really enjoying the trail and my hiking group. After Olive got back from Mexico we talked some more about it and came to the conclusion that I was going to reunite with my hiking group for a couple more days and then leave the trail from Big Bear Lake, a small hiker town in the mountains just off of the trail. The boys had successfully conquered San Jacinto in those days so I joined them about 50 miles later in Cabazon and did another 70-80 miles with them. And what a beautiful and rewarding 4 days those were. The landscape was absolutely gorgeous, we had super-hot desert, river crossings, snow and below freezing temperatures all within 24 hours. Lots of elevation gain and loss, lots of wind, lots of beautiful valleys and outlooks, lots of flowers and lizards. We got to Big Bear and had another full Zero day together. It was a wonderful way for me to come to an (at least temporary) end of the trail. I never wanted to leave on a bad note hating the experience, getting injured or feeling homesick or whatever. The trail and everything it entails has been nothing but outstanding and I am very grateful for this! It was hard to say goodbye to the boys but I hope it’s more of a “see you again very soon”. I am now their personal cheering squad.

(Some impressions from the last days on trail and saying goodbye to the boys)

I’ve been off of the trail for about 10 days now. Me and Olive had a super fun week together driving a little bit of the distance back north, meeting friends and also having a couple days just as the two of us roadtripping. We went to Santa Barbara, back to Monterey and then had two days in San Francisco and Point Reyes (a super cool national park right across San Francisco over the Golden Gate bridge). I then took the train back north to Portland where I had two days exploring a bit more and spending time with special and beautiful people and now I’ve been back in Port Townsend. I’m leaving the US next Monday, flying to London (because there were no good straight flights to Germany but also mainly because that means I get to see Nadine again, see London for the first time and even meet some other dear friends who live there). I will have another week there and then I am BAAAACK.

Super stoked to see you all again and to get started. The adventure definitely isn’t over. More steps coming. Let me know if you want me to keep the blog running though.

(Photos from the days after the trail)

Ihr lieben, der Blogpost ist definitiv zu lang geworden um hier eine komplette Übersetzung zu schreiben. Die zentrale Aussage: Ich komme zurück nach Deutschland :) Nicht weil mir das Wandern keinen Spaß macht, oder weil etwas Schlimmes passiert ist, sondern einfach weil ich gemerkt habe dass ich aktuell lieber einen nächsten Schritt in meinem Leben gehen will und an einem Ort ankommen will. Ich erzähle euch gerne mehr dazu, wenn wir uns mal wieder in Person treffen. Bin ab Anfang Mai wieder in Deutschland, nach einem kurzen Zwischenstopp in London. Freue mich euch wiederzusehen!!! Cheers, Jana

[brynwrites]

Part II: Writing the first draft.

Fore Note: This is the process I’m currently using to outline, write, and edit my novels. There are a million different ways to journey through the writing process, and the only ‘correct’ one is the one that works for you in the moment. Everyone’s writing process is a little bit different, and most writers (including myself) change theirs every few books as they figure out what techniques are most beneficial to them and for certain types of novels.

Unlike outlining and editing, I don’t change my first draft process much. The one thing I’ve added since I started writing consistently is the fourth step, which I only figured out I needed after struggling through editing The Warlord’s Contract.

1. Set a schedule with achievable goals.

This may be word counts, chapter numbers, key plot points — whatever keeps you most motivated. I like to have a different word count number to reach based on whether I had off from work that day or not, as well as a chapter goal for the week and an idea of how far along in a scene I should be by the end of my day’s writing.

Make sure you keep a record of these goals somewhere. Tell them to an accountability writing friend, post them on your wall with boxes to check as you finish them, write them on a list on your phone or blog. If it helps you, have a reward system in place for when you reach certain major goals.

2. Write without distractions.

Browsing the internet will always be easier then writing. The key to getting out a hefty word count is to take certain periods of time (15, 20, 40, or 60 minutes) in which you don’t leave your manuscript page for anything. So find someplace relaxing, away from people who will want your attention, mute your phone and close the internet, and just write.

3. Take breaks.

This might mean setting aside one day a week not to write, the last four or five days of the month, or perhaps writing a lot on the weekends and leaving the weekdays for school or work.

