#IVE STAYED UP AND PERSEVERED !

[sockreads]

chapter 5 of nine lives by machiroads !

(chap 4 here)

⬇️ we start off with eraserhead being demoted to cup holder 😞 determined unfit for hero work by the docs ig

their emotional constipation means so much to me🌕 🐺

aizawa and yamada confront ur feelings challenge level impossible 😾😾

his whole talk with bkg is so ijbol like where does he keep finding the patience 😭

MIDNIGHTT

oh the little mannerisms with all the students visiting and mentioning midnight again…… kero…☹️☹️☹️

aizawa spiraling ☹️🗳️🤧 he needs his emotional support buddy and extensive therapy 🎀🧼🫧🩹✨

and i’ve finished the chapter sad and tired :( but thank god i waited until ao3 was back up again I AM A FIGHTER 🥊NOT 🙅‍♀️A QUITTER👎 teheehehe i can’t wait to get emotional over a high school teacher again next chapter 🤭🤭

(chap 6 here)

[starjunkyard]

A scene of foreman telling house in ep21 s8 that "persevering through pain for loved ones... isn't that what life is?" before being followed up by a scene of house screaming at taub in the middle of the hospital hallway that life is pain. Life is pain. His entire life is pain. How he wakes up everyday and thinks about ending it. And yet hes still fucking here and what is that if not a confirmation that house's entire life is lived for wilson

Its so like. Because from an outsider's perspective its so childish. Its so out of bounds though thats completely in character for house; you don't tell people whether they should live or die, least of all if they're diagnosed with a terminal illness you know will suck the life out of them every second they aren't in the ground. You don't get to tell people that you dont have that right but. But. but

House is here and house is in pain. He's hurting and he's been hurting and he wants that to end but its been an unspoken agreement for years that wilson would never forgive house if he just gave up. Wilson would never let him do that. He would never ever forgive house for that not ever

So house is here!!!!!!!!!!!!!! He is alive!!!!!!!!!!!! Because wilson is his best friend and house cannot live in a world where wilson hates him even if he isnt around to feel it. So house persevered through the pain he grit his teeth and just kept fucking Going because wilson hating him is a worse fate than any infarcture any perpeptual state of chronic pain, a fate worse than anything

Before stacy before cuddy before everything it was new orleans and wilson in that cell. House has been living for wilson. House's entire life past the infarcture and the pain and the pain and the pain has been for wilson. He has been living in unimaginable pain for 20 years because its been an unspoken agreement that i need you i want you you need me you want me. I need you here you cant go anywhere You cant leave me

20 years of being in a perpeptual unending state of chronic pain. Years of living under this unspoken agreement, being bound to this contract that keeps you screaming keeps you hurting keeps you gutted and emptied out but you never minded it, you never left. you let it take you because you love him. Because you love him he loves you and he lets you love him and thats enough

So can you imagine what a slap in the face it is to have him tell you outright that he wont live for you.

That his life, his death: it'll be about him. All this whilst your entire life has belonged to him. Your life your death everything you've ever done its been about him for him. For him. And you feel furious and cheated to tears because its then that you realise he never even asked. You gave it to him handed your bleeding beating heart warm and fresh to him on a silver fucking platter and he never even asked for it. But you're asking him now. You're actually asking him you're begging him, you are begging him you're telling him that you love him, and he's saying no? He's saying no?

Can you even begin to imagine-- just a fraction of that betrayal? That humiliation? I've fucking grit my teeth weathered 20 years of pain i stayed alive because i knew that you wanted me to-- because i knew that you loved me and you wanted me to stay, and that was fine, because i loved you too. And i never even made you say it. I never made you say the words because i thought it was something we both understood intrensically, down to the bone-- and still im telling you now that i need you that i love you and now the deal's just off?

I weathered through 20 years of pain because surely you would have done the same for me-- and you're telling me now that your life is going to be lived on your own terms? when my entire life has been lived for you? When ive been in hell for 20 years just so i could keep loving you? You; you looked at me in the eyes, led me on had the gall to keep me alive-- just to sit here now and tell me that the agreement ive lived my whole life around was a one-man deal? That you cant be bothered to stick your heels in the dirt a little, grit your teeth and go through a quarter fraction of the hell ive gone through so that you stay here! can be here Be Here and keep continuing to love me when ive been doing that wordlessly thanklessly for 20 years? How could you make me ask? How could you tell me no?

How could you keep me alive and breathing if you knew that this was even remotely in the realm of possibility? You kept me in the dark-- knew this whole time that leaving this friendship could actually be an option for you-- and you kept me alive?

[whimsical-blood-fairy]

spoilers for the gold finch!!!! but i need to vomit about this book !!!!! these are some of my sporadic thoughts im stewing over

there's a review on the very first page of the goldfinch that calls this book an 'epic love story' which originally made me do a hard eye roll but upon reading The Final Pages i had a realisation that made me feel so silly for not seeing it sooner: this isn't a love story about theo and pippa (she does play into it of course, i mean you dont spend 30k on a necklace for just anyone), but a love story about ART. theo's love for the painting. his love for antiques, furniture. his love for his mum. his love for his mum projected onto the painting... fuck me. realising this put the whole story into a new light for me and im SO glad it didn't turn out to be a plain old romance.

he's so infuriatingly nihilistic, more and more as he gets older, but at the very end we see his love for persevering through it - some (borderline) masochistic way of living, he describes it as the meeting point between despair and otherness, where lives the sublime. he says, yes, im depressed and traumatised, but it is here, in this middle place, that i experience joy. and then he literally is: in his #redemption arc where he's buying back all the fakes and staying in hotels, napping in airports.

also the way he describes his dreams about his mum; not of her presence but of her absence. hits so hard im reeling. that gut ache of knowing you have just missed that person. they're just around the corner, wait! and then you wake up.

god and i really loved the the chapters set in las vegas. that feeling of teenage boredom and invincibility. hazy nights, stupid best friend, almost in love with one another. stuck in the middle of nowhere, can't escape. vodka and beer and weed just to make the days go by. ughhhh i loved this part because i so so so related to the feeling you have as a teenager of it going on forever; you will always be 15 and nothing matters. fuck while i was reading it i was hit with so much nostalgia. fucking around with your friend like you're at the edge of the world and nothing matters. sprawling desert all around.

i read a reddit comment talking about the ending: not overly sentimental but left you swooning. exactly it! theo is a fuckwit but he sure made me feel just a little bit better about this life i must keep on living!! there's so much i could say about this book but im still in shock that ive finished it... i will read it again one day and i cant wait for the new meaning i extract from it then

[lemmilemura]

HEAR ME OUT ON THIS REQUEST PLZ, ok so the reader a huge crush on simon right? but theyre not friends at all, like they’ve never met eachother other than having a few classes together and stuff (he hasn’t even posted about them on AT). BUT (since the reader is like so obsessed or whatever) the reader like, hacks into about that somehow, and they and simon meet and talk to eachother IN THE CODE OF THE APP. I THINK IT WOULD BE SO CUTE

im ngl ive had this idea for so long, theres a lot of plot holes in the req so you can do whatever to it, but plz keep the talking in the code of the app thing in it because i think it’s adorable 😭

Oh my fucking god that is genious!!! I absolutely love that idea! Thank you, omg, I'm full of energy again to write this, I never even thought of this!!! I missed you, pine-ferret, I really have.

All kept gender-neutral Based on the show

3am. Pitch black. The only light was coming from my computer screen. It was giving off a green glow into the room. It came from the fake hacking website I had open on my second monitor. Actual hacking doesn't do all that fancy stuff. Atleast not the hacking I was currently doing. My only companion, my only energy came in the form of Lipton Ice Tea. My motivation was what was behind that wall of code. It was grueling. It was terrible. It took hours. But I persevered. I powered through. I used all of my skills trying to get in. Trying to achieve my goal.

What was that goal you ask? A simple one. One that, if you think about it, could have been solved much faster and easier, if I had more confidence and didn't have a panic attack every time I thjought of it.

My goal was to talk to Simon Kelleher.

I know, you don't have to point it out. Look, my severe social anxiety and also him not having a single idea who I was kinda kept me from talking to him. How do I know he doesn't know I exist? I have never been mention in AT. Not even once. And he's mentioned EVERYONE. Except for his friends, of course.

Hacking into AT was much harder than anywhere I'd hacked into before. "He set this up good... But nothing I didn't expect from him..." I mean of course he'd protect it well, if anyone got in there, it could spell disaster. Luckily, I wasn't planning on using it for anything nefarious. Only on the conquest of admiration.

I got really close to cracking it, I could feel it. Only a few more lines and I'd be in. "Seems like it's 1-0 for me, Kelleher. In, ya know, hacking and keeping your website un-hackable. In most other areas you definitely have way more points than me." I said to myself as I felt success get closer and closer.

But as always when I thought something would go my way, it did a U-turn.

Anarchi$k: Nice try.

"What the fuck. Wait, okay, okay, this is my big chance. This must be Simon. Stay calm, you got this."

(Username): Oh you haven't won yet.

Anarchi$k: Suuuuure. Now gtfo

(Username): Rude much.

I was then 'kicked out' of the code. But all he did was just send me a few steps back. Luckily, I had a habit of writing down every step that worked. So it only took a few seconds for me to geth where I was.

(Username): Hello again.

Anarchi$k: How tf

Anarchi$k: How did you do that?

(Username): A magician never reveals their tricks.

(Username): Now lemme get past, I'm almost in.

Anarchi$k: Not if I can stop you.

(Username): You just failed.

"Aaaaand kicked again. Alright, gotta work a lil faster then." This time, I managed to get further, only one password stood between me and having access to all of AT. That and Anarchi$k, aka Simon, of course.

Anarchi$k: Could you not?

Anarchi$k: Kicking you out is getting tedious.

(Username): Then stop kicking me?

(Username): Think on the bright side, now you know what you need to reinforce!

Anarchi$k: Good luck getting further.

Anarchi$k: You'll need it

(Username): Awwwww, thanks.

I wasn't kicked, but I could imagine why. There was no hint whatsoever to what the password could be. I'd probably not have multiple tries, either. "You can do this. and if not, hey, he knows you exist! Kinda. Not really..." I shook my head and then got to thinking. I knew almost nothing about him, so there was no way I'd ever get it.

(Username): Can I get a hint?

Anarki$k: Wtf no

(Username): Cmoooooon

(Username): I doubt anyone before has gotten this far

(Username): I deserve this

Anarchi$k: I don't even know who you are.

(Username): I know you

Anarchi$k: Everyone knows me

Anarchi$k: Because of what you're trying to get into.

(Username): Even if I told you my name

(Username): You wouldn't know who I am

Anarchi$k: Try me

(Username): Password first, Kelleher

(Username): :)

For a while nothing came. "Of course he wouldn't just give me it."

Anarchi$k: If you're still at it in like

Anarchi$k: A day

Anarchi$k: And haven't given up

Anarchi$k: I'll think about it

(Username): Yeeeah I don't believe you

(Username): I'll get this password

(Username): One way or another

(Username): But thanks for the offer

I ended up falling asleep after about half an hour of thinking. It was 4am, okay? School kicked my ass the next morning. I couldn't focus because I kept thinking about that stupid password. I only had 2 classes with Simon but he never said much in any of them, plus he sat behind me in both, so I couldn't even look at his desk or anything.

