#and yet when the expected result (me miserable and not wanting to participate in anything) happened
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madlymiho · 4 years ago
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Participating to the wonderful @nakunakunomi​‘s event! Congratulations again for the milestone, it’s always something! But you deserve it for sure! 🥰
“i’ve been falling in love with you since the first day we met”  
random word to include: skilled
I decided to pick a Zoro x Reader scenario for this one! Gender neutral is applied here, so the reader is qualified as “you”
words: 1800
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( read after the cut )
Those things are never easy, he thinks, a firm hand gripping his bottle of booze with a certain strength, his only valid eye staring at the raging waves of the ocean. Another day stuck in the middle of nowhere, the tempest sending the Sunny Go far from any kind of shelter. The everlasting pitching of the boat has been hard to handle for some of the Straw Hat, and the general atmosphere has been more than tensed for a few days. They love each other so much, but it’s not always easy to compose with the various characters and behaviors onboard, especially when they have been unlucky for a week now, the tempest far from being done. If Nami remains the most skilled and capable navigator in the world, Zoro believes that her tensed features and her incapacity to drag them out of the hurricane is proof of the violence of the elements in this particular part of the world. Of course Luffy is thrilled by the adventure, and the feeling is somehow shared by everyone onboard, but all of them now wish to reach an island to have some proper rest. Even Zoro finds it hard to have a nap in these conditions, often awakened because he fell from his bed. Training also became quite impossible, and despite his best efforts to remain sociable and friendly, sometimes, his words are turning into something harsher than usual. 
Of course, he didn’t mean to hurt you tonight. He thought you would understand that it was just joking, but he saw the look in your eyes - and he felt that slap from Nami. What he believed to be genuine and friendly has been nothing but a catastrophe, and now that he’s facing the ocean, gusts of wind fondling his green hair intensely, he definitely feels miserable. He doesn’t know why he always has to act so meaningly with you, it’s a sensation he can’t fully explain. Maybe it’s also increased by the fact they are all trapped here for a week, but if Zoro is honest with himself, this kind of situation has already happened in the past, and he never had talked to someone the way he did with you tonight. Another bitter sigh escapes his throat while he presses the neck of the bottle against his lips, droplets of the transparent liquid disappearing into the sea. Life is more complicated than expected since you’re among the Straw Hats, and this is something concerning. He never had difficulties accepting a new member, but when it came to you, all of his instincts yelled at him to send you away. Your presence is unbearable since day one, and it’s not the same as his squabbles with Sanji. Something profoundly different, changing a side of him he wasn’t ever aware of. Bullshit, for him… Yet the feeling wouldn’t fade. 
“Don’t you think you owe me apologies?” A voice calls behind his back, resulting in Zoro tightening his fingers on the bottle of alcohol. He doesn’t manage to hide the tension within his muscles. 
He hears footsteps on the wooden deck heading in his direction, louder than the wind yelling around them, while he eventually understands that you’re now by his side. He clicks his tongue impatiently, and takes another sip on his bottle. 
“It was just a joke, Name, if you take it so personally, I can’t help you with that.” He answers, his voice as cold as the rain falling from the sky. 
God he’s such a jerk, he knows it. But he wants you to go away and leave him alone. He believes it would be enough to hurt you and force you to abandon the idea to have a conversation with him right now. Because deep down, having a conversation could expose his deepest emotions, and he doesn’t know if he’s ready to confess whatever he’s feeling for you. 
“Why are you like this?” You eventually ask, fingers clenched on the barrier of the Sunny. “Why are you always like this with me?” 
The question leaves your lips before you could control it, Zoro immediately turning his head to have a look on your face. You seem miserable. Of course you don’t understand ; he doesn’t either. He wishes he had an explanation, but his mind only leads him to directions he doesn’t want to explore. He doesn’t want to feel his heartbeat increases whenever you’re around. He doesn’t want to have that wrench within his guts whenever you’re talking to someone else. You’re the one responsible of his own misery, and he doesn’t believe he should make the task easy for you. 
“Because you don’t belong here.” He snaps again, his voice emphazed with the loud thunder over your heads. You shiver, shocked, but Zoro doesn’t take it back. “You should leave.” 
He wants to slap himself for pronouncing those terrible words, the two of you facing each other with an intensity he has never seen before. He looks at the rain falling all over your hair, dripping on your features, probably hiding the tears running down your cheeks. Your expression is more than heartbreaking ; something between sorrow and rage, and he feels profoundly despicable at this particular moment. He anticipates a new slap, something fair he would have earned with his miserable statement, or a burst of deserved violence coming from you. He wants you to hit him, to force him to understand that he has been too far with you, but your silence is the most terrible pain he has to experience. And your eyes. He handles your stare but it pierces him like a spear.
“I have all the rights to be on this ship.” You eventually answer to his cruel words, taking a step forward, your eyes gleaming with a certain wrath. “All the rights to be a member of the crew! How can you be such a jerk? Luffy wouldn’t have recruited me if I wasn’t wanted in the first place! Everyone on the Sunny is okay with that! So why?! Why are you like this with me?” 
Zoro clenches his jaw, unable to find the proper words now. He expected you to run away, because it’s the easiest answer, yet in front of your determination, he finds himself speechless. He raises his bottle back to his lips, but before he can appreciate the bitter taste of the alcohol, your hand crashes on the precious jar, throwing the more than needed liquid into the depths of the ocean. As he widens his valid eye, Zoro quickly catches your wrist. 
“Oï!” He growls impatiently. “What are you doing?!” 
“Answer me!” You snap, voice breaking at the end of your plea. 
With the rain, you believe it’s easy for you to escape his grip, pulling on your wrist because now you want to go away. Zoro feels it. This time it’s entirely different ; this argument could be the end of everything. A part of him wishes that it would be the final answer to his own torment, but on the other side, right now, he doesn’t want to let you go. He doesn’t want to be a coward anymore. So he holds you still, fingers digging in the skin of your wrist to maintain you there. He’s probably harming you, but he has no control over his emotions at the moment. 
“You’re hurting me!” You gasp, wiggling on your legs for him to stop. “Let go!” 
“I’m sorry!” 
His voice has been so loud that you immediately stop struggling, eyes focused on his features. He looks so different than usual… unsettled, and weak. 
“I’m so sorry, I’ve been such an asshole with you…,” he mutters one more time, as he loses his grip on your wrist. You instantly pull it against your chest, massaging the hurt skin. “I have no excuse…”
You frown, forearm still plastered against your body, while you try your best to understand this sudden statement. 
“I don’t… I don’t understand.” 
He sighs because of course you don’t. He grips the barrier of the Sunny, and stares at you right in the eyes.
“I’m sorry, for everything, for all the words I said to you. The truth is, I’ve been falling in love with you since the first day we met.”
For once, the words came smoothly, as if the struggle he has been living for months is now finally over. There’s nothing else coming from his mouth right now, the heavy rain and the powerful wind escorting this moment with their chaotic music. Ironic, after all… Everything has been chaotic with you since day one. He notices the incomprehension in your irises, looking for a taunt, something, anything familiar. He witnesses your body tremble under the revelation, your expression shifting into something entirely different. You definitely look like a lost puppy right now, and Zoro strongly hopes that he wouldn’t have to repeat himself. 
“I don’t - ” 
“Oh, for fuck’s sake!”
He doesn’t want to waste anymore time, as he takes a step forward, one hand rolled around your waist, while the other one finds its place on your nape. He pulls you against his chest, crashing his mouth on yours, because apparently, words and statements aren’t working anymore. There, lips sealed for the very first time, Zoro is able to offer you the real intensity of his own desire, until you eventually surrender to the plea. As you tilt your head, he feels your fingers coming up to disappear in his green locks, both of your bodies even more flushed than before. After a moment, he even dares to open his mouth, the tip of his tongue asking for permission, fondling your own lips with that everlasting lack of gentleness which is definitely typical when it comes to this swordsman. You indulge him, both of your tongue meeting as well, your breathing heavier than before, until you eventually have to part to seek for some fresh air.
“You… So you…” You begin to stutter, unable to escape his grip. 
“Don’t you fucking say another word, you’ll ruin this.” He groans impatiently, despite the smirk plastered on his lips, before he steals another kiss, then another one, the both of you forgetting the raging elements surrounding you, unaware of the curious stares coming from the kitchen’s windows, and Nami collecting her money after they have all bet (except Luffy who doesn’t understand what’s going on) Zoro wouldn’t confess before months. 
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guiltysecretpasttime · 4 years ago
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Happenstance
(title edited)
Note: Heads up – this is end game Linumi with a side of Tokka. With very very slight Pema / Tenzin bashing. Zuko and Katara will feature as well but will not be Zutara (nothing against it though haha). This is def not proofread. This is also definitely not my usual so let’s see. 🤓
---
One-shot, Linumi (Lin / Bumi II), pre-LOK AU
__________
Air Temple Island was lit up tonight and the noise level was way beyond its usual.
A slender woman sat at one of the tables set up across the courtyard, clad in a gray and cream hanfu, hair piled up in a bun. While her attire allowed her to blend in among the other guests, the surly expression indicated that she clearly wanted to be somewhere else.
Someone commented to her earlier about the decorations and how exquisite they look; the couple getting married was tasteful in their choices. She simply stared back blankly without responding until the person excused themselves, getting embarrassed.
Ha. That would teach them.
The lady sniffed at the glass that one of tonight’s waiting staff placed at the table. Their dinner plates have been cleared (not that there was anything she found substantial enough of the dishes served to them).
She threw back the glass, an ugly grimace on her face.
As expected, the drinks were bad.
She groaned, leaning back in her seat. When they had planned this day, she envisioned it going differently. For starters, there would have been meat.
Something has to be said about old friends and loyalty. If it weren’t for that, she would not have deigned attending today’s festivities.
She snorted.
Yeah, right. Politics and majority of her adult life spent on civil service practically ensured her attendance.
Most of the attendees were hypocritical brown-nosers. A while back, they had been clamoring and clapping for the union of an airbender and an earthbender. Today, they all stood by and cheered for the same airbender and his young bride.
A clatter and a huff from her side told her that she was not the only one not enjoying dinner.
“I’m going to find my sister.” Her companion announced, pulling back her chair.
She could distinctly feel the emptiness of the other seat at the table. The ceremonies were over and even dinner was nearly over, but the seat remained empty.
“She was not supposed to be on duty today.” Was all she could respond to that. “There were other people who can easily take the job; she insisted leading today’s security team.”
The younger woman simply shrugged. “Of course.”
Toph Beifong could only close her unseeing eyes as Suyin went off to find her eldest, who they last saw briefing the officers on duty some time before the start of the wedding ceremony of the last airbender.
The scraping of the chair and a thunk signaled her to the presence of another person joining their table.
“The food is a bust and the drinks are a flop. Wanna leave before they start dragging people to the dance floor?” The man nudged her shoulder. “I’d have you know that I smuggled in high quality booze on the island; I have bottles that my sister did not confiscate.”
She wanted to ignore the man but the promise of alcohol got her attention. “What kind of booze are you talking about, Sokka?”
The Water Tribe man told her what he had brought over; it was enough to convince her.
“Let’s go.” And she allowed herself to be dragged away.
 ---
Suyin Beifong had gone down to the docks and back up to the welcoming arc. Yet, she has not found any trace of her sister. All of Lin’s colleagues had told her that she had already gotten to the main courtyard an hour or so ago.
She was about to go back and report to her mother that Lin was missing when she saw that the table was empty.
Great, even Mom has escaped.
Truth be told, Su did not really have to go this hard in searching for her sister. A few months ago, they had not even been on speaking terms (her fault, of course, she admitted to Lin years late).
 ---
When she opened the newspaper weeks ago and saw the wedding banns announcing Tenzin’s marriage to someone who was not her sister, Su took the first ride to Republic City and boarded the ferry to Air Temple Island…
And promptly punched the airbender on his large and crooked nose.
Before leaving, Su, in true Beifong fashion, let all her power and anger loose and managed to wreck a sizable section of the island.
As she went her merry way in Republic City, towards the familiar path to the Republic City Police Headquarters, with the intent to seek an audience with her sister (hoping against hope that the usually irate metalbender will not throw her out), she spotted her unsuspecting target.
A young (too young! She thought) woman clad in orange and yellow was browsing some produce in one of the market stalls.
Without even looking around and without even a moment of indecision, Su slid her foot on the ground, commanding an almost imperceptible piece of earth to jut out in the direction of the woman.
The next moments of chaos would forever be imprinted in Su’s memory.
The woman she knew from the photos as Pema tripped as she moved to the next stall. Su quickly flattened the earth to avoid detection.
Pema attempted to regain her balance and ended up grabbing the nearest thing she could – which was a chopping board from the fruit stall. This resulted in the fruit on it (sliced watermelons) being flung off and hitting the stall owner across the street. Unbeknownst to them, the two stall owners (both selling fruit) already had an on-going and long-standing dispute.
The flying fruit was the straw that broke the camel’s back.
Chaos broke lose.
Fruits, vegetables, feathers and even animal blood started flying around.
Whistles and sirens permeated the air.
With a sense of schadenfreude, Su found herself paralyzed at the edge of the commotion, watching what she intended to be an inconvenience to an individual turn into a full-fledged market fight.
Before long, members of the Republic City Police Department started swarming the area and arrests were happening right and left.
“Little Suyin, is that you?”
Su stiffened, recognizing one of her mother’s captains approach her (Lin’s captain now, she supposed).
“Heeeeeeey, Captain Ryou.” It was all she could say with a smile too innocent to be believed.
“I don’t know why you’re back in Republic City but I have a strong feeling that you’re somewhat involved in this.” The metalbender shook his head.
Su froze her smile on her face.
“Can’t prove it though.” Captain Ryou gave instructions to his second-in-command before continuing the conversation with the youngest Beifong. “What brings you to Republic City?”
“Can you bring me to meet my sister – I mean – Chief Beifong?”
 ---
“Where is she?”
The door slid open revealing Chief Lin Beifong.
Su immediately stood up and quickly held up a hand to stop the older Beifong from talking. She offered her sincere apologies and she practically grovelled (grovelled! No Beifong has ever grovelled and here she was grovelling) at her sister. She even offered to participate in community service *and* shell out money to pay for damages and/or bail.
Lin looked stunned. It was apparent that it was not what she had expected of their first interaction since her sister was sent away to Gaoling.
To Su's surprise, Lin was quick to forgive. Then again, Lin always was the mature daughter of Toph Beifong (even more mature than she is). She was taken aback.
“But wait -there is something that you should know about what I did earlier today -.”
“I heard and I saw - I'll take you up on covering the damages of Air Temple Island. Tenzin was not pleased when he arrived at the station earlier to report you." Lin frowned. "Then we were both surprised to hear that his bride was in holding."
"Ah." This was Su's opening. "About that -."
"What on earth did you hit him on the face with?"
 ---
Earthbending.
Right. Kicking herself mentally, Su used seismic sense to look for her sister and quickly found her at the kitchen that the caterers had set up for the event.
Su was relieved to see Lin garbed in the form-fitting dress that she bought the other week specifically for the wedding (eat your heart out, Airhead).
“Finally found me, have you?” Lin lazily spoke, twirling a goblet of what could be that horrible wine being served earlier.
"Enjoying yourself?" Su thought it was a pity that Lin was all dressed up and there was no one to appreciate it.
A shrug. "No security breaches, no gate crashers - I'll say it was a job well-done for RCPD today."
Su rolled her eyes. "Well, of course, they practically hired the Chief of Police to provide security for their miserable wedding."
Another shrug.
“Oh come on.” Su petulantly pulled at Lin's arm, effectively sloshing the rest of her drink on the floor.
"Watch it!" Lin grumbled. "Is the party that good that you want me to share in their joy?"
"No, don't be daft. When was the last time did we have fun at a party that Tenzin threw?" Remembering that maybe her sister and the airbender actually had an engagement party in her absence, Su quickly added. "We are going to have our own beach party."
 ---
"We didn't do well, did we?"
"Excuse me?" The waterbender was startled from her passive people-watching, uninterested to join the festivities.
"This is the second wedding among our children that seemed to be under duress."
Katara did not deign to reply to the Fire Lord because she agreed.
"Izumi," Zuko nodded towards his daughter who was seated with other Fire Nation dignitaries and her husband, a Fire Nation nobleman who had a position in one of the older colonies. "At least seems to be getting along better with her husband."
Indeed, Katara noticed the difference in body language of the Crown Princess and her husband compared to how they were during their own wedding.
"Enough about my child -what about yours?" Zuko could not miss how stiff Tenzin was on the dance floor as he led his wife for their first dance.
Katara could only shake her head. "He has embarked on his own family life now - all I can do is support him."
They watched as Izumi laughed delicately while her husband whispered something in her ear and gently offered his hand before leading her to the dance floor.
Both of them sat in comfortable silence now when the waterbender's attention was caught by her brother leaving the head table from the other end.
"Are they going public tonight?" Zuko asked, surprise tainting his question as Sokka sat beside Toph and appearing to be wheedling her to stand up with him.
She sighed. "I don't know who they think they are fooling." When they were younger, she struggled to understand how her brother's mind works. Now that they were older, Katara simply gave up.
"Here's hoping they finally get their happy ending tonight." Was all she could say as Sokka was successful in prying Toph from being disapproving at her seat.
 ---
"I could have sworn there were more bottles of cactus juice." Sokka scratched his head when he got to their meeting place.
They parted ways when they left the reception. Toph had gone off in search for actual sustenance and had returned, clutching several pouches of jerky and fireflakes ("Where did you-?" "Don't ask. Can't tell you.")
"Meh." Toph tore open a packet of jerky, popping a piece into her mouth before grabbing one of the bottles and taking a swig out of it.
Sokka made himself comfortable at the stone bench that was situated at far from the courtyard, a slope semi-hidden by trees. Their seat provided them an excellent view of the bay and the shore below them.
There were well within the private area of the island where only family and close friends are allowed. Most guests probably did not know about the area itself.
…Which made it unusual for two individuals to be walking at the shore at this time.
Sokka struggled to identify them in the dark but snippets of conversation floated up to them.
"Lin -it's okay to be mad. This is the perfect time to let loose!"
"My daughters are down there, aren't they?" Toph's uncharacteristically whispered, holding Sokka's forearm.
Sokka swallowed a lump in his throat. "Yes, your daughters."
 ---
The older metalbender glared her sister, who sat down on a nearby rock.
Lin curled her bare feet on the sand, one hand holding her shoes and the other hand a bottle of the swill that airhead deemed to serve as wine.
It barely had alcohol in it.
Today was supposed to be her wedding.
But shit happens.
No one really knew the main reason of their falling out - except for her and Tenzin.
Good riddance.
She took another sip.
"Why are you forcing yourself with that? We got the good ones!"
Bumi and Kya arrived from beyond the greenery that hid the path to the beach.
Lin shot scowl at her sister looked as surprised as she did.
"I didn't invite them!"
Bumi guffawed. "No one invited us - we used to live here, you know."
He got a punch to his arm, care of his sister. "What he meant was we saw that the Beifongs had deserted their table and had correctly assumed that you would be here."
Here meant this short stretch of the shore which was inaccessible or unknown to most. Even acolytes who might have lived their entire life on the island were not aware how to get there. This became their go-to place when they were younger, a respite of sorts from their life. It seemed fitting now.
"Wouldn't you be missed?" Su accepted the bottle that Kya offered.
The waterbender snorted. "They're all enthralled by the program."
Lin tossed aside her empty bottle and Bumi handed her a newly opened bottle of cactus juice. "Fancy that."
 ---
"So that's where my drinks have gone!"
"Well, Snoozles, you probably did not hide them properly."
 ---
"Come on Lin, be petty! You get a free pass today!"
A cheer was heard from above, where the party was still on-going.
"Damn right you do."
Lin took another gulp. The more she drank, the more she felt relaxed.
The bickering of Bumi and Kya and Suyin goading her… It harkened to their childhood days.