Sometimes it’s helpful to give yourself a free “mental health day” you can use every couple weeks*, wherein you do something self care oriented during the time you would normally take to write.

* You should be consistently monitoring your own mental heath and know how many days you personally need to take off in order to take care of yourself. It doesn’t matter what number this ends up being, so long as you’re actually using them to take care of yourself, and not pulling them like get out of jail free cards for whenever you feel lazy. If you give yourself more then you need for a particular week or month, then just don’t use them all. 

4. Take notes.

Notes? What notes? This is something I still struggle with, but if you’re like me and you hate filling out character and world building questionnaires before you write, then it’s incredibly helpful in the long run.

Identify what aspects of the story you like to wing, and then record the things you create as you go. A few techniques you could try to help you take notes as you write:

Plug key plot or character developments into a timeline.

Make a table with all the information you’re developing, based on categories that make sense to you.

Copy and paste key sentences or descriptions into another document.

Tag your scenes with any topics expanded upon within them. (Only certain programs have a function for this, but you can make up your own if via the find button and hashtags below the chapter title.)

Alternately write down a list of the unique terms you used so you can find them again easily when you need to check things.

5. Overcome procrastination and writer’s block.

I’ve covered these topics in more depth in these posts...

How to deal with procrastination.

When writer’s block stalls your story.

The key concepts there can be boiled down to:

Switch it up. Do something different then you’ve been doing and/or do it in a new way and/or in a new place. As it is in all things in life, the longer you struggle without change, the harder your struggle will become. If you’re unable to move forward in your writing, another type of change may trick your brain into feeling like you’ve accomplished something.

Let yourself fail. Your first draft won’t be perfect. Failure is what teaches us to succeed in the future. Continue telling yourself that and then tell it to your friends a well. Talk about it until you begin to finally believe it yourself. 

This has been Part II: Writing. You can also find Part I: Outlining and Part III: Editing.

[horistans]

hello friends uwu it’s been some time!

Been filling up the queue every once in awhile and I’ve updated the blog’s theme! Please feel free to take a look at it! I am using a glenthemes theme.

I am still in the process of updating everything (such as adding announcements, properly making a change log, etc)

It’s quite an unceremonious return, but I can’t wait to share stuff with you all again!! 

I might be asking for feedback on this blog (specifically in regards to tagging) if that’s okay. If you have any suggestions for me, I’d love to hear them! The interface hasn’t seemed to change TOO much since I left, but with the new characters, I’m wondering if I should change the tags again...

If you’re interested, keep reading to get details on what I have done so far and what I’ve been up to during my hiatus!

On the desktop theme, I’m planning on keeping a similar format! With links on the side to where you can read GSNK, the taglist, and my fanfics. I intend on updating the announcements page for important dates (when gsnk ch are released on GanGan, when the most recent CMC chapter was released, character birthdays, etc). The News container will later be updated to contain blog changes (so, a change log) at some point.

I removed the submissions feature on this blog, since it was never used!

I’ve already updated the About page and was surprised to be reminded of the original intent of this blog! It won’t be happening anytime soon, but if we can host more events in the future, I think it would be very fun.

When I read the old About, I was reminded the original purpose of horisexual was actually to host fanfic competitions! Your love and engagement with my old fics made me really nostalgic, and a few on the GSNK discord convinced me to jump back into tumblr. I am glad that everyone is still so friendly and nice!

Re: the submissions feature (mentioned above), if we ever get to a point where we host a fanfic contest, I will likely be using the submissions as the way to submit.

(Speaking of events, will you be participating in GSNK Week? I’ve planned out what I want to draw already and I’m super excited~~)

I have also updated my Fanfics page using code from namjooneh but will continue to work on it so it fits horisexual better. I might have implemented this new format, but the filters don’t seem to work, so I’ve already found a backup that I just need to enter the fic information into.

You may also note that none of the long chapter fics are in there (except for one) because I’ve only decided to rewrite one of them (for now! We’ll see where that motivation goes, haha)

That being said, are there any ways you would like the fics to be filtered? I don’t believe the new format has a filter system, but it would be nice to know what information you would like me to add to the blurbs and previews!