At lunch, I only nibbled at my food, while scribbling various ideas and getting frustrated. "If only I knew him better. Maybe this would be easier." My apple was only half gone, and there were only 30 minutes of lunch left. "You look like you could use some help." I looked at the voice suddenly next to me. "You're, Maeve, right? Maeve Rojas?" She sits next to me, with her tray of food. "Yep. It's okay if I sit here, right?" "You're not sitting with your sister?" "We have different lunches."

That was a first for many reasons. I never had anyone wanting to sit next to me. I'd never talked to Maeve before. I'd seen her a handful of times with Simon and Janae. "What are you struggling with?" She asked as she leaned over. "Just some code. A... friend of mine forgot their passcode and has no idea what it was." "Well, any ideas?" The two of us spent the rest of lunch trying to figure out what the passcode was, and she never found out it was to AT.

I got back to it as soon as I got home. I was determined to figure it out without Simon's hint. I workshopped a little more on what me and Maeve worked on.

Anarchi$k: Wait you're actually here again?

(Username): Did ya miss me?

Anarchi$k: Ya wish

(Username): I wish to get into AT

Anarchi$k: Do I look like a Genie to you?

(Username): A Genie-ous

Anarchi$k: Oh my fucking god

(Username): Does flattery get me a free entry pass?

Anarchi$k: It gets you nowhere

(Username): Oh cmoooooonnnn

(Username): Just let me in!

Anarchi$k: I told you

Anarchi$k: 24 hours

Anarchi$k: You've got 12 left

(Username): Ugh

(Username): Party pooper

"C'mon brain, think of things. C'mon brain, be so smart." I repeated to myself an amount of times I do not know. I brainstormed all the way through dinner, and way into the night.

"I only have one hour left. Either I could just give up and wait for the hint. Or I could crack this and be amazing and impress him..." the latter was the one I really wanted, but I knew it was very very unrealistic.

Anarchi$k: 30 minutes buddy

Anarchi$k: Or do you already give up?

(Username): I never give up

(Username): i never let down

(Username): I never run around or desert

Anarchi$k: okay for that you only get 15 minutes left

(Username): WTF why?

Anarchi$k: you fucking rickrolled me wtf did you think was gonna happen?

(Username): you'd find the joke so hilarious and give me the code and then we fall helplessly in love and live out our days only communicating in code?

Anarchi$k: wow

Anarchi$k: yeah that's not gonna happen

(Username): worth a try

Anarchi$k: why do you want to get in so badly anyway?

Anarchi$k: I mean I know why but goddamn just give up already

(Username): wow you must be braindead

(Username): I just told you, dumbass

Omg I actually just said that. Maybe it was the fact that he had no idea it was me that was giving me that confidence. God knows I would never be able to get a single word out if we were actually face to face.

Anarchi$k: you must be so desperate and deprived of attention if you come to me of all people

(Username): you do realize that backfired, right?

Anarchi$k: I am very well aware

(Username): you should like

(Username: idk

(Username): be happy that there's someone who like you

(Username): and stuff

Anarchi$k: oh I'm very flattered

Anarchi$k: but still

Anarchi$k: like wtf

Anarchi$k: also back to the I don't fucking know you part

(Username): If I told you who I am

(Username): 1 it would ruin this great little 'game'

(Username): and 2 you'd still not know who I am cuz you don't know me

Anarchi$k: oh how fun

Anarchi$k: I get to experience having a stalker

(Username): it's not like that dumbass

(Username): ok what I can say is I also go to Bayview

Anarchi$k: narrows it only a small bit

Anarchi$k: and if you think that stops the stalker thing it doesn't

(Username): welp, I tried

Anarchi$k: and I succeeded

Anarchi$k: time's up, buddy

Anarchi$k: any final words before I send you back out?

Anarchi$k: I've changed pretty much eveything btw

I felt like at this point I only had two options.

1. Take the loss and lose all my progress, and this is where it all ends

2. Tell him who I am and it ends too

And I kid you not I blacked out while typing what I typed because I do not remember a single thing.

(Username): my name is (Y/N) (Y/L/N). We have a couple classes together. You sit behind me in them.

I only came back to consciousness after it was sent. I then cursed myself and curled up in a ball on my chair. Goodybe and chance to ever succeed. Goodbye future I'd dreamed of. Goodbye happiness.

I'd started crying a little too. Then I heard a sound. I looked up.

"What the fuck" I was greeted by the Admin panel of AT. Full access to everything.

Anarchi$k: not a lot of people would be willing to admit that

Anarchi$k: you got balls, (Username)

Anarchi$k: also I knew it was you the entire time lol

WHAT.

(Username): what

Anarchi$k: yeah I see you sometimes

Anarchi$k: you gotta work on the staring

Anarchi$k: also Maeve told me she helped you with a passcode during lunch

Anarchi$k: so yeah

(Username):...

(Username): I

I was speechless. Somehow, this was worse. Much worse.

Anarchi$k: I gave you access because I could use the help

Anarchi$k: of someone who knows their way around code

Anarchi$k: no offense to Janae and Maeve but they're not smart enough for this stuff

(Username): I

(Username): okay

(Username): I guess

(Username): this is going to be so awkward

(Username): just warning ya

Anarchi$k: oh I'm sure we'll be just peachy

Anarchi$k: also feel free to stuck around us at school

Anarchi$k: if your poor little heart can handle that

Anarchi$k: ;)

(Username): or my reputation rather

Anarchi$k: you're invisble

Anarchi$k: there's no reputation to break

Okay I know that ending was kinda meh but I do not know how to go on I hope you still like it qwq

[riderborn]

✧   ⸻   [  lizeth selene,  genderfluid,  they / she  ]     ;     congratulations on surviving the parapet, cadet  carmen jimenez, and welcome to the rider’s quadrant !  at twenty - three years old, you should know exactly what it takes to make it to graduation, especially being so persevering and ardent. though, i do suppose your tendencies to be obstinate and disdainful may make it hard to survive until threshing. other cadets say you remind them of the way your heart remains lodged in your throat long after carrying out a risky flight maneuver, an unsettling gaze that is both frigid & sweltering, split knuckles wrapped around a dagger rusted with blood, but we’ll have to see how true that is. remember: if you want a dragon — earn one.

I.   BASICS .

full  name.  carmen  ana  jimenez. age.  twenty - three. gender.   genderfluid. pronouns.   they  /  them  &  she  /  her  ( please  use  them  interchangeably ! ) current  location.   rider’s  quadrant. status.  single ;  unattached. orientation.  queer  /  lesbian  /  homoromantic. siblings.  none. signet.  not  yet  manifested. dragon.   not  yet  bonded. allegiance.   the  rider’s  quadrant.

II.   APPEARANCE .

hair.  near - black  hair  that  throws  warm  brown  hues  in  the  light,  typically  worn  piled  atop  their  head  haphazardly  or  in  its  natural  texture  in  waves  across  her  shoulders. eyes.   midnight  colored. height.   five  feet  three  inches. scars.   various  small  nicks  across  her  joints  from  her  childhood  of  training  to  become  a  rider. relics.   none  yet.

III.   MISCELLANOUS.

position.   first  year,  first  wing,  tail  section,  second  squad  member. strengths.  persevering,  ardent,  valiant. weaknesses.  obstinate,  disdainful,  singleminded. hogwarts  house.  gryffindor. alignment.   chaotic  neutral. zodiac  sign.   gemini. media  inspirations.    johanna  mason  ( the  hunger  games ),  danika  fendyr  ( crescent  city ),  sam  carpenter  ( scream  franchise ),  jesper  fahey  ( grishaverse ),  kol  mikaelson  ( the  originals ).

IV.   BIOGRAPHY.

carmen  was  not  meant  to  be  a  rider  at  birth.  they  were  born  to  a  single  mother,  a  healer  who  considered  herself  meek  &  soft-spoken.  everyone  always  joked  that  they  had  no  clue  where  this  child  had  come  from,  all  lifted  chins  &  bared  teeth  &  reckless  ferocity.  &  yet  carmen  always  loved  their  mother  just  the  same,  never  thinking  less  of  the  fact  that  miss  jimenez  was  a  healer  even  though  carmen  always  knew  she  was  destined  for  more.  so  their  mother,  ever  the  people  pleaser,  allowed  carmen  to  train  from  as  young  as  ten  years  old  with  the  mindset  that  it’s  better  that  she  prepares  her  for  danger  than  trying  to  keep  her  from  it  &  getting  her  killed.  so  carmen  worked  as  hard  as  they  could,  every  day,  for  twelve  years  to  be  worthy  of  crossing  the  parapet  &  bonding  with  a  dragon.  it  almost  didn’t  happen,  as  right  before  carmen  was  meant  to  leave  for  basgiath,  her  mother  became  secretive  &  reclusive,  staying  up  late  &  looking  unwell,  as  if  the  life  had  been  sucked  out  of  her.  understandably,  carmen  grew  worried,  asking  repetitively  what  was  going  on  but  their  mother  kept  tight  lips,  said  little,  &  continued  encouraging  their  child  to  prepare  for  what  awaited  them.  now  that  carmen  is  here,  fully  immersed  in  the  rider’s  quadrant  &  eating,  sleeping,  &  breathing  this  life,  they’re  starting  to  wonder  if  perhaps  their  mother’s  elusiveness  has  to  do  with  something  that  might  put  her  in  danger,  but  with  the  tight  rules  about  outside  correspondence,  their  hands  are  tied.  they’re  trying  their  very  best  to  make  it  through  this  first  year,  although  they  have  full  confidence  that  they  will.  they’ve  prepared  every  waking  moment  for  the  last  decade  for  this,  although  they’re  having  a  hard  time  wrapping  their  head  around  all  the  death  that  surrounds  them  now  that  they’re  here.  they  always  knew  how  consistently  death  showed  his  face  in  basgiath,  but  with  every  person  carmen  kills  or  every  friend  she  watches  die  they  grow  angrier  &  angrier,  threatening  to  boil  over  at  any  given  moment.

personality  wise,  carmen  is  a  lot  like  their  media  inspirations.  they’re  very  johanna  mason  coded  --  cutthroat  when  they  need  to  be,  grief  manifesting  in  anger,  &  doesn’t  do  well  with  authority  figures  ( when  they’re  in  the  wrong,  that  is ).  i  imagine  them  breaking  quite  a  few  rules  while  they’re  in  basgiath,  but  also  working  her  ass  off  to  get  where  she  needs  to  be  in  order  to  bond  a  dragon.  i  also  think  that  carmen  &  their  mother  both  are  probably  rebellion  sympathizers  but  obviously  that’s  not  common  knowledge  or  anything  they  would  verbalize,  but  just  something  that’s  been  bouncing  around  in  their  brain  since  they  are  kind  of  anti - authority  in  a  lot  of  ways.  also  she’s  very  much  an  act  first  think  later  type  person.  talk  shit  n  you  WILL  get  hit.  n  e  ways,  i’d  love  some  very  chaotic  things  for  my  very  chaotic  child !

V.   WANTED  CONNECTIONS.

enemies  enemies  enemies !!!  be  it  people  that  see  what  a  threat  carmen  is  with  how  quickly  they’ve  been  flying  through  the  challenges  thus  far,  or  people  who  just  give  bombastic  side  eye  due  to  their  inability  to  follow  rules  i  just  would  really  like  some  negative  angsty  things  for  car  < 3

perhaps  a  little  romantic  tension  for  the  girlies....  i  would  just  love  some  wlw  angst  here  tbfh  doesn’t  matter  if  it’s  past  or  present

friends  who  are  children  of  traitors  or  w / e ....  again  i  think  carmie  is  a  rebellion  sympathizer  so  she’d  definitely  be  befriending  those  with  rebellion  relics

older  riders  who  either  don’t  like  carmen’s  spunk  /  confidence  /  ego  or  who  see  a  mini  version  of  themselves  in  her  &  want  to  teach  them  all  that  they  know  

chaotic  reckless  friends  who  are  encouraging  carmen’s  bad  decisions  like  piercing  their  nose  in  their  first  year  barracks  late  at  night  or  drinking  so  much  they’re  hungover  in  class  the  next  day

literally  anything  else  pls

[investigatorysuspect]

Post Mortem

They danced with the the specter of death long before they greeted it. Fifteen moments in Natasha's life (and the lives of those she loves) shared with Death.