The only one missing was, well, her best friend.
Ex-best friend.
Bumi tossed her a pack of fire flakes.
 ---
"So that's where you got the fire flakes!"
"I didn't steal it if that's what you think." A sniff. "I ordered boxes of it from Bumi; he did say they were docking at the Fire Nation before heading here."
 ---
"That's the spirit!"
"You're welcome!" Lin shouted to the bay. "You're welcome for planning all this," She waved vaguely around. "For the past months! This is the thanks I get for your instant wedding and reception!"
"What! No way." Kya's eyes widened. She thought her younger brother was full of it but this was beyond what she expected (and she had low expectations).
"What - why do you think that the color palette?"
"Tenzin said it's because Pema came from the Earth Kingdom…" Bumi said slowly.
Su snorted. "Earth Kingdom colors would not exactly match the Beifong family colors though. But they're quite close."
"The menu, of course, they had to scrap." Lin leaned on her sister as they had all now sat on the sand, facing the water.
"Mom was most disappointed at that; she took all the food tasting seriously."
"I told her we can still order our choices as a set menu one of these days."
"I heard Uncle Sokka griping about meat to Mom earlier as well." Kya added. "So, what else did they repurpose from your wedding plans?"
As if on cue, music was carried over to their spot.
Bumi saw Lin's lip twitch. "Your playlist, huh?"
Lin looked away, eyes glassy.
 ---
The military man knew what he needed to do. He usually worked on impulse and tonight was no different.
He got up, patted his hands on his pants to brush off the sand that had stuck to his sticky palms.
Bumi extended his hand to the still seated earthbender.
”May I have this dance?"
 ---
“What if the Chief of Police was never meant to be with the councilman?”
Toph remained silent. She sat straight, bare feet firmly on the ground, sensing with clarity how her eldest slowly stood up to accept the offer of the eldest of the previous Avatar.
What if indeed…
Had they all been blind blind?
Sokka was probably reading too much into the scene below them.
To her surprise, Lin and Bumi began to move in time with the music, more in sync with each other than they had ever been with anyone else. And that was saying something – both had been at the top of their respective classes in their academies. Both had passed team tactical tests with flying colors, where working flawlessly with their colleagues is imperative.
And yet…
“What if she was meant to be with the easily overlooked non-bender?” Sokka’s whisper was now much closer to her ear than it was earlier.
Toph's breath caught in her throat.
Was he still talking about her daughter and his nephew?
 ---
“I never knew Bumi was a dancer.”
“He isn’t.” Bumi’s sister confirmed. “He probably learned his fancy footwork from the military.”
“Lin always was graceful,” Su leaned forward, enthralled by the movements the pair did on the sand. “Grandma forced us to go to dance class."
 ---
“You know, Aunt Toph used to call Uncle Aang fancy dancer.”
“Excuse me?” Tenzin unwittingly echoed his mother’s words as he was caught unawares. He quickly faced the person who interrupted his solitude.
“There you are.” Izumi was leaning on the railing of the path that led to the shore. “Hiding out during your own wedding banquet?”
“I needed air.”
“You can create your own air.” The Crown Princess rolled her eyes. “Lin was right, you are an airhead.” She nodded to the group of four dancing, laughing and drinking by the bay.
The airbender let out a sound that was a cross between a snort and a scoff.
The two of them simply watched the group below, unmindful and unaware of their observers.
Izumi heard the man beside her gasp as Bumi suddenly dipped Lin and then lifted her up. “Don’t look like a kicked turtleduck. It's your wedding night. You made your bed and so you better lie in it." With that, she left the brooding groom.
With one last look at the group by the way, Tenzin soon followed, ready to plaster on a smile as he made his way back to the courtyard and guests.
 ---
Heaving in exertion of the dance, Lin found herself leaning forward, trying to catch her breath. “Where's Kya and Su?”
"They got bored. Maybe." Bumi noticed their sisters were nowhere to be found.
Before Lin could even respond, he let out a loud belch before excusing himself.
She laughed.
He reddened with embarrassment but quickly recovered. He scrambled to the pile of food that he and Kya had smuggled earlier.
Plopping beside him, sand disturbed, she took a drink and rummaged through the junk food (some of which she had vowed never to even touch, an influence of having a vegetarian partner for a long time).
She racked her memory as to the last time she felt this carefree and impulsive; she came up empty-handed.
Lin decided she liked the feeling.
 ---
"What do you have to lose, Lin Beifong?" He breathed against her lips.
"We don't do commitment well." As though that explained it all.
"You wore it well but he didn't. You would not need to worry about that with me - no strings attached."
That she could live with.
Sometimes things happen because they had to.
But maybe sometimes there was no reason why.
 ---
The next day had the makings of an auspicious beginning.
Tenzin felt he barely slept when Pema (his wife) began rousing.
Whenever the Fire Lord stays over, his father used to have meditation with him. The years had passed so did his father (and the Fire Lady). The children sought to continue traditions.
Each family would be represented during morning meditation. It just was their custom.
Tenzin thought this would be the best opportunity to introduce his wife to their family traditions.
Surely they'll remember that he would be bringing Pema over?
 Apparently not.
When they reached the family pavilion, everyone was in place - Izumi beside her father and the two Beifong sisters.
The Beifong sisters who were bickering at this early hour.
“What are you doing here?” Su’s voice rang clean in the air, almost accusingly at her sister. Said sister simply shrugged.
“Hi Uncle Zuko.” Lin bowed before the Fire Lord.
“Ah, Lin, Suyin.” The old Fire Lord’s eyes twinkled happily. “Two Beifongs for the price of one.”
The older Beifong finally turned to her sister. “Mom told me.”
Su rolled eyes.
Izumi clicked her tongue. “Well, she tricked you both and just wanted to make sure that the House of Beifong is present this morning.”
Tenzin cleared his throat, diverting the attention to him. “Good morning.”
“Ah, the newly-weds.” Zuko remarked, inclining his head.
“I suppose you’re here because we can hardly expect Kya to be up.” Izumi observed.
“Same goes for Bumi.” Tenzin cannot help but quip, observing Lin’s reaction.
“Tenzin, we weren’t expecting you.” Zuko said not unkindly. “Specially for Pema to wake up this early. But it is appreciated. Let us begin.”
 Tenzin’s mind wandered.
 Pema was fidgeting beside him.
Had she always been fidgety during meditation?
 At the opposite end, Lin looked calm and unbothered. He had supposed that she would be bothered by their presence but, she barely batted an eyelash.
And where was Bumi?
Maybe nothing happened…
He knew Lin would have taken the chance to sleep in if ever.
 ---
To Tenzin’s irritation, the first person they encountered upon reaching the dining area was his brother.
“I’m surprised you’re awake.” He bit out.
Bumi threw him an amused look as he placed a large platter on the long table. “Of course – were you expecting me to be hungover?” He smiled and greeted his sister-in-law.
“You cooked!” Pema exclaimed in astonishment.
Bumi blinked while other people started to filter into the room. “Someone had to help mom, and, no offense, I don’t fancy eating meatless grub.”
“I knew I liked you better.” Toph Beifong entered the room, punching Bumi’s arm, her hair all puffed up from being in bed. “Well done.” She yawned, walking towards the seat in front of her daughters.
Sokka lazily slid beside her, rubbing his eyes and pulling out the chair for Toph.
 “Someone had a rough night.” Su snickered at the pair.
A smirk and a blush were exchanged.
“Did not.”
“Please, I sensed what you were up to.” Lin smirked at her mother. “Wanna bet?”
“No, thanks.” Toph ignored her daughter’s dare and reached over to get a cream bun.
 Everyone started to dig in when Katara sat at the head of the table.
Bumi hesitated before sitting down at Lin’s other side.
Tenzin looked around the table to see if people noticed it.
No one was reacting.
Then again, he realized it was usually Bumi who picked up on undercurrents like that, being observant himself.
Well, Tenzin considered, Bumi, Toph and Lin.
He had fully expected either Bumi or Lin to give more credence to the night’s romp.
Neither seemed worse for wear though.
Unless…
He frowned.
 Kya nudged him and whispered. “You’re a newly-wed, why do you look far too displeased?”
Tenzin then became a little bit more conscious and focused on his plate.
Pema was no help, who was simply quiet and seemingly in awe.
Belatedly, Tenzin remembered that this was the first meal that his wife would have with the entire extended family.
 Just then, several acolytes entered the dining room, carrying trays of food.
Katara beckoned them over and asked them to place the food on the table. She turned to Tenzin and Pema almost apologetically.
“We didn’t expect you to be up and I had asked the acolytes to prepare food for you in bed.”
“That was thoughtful of you, Master Katara. Thank you.” Pema meekly responded, dipping her head in deference.
 Something twisted in Tenzin’s chest.
It was not a well-kept secret that when Lin was over, they tend to eat breakfast in bed.
 ---
Tenzin felt everyone was waiting with bated breath.
Every time Pema would shake her head as her courses arrived – well, the airbender could only nod back.
They better try harder.
 Tenzin did not know what else to do.
 ---
The first time was fun.
The second time was on a whim because why not?
The succeeding ones – they barely thought about it, making no more excuses other than that they enjoyed each other’s company.
They could live with this, they reckoned.
Two misfits, Bumi had said. Failures in the eyes of their parents.
Unfit to continue a legacy.
 ---
One night, Lin had opened up to him – to both of their incredulity.
It was painful to share but at the same time, there was something cathartic about having a non-judging listening ear.
It has been a long time since she had someone like that, Lin mused.
“You’re better off without him.”
The metalbender had looked up in wonder at that statement.
No one had ever told her that before. It was always in the vein of her deficiencies and how she did not measure up to expectations.
Surrounded by air acolytes and the White Lotus, their patriarchal stance and beliefs had woven its way into her previous relationship. Motherhood, apparently, was one of the few things that they see a woman’s way of self-actualizing. Never mind that the wife of the previously last airbender was a master healer and warrior in her own right.
 “You’d think growing up under Mom’s parenting would disabuse him of those misconceptions.”
As much as he thought that his brother was spineless, Bumi would not dare disparage him in public. Blood is blood and truth be told, he would never know the pressures of being the last airbender (and the non-bender was forever thankful of that).
Family is family, just as Lin and Su fell into an easy kinship despite years of estrangement.
Nonetheless, the disgust he felt at his brother’s treatment of Lin was propelling him to head on to Air Temple Island to knock sense into him (albeit it would be too late). Lin managed to dissuade him stating that this was why she did not feel comfortable about sharing why it all ended.
“I know you don’t need protecting or saving.” Bumi scooted over the bed, tightening his arm around her. “But I want you to know that someone’s always got your back here.” He placed her palm on his chest (his heart, though he was not about to reveal that to her any time soon).
 “I do want kids. I did. I probably still do.” It was a whisper. “I guess it wasn't meant to be.”
She held her knees to her chest.
Bumi moved closer, hugging her unmindful of the tears.
“Hey,” He gently tilted her chin up. “We can always be the cool uncle and aunt these brats have ever seen.”
Lin managed a weak laugh.
“After all, where else can they find an aunt who can rappel down a skyscraper without a safety net?”
 ---
He wondered.
When had it all changed to something more, something beyond friendship?
 She certainly enjoyed his company, at least behind closed doors.
He let her be herself. And vice versa.
It wasn't meant to be a secret. He understood she was burned.
And so he let it be.
He admitted her one time that they were watching the dawn that he liked their arrangement - the thrill in hiding, of being caught.
He wondered if it was just the daredevil in him that sought this excitement in his life.
 ---
Slowly the press left her alone outside her capacity of being chief of police.
All focus was on the council and its youngest councilman.
 She used to see his name on the papers and feel a stab of regret.
Then it dissolved into a twinge.
Then simply a phantom pulse of hurt.
Until it was nothing.
 ---
“You’re looking at the United Forces new liaison officer!”
It had taken a while but the powers that be had surmised that the overall situation has stabilized. No more pirates and, definitely (to his immense relief), no more cannibals.
 “Seriously?” An arched eyebrow was the disbelieving response to his announcement.
He felt hurt but masked it with a grin. “Yes.”
“It wasn’t a jab at your capabilities.” Lin rolled her eyes. His façade did not fool her. Not one bit. “It’s just that – is this what you wanted?”
Bumi was taken aback. It has been a while since anyone cared to ask or know what he wanted.
“Yes, of course.” It was surprisingly sincere.
He didn’t mind that he would be staying put in Republic City for the time being.
He did not mind at all.
---
It has all hushed up.
The public relations guy that Lin hired at Bumi’s suggestion was wonderful at his job.
 One of Lin’s trusted staff at her home placed a call to the Bumi’s direct line.
Bumi’s heart caught in his throat and he hurried home to the Beifong manor.
 “I'm good.” Lin did what she did best – downplay her injuries or illness.
Leave it to a Beifong to hire a private nurse and doctor to see to her after a fainting spell at work.
Bumi approved of this. None of that hospital stuff – Lin’s reputation as the Chief of Police would suffer and the criminal underbelly might see it as an opportunity to wreak havoc.
Seeking to lighten the air and shake off his concern, “You may be good now, but after I'm done with you I don’t know if you’ll still be good.” He waggled his eyebrows, hinting at a naughty past time.
“Oh, I’m all yours – be as bad as you want to be.” To his delight, Lin quipped back. “I’ll have you know though that that’s what got us into this predicament.”
His jaw slackened, he noticed Lin’s eyes shining.
Could it be?
He gently placed his shaking hands on Lin’s still flat abdomen. He gazed at Lin’s face, a question unspoken.
She nodded, placing her hand over his, smiling.
“I’m going to be a father!”
The man’s howl echoed throughout the manor.
 ---
Bumi was a superstitious man.
Having encountered various peoples and learned different cultures in travels through the course of his military career, he had picked up practices and folklore along the way. He was adamant that where necessary, they will practice them if only for the health and safety of mother and child.
 For the most part, Lin let him do what he wished. She understood at some level the trepidation that the man felt regarding their impending parenthood.
However, after the boisterous man had frightened yet another one of her household staff as he crept into the manor in the wee hours of the morning, carrying yet another exotic fruit for her, Lin had invited him to stay in.
 She leaned at her windowsill, enjoying the breeze.
Bumi was chatting with her gardener, a kind old man hired by Toph when she first had the manor constructed years ago.
He had readily assimilated into the life at the manor.
And she, meanwhile, was contented, oddly enough.
 ---
From Su
It’s your ex’s birthday (Lin looked heavenward at her sister’s juvenile terms) next week and I received this gaudy invitation for his party.
I’d expect you’d be going too? As a family friend, I mean, and don’t you dare use the police card.
Anyway, sending you this book – it’s a good read. It helped me understand Baatar a little bit more.
 ---
From Lin
I intended to attend in my professional capacity, of course.
But some snitch sent a letter to Aunt Katara to request that I should not be part of the security detail.
And, Su – what is this garbage? This is not going to help me in any way.
 ---
 The Five Love Languages
 ---
From Su
Oh come on. I’m sure there is someone special in your life. And before you even accuse me of sending spies (not that I didn’t think about that), it’s how you’ve been writing back to me.
You’re less acerbic. And the point is – you have been writing back!
Sweet Agni, even Tenzin wasn’t able to induce you to respond to any of my letters.
 ---
From Lin
Su: Mind your own business.
 ---
Nonetheless, she read the book.
 ---
“Whoa there! What was that?” Everyone paused to pay attention to the blind earthbender who raised a hand, requesting silence. “Who else is there? How many are we in the room?” She volunteered a number to be confirmed.
Sokka counted each individual.
Toph Beifong was off by one count.
---
Katara eyed Tenzin and nodded towards Pema.
The airbender shook his head.
 ---
Lin gripped Bumi’s arm in alarm.
This was not how she wanted it to be revealed. Not here, not now, not yet.
Not on Tenzin’s birthday.
 Toph quickly shot a look at her daughter, no doubt feeling the increased (and additional) heartbeats. Her eyes widened subtly.
 Lin and Bumi held their breath.
 “I might have been mistaken.” She raised her glass. “Tipsy, you know.”
“Yeah, dear that's likely it.” Sokka laughed. “You must be getting old.”
 Bumi saw his mother look shrewdly at their joined hands.
Of course. Mothers knew best.
And mothers knew all.
He caught her eye and nodded – a promise to speak later.
 ---
Then came the toast.
Drinks were provided around to the guests, save for the birthday celebrant and the air acolytes who were given another set of drinks.
“To good health!”
“Cheers!”
 “Lin, why aren’t you drinking?”
Lin froze.
They had not counted on their uncle.
“You never passed up the chance for wine.” Sokka was oblivious to Toph pinching his arm to stop talking. “Is there something wrong with the selection?” He was taking offense at it since he was the one who provided the libation for the celebration.
“Uncle…” Bumi attempted to intervene.
“You took after your mama here – the only time she stopped was when she was carrying you or Su.”
There was a palpable shift in the room when comprehension dawned on all the guests.
Bumi’s proprietary and protective posture beside Lin did not go unnoticed.
 All eyes turned to the airbender who had slowly approached Lin.
Tenzin suddenly hugged her and slid down, kneeling in front of her, causing the metalbender to gasp.
He shook as he had his arms around Lin’s legs.
 “Leave us.”
 Pema’s stony countenance clearly expressed her displeasure at the request but left nonetheless.
Bumi looked like he wanted to argue but he recognized wordless plea on Lin's face.
His heart sank.
 ---
I’m sorry.
It’s all my fault.
I was too weak.
I’m sorry Lin.
You did not deserve all that.
Not at all.
I’m the one who was not enough – I’m the one who failed you.
 ---
I know that now, Tenzin.
  I must go.
 ---
Bumi tossed a rock into the bay.
This was where it all started. How fitting.
On the night of his brother’s wedding.
 And maybe, as his hearing picked up the unique steps of Lin, this was where it will end as well.
And on the night of his brother’s birthday.
 He sighed. It was good while it lasted.
He supposed he would always be the Avatar’s screw-up son.
 “I thought I'd find you here.”
 Before he could even form the words to ask how soon he needed to move out, Lin’s lips were on his.
 Well, maybe Sokka was right - the Chief of Police was meant for the non-bender.
--
What do you think? 🤔💭
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officerrxyes-inactive · 4 years ago
Text
Eager, Young, and Starry-Eyed
(read on ao3)
Summary: When Carlos is asked to participate in the annual football game for his police precinct, TK is more than willing to come cheer him on. The afternoon does not go quite as they expect it though... (sorry I suck at summaries) 
Note: Beta-read by my fave person @terramous 
Title from “Late July” by Shakey Graves... it really has nothing to do with the story itself but I’m so so obsessed with this song and I just needed to use it as a title so.
TK was never that interested in sports. His dad had tried to get him into playing or at least watching any sports game with him when he was younger but it just never stuck.
But when Carlos told him about the annual football game that he was participating in for his police precinct, he couldn’t help but share in his excitement. Watching his attractive boyfriend run around on a field in a tight shirt, all hot and sweaty? He didn’t even have to think twice before agreeing to come cheer him on. 
Which is how he found himself sitting on the bleachers under the hot Austin sun in a local park.
He tries his best to follow the action on the field. Carlos had mentioned the game was just a friendly competition and from what he could tell, he was right. The players don’t seem to be taking the game too seriously. Instead of the aggressiveness among players TK was used to seeing when he would watch games with his dad, the players have been laughing and teasing each other throughout today’s game.
As for his boyfriend, TK did not have to understand the game to realize Carlos was playing incredibly well. In just the first half, he had worked up quite the sweat. He knew his boyfriend had played football in high school, having found his letterman jacket hidden in the back of his closet. However, when TK confronted him about it, Carlos failed to mention how good he was at the game. 
And now, seeing the little beads of sweat on Carlos’ forehead glisten in the sun was enough to make TK’s mouth dry. He could not wait to grab the other man by his wet curls and kiss him as soon as the game was over.