As for an explanation for my hiatus:

I was receiving a lot of hate on my personal blog around mid-2016. A lot of the attacks were about information I overshared, which as a minor, I should have been more mindful of. I am ashamed of how I acted back then (refusing to simply ignore/block and instead kept responding && the information that I was freely giving out), but I’d like to think I’ve healed a lot since then. I have since went in, deleted all my posts on my personal blog from 2016, deleted the few remaining hate messages still in my inbox from that time, and am ready to start again.

What I’ve been up to:

In the past 4 years, I’ve been attending university within my state! Our GameDev program is apparently one of the best programs nationally, but no one seems to know that outside of our university (we were told to put it on our resume and bring it up in cover letters haha) so it’s a bit weird to talk about. I have made some games! This is a link to my portfolio if you want to know a little about them.

I’ve also started a ko-fi page! I used to be a dual major until recently, so I am taking an extra semester (plus this summer semester) to finish up my credits as I graduate. Graduating later than 4 years isn’t a big deal, but it’s very hard financially. Student loans are no longer willing to help support me, I will be a part-time student in the fall (little to no financial aid), and I’ve been barely been able to support myself as of late since my job assigned me on a project with a $2 pay cut from my regular rate.

I also got accepted into an internship program in Japan! As mentioned before, financing the rest of my tuition is hard enough, and now I need to be able to afford my plane ticket, the program fees and living expenses. I am currently studying Japanese for the N3 certification, but we’ll see how that goes (I’m going to stay hopeful!! I still have time!!)

If you want to know more about Ko-fi and the program I’m doing, I made a YT video a month ago. It also briefly explains why I find this internship so important to my professional development. If you have the time, resources, and would like to support me, I would greatly appreciate it! I even have a sticker club reward for monthly supporters, and a portion of those sales goes to Project COVID-19, a fundraising project by a few of my colleagues who are raising money to purchase PPE for health facilities nationwide (US). 

I would like to explain more, but covering the past 4 years is a long time (haha)... and you’re here for the GSNK content! I am sure there will be loads of more opportunities to talk about myself (apologies if I do so...) so I will end it here. 

Thank you for being a follower of horisexual for so long. And if you’re new here, welcome!

I am currently taking summer courses and working (remotely), so I do not know how active I will be, but I will definitely return to fill up the queue a few times a week- if not every day. I have a few asks from before I left/received during hiatus. You can still submit prompts to me via ask and I will try to get to them!

If you want to talk I am also on discord ( JamKats#9424) and twitter @/jamkataclysms (note my twitter is mostly art & games). I also have a ko-fi account where I post GSNK fanart sometimes! https://ko-fi.com/jamkats

I hope you have a great day! As a reward for reaching the end of this long post, here’s a recent redraw of one of the gsnk omakes! (from vol 10)

If you’re in the GSNK server, you’ve probably seen it already, so I guess it’s not that good of an award...The other (the first) redraw I did has been queued so it will go up sometime this week!

I spent all night studying, so I’ll probably go to sleep now <3 thank you again :)

[brainfoodgp]

Winter/2019

“I’ll tell you what freedom is to me. No fear.”

 -Nina Simone-

The New Year is fresh upon us. And with 12 exciting months ahead my mission for Brain Food Garden Project is moving forward and off to a wonderful start. 2019 kicked off with my being interviewed by Community Access for their nonprofit C Magazine coming out this spring. I contributed as co-writer with a group of my fellow peers to my first Psychiatric Journal, Ethical Human Psychology and Psychiatry: An International Journal of Critical Inquiry, writing about my lived experience regarding trauma impact. My fellow peers and I were invited to share our ideas by Teena Brooks from The Department of Health and Mental Hygiene. Teena as lead writer shared our work with the NYC Trauma Impact Learning Community in the article. And I am immensely grateful for her having invited me to collaborate and for her continued mentorship and friendship.

The final i’s have been dotted and t’s crossed on the fiscal partnership agreement with BioCities. And Founder Kate Bakewell and I will be making our partnership final at a signing at the Urban Justice Center on February 21st. Chef Annette Tomei’s first 10 recipes for the BFGP cookbook 33 Delicious Recipes for the Brain are currently being taste tested. And I am editing the peer stories that will go into the book as well as writing my story and how it evolved into my mission and dream for creating Brain Food Garden Project. We are looking at a release date for the cookbook just in time for the 2019 holiday season. And season two of The Candor Report podcast is currently in development for a 6 episode season debuting this summer.