Written for be_compromised Halloween Trick or Treat.

Warnings: language, canonical character death, death-centered content and descriptions (no gore). Rated T.

I & II. Russian Orthodox and folk tradition distinguish between a good death and a bad death. Each with the means to affect the living and the dead.The Red Room distinguishes between methods of death and purposes of death. Each for the motives of opportunity and impact. 

For three days the body is laid out. For forty days, the spirit wanders. It is supported on its journey by those left alive, who take equal care in warding against the greedy overreach by Death. 

The Red Room reaps its students and the bodies disappear. Natasha cannot spare the emotion to consider it. Tomorrow there will be a new Irina, a new Karina, a new Sofia. Natasha’s concern is that tomorrow, there will be no new Natalia. What function do funeral rites serve when there are no souls to steward? 

[Sometimes they visit her in dreams]

[Sometimes she braids in a twist as Ninochka did]

-

In the chaos after Budapest, a Widow escapes the grip of the Red Room and flounders, adrift. Three years later, Natasha chases a lead on a string of assassinations and recognizes the handiwork. The Widow had wrenched herself from her former life but could not make the transition to her next one. Natasha wants to save her [almost saves her], but the woman clips Clint with a bullet and Natasha knows they will not be so lucky on the rebound. 

Clint teaches Natasha how to use a bench plane and he spreads juniper sprigs as the pine coffin passes. Natasha ties a belt around the white dress and drops rubles in the grave. The headstone is simple but solid. Tatiana Pavlova has a place in this world and the next one too. 

III & IV. When seventeen year-old Kenny Robinson gets bucked off a spooked horse and stains a boulder with the last of his warm blood, Clint’s mom bakes Mrs. Robinson a casserole that she ropes Clint into carrying over, shielded by a kitchen towel and smarting the palms of his hands as it is. When eleven year-old Clint Barton’s parents die after his dad crashes their vehicle into someone else’s, his neighbors deliver hamburger helper in a pyrex dish. Swordsman leaves teenage Clint for dead on a road outside of Ames and even Midwest nice does not have crockery to acknowledge the tragedy. 

-

When thirty year-old Clint Barton spits on the grave of his father, he thinks about taking a piss too, but he is dehydrated from his drive across half the country, and also, some fucker had decided to put his dad’s plot right next to his mom’s. That fucker was his brother, and Clint does not get why he’d gotten a vote, since Barney had been a kid himself at the time. The stop was an impulsive detour, anyway, and Clint still needs to swing by a store and pick up the last ingredients for dinner. Four months pregnant, Laura had been made to settle into their new homestead on her own while Clint got sent to Azerbaijan. He looks forward to surprising her with an early arrival that he’ll follow-up with home-cooked shepherd’s pie and Martinelli’s. Shit, he can’t forget the Martinelli’s.

V. At one point in one timeline, Vision will ask Wanda “What is grief, if not love persevering.” And if Natasha heard that question, at certain points, in many timelines, she would respond, “What is love?” And if Clint was there, at most points, in every timeline, Clint would answer, “It is this.”

VI. Even with an infant at home, Clint invites Wanda to join Natasha at the farm the autumn following Ultron. She shuffles through the front door a bowed creature and engages with her environment nervously until the florid sugar skull bearing Lila’s refusal to stay inside the lines draws her attention to the fridge. Tracing a finger around the hollows of an eye, she fidgets with the Star of David around her neck.

Later, Lila hops off the bathroom counter and shimmies her shoulders to flap the wings suspended down her back. Cooper tells Natasha that he learned about metamorphosis in school and segues clumsily into the creation of Frankenstein’s monster. He trails off so that Natasha can apply the face paint around his mouth and tilts his head obligingly for the line of stitches at his brow. 

Wearing their own cheap masks, Natasha and Wanda drive the kids to the city of Spencer and escort them through the neighborhoods best known for king-size candy bars. A child in an overpriced white sheet trips on the sidewalk in front of them and Wanda shakes herself from her startle to help gather the spilled goodies. Natasha watches a young girl wearing a Black Widow get-up skip towards a front door and ring the doorbell twice. Long past dark, the Barton kids are shepherded back into the car and they head for home. It is a struggle against weighted limbs to switch nylon for flannel before they can tuck over-exhausted children into bed. Baby monitor in hand, Clint offers apple cider, which Wanda accepts, and alcohol, which Natasha pours. Sitting around the worn kitchen table littered with torn chocolate wrappers, Wanda strokes the metal of her pendant once and cups her mug between both hands. 

“Pietro would have liked it, I think…” she says. “Halloween in America.”

Laura reaches and places her hand over Wanda’s. “We are glad you came.”

VII & VIII. Clint does not erect crosses for his family and, not feeling it her right, Natasha does not either. Some days it feels too hard to get out of bed and Natasha thinks her grief will swallow her whole. But if no one dies until their living memory does, Natasha will not go gently.

[When memories were ripped from her, was that a second murder, or the first?]

-

She drives without interruption to Iowa but pulls off the highway to sob at a rest stop. Re-routing, memory guides her to the cemetery populated with the remains of Edith and Harold Barton. She tidies both graves and talks to a mother about the man she knew her son to be. She tries not to think of that man as dead. Maybe next time she will make it to the homestead to do the same cleaning.

IX. For seventy-three hours and twenty-one minutes after Thanos snapped his fingers, the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier stands unguarded, at which point a ninety-two year old veteran takes up the post. Dreykov tells Natasha that the tombstone of her mother read “unknown.” When Natasha passes a grave without a name, she leaves a token for the dead.

X. Steve purses his lips when Sam describes Operation Wandering Soul. In the kitchen preparing herself a cup of tea, Natasha mirrors the expression.

“It is something the Red Room could have had me design, if they had reason to, and I was alive then,” she shares and draws a look from Steve.

It is true that not every line in her ledger tallies dead bodies. But not every wail in the night is amplified distortion.

XI. Clint takes his family to a theme park and Cooper drags them all through a haunted house. He laughs at the canned moaning and wiggles his arms in front of the convex mirrors to tickle the trembling out of Lila. After they exit, he follows the flow of traffic until yellow ducks with red targets drop ice down his spine. Natasha diverts the incoming offensive with a challenge at the water gun race. She wins Cooper a stuffed dragon with his last game ticket and he tries to use the plushie to barter Lila for three more. Only a trace of pallor lingers on Clint’s face when he takes Laura's hand and slings an arm around Natasha's shoulder. At a food stall, he buys them all cotton candy and Natasha evaluates if the taste seems novel as the sugar crystals dissolve on her tongue like Ohio.

XII . When Europe hollowed its earth for living flesh to decompose next to shell-shocked ghosts, it resurrected spirituality on the homefront. Blackout curtains bore witness to the popularization of séances; there were too few repatriated bodies before which to pray. 

When Thanos snaps his fingers, his immediate victims do not leave bodies either. Seeing their territory swallowed up by tombstones over unbroken ground, some administrations restrict graves for the other casualties— the victims of the plane crashes and the chemical spills, the starvations and the untreated illnesses, the suicides. Allegedly, at least a few functionaries go so far as to require corpse inspection at burials.

Reconciling The Decimation is a free-for-all. Some people clutch Revelations like it can anchor their matter to this plane, others erect altars and burn incense for the next iteration of their ancestors. A neighbor explains the failure of the spirits to answer her calls as proof that the snapped yet lived and a grandson knocks the bible from his grandfather’s hands, shouting, “God is dead.” Theologians tug at fraying vestments and scramble to revisit foundational texts. Philosophers in sweater-vests and leather jackets debate metaphysics and morality. 

Clint turns to an empty field, the last wisps of his children already gone, and for five years becomes Death, at the end of which time, he looks down at a yellow rock in his hand and wrestles with the reality of his own soul. The return of what was once half of all living kind serves as proof of concept to many and they are hounded with questions on what they remember, what they experienced, what prayers they heard. Clint lets Wanda’s confidence reassure him for a moment that somewhere, in some form, Natasha endures.

XIII. Clint scrubs at the build-up on the bolt. It is such a routine process that he could do it in his sleep. Instead, he remembers what Omari told him that morning. “Sierra Team lost Moreau on their mission in Manila two weeks ago.”

Natasha reaches for the lubricant. “Moreau… he the one with the god-awful gumbo at the New Year’s party?”

“Yeah. GSW to the chest. Died on scene.”

“Who’re they thinking to replace him with?”

“Oliviera.”

“She’s a good choice.” Clint agrees with her, moves on to the barrel, starts to hum, and then interrupts himself.

“What will it take for you to make your baklava this year?”

“A few charges of insubordination. Hill wants me for the hit in Ljubljana.” 

Clint supposes it's all the same. Hopefully, he’ll still be on holiday leave for the first. If the poor suckers at base didn’t eat all the baklava at the party, the leftovers would probably have been stale by the time he got back.

“You think you’ll make it back in time for Lila’s birthday?”

Lila’s birthday is in February. “I dunno. Has the date changed.”

“You are a jackass”

“Should just be a standard op. Tell Lila she still needs to ask you first about the pony.”

XIV, XV & XVI. Natasha cries, messily, for what she feels must be the hundredth time. She tells Laura this and adds that she hadn’t even spoken to Yelena since she was eleven years old. Laura wraps Natasha in her arms and explains that grief is not a linear process, not a neat process, not an exclusive one.

-

Laura soothes the last of Lila’s sniffles, pulls the bedspread up to her chin, and presses a kiss where the furrows of her brow have eased. Back in her own room, she cocoons herself fully under the weight of her down comforter and reminds herself that grief is not a linear process, not a neat process, not an exclusive one. While she is straddling the border of wakefulness and sleep, Clint burrows into her shelter and reaches out to rub salty residue with the weathered pad of his thumb.

-

Yelena unfolds herself from the grass above Natasha’s grave and stands. Pressing a last kiss to the cold stone, she whistles for Fanny and then whistles for Natasha. Only one of them responds.

[hallowed-be-thy-username]

To Papa IV,

I feel selfish for ranting, so my sincerest apologies.

Recently, I felt like I am not enough. I graduated last year, and I should be in college by now, but I've been living with my friend, and I feel horrible about it. I have a job, and I buy my own things, but I still can't shake the feeling of being a burden to everyone around me. If I ever told my friend, I think that they would believe I was making a joke, or that I was pathetic. I've tried everything I possibly could to get rid of this feeling. I have tried telling a therapist, I have tried to think positively, I have tried living on my own, but it didn't work, and I moved back in with my friend.

I am very sorry for telling you this and wasting your time.

Sincerely, a Sister of Sin

Dearest Sister,

No apologies necessary, little dove. First thing’s first, and I say this with affection, do not apologize for this. It is certainly is not selfish to get things off your chest, yes? Otherwise it sits and festers, rotting your heart. Second, I am so proud of you! Nothing has been easy during this lifetime, but especially not the last few years, and not only have you graduated but you also have a job to support yourself! This is a big achievement, piccola. You have persevered.