Every once in a while, Carlos glances over to him and gives him a smile that makes TK’s heart flutter. Who knew football was so much more fun to watch when the man you love was playing?
He was so lost in thought of how hot his boyfriend looked that it took him a few beats to realize that said man was no longer running across the field but was now curled up on the ground, surrounded by his teammates. 
Immediately, TK stands up, his heart pounding in his ears. What happened? Why wasn’t Carlos getting up?
He tries to suppress emotions and his racing thoughts but when another thirty seconds pass without Carlos making any move to get up, he can’t stop himself from making his way down the bleachers, toward the field. He pauses for a second at the sideline, wondering if it is okay for him to be on the field. But he quickly pushes that thought aside and makes his way over to Carlos. This is his boyfriend lying on the ground, clearly hurt. If anything, TK can at least try to push aside his emotions and put his training as a first responder to good use. 
As he gets closer to Carlos, he recognizes a few of the faces surrounding him, having seen them when he meets his boyfriend at the station or on calls. They must recognize him too because as soon as he gets close enough the crowd starts to part, allowing him to reach Carlos. Either that, or the worried look on his face is enough for them not to question who he is.
“Hey,” he says, kneeling down next to Carlos, “I didn’t see what happened. Are you okay?”
When Carlos looks up at him with a tight expression and jaw clenched so hard that the vein in his neck stands out, he gets his answer. Carlos is clearly not okay.
“Got tackled and my knee gave out,” Carlos winces and manages to grunt out.
TK’s heart breaks seeing the man he loves in such clear agony. He’s been with Carlos long enough to know the man has a high tolerance for pain and will often try to hide it, insisting that he is fine. The fact that he isn’t even bothering to conceal his emotions at this moment sets off quite a few alarms in TK’s head.
“Do you think you can stand so we can get you off the field?”
Carlos gives a small, unsure nod, and TK extends his hand out, trying to take on as much as the other man’s weight as he can. He slings the injured man’s arm over his shoulder and one of his teammates does the same on the other side, allowing Carlos to be practically carried off the field.
Once they hobble their way over to the sidelines, TK eases Carlos down onto the bench. He then takes a seat next to him and gently brings the other man’s right leg up to elevate it so he can take a closer look at it. He lightly touches it only to pull away when he hears Carlos’ sharp intake of breath. With how tender his knee is, TK can’t help but worry. It’s not looking good.
“Do you guys have any ice?” TK asks, directing his attention to the teammate who had assisted him in getting Carlos off the field. 
The other guy nods and hurries off before returning with a fresh bag of ice that TK gingerly places on Carlos’ knee.
“How’s your pain? One to ten?”
“Eleven. I think it’s my ACL,” Carlos grits out.
TK can feel his heart breaking all over again. ACL tears are never a good thing. If Carlos is right, he will likely be out of commission for a while. 
“Maybe not, it could just be a bad sprain.” TK suggests, trying to hope for the best.
“No, it is. I’ve done this before. With my other knee.”
“What? Carlos!”
“It’s what ended my football career in high school.”
Did Carlos really just say a knee injury is the reason why he stopped playing football? “Then can you please explain why you thought it would be a good idea to participate in the game today?”
“I told you it was just a friendly competition. I didn’t think it would be too rough, and I was told that the odds of my re-tearing my ACL was low.”
“Well were you ever informed that the probability of tearing the ACL in your other knee was higher? Around nine to twelve percent actually.” TK knows this is not the best time to throw statistics in Carlos’ face but his boyfriend needs to understand that what he did was reckless and preventable.
Carlos just looks at TK, pain clearly laced in his eyes as he bites down on his lip.
TK takes a breath. As much as he worries about his boyfriend and knows this could have been avoided, it happened nonetheless. And now they have to deal with it. “We need to get you checked out at the hospital. Do you think you can get over to the car or do you want me to call for an ambulance?”
He shakes his head. “It was embarrassing enough to get hurt in front of my co-workers, I don’t need to run the risk of Michelle finding out yet. She’s never going to let me live this down…” He pauses for a second before continuing, “I think I can make it to the car and you can drive.”
“Well I kind of figured I would be the one driving,” TK chuckles but stops when the joke falls flat.
TK loops his arm around Carlos, this time taking on the other man’s weight alone, and they make their way towards the parking lot.
---
Lucky for them, the emergency room was near empty and Carlos was able to be taken back right away. After an initial examination by the doctor which proved just how tender and swollen his knee was, he had been sent back for an MRI.
Now he was back in the room, waiting with TK anticipating the results. TK couldn’t help but notice how miserable his boyfriend looked sitting on the hospital bed, icing and elevating his right knee. He had traded in his sweaty t-shirt and shorts for an uncomfortable light blue hospital gown. The scowl on his face confirmed that Carlos would prefer to be anywhere else but here.
He exhales at his boyfriend's lethargic state. 
This gets Carlos’ attention, who turns and meets his eye. “What?”
“I know this sucks but you don’t have to look so sad.” TK tries to hide the small smile forming on his face. He can’t help it at the sight of the adorable pout of Carlos’ lips.
“I’m glad my pain is amusing you,” Carlos says as he looks away from the other man.
TK just stares at his boyfriend. “Come on, you know I didn’t mean it like that.”
Before Carlos can respond, their soft banter is interrupted by Carlos’ doctor knocking on the sliding glass door.
“I have the results for your scan,” he starts off. “I’m afraid our initial prognosis was right. There is a tear in the ACL of your right knee.”
TK doesn’t fail to notice the look of disappointment that washes over Carlos’ face upon hearing the news. He leans over and grabs his hand before giving a small nod to the doctor to continue.
“Now, taking in your occupation as an active police officer I would highly recommend surgery to repair the tear. It would require quite a bit of physical rehabilitation post-surgery, however it would guarantee you can get back out in the field in top shape. I can’t say the same for going with the non-surgical option, but that is still on the table if you would rather take that route.”
“I’ll do the surgery,” Carlos states without hesitation.
“Are you sure you don’t want to think about it?” TK asks, slightly taken aback by Carlos’ quick answer. He knows his boyfriend is anxious to return to work but this is a big decision and should not be taken lightly.
“I need to do it, TK,” he says, giving him a reassuring look before directing his attention back to the doctor. “I want to do the procedure.”
“Okay, well in that case I have an opening for you two weeks from today that we can schedule you for. And in the meantime, we’ll get you fitted with a brace and crutches. Try to take it easy until then and continue to ice and elevate until the swelling goes down.” 
Carlos nods and looks at TK, giving him a small smile. The same smile that made his heart flutter just a few hours ago, now under different circumstances but having the same effect. His boyfriend was going to be just fine.
“Careful baby,” TK says while holding the door open for his boyfriend who was hobbling behind him on his crutches. His knee was now safely secured in a tight black brace. Though if the look on Carlos’ face was any indication, it was still causing him quite a bit of pain. 
“Yeah, I got it,” Carlos grunts as he makes his way through the door frame.
TK just sighs. He knows his boyfriend is determined to do everything on his own but he’s mistaken if he thinks TK isn’t going to mother hen him for the next few months until he is fully recovered.
He watches Carlos ease himself onto the couch, elevating his knee and letting his crutches fall to the side. 
Making his way over to the kitchen, TK grabs a fresh ice pack for his boyfriend before joining him on the couch, delicately placing the ice pack on Carlos’ knee.
“How are you doing?” TK asks, concern clear in his voice.
“My knee hurts.”
“I can’t fathom why it would. I meant mentally, how are you doing?”
“I don’t know,” Carlos says, averting his gaze away from TK.
TK pulls on his hand to get his attention. “Hey, talk to me.”
“I guess I’m bummed because this won’t be an easy recovery, and I really want to get back to work but I know that won’t happen for a while.”
“How do you feel about the surgery?”
---
“I’m a little nervous… I mean I had the same procedure when it happened but this time it’s different. I was in high school then. Now, I don’t know,” he pauses to gather his thoughts. “The stakes are a little higher I guess.”
“Well, you agreed to it very quickly,” TK adds on.
“Yeah, TK, because I know if I want to go back to work, that’s my only option,” Carlos quickly fires back.
“Listen to me,” TK says, looking at his boyfriend seriously. “You’re allowed to be more than a little nervous about it. It’s a fairly big procedure. And yes, it will take a while to recover but I’m going to be here every step of the way to take care of you. Mentally and physically.”
Carlos looks up at him softly before snuggling into TK’s side. “Have I mentioned how much I adore you?”
“Did I mention how hot you looked today, all athletic?” TK bites on his lip, the urge from earlier in the day to grab his boyfriend by the curls coming back just as strong. “Yeah some athlete I am,” Carlos says, gesturing down to his knee brace.
TK just smirks. “Well have I mentioned I find sports injuries pretty hot too?”
“You’re ridiculous,” Carlos chuckles. 
TK smiles and cups the other man’s cheek. “Yeah but you love me anyway.”
They smile at each other before leaning in, pressing their lips together for a passionate kiss. 
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im-not-corrupted · 5 years ago
Text
Safi, No (a Witchlands Fanfiction) - Chapter Eighteen
Written with @un-empressed, who wrote Safi’s POV for this chapter.
Read the other chapters here: Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight | Chapter Nine | Chapter Ten | Chapter Eleven | Chapter Twelve | Chapter Thirteen | Chapter Fourteen | Chapter Fifteen | Chapter Sixteen | Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Summary:
Another revenge plan might occur and Iseult has feelings.
Also on Ao3!
Safi came to the conclusion that whatever she did Iseult would support her. She also came to the conclusion that her friend's support was often mocking.
Iseult told her to be nice to her former nemesis, and Safi was. And then Iseult proceeded to mock her for it. Apparently it was worth an I told you so as well. Iseult wasn't usually like that, but it was different when it was just the two of them. Safi knew her friend loved her and didn't mean the insults that could barely even be called that.
As unfair as their playful arguments were towards her, Safi enjoyed them. She didn't enjoy anybody else mocking her, especially because she was an unrecognised genius.
And being so very clever as she was, Safi came to another idea.
Her first plan failed because of faithful (and one not so faithful) friends. And there was only one person annoying enough to drive absolutely everyone away.
Safi didn't say that about a lot of people. Maybe just Corlant and some girl who border line stalked Iseult last year, whatever her name was. But since she didn't know anything about that girl, Corlant was her new target. It was perfect. She wouldn't even need to bribe and corrupt people into it. There wasn't a single person in the school that even tolerated the guy. And Vivia already started with throwing him off the damn table.
Obviously if Vivia joined so would Stix. Safi didn't know if the two were together yet but they would be eventually. That went for Iseult and Aeduan too. As much as her best friend denied it, Safi knew that there was something between them.
And Merik said he and his friends would help out, too. His answer was probably just as sudden as Safi's question, but he said it and she was certainly going to bother him about it for the rest of eternity.
Now that she thought about it, the only person she'd really need to convince was Vaness. She didn't exactly say that she was going soft when it came to the group, nor did she show it in any way, but Safi knew. Call it intuition, or, if you're Vaness, imagination, but Safi knew.
She sent a message into the group chat. Not saying Corlant deserves to be miserable but that's exactly what I'm saying.
Needless to say, everyone agreed.
Well, not really, but in her head they called her a genius.
Iseult: No
Vivia: He deserves it but we're not going to do it
That was really confusing to Safi. Vivia gave her the idea, with her frustrated attack on the world's most useless religious fanatic. Honestly, how anyone could stand the guy was beyond her. Apparently nobody else could understand it either because nobody tolerated him. It took a long time for people to stop coming up to Vivia, calling her their hero.
Safi found the idea of Vivia not participating ridiculous. But you have to! You started it! Come on, it'll be a fun group activity!
Vivia: Maybe I don't want to have fun with this group
Leopold: Ouch
Vaness: She's right, all of you are immature and insufferable
Lev: You say all of you like you aren't the exhausted older sister in this chaotic family
Vaness: Please, you lot aren't nearly pretty enough to be my siblings
Stix: Ouch
Vaness: Especially you
Safi knew that it wasn't really directed at Stix. If anyone else said that the response would have been the same.
So you're all in?
Safi felt like she would probably get yelled at if she said it out loud. Her friends really were lovely. But since they couldn't yell, they sent passive aggressive messages. It was way more entertaining for Safi to see them try to convey their anger without using emojis. She personally overused them, but all the others thought they were overrated. They had a long discussion about it one day, and Safi came to the conclusion that they were all insane. Who didn't like emojis? There were so many, and there were some very unnecessary ones, and some creepy and bizarre ones as well. It was so fun.
Vaness: I am going to have your head. Of course we're not in. If we were in we would've said so. You're insufferable and irresponsible and I haven't the slightest idea as to why I'm even here
Lev: Is somebody going to tell her there's no word count for threats?
Iseult: The word count is under zero. Safi was just joking
Aeduan: Yeah, didn't you know that no one is allowed to call Safi an idiot? Except when Iseult does it, which is completely right
Iseult: Precisely
Safi was definitely not going to let this go in at least the following ten years. It wasn't like she overly liked Aeduan as a person or enjoyed his company too much but Iseult obviously did and Safi, as a good friend, had to show her how perfect they would be together.
But her pride had been a bit wounded because of the complication that her loved best friend could ever call her an idiot. She sent them the middle finger emoji, which resulted in everyone attacking her.
Caden: Not emojis again!
Vaness: Just when I thought this whole conversation couldn't possibly be any more draining
Safi loved seeing them annoyed. She knew for all of Vaness's fancy words that she probably just groaned out loud. Just for the sake of being even more 'draining', Safi changed the name of the group chat.
Bribery And Corruption ⚔🗂
Vaness: Ignoring my obvious obvious dislike of this atrocious title, what is the folder for?
Safi decided to copy Vaness's pretentious messaging style. Our plans! I'm pleased that you think all this genius comes at once but I plan it out. Or rather ✍🏼 it down
Vivia: Must you?
Safi was having so much fun with this. 👍🏻
Caden: You're horrible
That made her laugh out loud.❤ you too
So what do you say? We can 🔪 Corlant ⚔
Stix: What does that second emoji mean?
They were all so uncultured when it came to emojis. Safi had to fix that. Together!!
Vaness: Isn't there an insane person emoji? Because that's what you'll make me by the end of your insane plans
Does that mean you're in?????!!!!!
Vaness: This is the first and last time I'm ever doing this...👍🏻
[x]
Iseult was beginning to wish Safi was joking with the new revenge plan against Corlant, but she knew Safi well enough to know that she wasn't joking about it. Of course she wasn't - she enjoyed the last plan a lot (perhaps too much). Well, she didn't like the apologising part of it, but no one would really make her apologise to Corlant.
She had spent all night watching as more and more notifications came in through the Bribery and Corruption group chat discussing it - Leopold suggesting people push him off more tables, Safi suggesting that simply wasn't enough - and now she was forced to go through it at school, too.
Of course she was. Safi would've begged her to come if she didn't - "We're a whole new team, Iseult!" Safi had said when Iseult had only slightly suggested she wouldn't join in. "You can't just leave now!" Besides, Iseult was curious to see how this larger group worked out - Merik's group and Safi's group was not a thing she had ever imagined together. Mainly because of the revenge plan, to be fair.
Either way, the two groups worked well together. Safi still insulted Merik, but Merik seemed okay with it - in fact, he fired right back at her. Ryber seemed to get along with all of them, and took part in all their conversations and discussions. She was the rational side to the scheming - if a plan wouldn't work, Ryber could tell and would come up with a better one. Vaness still sat there and told them that they were all horrible people, but that was to be expected. Kullen didn't interact as much as she knew Safi hoped he would, but Iseult guessed he was still mad at Stix.
Strangely enough, Stix was no where to be found. Iseult usually noticed her glued to Vivia's side, but not this time. Even Vivia seemed a little down, too - she didn't really participate in any of their group conversations. Iseult was worried about her, but was unsure how to approach her. They didn't talk that much, after all.
Besides, Iseult was a little bit preoccupied with a few other things. Namely, Aeduan. She wasn't sure how he didn't know about Safi and Leopold setting them up - surely it was obvious? Iseult had figured it out in a few minutes!
And she wasn't sure how she felt about Aeduan not knowing, either. He truly believed that Safi and Leopold needed to simply do their own thing, and hadn't left her when they left them. Instead, he had taken her elsewhere - of his own free will. And he didn't have to. He was under no obligation to.
Then again, she was under no obligation to stay when Safi and Leopold's plan had come to light, but she had. Why?
She thought that maybe she enjoyed his company. That was strange, because she didn't enjoy the company of many people. Safi was a given - and that was because Iseult felt like she belonged with Safi, in a way she couldn't quite explain. She tolerated other people's company, and that wasn't quite the same thing.
But she seemed to enjoy Aeduan's. Probably because silence with them wasn't awkward - they both seemed to prefer that to small talk. And Aeduan's stories about Leopold were incredibly amusing, too. Aeduan never made her feel uncomfortable, so that was a plus.
That didn't change the fact that she didn't know what being comfortable around him meant, not really. She wished she did, because feelings were often hard to work through.
Aeduan appeared later that lunch time and sat next to her instantly.
Iseult laughed slightly at his expression that screamed why the hell am I here? "How'd they get you here this time?"
Aeduan waved his phone at her. "Leopold kept sending me messages."
She laughed again. "Poor you."
He sent her a glare. "Don't laugh at me. It's not funny. This was not the reason I gave him my number for!"
"What did you give him your number for, then?" Iseult asked, raising an eyebrow.
That made him pause. "I didn't even mean to."
She snorted. She had heard that story before, yes, but it was still hilarious.
Safi caught her eye and winked at her while gesturing between them. It wasn't even subtle! And when she turned back to Aeduan, she knew he had noticed it.
"Wait," he said. "Is that why she kept looking at us like that? Because she was going to set us up?" Not quite, but it'll do. "Pretty much."
"Oh."
She wasn't sure if that was a good 'oh', and they fell into another silence only disturbed by the Corlant-revenge-plan being discussed around them. Once again, she was struck by how she still felt comfortable with him, even if they weren't saying anything, and wondered if it would be the same as last time if they were alone.
Iseult turned to him suddenly, trying to stop herself from chewing her lip. "Would you like to go somewhere after school?" she asked him. What was the worst that could happen, really?
Aeduan raised an eyebrow. "In what way do you mean?"
"I'm not sure," she admitted.
He seemed to consider for a few seconds, then nodded. "Okay."
She grinned slightly. "Okay."
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divinityslain · 5 years ago
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hey   there   demons   !   tis   i   ,   local   lorekeeper   &   part   -   time   trash   pile   ,   coming   at   ya   to   give   miss   wilhelmina   no   fucken   rights   !   isn’t   that   exciting   ?   click   HERE   for   ur   girl’s   ~   new   ~   pinterest   .   also   this   is   long   .
*   RELIGION   &   TWSITD   &   FOOD   MENT   .
full   name   .
wilhelmina   von   hevring
nicknames   .
mina minnie
birthday   .
october   4
fódlan   birthday   .
4th   of   the   wyvern   moon
age   .
twenty   -   three
height   .