And finally, I am supper excited to be writing the first Seeds for Wellness Journal of 2019. In this winter edition my BFGP Feature is expanding on an idea that I spoke about as a speaker at last year’s Howie The Harp graduation ceremony. The subject, the Status Quo Vortex a frustrating phenomena, my fellow peers continue to inform me, is a constant challenge to avoid in the workforce. I share the four boundaries that I created for myself that I utilize in every area of my working life. In the section, What I’m Reading, I share a book perfect to honor Black History Month. And if you believe as I do that black history and black lives matter three hundred and sixty five days out of the year. Trust me when I say the writing is so superb and the authors clarity and research so precise you’ll want to read it no matter what the month. I’m back as well with more Notes from the Resistance and wrap this issue up with another mouth water recipe in my newly renamed section Delicious Recipes for the Brain in honor of the upcoming cookbook. 

So as always read on and let me know what you think on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram.

BFGP Feature:

My Thoughts on Avoiding the Status Quo Vortex

While the importance of peer workers in clinical settings is becoming less and less disputed and acknowledged as an important necessity in mental health recovery. Peer workers continue to be scapegoated and underappreciated in the medical model. As I’ve learned recently in a program that I’m working with currently. Even in a non medical model setting, our opinions are neither required nor desired it seems in making major decisions that effect our fellow peers. And although throughout my work, I constantly promote peers working towards advancement into higher positions of authority within the system to stake a larger claim in the very institutions and organizations that were created to assist us in our recovery. I have witnessed first hand where that additional power can pull one even deeper into a concept I started referring to as the Status Quo Vortex.

I first addressed this term with the 2018 graduates of the Howie The Harp Advocacy Center discussing this phenomenon I encountered not long after starting to work as a peer in the mental health field. The Status Quo Vortex is a field of energy that I’m sure can be found in any industry but seems overtly present in the human services field. The behavior that creates this energy… mediocrity and complacency. And although I first noticed this behavior in medical model workers: Psychiatrists, Psychologists, Case Managers and management in all its forms.

Peers as I explained to the graduates are not exempt. It starts in a myriad of small ways, for example, working peers gossiping with clinicians about a fellow peer around the water cooler. And then as I witnessed during my time working in mental health affordable housing it metastasizes into much uglier behavior. Working peers start telling the peers they’ve been assigned what to do or how to do it. Instead of listening and being fully present to the peers needs. they start calling peers “client” and documenting in their notes using medical model terms. One peer that I worked with that had been working in the system for several years took pride in calling herself a “tuff love” peer. I must add here that during my entire time in school not once did I take a course called or on “tuff love”! I was told of another example where caseworkers and management started asking the working peer to take pictures of a peer’s apartment that was decided weren’t meeting hygiene requirements. While this working peer put her foot down and said no in this case. These are the types of work experiences you will find that pull you increasingly closer toward the vortex. The vortex turns your conviction in to apathy and your wanting to be a team player turns into ethical dilemmas that you find harder and harder to navigate. Cross the line by standing for what you know to be right, will at best cost you your job, and at worst your reputation. Because the last thing you want to be known as is “difficult” code word in the workforce for “crazy”.

As I said to the graduates I spoke to back in October. There are no patent answers for entering the workforce and completely avoiding the Status Quo Vortex. However, what I learned for myself was that creating boundaries for what you will and will not tolerate was the best path forward for me. I created four boundaries… and no matter if I’m looking to take on partnerships for Brain Food Garden Project, working for another organization or agency, interviewing someone or being interviewed, I carry these four boundaries with me wherever I go. And If they are not met, I simply walk away no harm, no foul.

These are my four boundaries that I will never let anyone cross.

1.)  Passionate/ Compassionate Vision- Personally, I don’t want anyone in my life that can’t meet this one. However, in my work environment, the place where we spend most of our lives… imperative.

2.) Community First- If the lives of the community you serve are not at the forefront of every decision you make as an organization I walk away immediately. If my community isn’t being served and most importantly HEARD. I walk away.

3.) Getting it Done Together- Anyone that has met me will be the first to tell you that I will do anything in my power to support team work and to be a team player. I have always believed to do this effectively one must remove EGO. However, this doesn’t mean that I will compromise my integrity or my humanity EVER.