I understand what it is like to feel like a burden. You feel small, like you blend into the background, and maybe you want to stay there because it can feel worse to try to step forward. But you have so much ahead of you. Many opportunities for when it feels right to take that step. Here and now, celebrate how far you’ve come, be gentle with yourself and practice recognizing this, set yourself up for success. Once you reach a point where you are comfortable with this, focus on your growth. Growth of any kind requires proper care and conditions.

Not everyone takes life at the same pace. Find yours and do not focus on what “should” be, only what is. Don’t be sorry for this, sweetheart. Remember you are worth all of this.

All my love,

- IV

[pacifymebby]

Not an ask but I love how you and B are the perfect companions/partners/lovers. The way you talk about him is so romanic. Tell us your secret to love haha?

Aw bestie this is cute <3

I mean we're not the perfect couple, we do argue sometimes and its not always easy but i guess we do have a very calm and lovely little relationship.

I think a lot of it works just because we're well matched? Im a very anxious, over-thinker who struggles to stand up for herself. Im one of those vague wishy washy creatives that gets dubbed "too empathetic" and B is a very sturdy and earthy kind of boy, hes a logical thinker and although he has empathy he doesnt let people take the piss/knows how to stand up for himself. Like our differences make us fit together like a little jigsaw.

Hes also just really really kind and warm and like, just a really lovely boy. Wouldnt hurt a fly (litterally will not hurt any living creature, when he gets rid of spiders for me he picks them up so carefully and has whole conversations with them whilst hes taking them outside. He'll even pick a perfect spot to put them down as well) he a very pure man i guess haha.

I phoned him the other day when i was feeling super anxious and the minute i heard his voice i just immediately calmed down it was like a wave washing over me. And when i told him he couldnt even understand why he was just like "oh... Thats good im glad.." now every time he answers the phone he asks me "did it happen again?" like hes really proud of the fact its so cute.

Idk though i think relationships have to be about friendship and mutual respect, nothing is better than feeling both loved and respected, knowing someone cares about you in that way is very important and i think the only way you can have a healthy relationship.

I think sometimes falling in love with your best friend is actually the right thing to do and very much worth the risk.

This is definitely the happiest healthiest relationship ive ever had and i think its because the physical and sexual attraction came when we'd already been friends for like 2 years.

Idk, i guess some of its just nature and how we are, and i do kind of believe in soulmates and that everything in my life was leading me to meet him... But then also staying together and maintaining a loving relationship is about persevering and sticking it out through difficult patches.

B puts up with a lot of shit because i am very much not mentally well, and we do have differences of opinion/temperament and like expectations sometimes. So we both have to be determined you know?

Like i think maybe being determined to love is something important?

Sorry i feel like theres 0 advice or insight here and just me talking about how lovely B is haha

[bunnykitty13]

im not sure how to word this without it sounding parasocial(my socially inept ass x_x) but it's so genuinely awesome and empowering to see how far you've come over the years(been here since Ye Olden Days). i know life still has its challenges obviously but I'm glad you're doing better now regardless. stay strong bro!! (also your art style really tickles the brain :eye emoji:

DW UR FINE ik when someones being too parasocial and ive always been pretty public abt my Life Journey sooo >_<. i appreciate it a lot thank you!!

the only way i ever persevered is telling myself the only way outta the fire is to run straight through and it ended up being totally true. took a lot of pain and patience to get through to the other side but reaping the rewards of my labor finally is more rewarding than i ever couldve imagined ^_^

cant recommend therapy and a deep and honest introspection enough LOL i never would have recovered without some tough love from myself and my found family

[mjalti]

Miss Mjalti am i being ridiculous for wanting to quit my full time job for a part time gig? im making the most money i ever have, im eligible for benefits, and ive been at this place for a little over a month but i hate it soo much. im bored, i dont really interact with other people, and i cant listen to music. ever since i started this job my mental health has been in the pits. I need the money and i wanted to challenge myself by trying to stay on for a year but honestly i dread waking up every weekday. i think id feel better if i had more time for myself which part time would accommodate, but im worried im just being weak/ not persevering.

Don't challenge yourself for "a year". Challenge yourself for an emergency fund. Collect enough money to cover your expenses for 6 months to a year, so that when you do quit, you're not trading one bad mental health situation for another. Have an escape plan, but an actual plan, not a wish. I can't tell you what is or isnt ridiculous for YOU. I just know what would make my life easier if I were stuck at a shitty job.

[tired-eyes-cold-as-ice]

MERCER'S BOULANGERIE

Chapter IV. - Julie Molina

Summary: Mondays are rough, but at least there's Julie. Alex owns a bakery and thinks he’s got everything he needs until a gorgeous skateboarder crashes into his life and turns his whole world upside down. A story full of sweet pastries, yearning, and a lot of sadness… with a happy ending of course. Read on AO3, 3k taglist in the reblogs <3 Chapter Warnings: brief death mention, implied panic attack

Monday was, unsurprisingly, extremely rough.

Most Mondays were, but thanks to the combination of his persevering anxiety from the night before and lack of sleep partially caused by said anxiety, Alex was just about ready to throw in the towel, give up on all his bakery dreams and stay in bed for at least another month, hidden away from the world and all responsibilities.

Unfortunately, the rational part of his brain was quick to dismiss that idea by pointing out that if he didn’t pay rent, he wouldn’t really have a bed to sleep in for a whole month. Cursing that rational part of his brain, Alex rolled out of bed with a deep and heavily annoyed groan and shuffled around his room to grab whatever clothes he could find before making his way out and into the kitchen. No time to sit by the window and observe the city slowly waking up alongside him, but enough time to chug at least two cups of coffee to make up for the hours of sleep he so foolishly lost.

By the time he made it to the bakery, the clock read 5:14 a.m., and just like every morning, Alex began regretting his decision to start a business whose primary customer base were people grabbing breakfast before work. Alex was anything but a morning person. It was something he actually shared in common with Luke and Reggie, except they made the smart decision of taking over a store that was rarely busy in the morning, and opened at nine.

But, just like every morning, any feelings of discontent or annoyance disappeared as soon as Alex put on his apron and got to work. The heat from the preheating ovens caressed his cheeks much like his mother used to do as he sculpted shapes out of dough and pieces of pastry, piped out swirls of batter, and mixed up all sorts of wondrous fillings—sweet and savory alike. He hummed along to the music coming out of the small radio he had set up in the far end corner of the kitchen, just loud enough to be heard but quiet enough for Alex to be able to lose himself in his own little world.

As much as he hated waking up early, he forced himself to do so every time just so that he would have those couple of hours all to himself, turning his early mornings into a ritual of sorts. He could dance around the kitchen while the first batch of croissants puffed up in the oven, and he could sing along carelessly as he filled up all different kinds of quiches and tartelettes . He wouldn’t trade his early morning baking sessions for anything.

Especially since he was rarely alone at the bakery these days.

---

Julie Molina had a vibrancy to her that very few people possessed.

It was the reason she immediately caught Alex’s eye when she walked into Merci for the very first time, all bright smiles and curly hair and big eyes that seemed to sparkle as she looked around excitedly. The girl was wearing a pair of light wash jeans that were covered in hand-painted flowers of all shapes and colors, and a simple yellow tank top that complemented her skin tone beautifully. There was also a black tote bag slung over her shoulder which was filled with records undoubtedly purchased at Peters & Patterson .

Alex was so focused on trying to figure out which records she bought he didn’t even realize he was staring. Thankfully, the girl didn’t seem to mind. Instead, her smile widened even more when Alex finally met her eye.

“The guys at the music store said this place had the best coffee and pastries in town, so I just had to come see for myself,” she grinned at Alex, who found himself feeling strangely at ease. While he was always polite and tried his best to be friendly and welcoming, Alex really struggled with making small talk with customers. It never felt natural and his anxiety always got the best of him, leaving him feeling panicked and freaked out more often than not. This girl was different, though. Not that Alex was complaining.

“I’m pretty sure Reggie is incapable of lying so it must be true,” he said in response, unable to stop a smile from spreading over his face at the thought of his friends hyping up his bakery to their own customers. That granted him a giggle from the girl.

“Yeah, he seemed like it. You’re Alex, right?”

He gave her a hesitant nod in confirmation.

“Sorry, the guys kept mentioning your name so I’m just trying to fit the puzzle pieces together. I’m Julie,” she explained, extending her hand over the counter as she introduced herself. There was something so charming and genuine about her, and judging by the way Alex’s phone kept buzzing in his pocket, Luke and Reggie must’ve noticed it too.

He happily shook Julie’s hand and took her order, making sure to memorize it as something told him this girl was quickly going to become his favorite regular. And while his hunch was right, Alex could have never predicted that Julie Molina would go from being a regular at his bakery to a close friend in the span of just a couple of weeks.

Seeing Julie waltz into Merci with either Reggie or Luke (or sometimes both of them) by her side became a part of Alex’s daily routine. Julie fit in so well it felt crazy to think that there was ever a time when she wasn’t a part of the group. The boys quickly learned that she was still in college (majoring in music, of course) and that she had just recently moved in with her best friend Flynn not too far from where Luke and Reggie lived. She shared their sense of humor and love for music, and Alex couldn’t help but feel strangely connected to her ever since Julie told them about losing her mom when she was a teenager.

She was the first person besides his sister who seemed to truly get it—that bittersweet feeling Alex felt every time he switched the oven on, the overwhelming sense of belonging in his chest anytime he brushed his fingers over the pages of his mother’s old recipe book. While Alex had baking, Julie had music, and strangely enough, it was this peculiar bond of theirs that led to Julie working at the bakery.

Merci ’s first anniversary was quickly approaching and Alex was convinced that the whole city must’ve figured it out somehow because the store had never been busier. While certainly great for business, the large crowds of people constantly flooding in and out were starting to take a toll on Alex. His anxiety was through the roof pretty much every day and it didn’t take long before he reached his breaking point.

It was a day like any other, peak lunch rush hour, and Alex felt like he was going to pass out. Everything was too much. The lights were too bright, the voices were too loud, his chest felt too tight, but Alex kept going on full autopilot, too focused on his tasks to stop. So lost in the spiral of his own thoughts he barely registered Luke and Julie walking in and instantly making their way behind the counter beside him.

Next thing he knew he was hunched over in the back of the kitchen, struggling to catch his breath while Julie rubbed his back in comfort and Luke took care of customers in the front.

It took a while for his heart to stop racing, for his brain to calm down, and his lungs to start cooperating but eventually, Alex was able to get back to work. In the kitchen, that is, baking stuff that was running low or highly in demand with shaky fingers and a hazy mind. Luke had decidedly banned him from getting back behind the counter after taking just one look at him, so while the guitarist dealt with customers, Alex stayed in the comfort of the kitchen, taking orders from Julie who was constantly running back and forth between the two of them to keep Alex informed on what was happening, and to help Luke operate the coffee machine.

Alex ended up closing early that day.

Luke and Julie insisted on staying and helping him clean up since they were still worried about him, and Alex did not have the strength to protest so he at least offered to supply them with tons of free coffee and any leftover pastries they wanted as a thank you.

“Seriously, guys, thank you. You have no idea how much you saved me today,” he told them once the bakery was all locked up and the three of them were standing outside on the sidewalk. Alex kept his head low while he spoke, fighting off the embarrassment that was slowly crawling its way into his head. He knew it was his anxiety working overtime, but that didn’t make him feel any less shit about the events of that day.

He was broken out of his trance by Luke, who wrapped the baker up in a tight, warm hug which Alex immediately melted into.