172.72cm   /   5′8″
nationality   .
adrestian
hometown   .
county   of   hevring
residence   .
garreg   mach   monastery
house   .
black   eagles
occupation   .
student   at   the   officers   academy
crests   .
minor   crest   of   cethleann   /   sometimes   raises   mt   when   using   recovery   magic major   crest   of   lamine   /   occasionally   conserves   uses   of   recovery   magic
strengths   .
faith riding lance
weaknesses   .
flying axe brawling
budding   talent   .
reason
classes   .
noble   →   monk   →   priest   →   bishop   →   holy   knight
likes   .
horses tea reading making   people   proud   of   her exploring shopping
dislikes   .
mindless   gossip henrik isolation the   dark heights injustice
interests   .
practicing   magic chatting praying helping   to   restore   the   saint   statues
favorite   meals   .
saghert   and   cream peach   sorbet gronder   meat   skewers vegetable   stir   -   fry
favorite   teas   .
mint   tea angelica   tea
favorite   gifts   .
riding   boots tea   leaves stylish   hair   clip goddess   statuette owl   feather   *   universal   gift
least   favorite   gifts   .
hunting   dagger blue   cheese arithmetic   textbook
favorite   flowers   .
roses forget   -   me   -   nots
lost   items   .
gold   hair   bow heart   -   shaped   locket storybook   about   the   four   saints
relatives   .
lorelei   von   beaumont   (   née   hevring   )   ,   mother unnamed   noble   ,   step   -   father theodore   &   sebastian   von   beaumont   ,   maternal   half   -   brothers jasper   ,   anabel   &   elias   von   beaumont   ,   step   -   cousins
count   hevring   ,   maternal   uncle   &   legal   guardian unnamed   noble   ,   maternal   aunt   &   legal   guardian linhardt   von   hevring   ,   maternal   cousin
count   rowe   ,   father   /   illegitimate   child   of unnamed   noble   ,   step   -   mother viktor   gwendal   rowe   ,   paternal   half   -   brother  johanna   sigrid   gaspard   (   née   rowe   )   ,   paternal   half   -   sister henrik   alphonse   rowe   ,   paternal   half   -   brother astrid   faryse   rowe   ,   paternal   half   -   sister adiel   gwydion   rowe   ,   paternal   half   -   brother nikolai   christophe   blaiddyd   ,   paternal   nephew   /   johanna’s   son
the   product   of   an   affair   between   lorelei   von   hevring   ,   a   noble   from   adrestia   ,   &   the   head   of   house   rowe   in   faerghus   .   obviously   ,   count   rowe   is   already   long   married   with   three   kids   by   the   time   mina   is   conceived   ,   &   lorelei   is   …   in   the   process   of   finding   a   suitable   match   ,   courtesy   of   her   older   brother   &   head   of   house   hevring   ,   so   the   newborn   wasn’t   exactly   welcomed   warmly   .
(   although   ,   not   anything   new   as   nobles   have   been   producing   out   -   of   -   wedlock   children   since   as   long   as   anyone   can   remember   .   )
however   …   the   thing   is   ,   this   whole   ordeal   was   count   rowe’s   plan   all   along   ?   like   ,   none   of   his   current   children   are   crest   -   bearers   .   lorelei   comes   from   a   respected   family   ,   one   that   notably   has   a   strong   bloodline   to   keep   crests   alive   .   put   two   &   two   together   ,   makes   sense   ,   right   ?   once   the   child   shows   signs   of   possessing   a   crest   ,   he   would   take   them   off   her   hands   …   you   know   ,   since   having   a   child   in   such   a   way   would   arguably   look   worse   for   her   than   for   him   !   &   said   child   was   supposed   to   become   his   true   heir   to   the   rowe   territory   . 
WELL   !   too   bad   for   him   ,   lorelei   cut   ties   .   a   new   husband   ,   she   said   in   letters   that   are   now   burned   &   forgotten   .   little   did   he   know   ,   it   was   because   she   was   expecting   &   didn’t   want   him   to   know   .   fearful   for   what   may   happen   ,   unaware   of   his   true   intent   .
4th   of   the   wyvern   moon   ;   the   day   wilhelmina   von   hevring   came   into   the   very   world   that   will   become   so   cruel   .   a   premeditated   accident   ,   that’s   what   she   was   .   although   her   uncle   had   plans   .   people   who   would   take   away   the   burden   he   promised   to   keep   a   secret   ,   until   it   suited   him   .   alas   ,   lorelei   wouldn’t   part   from   her   daughter   so   quickly   .   it   would   take   about   four   years   of   mina   living   in   the   hevring   estate   for   lorelei   to   grow   distant   ,   more   focused   on   her   new   children   with   her   new   husband   in   a   completely   different   territory   in   adrestia   .   it   was   then   she   would   be   discreetly   removed   from   the   household   ,   much   to   her   confusion   as   she   would   grip   onto   her   uncle’s   hand   .
those   who   slither   in   the   dark   .   vile   ,   uncaring   ,   harshness   ;   result   orientated   .   mages   would   spend   two   years   testing   &   experimenting   on   mina   —   crestology   ,   implanting   a   crest   stone   into   a   body   seeing   if   it’s   compatible   .   a   lot   of   their   prior   experiments   failed   ,   but   a   strong   select   few   survived   for   awhile   .
 just   shy   of   over   the   two   years   ,   the   mages   of   those   who   slither   noted   many   different   stages   of   progress   .   initially   unaware   wilhelmina   already   bore   a   crest   ,   a   minor   of   cethleann   –   they   saw   as   she   activated   it   for   the   first   time   during   a   trial   .   a   welcomed   addition   to   their   studies   !   but   of   course   she   was   miserable   &   terrified   .   yet   even   so   ,   she   remained   hopeful   .   hopeful   that   this   would   be   over   soon   —   silent   prayers   to   the   goddess   fell   from   her   trembling   ,   cracked   lips   ,   over   &   over   .   a   little   after   she   turned   six   ,   her   desperate   prayers   were   answered   .   the   mages   successfully   in   giving   her   a   new   crest   :   a   major   crest   of   lamine   .   although   as   they   have   seen   in   the   past   ,   the   stress   of   twin   crests   caused   strain   on   her   small   body   ,   causing   her   hair   to   turn   white   (   although   ,   leaving   a   vaguely   blonde   undertone   –   perhaps   homage   to   lamine   herself   )   &   shortened   lifespan   .   that   …   left   them   bored   &   itching   to   move   on   to   the   next   ,   as   the   cycle   repeated   .
after   dropping   a   slumbering   ,   dirty   &   worn   -   out   mina   back   to   the   county   of   hevring   ,   &   a   brief   meeting   with   her   uncle   explaining   the   results   of   the   experimentation   ,   they   departed   within   the   shadows   once   more   .   so   idk   fast   forward   a   few   months   ,   she’s   still   six   &   still   clinging   to   the   teachings   of   seiros   &   the   four   saints   .   she   even   saved   up   enough   money   for   a   storybook   .   her   uncle   trained   her   in   secret   ,   unwilling   to   yet   show   her   twin   crests   to   the   rest   of   the   empire   ,   &   mina   did   her   goddamn   best   to   make   him   proud   !!   like   little   baby   ..   really   ..   was   embodiment   of   pleading   emoji   .   &   alright   count   hevring   was   using   her   from   day   1   but   …..   would   be   lying   if   he   didn’t   get   even   slightly   attached   after   all   the   time   he   inevitably   spent   with   her   lmao   .
once   she   gained   an   understanding   of   how   to   not   randomly   activate   her   crests   ,   her   uncle   took   her   to   enbarr   to   introduce   to   the   imperial   family   .   at   almost   seven   ,   she   didn’t   understand   the   weight   of   the   situation   .   there   he   showed   her   off   to   the   emperor   &   subsequently   ,   his   sons   .   a   choice   between   eric   &   wilhelm   ,   &   the   latter   was   chosen   .   wilhelm   &   wilhelmina   were   engaged   ,   all   because   count   hevring   pulled   the   ‘   my   niece   has   two   crests   &   your   son   has   none   ’   card   ..   huh   ..   that   really   was   the   selling   point   .   (   of   course   it   was   still   kept   hush   ,   those   who   slither   in   the   dark   didn’t   want   to   be   discovered   so   quickly   .   the   emperor   ,   despite   finding   it   a   strange   occurrence   ,   didn’t   question   it   …   lmao   little   did   he   fucken   know   !!   )
during   her   time   in   enbarr   ,   mina   stumbled   across   …   a   certain   boy   ,   unbeknownst   to   her   at   the   time   ,   her   step   -   cousin   jasper   .   now   his   father   ,   being   able   to   make   the   connection   once   he   hears   her   name   being   called   by   hevring   ,   went   to   lorelei   afterwards   &   was   like   ,   hey   so   go   back   to   your   daughter   ,   she’s   betrothed   to   one   of   the   imperial   princes   ,   that   could   be   of   use   to   us   ,   etc   .   etc   .   &   like   ,   well   ,   she   did   .   mina   ,   after   years   of   being   estranged   from   her   mother   ,   was   swaddled   up   quickly   in   an   embrace   under   a   false   guise   of   genuine   wish   to   reconnect   .   she   felt   odd   seeing   her   daughter   with   a   hair   color   so   foreign   ,   but   as   the   shitty   adults   do   ,   she   doesn’t   make   a   note   of   it   .   mina   was   introduced   officially   to   all   of   her   step   -   cousins   ,   as   well   as   her   own   half   -   brothers   .   truthfully   she   tried   her   best   to   connect   with   them   all   ,   but   the   only   one   who   stuck   was   jasper   .   not   that   she   minded   —   despite   all   the   negativity   surrounding   him   ,   she   still   saw   the   good   .   she   always   did   . 
years   later   &   more   tragedy   struck   the   empire   .   the   insurrection   of   the   seven   ,   a   soft   coup   ;   her   uncle   participated   in   stealing   power   from   the   emperor   –   the   individual   she   came   to   know   more   personally   as   her   future   father   -   in   -   law   .   &   then   ……..   it   happened   .   three   years   after   the   insurrection   ,   wilhelm   (   +   the   other   imperial   children   )   were   just   .   gone   ?   no   one   spoke   about   them   ,   &   she   would   be   scolded   each   time   she   brought   it   up   .   her   uncle   was   tense   ,   perhaps   due   to   the   arrangement   that   the   emperor   literally   was   unable   to   break   ,   but   mina   once   more   turned   back   to   the   church   for   solace   .   edelgard   came   back   eventually   ,   white   hair   similar   to   her   own   ,   but   none   of   her   siblings   followed   ,   so   mina   mourned   for   them   in   silence   .
years   &   years   past   &   her   uncle   started   up   a   search   for   a   new   husband   ;   while   she   moved   on   from   wilhelm   ,   he’ll   still   be   in   her   memory   &   heart   .   even   when   her   heart   attached   itself   to   randolph   ,   &   they   slowly   started   courting   ,   despite   her   uncle   strongly   advising   her   against   it   .......   idk   they   been   together   for   awhile   now   technically   ?
ok   so   personality   basically   ,   she   is   beagles   mom   !   very   …   i   would   say   naive   ,   because   how   she   doesn’t   realize   98%   of   her   family   is   using   her   ,   but   ..   but   like   .   she’s   !!!   embodiment   of   honey   &   wildfire   are   both   golden   ,   softness   is   not   weakness   .   she   is   also   a   horse   girl   so   jot   that   down   ,   you   know   ?   find   her   in   the   stables   pretty   often   .   mina’s   uno   reverse   edelgard   in   the   sense   that   while   edelgard   is   angry   at   the   society   they   live   in   /   the   church   +   goddess   +   crest   systems   ,   etc   .   mina   ??   doesn’t   hold   any   hatred   for   what   happened   to   her   .   it’s   more   like   ,   she’s   going   to   take   her   trauma   &   do   the   absolutely   best   she   can   because   if   she   lets   it   go   to   waste   then   all   of   what   she   went   through   would’ve   been   for   nothing   &   she   can’t   let   that   happen   .
she   agrees   with   edelgard’s   position   of   how   crests   shouldn’t   dictate   the   way   people   live   ,   but   also   she   still   has   her   faith   ??   like   ..   *   channels   all   the   cf   endings   that   have   the   church   being   rebuilt   despite   under   supervision   ..   bc   she   wld   have   helped   *
uh   idk   if   any   of   this   intro   makes   sense   but   like   here   we   are   babies   !!   i   am   tired   &   have   three   more   to   write   so   i   am   ….   TIRED   .
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whitestonetherapy · 5 years ago
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Negativity... (2.9.19)
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If you're anything like me, you'll know that sometimes your mind can be your own worst enemy.  
Most of us have times that our mind can't settle - times when we're prone to making just about every 'thinking error' in the book.  Catastrophising, jumping to worst conclusions, making generalisations that are unhelpful, being highly self-critical etc.  We might find ourselves increasingly focusing on the negative side of life and feeling pessimistic.  
When this happens we'll often give more thought to negative situations in our lives.  We might think of all the things that could go wrong at work next month, or dwell on the times we've been treated badly in the past.  Then it's easy to get stuck in a loop of unhelpful thinking.  Roughly speaking, when you focus on the negative, your mood becomes lower, and so you focus more on the negative things. Boom...
The human brain has an inbuilt bias that tends to veer towards focusing on 'negatives', and this is just part of how the human brain seems to work.  We also have a tendency to notice the bits of information that support our state of mind (and so 'the way we see the world').  This means, for example, that if we are in a bad mood we're more likely to remember any unfriendly interactions when we visit our local town.  Dwelling on these unfriendly interactions will reinforce our low mood and may reinforce an idea that "other people are rude to me", and over time this becomes a fixed prediction for how people are likely to treat me in future.  (And so our negative predictions begin to colour future interactions).  
In scenarios like this, friendly social interactions are more likely to be ignored, and we'll assign more focus and attention to the negative experiences we have.  These become 'proof' of our theory about others.
This kind of inbuilt cognitive bias plays a big part in therapy too.  In therapy sessions sometimes people will say "I want to be happy" - something I can definitely understand.  But it is a fact that our brains are not evolved to produce happiness but to focus on survival.  Problem-solving has been the chief concern of the human brain for all of our evolutionary history.  The main goal of the brain is to solve potential problems, to automate tasks and take the need for conscious thinking out of as many of our daily tasks as possible, and to make 'predictions' to ensure we survive.  
This means we have natural default settings in our minds that ensure we allocate much more attention to problems than we do to situations which go according to plan.  It is because of this tendency to focus on solving problems (above, say, counting our blessings), that our perceptions of the world can become quite skewed, often to the pessimistic side of things.  
Hans Rosling (a Swedish researcher) quite famously demonstrated this tendency in a piece of research in 2013.  His research asked the question:  " Has the percentage of the world population that lives in extreme poverty almost doubled, almost halved or stayed the same over the past 20 years?"   Only 5% of respondents correctly answered that poverty has actually halved.  Our bias towards pessimism or a negative appraisal of situations sometimes means we can be really, really wrong...  In fact, this is the case with almost every quality-of-life metric.  Things have improved so much in the last fifty years, and yet the sense of pessimism remains high.
Like moths to a flame, we seem to be particularly drawn to 'problems' in all forms.  In 2014 a study at McGill University examined people's consumption of written news media and looked at the stories participants chose to read in what they thought was an eye-tracking experiment.  What the results showed was that even the participants who said they wanted more good news stories were much more drawn to 'negative news content'.  And in the absence of any sizeable problems, our minds will often work overtime to create some new ones - to find some new angle, some new (hitherto unimportant) issue on which to rest our attention and focus our concerns.  
This is partly due to "prevalence-induced concept change", a theory that suggests that as the prevalence of a problem is reduced, humans are naturally inclined to redefine and broaden the nature of 'problems' themselves.   This means that as things improve all around us, our definition of 'bad news' is just widened to find new things that are bad to report on.  We recast our 'problems' and simply discover a load more of them.  I suppose this is far more common in the developed, capitalist, liberal West  (where to some extent the 'problems' that have made life miserable for countless generations before the last several have now been solved) than in developing nations.  And so we see a recasting of 'problems' in new and unresolvable directions, one example being the current obsessional focus on 'identity politics'. Closer to home, I recently spent many hours looking at YouTube reviews for a new iPhone, obsessing about a choice between LCD or OLED screens as though something serious depended on my choice (both screens are far better than anything remotely possible even five years ago - and both are effectively identical to the normal eye).  Perhaps it fills the time in the absence of survival-critical problems...
We are also subject to something called "availability bias".  This bias was noted in a study by Tversky and Kahneman in the 1970's, whereby respondents seriously overestimated the frequency of crime, due to the overwhelming reporting of crime on the news.  Random violence or sudden, explosive bad things make the news because they shock and happen suddenly.  Good news - such as acts of kindness - are common and tend to form part of the clement background conditions in which life unfolds.  The good news doesn't have the power to make a sudden splash that changes perceptions that, say, warfare, accidents or disasters have.  Bad news is sudden and explosive, and so is exaggerated in our minds.  Real tragedies are thankfully rare, but never in history has each tragedy had such global coverage.
So, bad news arrives in ways that are far more eye-catching than good news. Then our mind focuses on problem-solving in ways that exclude more positive appraisals of the situation.  In evolutionary terms, it simply makes sense for us to dwell more on risks.
Add to this that people tend to think in relative and not absolute terms.  It matters how you are doing compared to others around you, far more than it matters how you are doing in a general sense.  This is why, whatever goal we reach, we experience a short burst of euphoria before quickly resetting and then taking for granted our new situations. It's why, for example, acquiring a new car only brings temporary satisfaction, before the problem becomes, say, a small scratch we've noticed on the rear bumper.  It's why a big promotion and pay rise quickly leads to wondering whether the person next to you was given an even bigger pay rise.  When things get better in our lives, this relativizing behaviour means we quickly reset our expectations and focus on the next set of problems.
During my years trading derivatives, I remember we would leave the trading floor and go to one of the pubs in Leadenhall Market after the close of the trading day.  One topic always came up - "losing trades".  You'll always find traders talking at great length about losing trades.  In fact, many traders remember their losing trades and losing days for far longer than they remember profitable days.  It's the days that everything goes against you that stick in your mind.
This is a long way round of saying that it's actually very hard to overcome your tendency to dwell on the negative side of things!  People often say "I don't want to feel so negative about everything", and it's useful to understand that your brain is doing what it is evolved to do.  
But this can be debilitating if it runs unchecked.  We can try and counter this tendency and bring some balance to our inner-lives, and it is possible to take steps in this direction.   There's lots of way of approaching this, but here are some questions you can ask yourself if you find yourself stuck in a cycle of negative thinking.  You can check your thinking by asking:
Where is the evidence for my belief(s)?
What impact is this way of thinking having on me?
Am I jumping to conclusions?
Is there any evidence to disprove my belief?
Am I concentrating on my weaknesses, and neglecting my strengths?
Am I taking things too personally?
Am I thinking in all-or-nothing terms?
Am I overstating the chances of something bad happening?
Am I predicting the outcome instead of experimenting with it?
Am I expecting total perfection?
Am I being open to evidence that 'disproves' my worst fears?
If I had to come up with a more balanced/helpful belief, what would this belief be?
If you have a problem situation in your life, you can try sitting down somewhere and taking twenty minutes to write out answers to these questions.  Really explore your own style of thinking.  If you spend some time doing this, you'll begin to condition yourself to avoid getting stuck in a spiral of negative thinking and hopefully more able to take a balanced view of your life.
www.whitestonetherapy.com
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pinashple · 6 years ago
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It’s 3:44 in the morning, and I started crying.
At random times, unpredictable and possibly not even triggered by a specific event, my mind starts wandering. It wanders to the furthest reaches, the deepest recesses of my memories that I have consistently tried to block and bury from resurfacing...
Just so I can be happy in my life.
I’ve been surrounded by so much negativity. I’ve been subjected to so much negativity. So much negativity has been projected on me, and this started at eleven years old. Some of it from classmates, or so called friends, and failed relationships...but most of it has been, because of my family. Or more specifically- my father.
I grew up with a father who was volatile. He was toxic. He was abusive- emotionally, at first, physically came next, and then assumed a verbal role as well. More times than not, all of this was directed towards me.
My father was unhappy with my mother in their marriage- I happened to be born the year before they tied the knot. I still believe they stayed together to have that picture perfect-esque family, and I suffered the most from it.
My father suffered the repercussions of the stock market crash in the 2000s- I was forced to get a job the day of my 16th birthday, and then pay for my own stuff, including the $490 for driver’s ed that he- once again- forced me to go to. One day on the way back, he made me drive home in a truck I wasn’t comfortable in, yelling at me once again, instead of realizing car accidents are my number one fear in life. I didn’t care to drive; I- to this day, almost 11 years later- still have to keep myself from having a panic attack while driving; I really don’t go anywhere, because of it. 