4.) Lived Experience and Peer Principles ALWAYS informs the work- That is my job, that is my mission, that is my life. You don’t like it. Don’t hire me or don’t work with me.

Whatever plan you create for yourself to avoid the Status Quo Vortex I sincerely hope it works for you. Finding one’s own path in the workforce can sometimes feel like tiptoeing through a land mine. Oh, but how rewarding when you reach the other side and have learned for yourself what you will no longer accept and take from the system!

What I’m Reading:

When Maya Angelou wrote, “We are more alike my friends than we are unalike.” I’ve always believed those to be the truest words ever written.  However, reading Monica M. White’s powerful and beautifully researched and written book, Freedom Farmer’s: Agricultural Resistance and the Black Freedom Movement, which I am currently reading and a little over halfway through. I am transfixed by one idea that runs through its pages, that I have daily conversations with my fellow peers. She writes, “He (Marcus Garvey) sought Booker T. Washington’s help in planning a series of lectures he would deliver across the United States to raise funds for the venture (an industrial farm and educational institute). Subscribing to the ideals of black nationalism, pan-Africanism, self-determination, and self-reliance as a means to develop political and economic autonomy.”

The last two, self-determination and self-reliance are words I hear spoken in the Mental Health Peer Movement all the time. It is all we truly want, truly crave and yet it escapes us like trying to find an oasis in a desert. And yet having them both truly does give one political and economic autonomy. It rang in my head loud as a kettle drum that all that any movement of minority peoples want is to be given the tools to practice self-determination and self-reliance. And as I am learning from this amazing book there is no greater way to achieve these goals by growing food for one’s own people.

I am just finishing the section titled, Bypass the Middleman and Feed the Community. It discusses how the black community uses agricultural cooperatives as a means of community development and as a strategy for resistance. Each and every chapter simply blows my mind!

I am absorbing, learning, and growing from this simply perfect book. Not only is it breaking down and allowing me to observe my own white privilege from another vantage point. It is also teaching me how to utilize the lessons of the black agricultural cooperative model in reaching more of my community. Maybe one of the reasons I love that Maya Angelou quote so much is that mental health affects all of us. It doesn’t care if your black, white, gay, straight or what part of the world you come from. However, where you come from and what color your skin is does influence one's access to mental health services, quality of services, and yes how much and how well we are able to feed our brain. 

This is a must read book for anyone that considers themselves a food justice advocate, an ally to the black community or simply a human being that has an interest in understanding how our racist past and how a racist President Johnson destroyed Lincoln’s promise of “40 Acres and a Mule” which ultimately denied access to land and thus economic power to a newly freed people.

Notes from the Resistance:

The state of our union is not strong. By securing one of the chambers of congress with the most woman, LGBTQ+ and minority representation, including muslim and two indigenous woman. At least my faith was restored that not all American’s are authoritarian fascists. Just around 37% it now seems. In this edition of the NftR. I wanted to showcase a few grassroots movements taking place around the country you might not have heard about. And also to feature the voice of one of my favorite resistance fighters.

1.)  A farm in Phoenix gives formerly incarcerated people a new way to grow... click here

2.)  When I came out of the closet as gay. My grandmother was one of my biggest supports and champions. Now grandparents’s in the Navajo Nation are doing the same...click here  

3.) Farmworkers have had it. And they aren’t going down without a fight...click here 

4.) Chef Elizabeth Falkner speaks out on the #MeToo movement in today’s restaurant industry...click here

5.) Resistance fighter Robert Reich on the need to start fighting for the common good...click here  

Delicious Recipes for the Brain: 

So in honor of the cookbook I’m developing with Chef Annette Tomei I am renaming my recipe section Delicious Recipes for the Brain and this first recipe of the new year is one of my favorites. I cook it all the time and it features one of my all time favorites Eggplant. Tip: Cook a lot and freeze it it reheats beautifully!