“I think we do, bro. Go get some rest, you need it,” said the guitarist after a moment as he pulled away, smiling up at Alex kindly although his eyes were still filled with worry. He gave Alex’s shoulder a pat for good measure and shot Julie one of his signature grins before taking off in the direction of the music store where Reggie was undoubtedly losing his mind by that point.

Once he was gone, Alex turned to Julie who was still nursing her last cup of coffee in her hands. There was a gentle smile on her lips as she took a sip, humming quietly under her breath.

“Have you ever thought about getting some actual help? I know this place is your baby, Alex, but I’m not sure how long you’ll be able to run it as a one-man show, especially after today…”

There was nothing but love behind her words, but they still made Alex groan unhappily. He knew Julie was right. He had actually been thinking of hiring someone for a while now, but the idea always made him shudder. Hiring someone meant letting someone else into his dream, into his little paradise, and Alex couldn’t imagine allowing some stranger who didn’t understand what all of this meant to him to get that close.

Like Julie said, Merci was his baby and Alex had involuntarily turned into an overprotective suburban mother who would rather smother her child in her arms than give them space to grow and blossom.

He let out a long, deep sigh as he thought, looking anywhere but the girl in front of him. He finally settled on staring at the sky above, studying the clouds as they passed by slowly. One of them was shaped like a croissant.

But what if it wasn’t a stranger?

Huh?

What if it was someone who did understand? What if it was someone who already knew?

Oh.

For the first time that day, Alex could feel a genuine smile take over his face.

“Hey, Julie? Ever wanted to work at a bakery?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

---

“How come you never dance like this when I’m around?”

It was almost as if the record abruptly scratched as Julie’s voice cut through the music, startling Alex and nearly having him drop the tray of madeleines he was carrying to the oven while absent-mindedly swaying his hips to the rhythm of an unfamiliar Taylor Swift song playing from the radio.

The tray, thankfully, avoided its rendez-vous with the floor by virtue of Julie Molina’s cat-like reflexes, and the girl gave Alex an apologetic smile before delivering the treats into their designated oven—one of the few things she was actually allowed to do in the kitchen in regards to baking.

Even though Julie had been helping out at the bakery for nearly a year now, Alex still refused to let her or anyone else really help him with preparing pastries or other baked goods, unless they were cleaning up or moving trays in and out of ovens (and even that was a Julie Molina privilege, considering Reggie was the biggest klutz on Earth, and the one time he let Luke do it ended with a trip to the ER because the genius decided to grab the burning hot baking tray with his bare hands ).

It wasn’t necessarily about her lack of skills. In fact, Alex was pretty sure Julie knew how to bake a little already and he was certain she would pick up his know-how in no time if she wanted to. She seemed genuinely intrigued by the craft and while Alex often refused to admit it, he could certainly use an additional pair of hands in the kitchen on a day like this.

No, the problem lay elsewhere.

Baking was just too intimate. It was one thing to let Julie help out in the store but another to give her a clear passage straight to his heart. Every time Alex rolled up a piece of pastry into the perfect little croissant, every time he picked up a packet of flour or felt the heat of the oven graze over his cheeks, he saw his mother right there beside him.

His beautiful mother with her kind eyes and loving, supportive smiles that could light up the whole room. His mother, who would guide his hands whenever he felt lost or unsure, and who Alex would sometimes whisper to when he was certain he was alone. Quiet, one-sided conversations about everything and nothing that felt too familiar and made his heart ache, but ones he couldn’t let go.

It’s not you, it’s me.

Julie seemed to understand, though. She never pushed, never probed for more than Alex offered. She was patient and understanding and Alex was pretty sure she was an angel for that.

The oven door snapped shut and after a couple of seconds of watching the treats inside through the tiny window ( quality control, duh ), Julie turned back to Alex with a small smirk on her face.

“Sorry, boss, didn’t mean to scare you.”

The nickname made Alex audibly groan. Being an angel apparently didn’t prevent you from also being an annoying little shit.

“I’ll forgive you on the condition that you never call me that again,” he grumbled, receiving a grin and a mock salute from the younger girl in response before she grabbed a couple of freshly baked croissants to cut up and turn into breakfast sandwiches—one of their best selling items, courtesy of Julie Molina herself.

They worked in comfortable silence for a while, occasionally broken by Julie humming along to whatever song came up on the radio. While Alex finished up in the kitchen, Julie moved to the front of the store to wipe down the counter, as well as the three small tables near the window, and get the coffee machine ready for the morning rush.

By the time they finished, it was 7:01 and Merci was officially open and awaiting its first hungry, caffeine-deficient customers.

“So, what’s today’s special going to be? I’m not seeing anything fancy just yet,” Julie asked matter-of-factly as she made her way back into the kitchen to grab a couple of the pains au chocolats Alex had just taken out of the oven to put them out on display, making the baker stop dead in his tracks.

Today’s special.

Huh.

The thought hadn’t even crossed his mind that morning, too focused on getting everything ready in time and not falling asleep in the process. While Alex liked to change up the selection of pastries they offered every day (mainly because macarons were a pain in the ass to make and there was no way Alex was putting himself through that every single day), there were some items that were an every-day staple at Merci —croissants, rolls, quiches and tartelettes of all kinds and fillings were definitely included on that list and, among others, so was the special .

Something Alex dreamed up the night before or felt inspired to make on his way to work. Something he made up on the spot, no recipes or guides. He simply let his mind wander and every day, it created something new and exciting, something special . A habit he had unintentionally picked up from his mother, who used baking to express herself and her feelings. Alex still remembered the cake she made when they found out his grandmother passed away. Dark, heavy, and intense, with pieces of bitter chocolate, ginger and licorice.

It took him years to understand it tasted like grief .

Alex only realized he picked up this habit on the day he opened Merci  when he found himself preparing little profiterole cream puffs with tiny cat faces drawn in chocolate that were soft and fluffy just like Bonnie and tasted like pure comfort.

Alex made a special like that every single day. Except for this one, apparently.

“I, uh, I’m actually not sure. Nothing’s really coming to me if I’m being honest,” he finally said, sounding just as surprised as Julie looked. That was certainly a first.

She blinked up at him slowly, clearly still processing the information in her brain, before giving Alex a small smile.

“Well, maybe today’s special is that there is no special. That’s pretty… special,” Julie suggested, awkwardly, as she put a couple of the pastries on a platter to carry them over to the display cabinets.

“Yeah… yeah, no, totally. Maybe I’m just waiting for my muse to walk in,” Alex chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. Julie simply offered him another supportive smile before turning on her heel to get back behind the counter as the little bell above the door announced the arrival of their first customer of the day.

[beyondthecosmicvoid]

DUNE (2021) MOVIE REVIEW: THE SLEEPER HAS AWAKENED!

Everything you love from pop culture, including #StarWars, has been greately influenced by Frank Herbert's Dune saga. Continued by his son, Brian Herbert, and his co-author, Kevin J Anderson, the Dune universe spans many eons and storylines that all mash up together to give a complex storyline that at the center of it, remains timeless. It is the struggle to free the mind, the ties that binds us across time and space to family, culture and the sense of finding ourselves in an ever changing landscape. When you read the saga, especially the original saga started by Frank Herbert, you don't feel like you are reading a space opera but rather a historical tale. Something that has been persevered thanks to the voice of history and the cruel efforts of one family against the sands of time. Frank Herbert, inspired by Isaac Asimov's FOUNDATION saga (of which an adaptation has also been made, albeit it is as a series for the streaming platform Apple +), understood the importance of ancestral memory or rather history. If we are to move forward, we have to take into account the past. But more than that, we have to be careful how we choose to remember and who we choose to follow.

*SPOILERS* (Thou Have been Warned!)

The film comprises only the first half of the first book. As such, we don't get to see Paul fighting Feyd or meeting Princess Irulan to force her into marriage to solidify his future bloody imperial reign. Paul does come to be self-aware near the end of this film, but he's also terrified by what he knows he must do in order to save humanity from extinction and into the golden path. In the books, we get a better sense into his psyche. This being a visual medium, the director did a good job highlighting this via the acting of Timothee Chalamet and his visions.I was worried that the film would not be opening like the eponymous book with Irulan's narration; yet, this slight distortion ended up working to better get a sense of where the Fremen are coming from and what lays ahead for Paul. Chani's role is a big one in future books and determines his cowardice and cruelty to their future children and his neglected wife, Princess Irulan (the daughter of the Padisah Emperor Shaddam IV he will end up deposing and exiling). Though the latter aforementioned characters are not seen here, they are referenced in subtle ways which leaves the door open for a better understanding of when they are finally introduced in part 2.

That aside, the film is a visual spectacle. It is a masterpiece.Though there are not ETs here, everything feels alien. Humanity has moved beyond the confines of our solar system. The imperium is similar to other empires in our history, but it also feels like something completely different. Despite the other similarities between feudalism and the way the Houses are structred, this is not a space feudalism. It is something else. And this feeling is exactly what one feels when reading the books. It feels familiar but also something completely detached from our reality. We are meant to be part of the ride, but not meant to be fully integrated into this new universe of evolutionary wonders and horrors. Humanity has moved past A.I. In its stead, they have splintered into different factions, all under the rule of the Imperium. Some humans seem no different than their ancestors on earth from more than ten thousand years ago, but others might as well be classified as alien because they have modified themselves to such an extent that they are almost a separate species. At the center of it all, is the one substance that powers the entire universe: the spice melange. Found in only one planet in the known universe: Arrakis (also known as Dune), everyone fights for control of this precious substance. He who controls the spice controls the universe.Beyond extending life, persevering youth, opening consciousness and allowing other super-human abilities, the spice has helped humanity stay away from the temptation of falling prey to technological curiosity and dependence. But there are one group of humans who have claimed the desert of Arrakis as their own despite not being native to the planet. These are called the Fremen. Originally, they formed part of the humans who fought the machines in the last machine war or Butlerian Jihad. They settled on Arrakis and called themselves the Free Men. Through time, they formed an enclave which grew until becoming the Fremen we see in the film. Their religion is a mixture of Zen Buddhism and Islam, with tinges of the ever more complicated mixture of Abrahamic religions and other religious philosophies found in the OCB (the Orange Catholic Bible, which has become the new official bible by the ruling houses). Though this is not explicitly mentioned in the movie, enough hints are dropped here for viewers to know and find out more about the underlying religious and philosophical currents in this universe. What these rebels don't know though is that the prophecy of their messiah is nothing more than religious engineering by the powerful sisterhood known as the Bene Gesserit. Insidious and extremely dangerous, this religious organization does what it can for power. Although they want to save humanity from future extinction, at the end of the day, they want power and believe that the super human messiah they have long been awaiting for will be theirs to control. But as what happens with every human calculation: something goes wrong.This is where Paul Atreides comes in.