And even though I went through that experience, and became more comfortable? He wouldn’t let me drive his or my mother’s car after I became comfortable and wanted to hang out with friends. (He also didn’t want me to have friends.) “Accidents can happen, and I’m not trying to risk that.” If my mom would let me go somewhere in her car? While I was out, he would call, and tell me come right back. It didn’t matter if I just got there- I had to come back, and proceeded to get yelled at more. Oh, but if he needed me to go to the store and pick up things for him, he’d let me drive.
During my sixteenth year, I was going through a pretty rough time emotionally; he told me, “I don’t care about your personal life.” 
...Til this day, 11 years later, I haven’t told my dad anything about my personal life.
My father had this vision of what he wanted my life to be, obsessed with monetary gain; I had an opposite mindset, wanting a simpler life, and to be happy, which he did not agree with.
I didn’t get a senior year, because of my father: I missed two assignments in an AP class, and though I had a high B, I was put on punishment for the entire semster...and it was only the fourth week in August. I lost out on senior activities, because of it. Football games, I didn’t go to, even though I was apart of the spirit squad- one of the few activities I would have loved after the only game I got to participate. I had to beg to go to homecoming, and that was after I had another mental breakdown, trying to confide in him; his solution was I shouldn’t go anywhere outside of the house, unless with family. 
My father is the reason I didn’t get the HOPE scholarship, missing it by a tenth of a point; instead of listening to me when I said I didn’t understand calculus, he claimed I wasn’t using my “full potential”-
It was the first math class I EVER failed in 13 years of grade school. (I always had As and high Bs). This came after I got cursed at, spit on while being cursed at; my phone taken, and put on punishment yet again for the remainder of the school year, and a phone a friend gave me shattered right in front of me, because “give me the fucking phone.”
I almost didn’t even graduate high school with a College Prep Diploma, and had to bust my ass taking a second homeschool math class to make up the credit; he then had to expedite the grading results, so I could.
I was forced to go to college three hours away with no job, no money, and no car, because the school I wanted to go to, he wouldn’t even pay the application fee for me. “I’ll pay for any other school- not that one, though.” You know what? I had the worst experience of my life at that school after four months of being there; it sent me into a downward spiral, emotionally lost and confused, I called home having another mental breakdown, and was thankfully able to come home...
I would regret that.
My father took the opportunity to blame me for the “lack of cleanliness” and the “peace being disturbed in the house” as soon as I got home, though I was taking the train to get to school downtown and had a part time job. I was rarely home, and if I was, I stayed in my room. I only “made a mess”, because when I left for college the first time, they no longer had one person to clean a family of five’s worth of dishes after dinner. A family of five’s laundry to wash and fold. A family of five’s bathrooms to clean- he no longer had a maid when I left. They had to clean for themselves those four months I was gone; they attempted to stop once I came back.
The “peace in the house being disturbed”? Simply because I was there. You know that saying, “out of sight, out of mind?” Didn’t work for my father, when it came to me. I may have been out of sight, but he knew I was there; that was enough for him.
I thought getting a car would help me stay out more; without knowing that, he found me one. I was so happy; it was mine, I could go when I wanted, come when I wanted, and not have to hear anyone’s mouth. I had a job; I had to pay my own insurance and car note, so nothing could be said, right?
He gave me a curfew. I had never had a curfew, especially not at 19, until I got my own car. Ironic. If he didn’t know I came home, and was in my room in the basement? I’d get calls. Okay.
I had a cell phone; I ended up falling on hard times at my job, and asked my mom to loan me money for the bill- she called my dad. I then got a reality check that my car was actually not mine, and it was his, and my car note I had been working to pay was me paying back a loan to him.
He never told me that when I first signed the papers, and because I was “paying him back”:
“If you come asking me for money for the note or the insurance, it’s gone.”
Til this day, nine years later, and even before then since sixteen- I haven’t asked my dad for any type of help financially.
I’d always been silenced; never been able to stand up for myself. Never been listened to, and never been comforted. 
I’d been beat with belts since middle school; put on whole semester punishments since the seventh grade- no phone, no tv, no computer and the like over a missed assignment, and in some cases, for having a B. I’d been chokeheld in high school; yelled at on any random occasion for whatever reason he was upset with. I’ve been chased up the stairs just so I could be beat relentlessly after trying to defend myself. And in 2010, I was slammed on the kitchen floor, to the kitchen counter, to the dishwasher, being screamed “I’m gonna kill you” at for letting two pots dry in the sink. 
I left in November of 2010. 
There’s so much more to this story...but at the end of the day, I spent majority of my early-mid twenties a broken...mess. My mom has been present my entire life; she turned a blind eye to it all to keep her own peace...sided along with him a number of times, to keep her own peace with him. 
As a result? I let people treat me how they wanted to, and stayed around, because I didn’t want to be alone. I contemplated suicide, but was too afraid to take my own life. I made horrible decisions for someone my age at that time, and looked for some type of love and belonging somewhere. I spent majority of my early adulthood depressed; nothing EVER worked out for me. I have anxiety, because of it. I have paranoia, because of it. I’ve woken up sweating, breathing hard, and heart racing from nightmare about my father trying to hurt me. My mind has always gone to the worst thing possible first, because for all that time in my life, I was miserable- truthfully and honestly miserable. Felt worthless. A waste of a life. Cursed. Doomed. Anything negative you can say and feel about yourself, that was me.
Why did I type all of this? Mostly for venting, because I currently live in a household with my father now. Things may not be as horrible as they were before- horrible at all- and only, because he “learned from his mistakes”. I don’t benefit from it; I still can’t ask for help financially, because in his words:
“You got a partner for that.”
I couldn’t even ask him about getting me a deal on a new phone; my family is on a shared plan, and everyone has gotten 2 new phones since 2014- I’ve had the same one...since 2014. He didn’t even give me the opportunity to say “I’m going to pay for it,” before my partner’s name shot out his mouth. I’m no longer his responsibility, in other words. Oh...but my sister’s are living the champagne lifestyle from what he “learned” with all his “mistakes” with me, and I just have to...accept it.
Why else did I type all of this? Because I realized while I was laying down why I’m so afraid I won’t get anywhere with my art career. It takes people acknowledging you, wanting to connect with you, give you a chance, and valuing your work that gets you somewhere...
My issues with my father- somewhere in me- makes me feel like that will NEVER happen for me. If I suffered so much from someone who was supposed to protect and provide, love and care for...cherish me? 
How could I expect anyone else to do that? 
It’s hard to stay positive...but one thing I will say-
I refuse to let my past win. I wish I could talk and get the closure I always hoped to have, but that is more of a pipe dream than me winning the lottery. Every attempt I’ve made resulted in, “you made it hard on yourself.”
I don’t think anyone who is as shy, insecure, and self conscious as I was in those years could possibly make all the trauma they endured brought on by “themself”; they got taken advantage of, and it shows...
But I’m praying that I can let all of this go. I pray that I can do what I love. I pray that I can have my career. I pray that I can start driving with confidence. I pray that I can be positive. I pray that I can be myself, and be loved for myself. I pray that I can be understood. I pray that I can be happy...
It’s all I’ve ever wanted in life. /4:53am
PS. If you read this? Do not reblog it; it’ll more than likely be private by tomorrow.
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xaibaugrove · 7 years ago
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The Importance of Platonic Borra
Yet again, I personally identify with this relationship that was sadly only really given the attention it deserved in Book 1 and merely hinted at in later seasons. But Platonic Borra is so important to me and I feel could have been important to so many others for reasons I would like to cover here. 
Watching the interactions between Korra and Bolin was very strange to me initially and for the longest I couldn’t put my finger on it until about my 3rd rewatch as an adult and that’s when it hit me. It was totally deja vu. This was my high school experience playing out in an animated format. 
I feel like I’m not alone in this, and that there are a few queer women who had a Bolin (close guy friend) in their lives who eventually ended up catching feelings because we’re “not like the other girls”.
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I was always considered “down to earth” and at the time I had no idea why I behaved the way I did and how my mannerisms portrayed my queerness, I just went about my business and found that I related so much more to guys than girls my age but thought nothing of it. I always felt super awkward around pretty girls (Korra actively avoiding Asami throughout the first part of B1 applies so heavily) so I gravitated toward the company of boys as I felt so much less pressure in those situations, especially with boys I felt no attraction towards. 
Things would go great…in the beginning. I’d instantly hit it off with this boy who I didn’t feel inadequate in front of because I wasn’t interested in him romantically and said boy would be an overall kind, interesting, funny person who I could openly joke and just plain hang out with. No pressure implied. 
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A breath of fresh air, a stark contrast from the stifling nature of the high school hierarchy. We could sit and talk video games, good music and everything else under the sun and I felt so comfortable just being myself that I didn’t notice my close friend falling for me somewhere along the line.
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You can’t help who you like. And that’s okay. 
But it happens. And that’s when things go south real quick. It might start with a random Valentine’s Day gift that seemingly comes out of nowhere, even if there are some romantic implications dropped beforehand, you never see it because you’re so committed to maintaining the friendship that you might even outright deny it, even when your close friend is shoving it right in your face. 
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Please love me!
You go so far as to actively ignore it or brush it aside in favor of just keeping the good times going, loathe to bring the awkward conversation into the mix. You keep putting it off and putting it off until you unknowingly end up in a predicament that results in your close friend finding out in the worst way that it’s just not going to happen.
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My close guy friends even now in adulthood usually always end up falling for me in some way, and I’ve come to expect it now, but it took until only a couple years ago for me to come to the realization that I didn’t have to like them back. I wasn’t obligated to just because we had a lot in common and he was really nice to me and appreciated my “unique” personality. 
But if I wasn’t attracted to them, I just wasn’t attracted to them and there was nothing wrong with that. I wasn’t short sighted for liking the tall, handsome athlete over my close friend and it didn’t make me superficial for not noticing my own Bolin right in front of me. 
You don’t owe anyone anything.
What I want to say here is that the depiction of this in LOK is sooo helpful for younger queer girls dealing with the same issues and wondering if they’re just stuck up or worse, superficial (ugh) for not being interested in their close buddy who gives them all the attention in the world that they don’t really need because the connection is Just Not There. And it doesn’t have to be. 
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Implying that cool women with bumbling, plucky sidekick guy friends who worship the ground they walk on have to end up falling for him or else there’s no character growth for her is a dangerous trope that’s been so overdone in animation ad nauseum that even I believed it a majority of my life. So seeing LOK subvert this narrative in addition to many others gave me a newfound appreciation for this series, as if I didn’t appreciate it enough. I just wish I had noticed it sooner, as it would have saved me a lot of headaches and wasted time thrusting myself into relationships with close guy friends that were doomed from the start because I was forcing myself to participate in this ridiculous expectation.
It’s just not productive, and you end up wasting time on both your parts. I went almost a whole year being with someone I felt zero attraction toward. It sucked and was a miserable experience. 10/10 would not recommend. 
I would’ve liked to see Bolin and Korra hanging out like buddies again and establishing a bro-ship so strong that Bolin becomes sort of a confidant for her. I would’ve loved to see them have a moment during the last episode instead of Wu taking up all that kind of unnecessary last minute screentime. 
But, regrets aside, I love Bryke for this writing right here. Because it is very crucial for young girls, queer or not, to know that being a woman is hard enough without having to be judged for your preferences by anyone. You can be a regular teenage girl and go after the uninterested jock if you want. And you can have nice, fulfilling relationships with boys that aren’t romantic in any way. Don’t let anyone micro-manage your attractions. You are free to just be. And even if you have to sadly sever some cool friendships along the way and sift through the jerks, eventually you find a Bolin and you can cherish that relationship for just how pure and wholesome and important it is to have in life. 
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buzzings · 3 years ago
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letter no. 3
i never thought i would see for myself those two shiny, gold numbers floating around in the bouquet of balloons. but they were there, and i saw them; i was the one who put them there.
i say that i never thought i would see this age for two reasons:
the first reason is i lived in an abusive home for twenty-three years, and i couldn't conceive of ever having a life outside of that household, which i knew (arbitrarily) would have to happen by at least age twenty-five. i was raised by a narcissist who ignored my needs and forced me into a state of dependence in favor of her own grandiosity, even though she was adamant that i was at fault, and it was just that i was too lazy and ungrateful to change it. it was through sheer luck and circumstance—and with a lot of help from my friends—that i managed to claw my way out, and i've been away from her for nearly two years now.
the second reason is mostly as a result of the first, but i didn't think i would live this long. i didn't know when or how or why, but ever since i can remember, i had recurring thoughts that i would simply have stopped existing by now. i've had my share of near-death experiences, whether that be from parental neglect, personal negligence, or random happenstance. a lot of my memory is lost or hazy due to the aforementioned household, but the most recent, notable chunk of it is college. i remember most of my freshman year, and then almost none of the rest except for a handful of traumatic stretches of time (usually toward the middle and end of every semester). i thought i was living my best life, so to speak, because that's what everyone told me i was supposed to be doing. however, it was a four-and-a-half-year-long dissociative episode, during which i contemplated more than once walking out the front door of my off-campus apartment and lying in wait on the train tracks beside my complex. perhaps it was a lack of conviction or an abundance of fear of the unknown (or both), but i really couldn't say why i didn't do it.
it's strange. for one, the passage of time itself. for another, the way i have dreamt of and fought hard to be this age for as long as i can remember, yet it's nothing like i had imagined.
in high school, i would scroll through countless apartment websites during math class and daydream of twenty-five (the age i always associated with full independence). living in a nice, clean, modern apartment in a big city (it was always washington, dc), with a blooming career and vibrant social life (both of which were always completely vague in my mind but still appealing). very sex and the city, very the devil wears prada.
in reality, it is more broad city, hold the city.
at twenty-five, i live in a suburban two-bedroom apartment with my cat, two roommates, and their cat, hamster, two guinea pigs, and leopard gecko. my friends are mostly younger than me, which i didn't expect but rather enjoy; we get to help each other grow up while still getting to participate in youthful shenanigans. i don't have the office job of which i fantasized, and i can't say i'd even want it if i did (growing up, the adults around me told me i could be anything, and then proceeded to box me into a life of student debt and a terrible job market, which is miserable enough without the stress of keeping up corporate appearances just for the approval of people outside the situation). i work a low-paying, entry-level food-service job at a company which one could describe as the amalgamation of east coast bustle and fast food. it is thankless and not-at-all-glamorous or anything to boast about, but it is a job that pays me enough to live, covers my healthcare, and lets me enjoy my life as much as i can within the means i have been given. i am comfortable, and i am loved, and that's really all that matters.
this past year has felt like six. i lost one of my uncles, and then lost my last living grandparent not even a month later. her funeral was a disaster, and not only because the wrong burial plot had been excavated. i was broke and struggling to pay my bills for over half the year, and my SNAP benefit eligibility was revoked because i made just $37 over the income limit. i lost my wallet during my birthday trip to atlantic city. i ran out of forbearance time on my private student loans, which meant i had to figure out how to pay $800 a month on top of everything else. more often than not, i was not sober simply for the fact that i was depressed and had nothing better to do.
but this last year has also been the kindest to me. i held down a job. i saw a dentist for the first time in five years, and i only had one cavity. my friend's parents helped me get my car inspected and let me use their tools/garage to learn how to change my inner tie rods by myself (her dad also found my wallet). i saw the jonas brothers in concert, which is something i've wanted to do since i was eight. i was diagnosed with adhd and prescribed medications that have drastically increased my quality of life. i became eligible for workplace benefits. i met one of my best friends for the first time since we met online 7 years ago. i started writing a novel, and just surpassed 25K words in the first draft. my cat turned one.
to be clear, i'm not writing all this for pity or as a cry for help. this is a celebration; despite all the suffering and listlessness that i'd endured for the majority of my life, the clock struck midnight on january 1st, and i made it to twenty-five. here's to twenty-five more.
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danganronpa-paradox · 6 years ago
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CHAPTER 1 - 018
After talking to everyone with Hitomi, we decided to follow Midori to the rec room. She said there were some people discussing the… recent events, so we figured we’d go check it out and see what the general consensus on how we should deal with this is.
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There were about 5 other people in the rec room when we went in -- Naomasa, Naoto, Mitsunari, Taiyou and Keiji. That meant that half of us were discussing the motive in the rec room. Midori closed the door behind us, and we walked over to the others. Naomasa was the first to speak.
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“Lovely of you to join us, ladies.”
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“Hey there! Matsuba mentioned this to us, so we figured we’d drop by.”
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“Yeah, we were just talking about the… y’know.”
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“Yes. That.”
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“We set this up so we could touch base with each other, and make sure there wasn’t anything concerning about these forums.”
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“I am a bit concerned about the others who didn’t show up though…”
The others who didn’t show up… that’d be Yuu, Hitoshi, Haruka, Naomi, Asahi, Yuki, Kasumi and Kotori. We talked to 2 of them, and we tried to talk to Kotori, but she was talking to someone else. I wondered what was up with the other 5?
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“Well, what’s important now is the people who did show up.”  
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“Guess so. We’re just talkin’ ‘bout these bullshit forums. Where did that fucker even get these from? Did he really take’em from the school?”
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“He said that he did, but given his nature, I don’t really think we can trust what he says.”
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“So, what do we do? Just… Hmmm… Anyone got any ideas?”
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“Well, like Oxford Blue over there said, we’ve just been tellin’ each other what’s on our forums to make sure nobody’s like, a serial killer, or somethin’.” That was an… interesting way to put it.
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“Oh, alright then. I didn’t really see anything noteworthy on mine, unless you count some broken bones from rough soccer matches as something noteworthy.”
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“I-I can confirm that! I, um, I got your forum, Kurosawa.”
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“Ah, that’s right! We all get two forums, I forgot.” How did I forget that? Get it together, Ichigo.
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“So, do we just… go around the circle then…?”
Hitomi was next.
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“Well, um… I was born with transverse deficiency... basically, I’m missing my left leg.”
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“And as a result of that, I’ve been wearing a prosthetic for most of my life.” She lifted her skirt a bit to show the others her leg.
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“...”
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“...”
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“Damn…”
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”...Can’t imagine how tough that is… only havin’ one leg and havin’ to walk around with another that ain’t really yours…”
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“Well, I guess it is kinda yours ‘cuz you own it, but it ain’t really yours cuz it’s… a fake leg… y’know what I mean.”
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“Yeah… I get it.”
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“...Thank you for sharing. Yamazaki? Taiyou said she received your forum as well, but is there something you’d like to share with us?”
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“Well, there is the reason I was scouted into Hope’s Peak in the first place…”
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“In school, my average grade for math assignments and tests currently sits at 100, and it’s sat there ever since they started keeping track of my averages. My averages in subjects that involve a lot of math like science are also in the high ninetys.”
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“The school board was baffled by how this was possible, and some of my teachers thought I was cheating. So when I was about thirteen, I was sent on a plane to the University of Tokyo, where I was tasked with solving 10 of the university’s most difficult math problems, while being watched by some of the professors to make sure I wasn’t cheating, because they didn’t believe that I could do it either. Joke’s on them, because I managed to solve them all correctly and flawlessly in precisely six minutes and thirty-eight seconds.”
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“They still didn’t believe it, so they took me to get an IQ test. I scored 166. That’s when I hit the news, and Hope’s Peak eventually found out about me, and put me into their Super Junior High School Level Divison, and after that... here I am now.”
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“Wow… that’s impressive!” Of course, he had already told me this information, but it was still crazy knowing a person as smart as he was!
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“Whoa! You’re, like, one of the smartest people out there, and you’re only in high school!”
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“He’s right! And with that IQ… you’re a literal genius!”
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“Aw, c’mon, it’s not that special.”
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“You’ve been a Hope’s Peak student for years, and you’re the guy who scored 166 on his IQ test when he was thirteen. I wouldn’t call that ‘not special’! Who knows what your IQ is now?”
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“She’s got a point! Mitsunari’s already told me that there’s nothing he wants to share, so it’s my turn!”
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“Really, the only interesting thing on here is that I’ve been playing in the band since I was thirteen. Keiji?”