Eggplant and Pepper Pasta

Ingredients:

2 medium red bell peppers 2/3 cup extra-virgin olive oil 2 medium eggplants, peeled and cut into 3/4-inch cubes (about 8 cups) 2 cloves garlic, very thinly sliced (1 tablespoon) Kosher salt and freshly ground pepper 1 teaspoon finely chopped fresh oregano 2 tablespoons red-wine vinegar 1/2 cup coarsely chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley, plus whole leaves for serving 4 ounces fresh mozzarella, torn into bite-size pieces 12 ounces campanelle or other curly pasta

Putting It Together:

1.)  Place peppers directly over a gas flame and cook, turning occasionally, until charred all over, 8 to 10 minutes. Transfer to a bowl; cover with plastic wrap until cool enough to handle. Rub off charred skin with a paper towel; discard. Remove and discard seeds. Cut peppers into 1/4-inch strips.

2.)  Meanwhile, heat 1/3 cup oil in a large nonstick skillet over medium-high. Add eggplants, garlic, and 1 teaspoon salt; stir to combine. Add 1/3 cup water. Cover and cook, stirring occasionally and adding more water if needed, until eggplants are very tender but still hold shape, 10 minutes. Stir in oregano; cook 1 minute. Transfer to a large bowl; add peppers, remaining 1/3 cup oil, vinegar, parsley, and cheese. Let stand while cooking pasta.

3.)   Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Add pasta; cook according to package directions until al dente. Reserve 1/2 cup liquid, then drain. Toss pasta with eggplant mixture until fully coated (add pasta water if needed to moisten, 1/4 cup at a time). Season with salt and pepper, sprinkle with parsley leaves, and serve.

Join The Candor Report podcast as a SPONSOR!

If you are interested in becoming a sponsor for season 2 of The Candor Report podcast contact Brain Food Garden Project at brainfoodgp@gmail.com

[marysmithston90-blog]

The truth behind credit card interest rates

Credit cards get a bad rep - and for good reason. On the one hand, they can feel like God's gift, allowing you to leverage their awesome travel rewards, easily track your spending, take advantage of free car rental insurance, and build credit for things like home loans.

BUT credit cards can also be an absolute nightmare. Practically, everyone has a story about falling into debt, paying late fees, or dealing with unauthorized charges.

That's why it's so important you optimize your credit cards to make them work for you instead of the other way around.

And while there are many different systems you can put in place to achieve this, I want to talk to you about one element of your credit card that can potentially save you hundreds a year: credit card interest rates.

Why is your credit card interest rate so important? Check out this email I got from a reader named Aaron a while back:

I was fortunate enough to come out of school with no student loans, but do have $4,364.11 in credit card debt over 2 cards. One is $999.03 and the other is $3,365.08. I just started reading your book yesterday, today I called the card with the higher balance to lower my APR from 19.99%. I have had this card for almost 4 years. My Mom had been paying the minimum for a year or so, but since I became full time I took over any other bills my parents were paying. I have paid $200 the last 3 months and my minimum payment is around $89.

Anyways, I just called and asked, (I had to do no negotiating really, I just followed the script you have in your book) and I got my APR lowered from 19.99% to 14.24%, effective immediately.

Basically, the $13.95 my girlfriend paid for your book will more than pay for itself by the time I get my next bill.

AWESOME!!

By lowering his credit card's interest rate down just a few percentage points, he's able to pay down his credit card balance much faster. Now THAT'S a Big Win.

Today, I want to give you a breakdown of your credit interest rate, what to do if you miss a payment, and the exact script you can use to lower your interest rate today.

What are credit card interest rates?

A credit card basically gives you a short loan for the month. If you pay it off completely during that monthly period, you don't pay for the loan - it's an interest-free loan.

Pretty useful, right? Well, if you don't pay off the loan in its entirety - let's say you spend $1,000 on your credit card but can only pay off $500 that month - then you have a balance on your card of $500.

Your credit card balance then has an interest charge. The size of that interest depends on what's called the Annual Percentage Rate (APR). Don't be fooled by that name either. Your credit card company uses your APR to find out how much to charge you on your statement each month.

So in the example above, you'd be charged $8.33 that month based off a 20% APR.  

($500 balance x 20% interest) / (12 months) = $8.33

Your APR will vary depending on a number of factors such as what kind of card you have and how long you've been building credit. According to a Federal Reserve report, the average credit card interest rate is 13.8%.

If you're a weirdo like me and REALLY want to get into the weeds of your APR, you can even calculate your daily APR. Doing so is simple: Take your credit card interest rate and divide it by 365. Voila! You have your daily credit card interest rate.