He's the Dune Messiah, the Kwisatz Haderach, the prophesized savior of the Fremen, the Muad'Dib, and future savior of humanity. He is also part of a carefully engineered genetic planning by the Bene Gesserit. His mother, a Bene Gesserit herself, has worked in tandem with the Sisterhood to orchestrate this. However, the calculations were disrupted by Lady Jessica (Paul's mother) decision to fall in love with the Duke Leto of House Atreides and give him a son rather than a daughter. The Bene Gesserit in their infinite wisdom and conniving nature, have been in charge of mixing bloodlines for thousands of years until their end result. To achieve their ultimate power, the last move on the chessboard would depend on the daughter Lady Jessica would give Duke Leto. This daughter would be given in marriage to a Harkonnen (the Atreides' main enemy) heir and the result be a Kwisatz Haderach which, with the support of both Houses, overthrow the Padisha Empire, declare himself Emperor and thorugh him, the Bene Gesserit would rule and bring forth the Golden Path. But Lady Jessica chose love over duty. It is this simple choice which upset their plans, but also set in motion a crueler fate in order to achieve this "Golden Path". Paul comes to find this out near the end of the movie and resents his mother for this. Yet, he realizes that he has no other option but to do what was meant of the Kwisatz Haderach in order to save himself and his loved ones. The Dune Movie does a good job in showing all of this. Hopefully this will lead people to become more interested in this world and the historical and philosophical influences which inspired Frank Herbert to write his space opera. This, along with Isaac Asimov's Foundation, is the original Star Wars. But while in Star Wars, the alien worlds and species still feel human, here, set tens of thousands of years into the future, the world feels more alien. It is more grounded in scifi, while still being relatable because of the timeless conflicts that have plagued mankind since its creation.

When Paul "awakens", it is not only he who does but the rest of us as well.

If I were to have a concern it’d be that Irulan’s role is minimized in future adaptations. She is an extremely important part in the saga. The old saying that the “pen is mightier than the sword” is demonstrated through her. While it’s through the fanatical hordes of Fremen’s crysknives and their religious fervor which places the galaxy into submission, as well as the near-omniscience of the God Emperor Leto II (Paul’s son) that the Known Universe is pushed towards the Golden Path, none of this could have been possible without the eloquence and intellectual curiosity of Princess Irulan. Princess Irulan is everything we dream in a historian. Despite being uncomfortable in her own skin, being mistreated by Paul and suspected by the rest, she quickly redeems herself by taking on the task of raising her twin stepchildren and preserving knowledge for future generations. If the next sequels are to continue being masterpieces and represent the importance of history, they need to expand on Irulan’s role as they have already pledged they will do on Paul’s love interest, Chani. The second novel (DUNE MESSIAH) does a good job expanding her role. The director has stated that he plans to add more dimension to her character other than being a love interest of Paul. This was good to hear. However, I hope this doesn’t fall into the common old Victorian trope of elevating one female character at the expense of the other. This would be detrimental and contrary to the intention of what the director’s claims and what Herbert intended in the first place.

With this being said, I hope things go well and we get to see more of the marvelous worlds that the known universe in Dune has yet to offer us in future sequels, and does justice to all the characters. If that is so, then let the spice flow!

[innocencelives]

im still an athiest and vehemently opposed to religion as a whole. but i think i wrongly associated so much of my abuse with the rich jewish culture i grew up with. i was known in my family as being like…jewish anti-semitic bc i hated my upbringing and my school so much and just wanted to get out of it into the real world. but now ive lived away from my family for a while, not doing anything jewish or interacting with jews or anything for years and, i think im experiencing a change of heart. im not gonna start praying or believing in god or going to shul or anything, but. idk there is so so much culture and tradition and history i grew up surrounded by that i feel connected to now, so much more than i was as a kid. its a part of me ya know? and instead of associating it with experiencing abuse, i now associate it with the opposite, persevering through it. bc isnt that what it means to be jewish? surviving adversity, surviving trauma, staying true to who you are despite a cold and cruel world. i think alot these days about my zeide who survived the holocaust. on one hand, he most likely abused my dad who abused me. but he, really did the impossible. he lost so much, he experienced the most cruel atrocities possible, he saw people die everyday and was left for dead before he was saved. and after all that he came to america and thrived, created this amazing business and made a family. i feel a connection with him, i think we both survived so much. and i hope i have his resilience within me.

[aph1wonderland]

Kay of Haru

(Melee Whip, Polearm/ Hydro/ 4 star)

Birthday: 1/11

Personality: "Kay is known for being a motherly figure in the Adventuring guild and rest of Liyue. However her roots are not grown in Liyue, but however in Inazuma. Best person to ask for charity and perhaps known to be around Zhongli's confidant, considering her curiosity of the world thrives from him.”

Constellation: Syreni

Introduction: Hello nice to meet you dear traveler, I am Kay of Haru. Please just call me Kay and do not hesitate and ask me for anything. I’m willing to help you the best I can.

Good morning: Dear Traveler it’s time to wake up and start the day feeling energized! I got nice warm breakfast ready for you and Paimon, don’t want that to become cold. Now would you?

Good afternoon: It’s time to take a break for lunch, don’t worry Paimon I got some for you too.

Good evening: Hm I think we should set camp soon, it’s getting dark soon dear Traveler. Don’t forget to start the fire.

Good night: Traveler you must rest. Staying up late for someone as young as you must keep their life balance. Who knows when you’ll find yourself knocked out in battle out of no where.

Chat- Operation: Are you alright dear traveler, I wouldn’t mind carrying you if you ask for it. It’s nothing to get embarrassed about. All you need to do is ask.

Chat- I hope Mister Zhongli is doing alright. I do worry a lot about him. But I know he can take care of himself. I hope I didn’t forget anything!

Interesting things- I wonder if I make plush dolls out of those wool from those sheep’s if we pass by them. Maybe we could make one in Paimon’s image? Oh how cute that could be, perhaps it’ll improve your comfort in rest.

Embarrassing things: You know when I first started to settled in Liyue.. I perhaps felt embarrassed or perhaps flustered to look at the Rex Lapis Statues of Liyue.. I-it’s not like I haven’t seen a male body, considering training for my brothers in the past. I had to patch them up to be men.. What I’m trying to say, it just feels different if it’s another man outside of the family.

About us- Dear Traveler, I’m curious if the places, perhaps worlds you’ve been. It must have been dangerous or even exciting to find new discoveries. Differences between you and me are vast, I do wish for you the best of luck in your journey. No matter how long and treacherous, my loyalty to you is unbound. So don’t give up so easily! You’ll meet them soon, I just know it!

About Zhongli- Mister Zhongli is pretty tall, perhaps even taller than men in my hometown and some in Liyue. He likes talking about Liyue, honestly the most fun I had when I arrived here. That man is an old soul no doubt, perhaps if Zhongli ever thinks of writing his knowledge he knows about Liyue. He could earn back mora atleast, his words of wisdom about this country is worth wealth. To me or to anyone who takes advice into consideration, from experience as a guide. But as always I wouldn’t mind gifting him food sometimes if he allows me without asking what I want in return. Please don’t give me Mora, keep it for yourself. If he was persistent enough to for an equivalent in contracts he speaks so highly of, spending time with him is my only excuse. Anything farther is his old stories of Liyue.

About Childe- I’m worried, he seems nice when he talks sometimes. Perhaps even generous.. However, I do not know well enough about Snezhnaya’s current state of affairs. But I know the Fatuis recruits are rumored to coming from there.. His family sounds nice to have a brother like him. Sadly he feels like like I’m standing near a cryo user, he does has his moments atleast. I feel like I’m opposed from him. He’s a good brother and I am nothing close to that.

About Xiangling- Shes adorable! Ohh she’s greatest at helping me cook when either of us decide to visit each other. She’s creative and bright Child for age. She’ll take on the world of taste by storm, the wild fire, as long as you don’t eat too much Jueyun chili. The uses of them from her is uncanny, maybe she’ll bring new ideas to me next time I see her.

About few characters in Liyue- I never thought I’ll meet them sometimes and there it is. I heard a lot things people from Mister Zhongli. Perhaps I rely him abit too much even a man like him could struggle in socializing without quipping at few improvements. He’s right about Liyue being beautiful, rich in people. That’s what I like about humanity, however I cannot ignore the fact there is dark side to anything.

About Mondstadt- Oh my! Perhaps you could tell me how was Mondstadt!? I really haven’t been farther than my home in Liyue, comparing my childhood of Inazuma.. Considering only knowledgeable people around that region closest to me is Merchants and Mister Zhongli.

About the Rite of Descension- I never fully participated it, mostly because I tend to keep myself busy to stay around. For someone who has lived in Liyue I may sound like a workaholic hermit, but Mister Zhongli always makes it sound intresting.. I tend to keep my garden and Mister Zhongli healthy at least. Well Childe now too, I think he’s happy he don’t have to spend much each day on Mister Zhongli.

More about Kay I- I fear for the state of Inazuma, I just heard recently dear traveler. My fear for meeting my parents by a glance is enough to bring me to my knees. I love my mother, not for who she is but who the part she tries to teach me that there is hardships in life. My father is not loved by me nor my mother in the end, he is a terrifying feature of a man.

More of Kay II- My mother is a feeble woman, she is broken from a warrior spirit to a eternity to my father. I want to break that Clan’s cycle. She doesn’t deserve to be tormented with a daughter who doesn’t want to be part it. My Clan specializes in bridal arrangements. I am a failed part of one them. Because I ran, these arrangements in my eyes are empty but heavy in mora and possibly tears along the way.

More of Kay III- Oh, you’re curious about the Clan’s traditions? They raise their daughters and sons to sold into arrangements pieces for wealth social status and we are perfected to do our part. Be the perfect wife and husband to our chosen partners. I am a terrible person to abandon my siblings. I couldn’t help them.. I am a coward.

More of Kay IV- I hope they’re doing well... I hope. I know it’s difficult to see the sky so clear, the moon is something feels like a cryo vision. The chill I worry about that feeling, it’s nips you when you feel lonely. Maybe I should cover up more next time. I wish I had my haori, I miss the smell of flowers I planted when I was younger.. Maybe I should start growing some and ask- Wait should I even try?

More of Kay V- Cooking and Learning both a heavy burden but something I love. For its all I know from my family, but the happiness from my older siblings are worth the price time could take from me. Feeling like this should be brought to those who show compassion and willing to open up to the truth no matter how bitter it tastes.

Kay’s Hobbies’- I like to learn, cook and clean! Oh it might sound dull of me to say. I do like gardening and spending time with you then! Simple things in life is better when time is on your side. Sleeping in the Sunny shade under the tree is nice.

Kay’s Troubles- I heard you met someone who seems to be from Izazuma. Remembering that place feels constricting around  my heart. However your will.. I’m jealous how courageous and persevering you can be! Go go traveler! You can do it! Don’t give up so soon! Oh right.. Mister Zhongli.. I’m possibly too reliant on his knowledge like how people are to Rex Lapis..

Birthday- Happy Birthday Dear and Beloved Traveler! Do you need anything to eat? I can make anything you want, don’t hesitate to be greedy. You’re still getting stronger each passing day I wish you luck continuing on your travels!

Dislike food- Eternity feels nauseous in word and how it’s defined. Oh foods? I’m not really picky. I wouldn’t mind helping you learn how to cook. Oh my that’s a lot of things we shouldn’t waste..

Likes- Comfort is a lovely feeling, I wish I could help you feel the same. Perhaps I could treat you my recent findings with Xiangling.

When it rains- I have an umbrella just incase. Here Traveler! You mustn’t get sick, you have someone waiting for you.

Sunny- Ah, feel the warmth of the sun. Hope the best on a good day!

Feelings about Ascension- Intro= Hmm. Will I be stronger, perhaps with you I can.

Building up= What a strange feeling. Perhaps you are the reason I feel different?

Climax= I won’t let your efforts go to waste! Let’s not lose our sights on the goal!

Conclusion= Comfort is a difficult price to earn, as for peace of mind is silent but deadly at heart for those to aspire to reach the heart of it all.

[jessgartner]

2020 Life Olympics

The real Olympics may have been canceled in 2020 but the Life Olympics persevered like the postal service of Olympics. 