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“...Nothing really on mine.”
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“Keiji, I got your forum. I know.”
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“...Okay, fine, I’ll spill.”
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“...We yarnbombed an entire park in the dead of night. Me and my knitting group.”
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“You did what.”
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“It was really fun! It was part of an event that we were participating in centered around art, so it was perfectly legal.”
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“Why would they put that on your forum?”
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“It was part of the reason I was scouted. They wanted someone from that group, and since I was the only one still in high school, they chose me!”
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“Haha! You’re pretty wild, Thistle!”
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“There ain’t too much on mine, ‘cept for the fact that I apparently grew an inch since they filled this out.”
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“Alright then. Matsuba, you’re our last one!”
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“O-Oh, me? Hehe, um, well…”
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“Y-Y’know how Monomage said that some of us might be keeping secrets about our talents…?”
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“Yeah, what about that?”
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“Well…”
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“...”
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“!!!”
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“???”
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“Lil’ Candytuft… yer a-”
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“Yes. I am.”
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“Midori is… not real. She’s just one of the many identities I have assumed while going undercover. Everything you see on me is fake. The clothes, the hair, the makeup, the contacts, everything.”
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“But… why’dja go undercover as a chocolatier?”
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“You wouldn’t believe what some people put in those chocolates.”
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“...Jesus Christ.”
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“...Also, I received your forum, um… Toyama? Matsuba?”
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“Matsuba’s fine. I’ll need to keep up this facade for a while anyway.”
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“Facade?”
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“You can’t exactly be an undercover officer without criminals and their associates in your midst… and I’ll just leave it at that.” What did she mean by that? Was there a criminal in the building with us who wasn’t being truthful about who they were?
...Did they have something to do with our kidnapping?
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“...Right then. I’m no criminal expert, but if that criminal is really here and out for you, then staying hidden is probably a smart choice.”
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“Yeah… but the thought of having a criminal after you is horrible to think about…”
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“It is, but it’s something I have to think about a lot. I don’t really get scared thinking about it that much, but I guess that’s because I’m used to it.”
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“I suppose that makes sense.”
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“Well, I’m glad we all had this discussion. I suppose we should all just wander around until suppe-”
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“Not so fast!”
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“Gah!”
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“You!”
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“...”
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“Now what exactly is going on here? I give you those forums as a potential way to kill each other and here you are reading the contents like it’s some show and tell bullshit!”
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“So what? You can’t control what we do wit’em, and you can’t stop us from talkin’ bout’em either!”
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“Yeah, he’s right. It’s literally in the rules that you told us to follow.” She quickly booted up her Student Handbook.
“4. The host may not interfere with the students unless they break a rule or specifically request it.”
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“You’d literally be breaking your own rules if you tried to force us to stop talking about it. Besides, you literally gave us a motive to kill someone. It’s only natural that it’d be a hot topic for discussion.” She was clearly trying to keep up her image as Midori, but it was almost like I could hear Chisato slipping through the cracks of her sentence.
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“Well, I never! Seems like your law knowledge is coming in handy there, Officer!”
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“...” I guess Monomage already knew who she was. She didn’t look scared though, so maybe Monomage wasn’t the criminal she mentioned.
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“But, I guess since we’re all sharing stuff about each other…” He reached for the brim of his hat. “...I think it’s only fair that I share something about me!”
In that instant, he whipped the hat off his head, and…
...and…
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“Ta-da!”
...What the heck.
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“What.”
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“You’re kiddin’ me.”
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“What the fuck?!”
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“Well, aren’t you just a pleasant bunch. Didn’t your parents ever teach you manners?”
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“W-We were taught to express gratitude to stuff we liked, not stuff like this. What the damn were you expecting reactionwise?”
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“Yeah! Tell’im like it is!”
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“Oh, I get it! You all are just jealous that you don’t have luscious locks like mine! Shahahahaha!”
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“Oh, you think you’re hot shit, huh?” Naomasa stood up from where he was sitting and reached behind his head.
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“Oh? A challenger approaches? A challenger who thinks his hair attracts more attention than mine? Shahaha! You can’t get higher quality than this, Mr. Saxobeat!” Monomage’s taunting didn’t seem to deter Naomasa in the slightest, because in mere seconds…
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“You wanna bet?”
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“...”
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“!!!”
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“Well, how bout that!”
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“Seriously, you could probably be a shampoo model with hair like that!”
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“Oh, come on! What happened to little ol’ me?”
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“You’re not important.”
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“You’ve also just lost a bet.”
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“Well, aren’t you just gentlemen! Guess I’ll leave you to your ‘teamwork’ bullcrap!” With a wave of his staff, his hat reappeared on his head and his hair was stuffed back inside.
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“Thank you for choosing the Despairing Sunset Inn, and we hope you enjoy your miserable stay! Happy slaughtering!” He disappeared in yet another puff of smoke.
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“Off he goes again.”
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“Better gone than here, I suppose.”
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“What was that all about, anyway?”
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“I… couldn’t tell you, honestly.” I’d been confused the entire time Monomage had been in the room. First, he was condemning us for sharing our forums with each other, and then he was sharing… “information” about himself with all of us. Was he trying to confuse us, or did he have something else in mind?
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“Whatever it was, we managed to chase him off again.”
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“You mean you chased him off with that hair of yours.”
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“Hehehe, just doing my best.”
I had to chuckle at that. After a bit of banter between Naomasa and Keiji, we all decided to head back. One or two people stayed behind, but the majority of us left for other places in the inn. I, however, wanted to check in with those people I hadn’t talked to earlier… That’d be Hitoshi, Nobuyuki, Kasumi, Asahi, and Naomi. I wondered what they thought of the whole thing?
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fountainpenguin · 6 years ago
Note
Please do #7.
#7 - Share a snippet from one of your favorite pieces of prose you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.
I’ve written so many scenes I love. I couldn’t pick just one, so here is one from each of several fandoms.
Total Drama - The Lyin’ Queen, Chapter 2: “Last One Standing”
Context: It’s just after Staci’s elimination ceremony. We follow her point of view as she wanders Playa Des Losers while the Season 1 cast pack up and leave after learning that they won’t be participating this season. Note that in this scene, Ezekiel is on Staci’s shoulders.
That snapped up the attention of the boy with the injured arm who had greeted Staci down by the beach. “Hold on. Owen, what happened to your face?”
“Um, Chris strapped a bomb to it, and it went off. It’s okay, though! It wasn’t really a bomb, it was just a signal flare thing. It doesn’t hurt anymore, really, Noah. You don’t have to worry.”
Noah opened his mouth. Shut it. He raised his good hand. Lowered it. Raised it again, then lowered it.
“Why didn’t you tell me this five hours ago when I asked for everyone with injuries to meet me down at the dock?”
They made a comical sight- a giant cringing away from a scrawny bookworm who had one arm wrapped in a sling of reeds. “I didn’t want you to yell at me,” Owen whimpered.
“Why would I yell at you?” Noah yelled, slapping his palm to his forehead. “You need serious medical attention, Brickhouse! What is your problem?”
Staci had begun to walk backwards as she watched them, so she didn’t know what to think when her heels and hips thunked against something large and metal and cold. She looked up. The thing was a robot. A big, chunky robot with a square head and small, colorful buttons all over it. It breathed at her.
“Hello?”
The robot continued to breathe at her.
“Okay, yeah…” Staci grinned and tried to slip beneath its arm, but the robot would have none of that. Its clawed hand twisted around. It grabbed her by the waist and hoisted her into the air. “Hey!” she sputtered, kicking her legs. Ezekiel launched into a stream of snarls, and the robot launched into a stream of high-pitched beeps. Staci wasn’t much of a yeller, but she considered putting her lungs to full use when another voice broke her out of her stupor, and she glanced down.
“Leave her alone, gawsh!” A redheaded boy with thick glasses - Staci knew he was Harold, because he’d been in the Drama Brothers band too - brandished the tattered white tablecloth from the buffet table. After folding it a few times, he twisted it up and smacked it against the robot’s chestal region. With a few more grunted clicks and whirrs, it replaced Staci (and Ezekiel) on the ground. Then it rrrrrd backwards, turned around, and drove away.
“You all right?” Harold asked, taking Staci’s shoulder to steady her. She wrinkled her nose in the direction the robot had rolled.
“Ya, I’m fine. What… is it?”
He shrugged and, after casting it another glance, shuddered and began walking in the opposite direction. She hurried after him. “Oh, him. That’s just the Total Drama Machine. It’s just programmed to pick stuff up and throw things away, reach high shelves, purify drinking water, give off magnetic pulses to scare off the mutant wildlife, stuff like that. Just kind of roams around until it bumps into something.”
“Huh. Well, I might have to take it apart and see how it ticks, ya. Inventing runs in the family and I won’t rest until I make a significant contribution to the world. You see, my great-great-great-great aunt Tanya invented HELLO GOLDEN FLIPPING SWEETNESS!”
She recognized him instantly- Who wouldn’t? But he was so much different in real life than he’d looked on YouTube. His tan skin was… was the color of perfect skin, and his black hair had that sheen that all hair should aspire to gain. He had the gorgeous rounded muscles, had the defined cheekbones of cheekbone heaven. He lay back in a pool chair with broken legs, penciling in a crossword puzzle with one hand and holding a tall glass of fruity pink juice in his other. Even before the last word had left her tongue, the newspaper in his lap burst into flame. “What the-?” he yelped, flinging it away as he jerked upright. “Who turned on my-?”
HOOOOO SNAP HE WAS HOT!
He tipped up his sunglasses and gave her a puzzled look. He had two black eyes and a mummified leg and a bloody slash down his right cheek AND HE WAS STILL THE MOST BEAUTIFUL MAN SHE’D EVER SEEN IN HER LIFE!
“Who is this?” he asked Harold, pointing at Staci with his pinkie. As he said it, his pencil started to smoke. Even his warm voice was super unfairly attractive.
“Justin,” Harold said, gesturing towards the ILLEGALLY MEGA HOT GUY with one upturned palm. Then he moved his palm back towards Staci. “Staci. She’s part of that new cast Chris brought in, and she got booted first this season.”
HE WAS LITERALLY GLOWING AND OH MAN IT WAS SO LUCKY HE WASN’T WEARING A SHIRT BECAUSE IF HE WAS HE’D HAVE TO BE ARRESTED FOR EVER CONCEALING SO MUCH FREAKING BEAUTY FROM THE WORLD FOR EVEN LIKE FOUR SECONDS!
First of all, I just want to say that “Why would I yell at you?” Noah yelled is one of my favorite lines of all time.
Okay, but how can you not love Staci? She is so ridiculously… chill. About everything. I really do need to finish this ‘fic one of these days, because she’s so funny. Keep in mind that this scene with Justin comes shortly after the scene when Staci was about to drown and when she saw someone coming to her rescue, her first thought was, “Please be hot, please be hot, please be hot.”
I don’t think the scene above really needs much explanation. Staci finally meets Justin in person, and it goes down exactly the way you’d expect it to. I nailed both Staci’s voice and succeeded in adding humor to this chapter, so I’m pretty pleased with it to this day.
Pokémon - PMDU - “Playin’ Sight” and “Rory and the Duckletts” Part 7
Context: PMDU is/was a Pokémon Mystery Dungeon group on deviantArt that allowed members to create teams and embark on story adventures. I’ve actually got two pieces from PMDU that I’d like to share because ??? I’m like that ??? The first one comes from “Playin’ Sight”, and is told by Kit the shiny Duskull, who has fallen into despair after Roland migrated south for the winter. As a result of their break-up, Kit lost all housing benefits and can’t stay in the Hunters’ Guild dorms anymore. Snow is on its way, Kit has no place to live, and it’s a very sad day for a suicidal little hippie ghost with depression.
My thoughts had wandered back to Roland’s smug face with its tall, pointed ears and soft feathery muzzle. His whiteness and purity, his snappy red and electric blue freckles, that incurable quirk to his right ear, the muscles rippling around his wings like waves amidst Iravian prairie grass… Was it any real surprise? Roland was all I had. As a Ghost, I’d seen many faces come and go - most of them people I didn’t think were all that fab - but through some twist of fate, I had never met anyone quite like Roland before. He wasn’t a prince. He was hardly a citizen. He was dirty and vulgar and foul-mouthed and ill-tempered. He was sexist, impulsive, gluttonous, clumsy, illiterate, accepting, noble and brave, a devoted worker, passionate… Roland… liked me.Such an absurd concept, that. No one liked me. Katherine Christopher “Kit” of the surname they would not acknowledge was an awful ‘mon by nature. Depressed and troublesome, chaotic and shy. I cared more for my plants than I sometimes did for others’ lives.And yet, despite every flaw, Roland found something in me that he appreciated. He lay his hand against my dead, unfeeling cheek, and he brought me to life. A Duskull that feeds on negativity and a Togetic that feeds on happiness make for quite the pair.Roland was the embodiment of everything that was meant to be in the world. Optimism. Socializing. Fun. He made me laugh when no one in the world could, because his genius blossomed from his gentle stupidity. Despite him disgusting me, he was my favorite ‘mon in the world. Why did I hate knowing that he saw me as his friend? I know why. Because that hurts. When your best friend doesn’t count you as their best in return. When I gave him my everything, but being roommates with benefits wasn’t enough to make him stay.Serpent below, I’m in love with someone I’ve forgotten how to hate.
“Get me another leppa,” I told Linette, shoving my empty juice cup across the counter as the Mareep beside me got to his two rear feet and stretched. When she closed her flipper around it, we touched for the briefest of moments. I let my fingers linger, until finally she eased the glass away. If she’d been Roland, she would have held them absently as she stared out the window, then turned to me with crooked teeth slightly parted at the sight of simple wonder in the evening streets.I’d have murdered someone for the chance to tell him I was sorry. I’d curl my long, wispy tail around his ankle the way he liked, leaning forward with my folded arms on his knee. One more night. Just one with the love god who considered me dirt, since I played in it so much, burying plants, burying emotions, burying dreams. One more night. Someone else’s blood on my hands for the taste of nacho cheese on his lips. I’d give anything to hear him whisper in my crumpled Slakoth ear that I actually mattered.
“Playin’ Sight” is a really cool piece for me, because it really allowed me to develop Kit’s character. Especially Kit’s relationship with Roland. Apparently those two were roommates with benefits the entire time and I just had no idea until now. But a Duskull and a Togetic have got to be one of the cutest, most complicated, and most unexpected couples you can stumble across. One wants to make the other miserable, the other wants to make the other happy.
Kit is aromantic pansexual, and I had a lot of fun writing sexual attraction from an aromantic ghost’s point of view. Kit’s lost so many people… so why does losing one more have to hurt so much? Especially when Roland is deliberately written to be as stereotypically horrible as I could make him, except for the fact that I accidentally made him volunteer at orphanages and nursing homes in his spare time and censor all his swears. I just love their dynamic. I like the prose above because we see Kit working out messy feelings, and I think it’s cute.
Now! “Rory and the Duckletts” was a side story I wrote over the course of a year and a half that told the story of Team Plum Pudding’s first days in the city of Andalusst. This particular scene revolves around my characters Rudy the Gothita and Adrian the Chespin after Rudy was tossed in “temporary jail” for crushing part of the city with a flying (read: falling) Wailord. Adrian has come to seek him out, since he believes Rudy to be the only person in the city who knows who stole the notebook that contained his entire life’s work regarding Pokémon biology.