You can take that percentage and apply it to your credit card balance at the end of the day. That'll give you an accurate reflection of how much you owe the credit card company based off of your balance.  

If you're currently working to get out of credit card debt, this number could make a world of difference in how much you're paying off each month. That's why you're going to want to lower your credit card interest rates. Lucky for you, I have the exact script to do it.

The exact script to lower your credit card interest rates

Since the average APR is typically somewhere between 12% and 15%, it can be extremely expensive to carry a balance on your card.

Think of it like this: The average long-term return on investments in the stock market is around 8%. If you could get a 14% return on your investments, you'd be thrilled!

That's exactly what credit card companies all over the world are doing. You want to avoid the black hole of credit card interest payments so you can earn money - and not give it to the credit card companies.

That's why you should call your credit card company and ask them to lower your APR.

Here's a simple script you can follow to help you.

YOU: Hello, I'd like to lower the APR on my credit card, please.

CREDIT CARD REP: Umm…why?

YOU: I've been a loyal customer to you for X years. Also, I've paid my bill in full and on time for the past few months. I know a few other credit cards offering better rates than what I'm getting right now, and I'd hate for this interest rate to drive me away from your service. What can you do for me?

CREDIT CARD REP: Hmm. Let me check…Mr. Sethi, I just discovered that I can lower your rate from 15% to 12%. Will this work?

When the conversation is finished, follow these three very important steps:

Step 1: Hang up the phone.

Step 2: Hold up one hand above your head.

Step 3: Use your other hand to high five yourself because you just successfully negotiated a lower APR.

This is a quick and easy way to get a Big Win with one phone call, BUT it's also completely unnecessary.

BONUS: If you want even more tactics you can use to optimize your credit cards, check out the 2-minute video below, which was recorded in approx. 1976.

It's important to note: Your credit card interest rates don't matter. I've gotten some heat for this idea but I don't care. At the end of the day, it shouldn't matter how much your APR is.

Why it doesn't matter if your credit card interest rate is 3% or 80%

It's simple: I never carry a balance on my credit card - and neither should you. When it comes to making purchases, if I can't pay it off at the end of the month, I don't buy it.

Let's say you have a $10,000 balance on your credit card and you pay the minimum amount, which is around 2.5% every month. How much will it actually cost you? The answer is shocking. Get ready!

If you only paid the minimum on your $10,000 balance, it would take you 452 months (over 8 years!) and cost you over $19,000 in interest alone.

In other words, you'd pay around $30,000 for a $10,000 balance.

That's if you just pay the minimum monthly payment. How about if you pay the same amount every month so that you pay down the balance faster over time?

Let's take the same $10,000 balance and pay $250 off every month.

It will cost you more than $6,000 in interest and take you 67 months to pay off the balance. Even if you don't buy another thing in that time!

This is why credit card companies are so incredibly profitable, especially with young people who don't know any better.

The point is pretty obvious:

Don't carry a balance (if you do, pay it off as quickly as you can).

Pay the maximum possible on your balance every time.

If you can't pay off a purchase by the end of the month, don't buy it.

“But Ramit,” people say, “what about homes and college and cars? How can I pay that off in one month?” Yes, true, those very expensive purchases necessitate some kind of longer-term loan. But not with your credit card.

So when I hear people excited about their introductory interest rate (“It's 0% for 6 months!!”), I'm not really impressed. As long as you pay your balance in full every month, your credit card interest rate is meaningless.

Do this next: Try the Credit Card Payment Calculator

If you have credit card debt - even if you aren't sure exactly how much you have - we can help.

Try our new Credit Card Payment Calculator to visualize exactly how much you owe - and more importantly - how 1 or 2 Big Wins can radically accelerate your debt payoff … plus the exact steps you can take right now.

Here's to the first step in a Rich Life.

Try the Credit Card Payment Calculator now »

Bonus: Get my best credit card tips

You can now get a full chapter from my New York Times bestselling book, I Will Teach You To Be Rich, on optimizing your credit cards, for free.

It'll help you tap into credit card perks, max out your rewards, and beat the credit card companies at their own game.

I want you to have the tools and word-for-word scripts to fight back against the huge credit card companies. To download it free now, enter your name and email below.

The truth behind credit card interest rates is a post from: I Will Teach You To Be Rich.