First, I’d like to apologize for my role in the chaos of 2020 because I think I had a slight miscommunication with the powers that be and I feel partly responsible. Here was my plan for 2020: 

My theme for 2020 is Intention because I want to take the energy I feel right now and deploy it with more intentionality next year - bringing increased mindfulness to how I spend my time, money, physical and mental energy. And because I love wordplay, I also literally want to spend more time camping “in-tent” to enjoy more peace and quiet and beauty in nature.

The universe was like, “Oh, she wants to spend less money and more time outside? Well, shut it down. Shut the whole planet down.”

I mean, mission accomplished, I guess? I did spend less money and more time outside and had to be VERY intentional with my mental energy to survive the day-to-day morass of 2020. Next time, I will be more specific with my annual manifestations. Sorry to all. 

2020 was brutal for pretty much everything and everyone. I don’t know anyone who isn’t in some state of grief right now, including myself. I debated doing a Life Olympics at all this year, feeling like-- what is the point? Hundreds of thousands of people died, our democracy is hanging on by a thread, and millions of people lost jobs, businesses, and homes. 

Like many people, I’ve been struggling with anxiety and depression this year which intensified as it got darker and colder outside. At a low point, I talked with my therapist about the struggle of just not wanting to do any of the things that usually bring me joy-- and how periods of relief were so fleeting. “But you have to keep doing those things,” she said, “even if they’re not working right now, you have to keep doing those things and trust the process; the joy will return.” 

So even though I don’t really feel like it and kind of feel like it’s dumb, I’m writing the 2020 Life Olympics. I’m trusting the process.

2020 Life Olympics Recap

Work - Participation Trophy

Starting a company is hard, operating a company is harder, but running a company during a global pandemic and economic crisis is something I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. 2020 was not a fun year to lead a business; it was hell. On March 15, the plan for the year pretty much went out the window and everything went into survival mode. I never take the company or my team for granted, but I’m particularly grateful to be able to usher this work into 2021.

Despite the craziness, we still had some big wins this year. We launched new product partnerships with PowerSchool and Amazon Business. We rebuilt our tool for equitably calculating district funding formulas. And I got to flex my creative muscles with EdFinToks! Throughout it all, I was lucky enough to be surrounded by a team of people who are as compassionate as they are talented. 

I’m worried about public education more than ever after this year, but I’m going to keep fighting every day to make it work better for kids. 

This is Work-Lite but I also spent a good chunk of time this year leading the modernization workgroup for Bill Henry’s transition committee after his spring primary election to become the new Baltimore City Comptroller, ousting a 25-year incumbent, Joan Pratt. This was an enlightening (and infuriating) experience for me that gave me a glimpse into the operations of a segment of the City government. This process also really helped crystallize how much I enjoy making public agencies function more efficiently; I’m excited to see what Bill does with the recommendations (some are already being put in action!)

Health - Gold 

This is the second year in a row (and ever) that I’m giving myself a Gold medal for Health. This was easily a year that I could have regressed on all of my healthy habits and no one would have blamed me. Instead, I leaned into protecting and improving my physical and mental health in 2020. It’s not an exaggeration to say that walking probably saved my life this year. I spent a lot of time walking around my neighborhood and various state and city parks-- walking is maybe not the best word; I stomp and charge around like I have a score to settle with the ground beneath me. My walking increased 370% in 2020. This is a habit of 2020 that I’d like to keep. My brain and body are happier if I can spend a little time walking-- stomping-- around outside each day. 

I also did a lot of biking this summer. My cycling increased 200% this year-- with much more time spent cycling outdoors. My crowning achievement this year was biking to and from Annapolis:

I spent a LOT more time outside this year which was critical for my mental health. On the downside, I only did 90% as much yoga and 60% as much strength training, so I want to try to be a little more balanced next year. 

I also invested a lot in my mental health this year. I kept up with therapy every 2-4 weeks and in October I decided to pursue a formal diagnosis for ADHD which I definitely have! Needless to say, staying in one place this year has been a special kind of hell for me. 

Home - Silver

Well, I definitely spent less money this year. And the way I did spend money made me (mostly) sad: 

Travel down 70% 

Auto & Transportation up 200% (boo cars)

Shopping down 60%

Personal Care down 35% 

Gifts and donations up 200% 

Food and Dining down 40%

Entertainment down 35% (I kept up my singing lessons virtually which accounts for a lot of this category) 

2020 was quite the palate cleanser from my 2019 year of hedonism but maybe we can go for a happy medium in 2021? Just kidding-- I will resume my hedonist ways the minute the world opens. 

I also redid my home office like every other work-from-homer on the planet and replaced my crumbling kitchen floor so the house got some TLC. 

But nobody enjoyed having me home all year as much as Darwin:

Relationships - Bronze

What a weird year for relationships of all kinds. I’m giving this a Bronze because while I invested a lot into a few relationships this year, there are also a lot of people in my life to whom I haven’t been able to give my time and love. 

One of the most important relationships in my life this year was with one of my former students. After bouncing around in the foster system for many years, we reconnected around the holidays in 2019 and he started crashing with me while we tried to figure out stable housing and employment. He was arrested in January and was incarcerated for the next several months awaiting trial. Finally, we were able to negotiate a plea agreement with the State’s Attorney and he came home around Independence Day. We spent the next several months getting him set up with a phone and various identification documents-- a nightmare in normal times and a total abyss during the pandemic. I got him registered to vote when we got his ID card and I took him to vote for the first time (a supreme treat for this former social studies teacher):

He’s now got a full-time job and stable living situation. Calling this THE success of 2020. Thank you to everyone who helped me with resources all year for housing, legal processes, and documents. It takes a village. 

It was a bizarre year for family. We lost my grandmother in September, so not being able to spend the holidays together felt like an especially cruel loss. Other big losses this year include a trip to France to celebrate a milestone birthday for my mother and my brother and sister-in-law’s wedding (Mosby seemed pretty ok with the alternative plan, though):

But in many ways, my family has been more together than ever this year thanks to prolific group chats and photo-sharing. Mostly, I’m just glad everyone else is safe and healthy. As my father often reminds me, “Our problems are small.” 

And dating? What to do with this weird Jane-Austen-esque dating scene-- as if modern dating weren’t fraught enough. Is this the universe punishing me for ending my 2019 dating hiatus early? I, for one, have given up. You win this one, pandemic. I’m just going to have my little Twitter crush and call it a year. Next year, though...

Horizons - Silver Gold 

You know what? It’s hard to expand your horizons without people or places. 

I did the best I could. I finally got back on track with my Goodreads challenge and actually had a really good year of reading, including finally embracing audiobooks through my Libro.fm subscriptions. I especially enjoyed Michelle Obama’s book Becoming and Mike Birbiglia’s The New One on audio-- both narrated by their authors. 

I camped in Pocomoke (MD), Western MD, Lake Michigan, and Ohiopyle (PA):

I explored over 30 new hiking/biking trails-- some favorites including the Youghiegheny River trail in PA, the NCR trail, Catoctin Mountain, the C&O Canal Towpath, Annapolis Rock, and of course, Stoney Run in my backyard. 

I left Facebook and started the Life Olympics newsletter. I’ll be honest, I don’t miss Facebook but I also don’t understand where that energy, time, and brain space went. I was spending cumulatively hours a day mindlessly scrolling Facebook and I quit cold turkey and barely noticed-- what black hole of our brains does social media occupy? I kind of thought that with all that extra time I would write the next great American novel or something. I’m probably spending a little more time on Twitter, which I could stand to cut back on. Other than that, I think I was just trying to process the shitstorm of this year. Maybe I’ll write the next great American novel post-pandemic. 

For the first time in my life, I feel somewhat ‘caught up’ on pop-culture. I finally watched Parks and Recreation (twice); I watched The Mandalorian and finally actually watched Star Wars (episodes IV-IX); I watched the final seasons of The Good Place and Schitt’s Creek; I’m caught up on Insecure; I watched The Prom and Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom and Jingle Jangle; I even started Bridgerton. I know what everyone is talking about and I’m catching so many more pop-culture references these days. (I guess instead of writing the next great American novel I watched Netflix?)

2020 Lessons

I’ve spent plenty of time mourning the missed opportunities of 2020 and will probably always wonder what this year could have been in an alternate universe with a functioning government. But we only have this reality for now, and we made the best of it. 

I wanted to slow down in 2020, try to be more intentional, more mindful, and...

No thank you! I liked the pace of my life; it makes my brain and heart happy. I’m happiest when I wake up in a different city three days in a row. I like darting around every borough of Manhattan for nine meetings and three cocktails and then taking a red-eye to Europe. I want to run around to eight conferences for 18-hours a day for three weeks and then sleep for 22 hours. I miss overloading my brain so much that I need a deprivation chamber to sleep. This is who I am. This is how I like to live. And when I was locked down alone in the house for a year, slowing down, being mindful, I never once thought, “I should have... when I had the chance.” Because I always did. And I always will. 

2021

We shake with joy, we shake with grief.

What a time they have, these two housed as they are in the same body.

Mary Oliver

We’ve had enough grief. 2021 is going to be all about joy.

Universe, let me be clear: this is not a euphemism or code or secret signal.

I want pure, unadulterated, abundant, joy. I want multi-course dinners in restaurants with lots of close friends and good wine. I want the virus so far gone that I can make-out with handsome strangers. I want a rollicking good time in France and/or Brazil and/or Prague and/or New Zealand and/or Bali. I want to spend the day after Christmas in NYC with my father. I want to be a glutton for theatre and art and music. I want celebrations and parties and sequins. 

I want to shake with joy. 

If you’d like to receive the (shorter) monthly Life Olympics, subscribe here. 

[xadoheandterra]

Series: Semblance Title: Patriciate Fandom: Jak and Daxter Chapters: I | II | III | IV | V | VI | VII | VIII | IX | X | XI | XII | XIII | XIV | XV | XVI | XVII Characters: Jak, Daxter, Samos, Keira, Kid!Jak, Ashelin, Torn, Tess Tags: Worldbuilding, Accidentally King of Haven!Jak, hurt/comfort, things go wrong, things get better, things get worse again, slow build, slow burn, slow to update, cross posted, fantasy racism, canon divergence, been meaning to share this here Summary: “It’s yours,” Jak said softly. “Keep it…remember where you come from. At least one of us should remember….”

If Jak knew the consequences of that one, selfish choice…well, he’d probably have made the same decision either way.

Jak forgot something kind of important. At least it gave Torn time enough to get him presentable.

Daxter ducked between legs and strangers alike, scurrying along the ground on all four paws. He dashed quick from the port and used all of the little known side alleys that only three years in Haven could teach an ottsel. Two of those three years he’d worked hard to unearth and learn the layout by himself despite Haven’s insane size. It’d taken him the better part of the first year to just learn how to traverse the city at barely two feet tall; after all the distance Jak could travel at a dead run in an hour Daxter could barely achieve in three.

And he wants this damn thing pronto, Daxter grimaced to himself. Really buddy? It ain’t easy getting’ around by myself and it ain’t like I could ask anyone! I can’t even jack a damn zoomer, sheesh.

Sometimes Daxter felt like Jak could be so inconsiderate, taking his willingness to help a pal out for granted. Still Daxter persevered, and yeah maybe he realized after he’d finally reached the beginning of Main Town that he could’ve asked Tess for a ride but damn if Daxter weren’t determined to do this one his own by that point. Even still Daxter had a limit, and one that rapidly began to approach given how much his chest burned and his legs and arms hurt.