The floor was rough. Cold. There were only six cells in the small side building, and of them a mere two were occupied. The first cell contained a sleeping Audino with matted pink fur, curled up in the far corner. Rudy was in the second one. The Gothita lay on his back on the simple bunk in the otherwise empty enclosure, sliding his feet up and down the brown wall. His hands were still bound and covered with the cloth sack.Adrian glanced Angelo [the Zangoose]’s way. “And I’m allowed to speak with him?”“I honestly don’t care one way or another what you do, so long as you don’t attack him or me or try to remove him illegally from the premises.” Angelo flicked his claw at one of the bars. It clanged. “We force-fed him a Disable pill approximately fifteen minutes ago. He ought to be harmless for the next forty.” He withdrew to his desk along the opposite wall.Rudy sat up. “Darian?”“It’s me, Rudy.”He rolled from the bunk and came over, pressing his snout to the bars. His eyes rotated around a little, and finally he found the Chespin’s body heat and smiled.“I knew you liked me. It was the ride above the clouds, wasn’t it? It’s always the ride above the clouds. That’s the rule of three.”“Of course I like you. I adore you.” Adrian crossed his arms. “You know why I came and I have neither the time nor desire to play games, so let’s hear what you have to say and get on with it.”Rudy’s little smile disappeared. “Hey Darian, listen. It’s weird, but they severed my connection somehow.” “Connection to what?”He pointed at his head where his ear should be (Adrian decided that he probably had ear holes just beneath those ribbons). “I don’t know the word for it in like non-psychic language. But the pill messed up my connection.”“In Common, please?”Rudy sighed like Thorn. “You know, my thing. My Gothita sight powers. I can’t even see the warm windows anymore, even though you’ve had one following you all day and it’s probably still here. And I’m not picking up too many signals, so half the time I’m losing my words.”“I’m sorry for you. Does that interfere with your ability to describe the location of my sketchbook thief?”“Well, no, but… It bothers me. No, it really does. I feel gross and dead.”Adrian clicked his fingers several times, at least as well as he could manage. “Rudy. It’s late. My feet are sore. My ribs are broken, gosh darnit, if you’ve forgotten that. I am starving, exhausted, dried halfway to a husk, and just in an incredibly cranky mood overall. Please, just once today, can I not have something go easily for me?”Tilting his head, Rudy brought his brows together. “Why didn’t you tell me your ribs were broken? I would have healed you if you’d asked nicely.”“Please don’t tell me you know Heal Pulse. I will pitch a fit.” “Yeah, I do. My Dad taught it to me when I was little.”“Why didn’t you- I told you I couldn’t walk!”“Well, you didn’t say it was because you’d broken your ribs. You just need to be more specific. Wait, did I just…?”Adrian narrowed his eyes. He probably deserved that, although he wasn’t sure exactly how. He glanced out the window over Angelo’s desk. The sky was still black. He ground his teeth. His tongue flicked over the space in the back where he was missing one. Had that only been yesterday?“Gosh darnit Rudy, please. I will fall to my knees and clasp my hands if that is what you would have me do. Everything I am is dependent upon that notebook. You’re the only one who can rescue me from this despairing pit I have slipped into. I’ll owe you so many favors. Please, for the love of science, answer me. Where is our thief?”“I’m sorry,” Rudy said, not looking particularly broken up about this. “I can’t tell you. I don’t know what street he’s on. I’m thermosighted, remember? I can’t read signs, so I’d have to show you where. I can find it - it won’t be hard.”Adrian bashed his head against the cell bars. He let it stay there for a few seconds, then turned around to look at Angelo. “Is there any way possible I could take him out, just long enough for that?”Angelo shrugged, bored. “Not particularly, no. He’s being temporarily contained, so he’s stuck here for twenty-four hours or until his legal guardian comes to pick him up and sign the necessary forms. Whichever comes first. I think they’re planning to move him to the real jail once his time is up, since they can legally arrest him or something. I don’t know for sure. They told me, but I wasn’t really listening.”Adrian swiveled his gaze around to Rudy. “And I suppose it would be far too much to hope-”“Ended up separated from my dad in the Fog a season cycle ago, biff. As of yesterday, I’m now registered as a legal dependent of the city until I turn seventeen in common year.” He frowned. “I’d tell you ‘It will take awhile’, but that’s too close to the old thing right now, I think. I don’t remember.”Oooof course. This would be too easy otherwise. Adrian pressed his hands against his back and looked up at the ceiling. “Well, that settles that for us, then. This is the worst day of my entire life. No, you think I could be exaggerating, but I’m not. I hate every ounce of today. Or do we use another measurement system in this goshdarn city? I hate every gram of today.”“Hey.” Rudy tapped his bound hands against one of the bars, producing a low rattling sound. “Hey, plant guy. You should become my legal guardian. I think it would be nice to have parents.”His whiskers twitched. “That’s not happening. I didn’t come here to adopt a foster kid. Try again.”“Oh.” Rudy thought for a minute. “What if you broke me out?”“I’m not doing that. That’s against the law. Even if it weren’t, it would be rude. I’m not the kind of ‘mon who finds joy in tearing apart a carefully-constructed public building. Aside from that, your new friend the Zangoose is standing right here and I assume he would attempt to stop me.”Angelo shrugged. “That sounds like something I would probably do.”Rudy sighed. “Weeeell… I guess if I were a nice person, I could let you read my mind.”“Oh, would you? I would be so flattered. Ah, wait. Drat- I can’t read minds. Believe me, I would love to be a Psychic-Type.”“Phone a friend?”“Phone a… Oh, do you mean call in another Psychic? Do we have time for that?”“Nope. Maybe. I dunno. Not my problem.” Rudy shrugged, and his smirky smile came back. “Well, I suppose there’s no help for it. You’ll have to run away. I mean, I mean! Adopt me. You’ll have to adopt me. This helps both of us. I don’t see any better solution. And speaking of better, I’m feeling better already. Did you hear what I just said? I think my pill…” He chose to shut up without being asked. Probably for the first time in his life.Angelo shrugged again. “If you want to take him under your wing, you just need the mutual consent of all parties involved for that. Adopter and adoptee. Birth parents can intervene if they can prove their genes are shared, which isn’t hard. If they’re around. You could sign the document and be out of here in a matter of minutes. I have a stack of papers like that here in this drawer. Interested?”Sure, why not? Because that sounded like a perfect idea. Of all the children in the city, wild Rudy - who was currently behind bars in first-level jail, in case anyone had forgotten - was definitely the one Adrian wanted most. Rory had a c-day coming up, and a child would make a perfect mid-birthday present for her. And with Rudy came the Wailord, and then Adrian could get to enjoy the experience of almost dying every possible day. Everyone wins.Adrian picked up the first sheet of paper.Check all that apply: I am adopting an Egg of uncertain origin / I am adopting an Egg of known origin / I am adopting a person who has seen four or fewer winters / I am adopting a person who has seen five or more winters / I am adopting a direct relative / I am adopting my spouse’s child / I am adopting a person already affiliated with my Guild team as a fully documented member for at least one season.“I’m not doing this,” Adrian said, skimming down the rest of the page. It was alarmingly short for a document that could change one’s life so tremendously, so it didn’t take long.What city, town, village, or similar do you reside in? Do you qualify for official residency?I can confirm the adoptee’s birth parents or former guardians consent to adoption and have signed the necessary relinquishment forms or have otherwise been unable to perform physically or morally proper guardianship duties for the adoptee for a period of at least one most recent season.Consent of birth parent or former guardian is not necessary because: Guardian is confirmed deceased with currently no confirmation of spectral return / Guardian has been lost in the Fog for time exceeding one season / Guardian has been deprived by law of custody / Guardian has voluntarily surrendered right to custody / Adoptee was first discovered as Egg or somewhat or entirely Fogwiped and birth parents have not yet been traced.Contact with adoptee’s former guardians post the adoption is: Signed and attached / Undecided / Not applicable at this time. He shook his head. “No. I can’t commit to this - there’s no way I have time to read all these papers. Have any other plans in that unstable little skull of yours?”Rudy had tilted his head and put his mouth around one of the bars - Adrian tucked that thought away for later - but he stopped mid-chew to screw up his brows. “I’b not really what you migh’ call th’ planning type. I us’wawy just go vith th’ first thing to pop in’o my head s’long as it’s vithin the rules I know, and things us’waway work out okay.”Suitability for adoption: Adopting guardian can be considered an adult by officially recognized common count, will treat the child as a member of xir own family, will care for and provide support for the child, has a suitable home for the child, bestows upon the child rights equal to those that would come from natural birth including inheritance, and is adopting the child while being of their own, safe and sound mind.Yeah right. Like Adrian was going to get that garden house of his dreams and just pass it on to Rudy when he died. Rudy would probably murder him to get it if he found out.The information given on this form and all attached documents is correct to the best of my knowledge. I understand that this means if I have lied on this form, I am guilty of crime unless a condition of ethereal powers such as in the case of possession or psychic abilities is recognized and confirmed within thirty days.The edges of the paper crumpled in Adrian’s fists. Lowering it so he could see Rudy’s bright blue eyes again, he jabbed his finger through the bars of the cell. “If I do this for you, you will never, ever, ever, ever cross me for as long as you should live or exist in spiritual form.”“But why would I do a thing like that?” Rudy asked, setting his covered hands against his chest bow. 
Oh, there are a dozen things I love about this piece. We’ll start with the most obvious: Adrian spontaneously adopting the child he despises, and refusing to tell his boss and team partner Rory that he did so. Adoption was not my original plan going into this scene, but I adored the idea. What’s funny is the sheer amount of people who know this happened, none of them being Rory. In a later piece called “‘Cue the Music”, Miles and Kit argue over how to bring “Hey Rory, Rudy is legally your child now” up in conversation now that Adrian has been… removed from the picture. They know, she doesn’t. Good times. Love it.
I love the little details here, like the fact that Rudy was force-fed a Disable pill to strip him of all his moves. In the next scene, when he and Adrian are walking down the street, Adrian realizes that because Rudy is a Psychic-Type and his blood moves extremely quickly through his body, drugs don’t last very long in his system and if he would have waited a few more minutes, Rudy could have gotten out of jail by catching Angelo off guard with a few attacks. Cracks me up every time.
I think my absolute favorite bit of prose here is Adrian listing off all the reasons why he SHOULDN’T adopt Rudy, and then promptly picking up the adoption papers and reading through them anyway. I love these two and their dynamic so much. Really wish this Group hadn’t gone on hiatus. I had big plans.
This scene is also notable for being the only time we ever see Rudy speak without using references in every line of his dialogue, as he lost his psychic connection with the Fourth Wall when he was Disabled, so it’s kind of cool to see what he sounds like when I’m not feeding him obscure quotes all day. Turns out he’s still an adorably annoying little guy.
Fairly OddParents - 130 Prompts, “Solo”
In all honesty, China’s introduction scene is probably my all-time favorite. I have a lot of scenes I like, but several of them I’ve talked about on this blog before, and some of my other favorites we haven’t reached yet and they’re spoilers. A lot of my favorite scenes are lengthy ones (“Shadow” and “China’s Finger Trap” come to mind), so here are two that are a bit shorter.
The door on this end had a small sign above the handle that read, Timmy’s Room: PLEASE, PLEASE Knock.
Remy entered without knocking and switched on the lights.
This is from “End of the World.” Remy barging into Timmy’s house in the middle of the night and turning on all the lights like it’s his own home just cracks me up. You can bet that Timmy’s parents don’t knock either, but you can’t blame a kid for trying.
And I have another one too:
Context: H.P., Sanderson, and several other pixies are about to observe one of the youngest pixies in the company as he retakes an exam for the tenth time.
Four minutes later, Sanderson gathered with the other proctors of the exam - Hawkins, Wilcox, Longwood, and the Head Pixie himself - outside the door.
“You all have your clipboards and two pens at the ready?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I expect you all to be as objective as possible. Is that understood? Hawkins? Sanderson? There will be trouble if I see any more ‘At least he tried’s. We’re not cutting him slack because he’s already failed nine times.”
They both nodded. Longwood tugged at one tight sleeve of that fluffy brown jacket of his, plainly reveling in the fact that H.P. hadn’t said his name.
“And Longwood?”
“Sir?”
“You have a lipstick stain smeared beside your ear that wasn’t there before Naelita Sorins went up to your office. I’ve noticed she’s been visiting quite often lately, and less and less often when you go on break.”
Longwood’s face turned gumball pink beneath the dozens of red freckles that identified him as a gyne rather than a drone. His fingers went straight for the spot on his cheek. “I’m sorry, sir.”
“That’s twice I’ve had enough proof to call you on it now. Three strikes and you’re out. If this happens again, I want your cap on my desk, and Smith will rise to his gyne duties and replace you as company vice president. After we finish here today, you can report to evening dish duty for two months as you did before.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you for not firing me. I’ll clean myself up better next time.”
H.P. raised one eyebrow. Sanderson kicked his ankle, because he could get away with it.
“I- I mean, I won’t do it again (Watch your fat toe, lug).”
“Do what?”
“I, erm, I won’t sneak smooches during work hours, sir.”
Sanderson whistled a few bars of “Kiss the Girl” from Disney’s “The Little Mermaid” as H.P. looked him up and down. “I suppose that’s the most compromise I’m going to get out of you. If you ever wonder why you aren’t allowed to leave Pixie World unsupervised anymore, this is why.”
“That's… that’s perhaps for the best, sir.”
“How am I doing, boss?” Wilcox asked. H.P. stared at him for a moment, rubbing his chin, then gave him a thumbs up. Wilcox brightened. Hawkins patted his shoulder with his bad hand, and Sanderson mimicked the thumbs up once the boss’s back was turned.
H.P. opened the door. The room was small, with a desk and chair set solidly on the tile. A window into the observing room spanned the back wall. Arranged neatly on the desk were one landline phone, one pad of green sticky notes, his starpiece, a wrinkled purple pamphlet that listed each pixie’s name, job title, and room number, and about a dozen blue and black pens. Rosencrantz sprang from the chair as soon as the door opened, holding his arms straight by his sides.
“Sir.”
“Good afternoon, Rosencrantz. The time is 1:00. You will now be entering the fifth and final day of your assessment. Today you will be answering calls from clients and, if necessary, directing them to whomever you believe can be of best assistance to them. You may use the provided pamphlet, but no other notes or reference materials you may have written. You must take ten calls, and are expected to remain in the exam room until you do. You may contact any pixie for anything you need to complete your tasks. However, you cannot ask for advice on how a call should be answered. When you are finished, you must demonstrate the proper exit procedure as though you were going on break, after which you may leave the room and wait while we tally up your score. Are there any questions?”
“No, sir.” Unsurprising. Rosencrantz had run through this test so many times, he probably had the opening speech memorized as well as H.P. did.
H.P. flipped the wall switch to redirect all incoming calls to Room 1C. “You may begin.”
On that signal, he and the others floated (Longwood walked) through the room’s rear door and took their seats in the floating chairs behind the window. H.P. sat down in the centermost one, removed his glasses, and massaged his temples.
“Twelve pens. He’s nervous. The utmost he can pull out of this now is a two hundred and forty-nine.”
The scene where H.P. studies Wilcox thoughtfully and then gives him a thumbs-up is probably one of my favorite bits of prose that I’ve ever written. It was the perfect end to the little critique session going on there. Wilcox brightening up just makes my day. Although he’s a boring, stoic pixie, I always envision him breaking into a grin and clenching his fists near his chest in a squee. Praise from H.P. is hard to come by some days, and they drink it up when they can.
Some other aspects of this scene that I love are Longwood instantly knowing where the kiss mark on his cheek is, Longwood promising to “Clean himself up better next time” and H.P.’s eyebrow raise in response to this, Sanderson kicking Longwood “because he could get away with it,” and of course, the last line here where H.P. deducts points before the exam even starts just because Rosencrantz has “too many pens.” With the way he rubs his forehead, you can just feel him oozing disappointment.
Not to mention, I love the entire concept of this piece. It’s a cute one. And it ends so dramatically. Lots of fun, and definitely counted as one of my favorites of the entire project.
Danny Phantom - “How to Get Ahead In Navigating”
Context: Youngblood has returned to the Ghost Zone after “The Fenton Menace” and arrived at a Western-themed saloon-like restaurant. He announced his arrival and all the patrons are scrambling to pull out money for him. All except for two: one being Vlad, and one being a muscle-headed mercenary-type here.
“Who the heck are you to be bossing me around, kid?”
It’s very quiet in the room. I hear someone reach out and adjust their fork on the table behind me.
“Mmm.” I prop my cheek against my fist, with my elbow on the table. I even kick my legs behind me as I do it, so I’m more like floating horiz… horace… on my belly in front of them. “You’re cute. You know what? I like your moxie, so I’ll give you one more chance to decide what you’re gonna do about this. I’m Captain Youngblood. The Captain Youngblood. Plunderer of merchant ships, transporter of Living Realm goods, adopted son of Prince Aragon’s chief royal advisers, hold the all-time high score on Plasmius Peril at the Purgebane arcade, savior of the skeletons. Ring a bell up in that waxy noggin of yours?”
Anchor Arm sweeps his stare over the other patrons in the restaurant. I don’t look behind me, but I know a lot of them are probably watching us. This doesn’t happen a lot. “You really here bragging that you’re the toughest guy in this dinky little joint?” He looks at the man in white like Is he for real? while the man in white simply smiles back at him with the patience of a cracking tree branch.
“Yeah, well.” I walk my gloved fingers across the tabletop, and jump them on Anchor Arm’s spoon. His spoon flips into the air and clatters down in the other guy’s soup bowl. “I never said thaaat. I mean, I am just eight years old. You don’t really have to do anything I say. Unless you want to.”
He gets ready to smack me in the face, because we’re being the most cliché people ever and of course he’s going to lose his temper at me in five seconds. I get ready to not move. If he chickens out, I win. If he slaps someone who looks like a kid, then everyone will be shocked and afraid, and I can fall to the floor and act stunned, then get up and be super calm about it and make a show of forgiving him while still being the mysterious, barely-restrained loose cannon everyone thinks Captain Youngblood is. And then I win.
But I don’t get the chance to not move. A glowing pink coil of energy, like a whip, snaps out and catches him around his hand bobble. Wrist. It’s the other man at the table. With a yank, he pulls his friend’s arm down with a light grunt. It slams against the table, rattling the silverware.
When I look at Anchor Arm’s friend, I expect to see him pleading, ready to grovel at my feet for mercy. Instead, he’s all relaxed. Maybe even laughing. The guy actually has a sort of chuckle on his face, a friendly We’re sharing a joke here; typical Anchor Arm–you know how the poor man gets.
Um. Do I know this guy? Like I said, he’s dressed in almost all white, except for a black triangle of a shirt at his chest. He also has on huge black gloves that look like my cowboy ones, and a thick black belt around his waist. And there’s that huge puffy red and white cape too. The collar on that thing is like fwoosh. His Dr. Spectra devil horn hair is the blackest shine you can get in hair. His calm attitude stabs me in the guts. If I had skin, this is the definitely the first guy I’ve met in a long while who would make my skin crawl. But I don’t have skin. I don’t know who this is.
“Goodness me, I’m so terribly sorry. Allow me to extend my most formal apologies.” The man touches two fingers to the two clasps on his red and white cape, briefly shutting his eyes. The smile doesn’t disappear. “My name is Vlad Plasmius.”
… Eep. Yeeaahhh, I know who this is. I mean, we’ve never met, but I don’t think we have to. I’m Captain Youngblood, champion of the rebel skeletons. He’s Vlad Plasmius, the grown-up halfa who can beat up Phantom, and guardian of the only other permanent portal we usually talk about in the Ghost Zone. Does anything else even need to be said? What’s he even doing in the Limbo sector? I thought his portal was in Haykees. Shouldn’t he be, I dunno, guarding it?
Plasmius retracts his pink whip with a flick of his hand. The energy dissipates like mist. “And what my friend Romeo here means, dear boy, is that we would be delighted to provide a strapping young orphan boy like you with all the funds you could possibly need that you’ve been unable to procure for yourself.”
My smile wrinkles. “Huh?”
I know what all those words mean. I’m smart like that. But huh?
The man reaches into his vest, I guess, and pulls out the biggest stack of cash I’ve ever seen, except on game shows. He drops it on the table next to his bowl, where the spoon I flipped is still sitting, then pulls out another stack of cash even bigger than that one. And then another. It’s like he just goes around wearing a whole padded vest stuffed full of money to protect him when he gets shot by lasers or something. I don’t even have a clue how valuable cash even is in the Ghost Zone, so is that a good idea, or a wasteful one? Does our economy even work anymore now that King Pariah’s gone and half our money is rocks picked up off the ground? I actually do not know. I don’t really care about booty.
“Now.” After four bundles, the man laces his fingers under his chin, leaning his elbows on the table. “What exactly was your usual pay rate, again?”
“Uh.” My eyes dart to the money, then to him again. That stuff looks real. That can’t be real. It’s too much. He’s showing off. This is weird. What’s going on? “I… I… I don’t have a set rate for what I take. I just take whatever people give me. It, uh, averages out to be about 900 /d/ a person, I guess.”
That didn’t sound very pirate captain. That sounded very domino punching bag king.
I love the restaurant scene as a whole because it makes it very clear that Youngblood actually is a big deal in the Ghost Zone. In show canon, he has a ship full of skeletons who respect him, and the plot of “Pirate Radio” literally revolved around Danny being confused that everyone respects Youngblood when he’s in charge, and no one respects him when he tries to be in charge.
In this scene, Youngblood strolls in like he owns the place, with confidence and swagger through the roof. Everything is fine until his path crosses with the one person who refuses to bow to him. Youngblood is used to rerouting paths so that he can pull a victory either way the situation goes. But clever Vlad knew exactly how to surprise him, and humiliate him in front of the entire restaurant. 
Youngblood is a very interesting character, having fifty years of world experience and the mind of an eight-year-old to process it all. I feel that the restaurant scene really delves into the way he works and the teasing games he plays. I love the way he describes things: The collar on that thing is like fwoosh. I also love the fact that when Youngblood was flaunting his credentials, he listed his high score in the arcade before the fact that he’s known as “the savior of the skeletons.” Priorities.
This piece is heavy on stream of consciousness, and I think it came out very well. I’ve tried writing Youngblood in past tense, but I just can’t. His constant thoughts and his way of addressing the reader pin him so well in present. I just adore his little comments like, If I had skin, this is the definitely the first guy I’ve met in a long while who would make my skin crawl. But I don’t have skin. I don’t know who this is, and Does anything else even need to be said? What’s he even doing in the Limbo sector? I thought his portal was in Haykees. Shouldn’t he be, I dunno, guarding it? He’s just so beautifully… child-like. Nailed it. “Ahead In Navigating” is definitely one of my absolute favorite pieces I’ve ever written.
Bunsen Is a Beast - Goodness of Misfit, Chapter 1: “King and Lionheart”
Context: Mikey Munroe has been called down to the principal’s office, and he’s about to be given Bunsen’s file and told that he’s been assigned to welcome Bunsen to school, since no one else on the welcoming committee wanted to. The peppy welcoming committee supervisor, Miss Lighthouse, is here as well.
“Oooh, it’s such a shame you hate traveling beyond town as much as you do, bingo ball! You know, when I was your age, I was out running and climbing in the woods and swimming in the river just constantly. I recorded all my adventures and wrote a book. School is delightful, but the summer season is what really gets me drunk on living such a glorious life!”
With that, she punched the air. The arm that still had all its fingers was a prosthetic, and sometimes it freaks out when it moves too fast. This was one of those times. Principal Freshwater’s globe flew off the bookshelf and crashed behind my chair. I winced, but didn’t get up to look at it. Instead, I folded my [unbroken, unburned, untouched by insects, uncovered in poison ivy, free of snake bites, fully functional, very safe because I don’t take them into the woods unprotected like a crazy person] arms and tried to find his pupils behind his milky glasses.
“Uh… Are we really getting a new student this late in the year? Sir?”
I didn’t see any other reason for Miss Lighthouse to leave her classroom. I mean, I was just a fifth grader, lowest on the rungs of middle school, but everyone knew I’d be promoted from a mere member of our welcoming committee to its head next year. It was a win by default; one by one, the rest of the kids had told me flat-out to my face that they wouldn’t be coming back.
… Come to think of it, I’d noticed most of them called down to meet with our principal a few days before telling me flat-out to my face that they wouldn’t be coming back. In our last meeting, Miss Lighthouse and I had been the only ones to even show up.