Jak’s just gonna hafta deal with me bein’ a bit late, Daxter reasoned to himself. I’ll make it up t’him later. He skittered to a halt over by the nearest bridge. His chest heaved as he flopped down against one of the rails supports, the small backpack that Tess had scrounged up for him to carry the key in thunked heavily against the ground. Exhaustedly Daxter brushed along the fringe of what would have once been his bangs to wipe away the sweat that had gathered. He grimaced at the feel of slick fur and resisted the urge to growl out of annoyance.

Sometimes he really hated being an Ottsel. The fur and two feet tall were prime reasons to resent the transformation, no matter how used to it he’d gotten. Daxter puffed out a breath and pressed his head back against the rail and closed his eyes.

“Ugh, why s’it gotta be so far?” Daxter grumbled to himself bitterly. He didn’t see the glances from the others who meandered around Main Town, going about their business, but he knew they were there. He’d gotten stares like that all the time, although the ones that he and Jak got together where by far the most hilarious of the lot.

“I think I found him.”

“Really? That small thing?”

“Well Commander Torn did say an orange rat, right?”

“I thought he was joking.”

Daxter opened one eye to look for the voices the minute he heard ‘Torn,’ a snarl on his lips. He wasn’t a rat Precursors damn it all! His gaze found a small trio of slightly armored teens that he vaguely recognized from the few times he and Jak spent more than a night at the Underground barracks.

“Oi!” Daxter yelled. He jumped to his feet, quite suddenly energized, hands on his hips. “It’s ottsel. O! T! T! S! E! L! Get it right, ya jerks!”

The three teens turned and shared a look before they seemed to nod in agreement. One of them approached and Daxter noted he wore some sort of half-KG mask. He vaguely remembered Tess had mentioned something about the Underground’s members were now forced to be recognizable since the metal head invasion.

“You Daxter?” the one on the left said. Her voice rang with the tinny quality that Daxter associated with the KG.

“Ya work for the Tattooed Wonder?” Daxter shot back, eyes narrowed and lips pulled down.

“Yeah it’s definitely him,” the one on the right said. He shot a side glance to the girl. The one in the middle, closest to Daxter, snorted disdainfully.

“This job sucks,” the middle one grumbled and turned his gaze away from Daxter to look instead at his companions. The one on the right’s eyes crinkled in the amused way and the one on the left looked like she was hiding a smile under that mask.

“What job? Searchin’ out the good ol’ Orange Lightning?” Daxter didn’t quite leer, but he did drawl out the words. At least two of them seemed decent.

The girl on the left laughed. “Definitely him. Come on, orange lightning. Commander Torn’s asked us to pick you up.”

“Said something about it taking too long,” the one on the right said.

“I still don’t get why we’re stuck with carrying this pet,” the middle one huffed.

“You can carry me anytime you like, gorgeous,” Daxter winked to the girl, who laughed good naturedly with the guy on the left while the middle one growled. “I’ve been lookin’ for a cute ride like you. I got one mean delivery I gotta get over pronto, y’know?”

“I might have heard,” she replied as she reached out a hand for Daxter. He quickly scurried over and then up her arm and onto her shoulder. “Damn is this what it feels like to be him?” she said almost reverently.

“All th’ time, babe,” Daxter nodded. “Now c’mon! I’ve wasted enough time huffin’ it by myself. Ol’ gravelly shoulda sent someone sooner.”

“We should just shoot it,” the middle one hissed.

“Aw, I like you too grumpy!” Daxter cooed back, face twisted into a sickly sweet grin.

“I’m gonna shoot it,” ‘grumpy’ snapped and reached for his gun.

The one on the right grasped his wrist before he could do anything and hissed, “Do you want to get on Commander Torn’s bad side?”

“But it’s annoying.”

“It,” Daxter said sharply, “is a he, and he happens to be the one who saved all your asses with his trusty sidekick Jak who just happens to be his best fuckin’ friend and can, y’know, get growly.”

Grumpy swallowed heavily and backed off at the look he received from his two partners.

“Told you,” the one on the right mumbled. “Bad idea, man.”

“Yeah,” Daxter agreed. “Listen to your conscience over here.”

“Fuck you,” grumpy spat.

‘Conscience,’ snorted a laugh in response.

“Funny,” Daxter’s current shoulder seat laughed softly. “Come on, we best hurry. We’re gathering a crowd.”

Grumpy and conscience exchanged glances, paled, and quickly began ushering their female compatriot onwards.

“Weren’t we supposed to not draw a crowd?” conscience uttered.

“Your fault,” grumpy spat.

“Oh hush,” Daxter interrupted, “and get movin’!”

All three started to run at that. Daxter relaxed against the gentle lull of a shoulder at full run, a wide grin across his face. Now he’d get there in a decent amount of time. He’d have to thank the Tattooed Wonder for giving him such a lovely ride, too. Daxter paused, then frowned, then wanted to cry at the realization he actually had to thank the asshole who called him a rat.

Torn stared at his communicator in faint horror, although Jak figured a good majority of that actually was for show. Torn had to be acutely aware of how uncomfortable this entire situation made the teen, give that Jak practically gouged his legs throughout a good chunk of the process. The act did serve to put Jak into a more comfortable mindset, comfortable enough that his eyes were black with dark eco—just tinged purple instead. His skin looked a bit paler than normal, but that could be associated to nerves rather than eco.

“Why is your rat insisting on riding one of my men up the elevator?” Torn’s voice practically squeaked at the end he wheezed so hard.

Jak scrubbed a hand through his now groomed, wrapped, and braided hair. It hung in twisted, braided dreadlocks that suited the young teen and at the same time felt like a punch to the gut. If Torn didn’t know that Jak happened to be the young kid he’d once looked after—and thus had to be related to the late King Damas—then the resemblance sure as hell would have told him as much. Granted Damas never did quite wear the locks as well as Jak could.

“Mar you have to have some Wastlander in you,” Torn muttered as he flopped onto the couch.

“What does that mean?” Jak blinked at the sudden non-sequitor.

“Your hair,” Torn waved a hand. “No Havenite can wear it like that so easily. You see it more on Wastelander’s than anything.”

Jak’s brow furrowed in confusion, but before he could get a word in about it Torn shifted and spoke up again.

“Seriously though what does that rodent think he’s doing anyway? He could put her at risk!”

“His name is Daxter,” Jak pointed out, “and he’s probably exhausted. I forgot how far Main Town is from the bar.” Jak leaned forward from his spot on the bed and scrubbed at his face. “He’s probably pissed about that. I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“Do you like him nagging you or something?” Torn quarried. When Jak didn’t answer at first the commander shifted to stare at the teen, concerned.

Jak sighed. “…sort of.” He licked his lips. “It’s…I didn’t speak for a long time, Torn. Dax talking…it’s normal.” He smiled fondly. “He spoke for the both of us.”

“He still does,” Torn grumbled.

“Yeah.”

Despite being an ottsel Daxter at his core didn’t change. Jak relished in that, relished in how much his friend still remained his friend because damn if he didn’t regret that accident so much. He opened his mouth to speak some more when a sharp rap at the door sounded throughout the room. Torn got to his feet and Jak likewise pulled himself up.

They shared a glance—looks like it was showtime. Jak got to his feet, Torn shortly behind him. Jak wanted to get the door, but Torn motioned for him to stay—they’d gone over, repeatedly, in the wait for Daxter to show up and in the time that Torn worked on his hair, how the people around Jak were expected to act. How Jak would be expected to act. While it sat wrong with him to hang back, he still let Torn take the lead and open the door.

This whole insane plane hinged on Jak, after all, and if he didn’t show the right response at the right time then any credibility as being the last heir to the House of Mar wouldn’t matter. It grated to act like some damned nobleman when first and foremost Jak was anything but; still he waited, anxiously as evidenced by the slight shift from foot to foot. Torn slipped the door open, took one look out into the hallway, and sighed in relief.

“Ashelin,” Torn greeted sharply, and stepped back.

“Commander,” Ashelin responded in kind. She stepped into the room first, behind her followed an Underground fighter with Daxter perched precariously on her shoulder. Jak zeroed in on his best friend, and a small nervous smile flittered across his face.

No one said anything at first, or at least no one but Daxter and Jak. Jak’s little twitches—almost completely unnoticeable—clued Daxter into the bigger picture within a minute. The conversation went on much longer than that though, with an ever growing darker expression on Daxter’s face. The ottsel glanced between Jak, Torn, and Ashelin with a scowl until Ashelin couldn’t take it anymore.

“What!?” the young Praxis heiress snapped out. She looked to Torn for back up, but Torn refused to respond. He’d seen the silent communication in action too much to even attempt to counteract it.

“Nothin’,” Daxter said eventually after a pleading look from Jak and a slightly pulled face. “We’ve got a show to get on the road, right?”

“What do you mean we?” Ashelin demanded. “You were just delivery—”

“I ain’t leavin’ Jak to deal with just you,” Daxter shot back, “and my ride here ain’t either. We’re both goin’ an’ you’ll just hafta deal there princess. You roped Jak into this thing and ya better handle the consequences. We’re a pair an’ that is that.”

Jak smiled.

“Dax’s always had my back, Ashelin,” he said softly. “Besides, as I understand it if I just walk in with the Ruby Key they’re going to demand how a priceless artifact integral to this city’s history just so happened to disappear and then reappear with the House of Mar.”

Torn smiled, and nodded once in approval when Jak glanced his way. He spoke up to catch Ashelin’s attention. “Look at that Ashe, the kid has a knack for this,” he teased for a second before he added seriously, “He has a point and you know it. Especially when you know it was this very council that ousted the last King we had.”

“That was my father—” Ashelin counteracted, only to be cut off with a look.

“It might have been your father,” Torn said carefully, “but even your father can’t intimidate the other sage lines. At least three quarters of them had to be in agreement. Not to mention the other minor noble houses.”

Ashelin bit her lip, frustrated, but she had to admit Torn was right. Although neither of them had been there for the original banishment of the House of Mar, they both knew the aftermath intimately enough. Still—Ashelin turned toward Daxter and with a sharp look assessed the situation.

“You can’t just waltz in with the Ruby Key, either,” Ashelin pointed out. “You’re too involved with Jak.”

“Ah, but I’m involved officially as of this past year,” Daxter pointed out slyly. Jak didn’t bother to fight down his smile as Ashelin blinked in slight surprise and Daxter continued barreling on, head held high. “In fact I was quite the respected bug hunter up until the business went up in smoke; I merely stumbled across this here puppy,” Daxter patted his bag, “without knowin’ what it was. I’m just a poor ottsel—we’re not taught Haven’s history.”

“If anything Dax only realized what the Ruby Key was after he and I got involved,” Jak added softly, and completely convincingly. Any protest left Ashelin.

Torn glanced at them, then asked, “How will you explain your closeness?”

“How do you explain a soul brother?” Daxter shot back full of complete self-confidence.

“We click,” Jak shrugged, and it was the honest truth—he and Daxter had always just clicked like that.

Torn appraised them for a second more—and almost let out an amused snort when he realized the soldier before him was still star-struck and drooling; kids these days—before he nodded sharply. He turned to Ashelin and said, “They’re good.”

Ashelin looked ready to protest, so Torn stepped up to her and grabbed her shoulders. “They’re good, Ashe,” he said sharply. “Trust me.” It took a second longer before Ashelin let out an explosive breath. They’d wasted enough time already on this whole mess, and so with a sharp turn she motioned for the group to follow.

“Look alive soldier,” Torn said under his breath to the young girl. She jerked, flushed, and then straightened her back and fell into step just behind Jak.