I crossed my ankles as my toes curled in.
Principal Freshwater placed both hands on his desk and heaved himself from his chair. Well, he got up, at least. The seat stayed stuck to his, uh, lower half for an extra two seconds before it fell back on its wheels with a clatter. “That… is precisely what we called you down here to discuss today. Our new student will arrive at the end of September, six weeks into the school year. As you well know, Michael, I’m due to retire in a matter of months.”
“Really? Weren’t you supposed to retire in like, January? And the October before that? And the June before that? And the-”
He adjusted his striped tie with his fist until it reached an angle that said “Shut your yap, punk-to-be, before I transfer you into Coach Glutes’ homeroom and obliterate all your chances at a successful future.”
As a punk-to-be, I was thereby cowed into shutting my yap.
“Our humble school has been granted a… sufficient amount of funding to ensure our new transfer student feels as though we’ve actually put forth effort into making him feel accepted in our community. When I leave this job behind, I do not want to be remembered as the man who wiped our town off the map… and into a pit of gnashing teeth, roaring flames, and acid burns. As such, I want to see this exchange program pulled off without a hitch.” While he was talking, Principal Freshwater oozed around the edge of his desk and brought his mouth near my nose. “Do you know what ‘without a hitch’ means, Michael?”
I squinted one eye to block his spittle from my cornea. My gaze darted to the picture frames lined up along the edge of his desk, but no one in the family photos screamed ‘Killman material’ to me, so I relaxed again. A little. “Uh… That this is a really huge and important job and you’re asking me to do it because I handle stress well, I run three of our clubs, I’m like the only kid who still wants to be part of the welcoming committee next year, and you know I won’t drop out because when I stay after school I get to use Miss Lighthouse’s computer without the constant fear of my parents being able to tap into my browsing history and expose my innermost secrets behind my back?”
In my free time, I tap into people’s security systems and jot the codes that work down for future reference. It only takes a few dozen tries, and I’ve lived here all eleven and a half years of my life. Not the kind of thing any kid wants to surrender to the loophole police.
Placing a hand over the headrest of my seat, Principal Freshwater leaned it all the way down until my back was almost parallel with the floor. His shoe stopped the feet from kicking too high. “It means that if you mess this up for us, Michael… it will be on your meaty head. And that’s a lot of head.”
“I can’t say I entirely disagree, sir,” I whispered through the reek of oysters and mayonnaise on his breath. Maybe now wasn’t the best time to remind him my last name was spelled with a ‘u’ and not an ‘o’.
I absolutely love the moment that Principal Freshwater pushes the headrest of Mikey’s seat down and leans over him. It came out exactly the way I wanted to, and really emphasizes Mikey’s discomfort. Overall, I think my Mikey voice came through very well in this piece. That casual way he mentions that he taps into people’s security systems, though. I mean, small town boy who’s parents installed them in the first place. He gets curious. What do you expect?
We never saw the school principal in the show, so I made one up and I feel like he fits in perfectly. In case we did meet the principal in the future, I wrote this scene so that Principal Freshwater here is about to retire. I just love the scene where Mikey is questioning this, musing that the principal has been wanting to retire for a long time. Mikey has that little, absentminded way of undermining people that’s such a funny part of his character. I’m glad I was able to slip it in, and set up the opportunity to use Principal Freshwater later if I’d like to.
Mario - “Pendant of Scarabs” Chapter 1
Context: Back in 2011, I started a ‘fic called “Pendant of Scarabs” that revolved around young Kamek and Cackletta, two long-time rivals who team up to search for magical treasures in an underground pyramid. I never finished it, but I have oodles of child Cackletta stuff that I would love to reboot as a backstory fanfic someday if I had the time. This scene here is the first part of the first chapter.
The flying turtle boy was bothering her again.
Idiot.
She shielded her face with one hand, narrowing her eyes against the sky. He circled above on his broomstick, watching her watch him. It had been two days since she’d first noticed him, three since she’d thought she was being followed. Now, he didn’t even bother to hide the fact that he was tailing her. He swam lazy circles through the air, over and over in front of the sun, his shadow tracing her progress on the ground.
There were two ways to get him to come down. For the first one, she could blast him out of the sky with a lightning bolt. It would be tiring though, and just make him angry, and she really wasn’t in the mood to deal with angry flying magical turtles.
She could wave him down with her hands, but that was something she could never see herself sink to doing. He could circle the sky all he wanted. She didn’t care.
Or he could dive down like that. That worked too.
Cackletta scowled at Kamek as the Magikoopa swooped low. “Why have you been following me? Do you want something?”
His broom slowed to a halt in front of her. “Hello to you too, Princess. Lost again?”
The young witch crossed her arms, her scowl deepening. “What do you mean ‘again’? And I’m not lost. I know exactly where I am.”
“Hmm…” Kamek tapped the side of his snout with a clawed finger, pretending to think. “Crossing the desert, far from home, and I’ve watched you go in circles for the past three hours. Yep, you’re definitely not lost.”
She glowered at him as he slid from his broom. “This is none of your concern. I should zap you into nothing right now.”
Kamek raised the nearest thing to an eyebrow. “I’m still alive, aren’t I? Obviously you don’t have magic abilities right now,” here he pointed to the sun, “or you wouldn’t have warned me. Little unfamiliar with the desert, are we?” When all he got for an answer were gritted teeth, he changed the angle of his claws to point at the paper tucked beneath her arm. “What’s on the map?”
“Like I would tell you.” Cackletta’s long green fingers curled into fists, still smoldering at the desert comment.
“Oh, I already know,” Kamek assured her. “I’m a Magikoopa.” His face became a mask of concentration, and a few seconds later he managed to pull a crystal ball out of the air. Still a little unfamiliar with his magic, his clawed fingers slipped at the awkward grip he was holding it in, and the crystal crashed to the desert sand.
“Hmm… little unfamiliar with the desert, are we?”
“Shut up,” he growled, picking the crystal from the sand and causing it to vanish back to wherever it had come. “My point is, I already know what you’re doing. You’re searching for that amulet thingie of yours.”
“Pendant,” she corrected, narrowing her eyes. “There’s a difference.”
He shrugged. “I’m in need of special magical ingredients for… certain things, and supposedly these things are found at the same place as your amulet. Am I right?” he beamed.
Cackletta’s fingers twitched slightly. “Pendant. What are you talking about?” She had an uneasy feeling that she already knew what he meant, and hoped she was wrong.
Kamek picked up his broom in one hand and angled the handle in her direction. “Well, isn’t it obvious? You need the amulet, and I need a few gems also supposed to be hidden in the pyramid.”
“Who said anything about a pyramid?”
“You know.” He waved the broomstick absently. “The underground pyramid.”
So he DID know. That wasn’t good. “So what you’re saying is that you want to team up. With me. Why would I ever do that?”
Kamek held out the broom again. “For one thing, I can fly. If you’re with me, we’ll have a better view of the area. For another, I’m a magic user too. We have different kinds of magic, Beanish and Koopa. That could be a good advantage.”
“Lachenohr,” she growled.
“Hmm?”
“I’m not convinced. Go on.” She folded her arms.
“I have access to food,” he offered. “Which, after watching you for three days, I think I can safely say that you don’t have anymore. How much longer do you think you can go without food?”
“I can create water out of nothing. I don’t need food.”
Kamek grunted, unimpressed. “Well, think about my offer,” he said as he began climbing onto his broom. “Shame, too. How long do you think it will take until they catch you?”
“What?” Cackletta blurted before she could stop herself. She whipped around, scanning the desert. Nothing but sand, sand, and more sand, a few rocks scattered here and there. “You’re lying.”
“Oh no. Why would a lie about something like that?” He leaned forward over his broom, which still hovered at least a foot off the sand. “Forget it. I should have known you’d be stubborn enough to turn down my offer.” He clicked his tongue, and the broom rose higher into the air. “I’d say they’re only about twenty, thirty miles off? You move fast. I’m impressed.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “… I hate you.”
“Last chance,” he warned, smirking slightly.
Cackletta looked him over. He couldn’t have been more than fourteen years old her time, probably less than that. Juvenile Koopas. She’d never liked them. He wore a blue and white robe a few sizes too big, and the matching hat perched on his head was floppy, forcing him to keep pushing it out of his eyes. A pair of thick glasses rested on his snout. It was a wonder he could even see through those things. At his side was a leather satchel, a strap holding it up around his neck. It wasn’t very large, but it was probably magicked to hold more items than space should allow. And he was right about two things: he could fly, and she was hungry.
“Temporary alliance,” she cautiouslyagreed.
I love this scene because it really captures the relationship between these two characters that I was going for. Cackletta and Kamek have so much potential, I think, and I enjoy watching them bounce off each other. I wrote them here as rivals, but they’re still willing to form an alliance. Cackletta is stubborn and hates swallowing her pride to ask for help, and Kamek is a bit of a social, “Yay, this will be a super fun adventure!” bug. He grows more world-weary with age, but I was aiming for that side of his personality that will stop to chat with you about the lovely pink dress he’s wearing before you take him on in battle. I think I nailed it.
I also like how the worldbuilding is pretty seamlessly woven in (Cackletta’s struggle to use her magic under bright sunlight, and Kamek thinking he’s the big cheese even though he’s still learning his trade himself and dropping his crystal ball). It doesn’t come in all at once. I also love the little details, like smug Kamek being well-prepared with plenty of supplies, casually kicking back and asking Cackletta what’s on the map, while she’s been stumbling around with nothing for days. She’s definitely the rasher one between the two of them. “Food? We don’t need no stinkin’ food. We die like men.”
Even seven years later, it still holds up fairly well, wouldn’t you say? Wish I could say the same for the rest of the ‘fic, ha ha ha. Either way, I’m quite proud of my younger self’s abilities.
My other favorite Cackletta / Kamek rivalry piece would have to be “Our Pointless Magic Lesson”, which opens with those two having a magical snowball fight. Looks like even back then I was already slipping bits of biology into my worldbuilding. I gave Cackletta’s species feet bristles. Hee hee. Desert people. I certainly look forward to writing new Mario ‘fics with improved skills very soon.
Those are some scenes that I enjoy, and I hope that you guys enjoyed them too!
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corellian-smuggler · 7 years ago
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THE LAST JEDI SPOILERS REACTION - SPOILERS BELOW
So as you may know, I made the enormous mistake of seeing The Last Jedi in theaters Thursday night. I don’t know what on earth I was thinking, because TFA left me angry and upset and all of the promo leading up to this film was horrific. But I reasoned that I would need to at least be informed--being on tumblr with everyone inevitably arguing about it and without having seen the film would have been miserable. I also wanted to see the movie without spoilers so that my opinions wouldn’t be influenced prior to viewing. But also, despite having very low expectations, I couldn’t help but have just the TINIEST hope that maybe it wouldn’t be quite as bad as I was anticipating? Maybe at least I would be able to enjoy the storylines of Rey, Finn, and Poe? Maybe Luke’s role wouldn’t be THAT bad? And of course, I wanted to see Carrie Fisher in her final film.
As a result, I found myself in the theater with my twin brother, reasonably pessimistic but just the tiniest bit--despite myself--hopeful.
I have never suffered so much during a film in my entire life. There were multiple moments that made me consider getting up and walking out.
If you don’t want spoilers, DO NOT CONTINUE READING, because I am about to detail exactly why I was so upset.
1. The blatant assassination of Luke Skywalker’s character. Yes, he dies at the end of the film, but they killed him long before that. I don’t know who I was supposed to be seeing onscreen, but it was NOT Luke Skywalker. I’m starting with this because it was, in my opinion, the biggest, and most inexcusable transgression made by Rian Johnson (though don’t worry, there are multiple very close runners-up!). I started crying because of what was happening in front of me. First of all, the fact that Luke’s “first instinct” upon sensing the conflict in his nephew was evidently to ignite his lightsaber to kill him is without fail the most disgusting obliteration of a character I’ve ever witnessed. Who wrote this script??? Did they just not ever watch the original trilogy? The entire point of Luke’s character was his REFUSAL TO GIVE UP ON PEOPLE, and his UNWAVERING DEDICATION TO HIS FAMILY, and his INSISTENCE that his father could be saved. Did they miss the fact that even though Vader had ALREADY murdered countless innocent people and served the Emperor and aided in the establishment of a tyrannical, oppressive fascist regime, Luke’s IMMEDIATE reaction was “I won’t fight him, he’s my father, I have to save him.” Did they miss the part where Luke chose to THROW AWAY HIS LIGHTSABER rather than give in to fear and hatred and violence, even if it meant his father killing him? Even if it meant the rebellion’s demise? Did they miss the part where Luke’s FAITH--in humanity, in his family, in the Jedi and the Light Side of the Force--IS THE ENTIRE PURPOSE OF HIS CHARACTER?? THE ENTIRE PURPOSE OF STAR WARS?? THE ENTIRE POINT OF THE ORIGINAL TRILOGY?!?! THE TRIUMPH OF FAITH, WITH LUKE BEING THE VERY EMBODIMENT OF IT????? And for some reason I’m suppose to sit there and believe that Luke’s first impulse in sensing the “conflict” in Ben--his own nephew, who hadn’t even done anything bad yet--was to KILL HIM??? To kill HAN AND LEIA’S CHILD?!?!?!?! What the ever loving FUCK kind of travesty is that? Character assassination doesn’t even seem an adequate term for what this is.
And that’s just ONE PART OF IT. There’s also the fact that his nephew and Snoke are running around DESTROYING THE GALAXY and BLOWING UP PLANETS and Luke is THE ONLY PERSON IN THE GALAXY WHO CAN DEFEAT THEM, and he DOESN’T CARE. Rey literally shows up and tells him that Leia is begging for his help, that there are two powerful Dark Side Force wielders that they’re powerless to fight, and that Han is DEAD. And Luke doesn’t fucking care. Sorry, but a Luke Skywalker who doesn’t race off to help his loved ones is not Luke Skywalker at all. Once again, this is 100% entirely and completely incompatible with all three films of the OT. Add to that the fact that Luke spends the entire first 2/3 of the film bitterly sneering at himself--about how stupid he was, mocking the very notion of Luke Skywalker as a hero, shitting all over the Jedi, calling himself a vain, ignorant failure... It honestly felt like a personal attack. It was literally the way that angry, dangerous male Star Wars fans who insist that the rebels were terrorists and glorify the Empire and say that the Jedi were no better than the Sith talk about Luke: with spite and disdain and cruelly irreverent, angry scorn designed to cow and hurt the people who think of Luke and the rebels as heroes. Except it wasn’t some reddit post. It was happening onscreen and coming out of Luke’s own mouth.
I honestly, truly do not understand how any fan of the original trilogy could ever think that Luke Skywalker would be tempted to murder his nephew, or turn his back on the Jedi, or be unwilling to go to Leia after learning Han is DEAD, or just not care about the fact that without his intervention, billions of people would die or be enslaved. I was literally crying tears of fury and horror and disbelief and grief. And then, what? He has 5 seconds of remorse and uses the Force to project himself across the galaxy to buy time for the resistance, and then he just? Dies? 
What the fuck was the point of having him be in the movies, then? What was the point of including him in the films if all that they wanted him for was to destroy his legacy, make him out to be a coward, rip every single thing that was ever true about Luke Skywalker to shreds, and then give him a quick “redemption” and kill him off like he was nothing? He just fucking dies off on that island after years of hiding from his problems, and even at the very end insisting to Leia that he won’t try to save Ben, that he’s not a hero, that he’s nothing? I am just, so angry that my anger is the only thing standing between me and utter devastation. I literally watched Rian Johnson murder Luke Skywalker and piss on his grave. He did everything in his power to kill any notions that anyone had of Luke Skywalker as the hero he is.
2. Kylo Ren apologism. This was easily the second biggest thing I had a problem with. First and foremost, the fact that they had the AUDACITY to write off his fall to the Dark Side on LUKE SKYWALKER OF ALL PEOPLE. They were so desperate to make him “sympathetic” and “relatable”--and to contrive some bullshit reason for Luke to be in exile--that they decided to make LUKE be at fault?!?! It wasn’t enough that they had to imply in interviews that Han and Leia were “neglectful,” now they also have to tell us that Luke was trying to murder him? First of all, that still doesn’t excuse mass murder, let’s just be clear on that. NOTHING they could have written would have been a valid excuse for what Kylo Ren has done. Nothing would make it “ok” or understandable. 
So once again, the writers have gone out of their way to make one of the OT heroes look like a piece of shit for the sake of the new characters, no matter what a disservice it is to the original trilogy, to the fans who love it, and to the characters who MAKE Star Wars STAR WARS. I literally wish I could look Kathleen Kennedy and Rian Johnson in the eyes and demand that they try to explain themselves. I wish I could look them in the eyes and ask how they could have EVER thought it was acceptable to suggest that Luke “failed” his nephew, that he tried to kill him. I want to ask them to explain to Star Wars fans why they thought it was ok to sacrifice Luke Skywalker to the Kylo Ren storyline--to destroy Luke to create that monster.
And that’s not even speaking of the fact that they are literally asking the audience to sympathize with a fascist murderer. Half of the movie was trying to get viewers to “rethink” what they thought they knew about Kylo Ren, to see that it wasn’t his fault, that it was awful LUKE who tried to kill him, and what would we have done? Kylo Ren aids in blowing up billions of innocent people. He orders the death of a whole village of innocent people. He serves the supreme overlord of a paramilitary organization bent on conquering and enslaving the galaxy. He might not be officially Sith, but he IS the Dark Side, which is, in case the writers forgot, a PERVERSION of the Force and pure EVIL. How DARE Rian Johnson, in a reality where we turn on the news daily to find school shooters (which Kylo Ren has done), terrorist attacks (which Kylo Ren has participated in), rapists (which Kylo Ren has symbolically done), racists (Kylo Ren aids a racist military regime), and entitled, wrathful white pissbabies (which Kylo Ren is), and ask us to SYMPATHIZE with the embodiment of ALL of those things??? How can he dare expect us to have empathy for this man? And at the expense of LUKE SKYWALKER? 
And then there’s the fact that not once, but TWICE Kylo Ren is referred to as “just a boy,” first by Snoke and then by Luke. Funny, Kylo Ren was a grown man when he destroyed the Jedi Order, when last I checked. But please, tell me again how he’s only a CHILD, just like society does every time any twenty/thirty-something white man rapes/kills/shoots people. Snoke also says that Kylo Ren has “too much of Han Solo’s heart” in him. Now, granted this is coming from Snoke, so it was most likely just to manipulate and torment Kylo Ren, but nevertheless, as it was consistent with the near constant theme of infantilizing and humanizing Kylo Ren, it ENRAGED ME. Kylo Ren has not one single SLIVER of Han Solo’s heart in him. If he did, he would never have joined the Dark Side, or the remnants of the Empire. He would never have murdered countless people in cold blood. He would never have participated in a genocide. He would never have tortured innocent civilians. He would never have KILLED HIS FATHER or have ordered his army to KILL HIS MOTHER. Kylo Ren is NOTHING like Han Solo.
The forced romance with Rey and Kylo was absurd. First of all, I swear to you there are countless shitty fanfics that did this exact same fucking premise of the Force connection--right down to the lack of clothes--so literally we were fed bad fanfiction. Kylo Ren tortured Rey, killed her mentor before her eyes, mortally wounded her only friend, terrified her, invaded her mind while taunting her that he could take whatever he wanted and could invade all her private thoughts and feelings in a scene heavily coded as a metaphorical rape, and almost killed her in the last film. And yet, we’re supposed to believe that because, oh, that’s right, LUKE APPARENTLY TRIED TO KILL KYLO REN, that just excuses all those things Ren did to her and now she has romantic feelings for him? Someone please call up all the women in the world who have been beaten or raped and tell them about something traumatic that had happened in their abuser’s past; they’ll be sure to have romantic feelings for them then!!!! The scene where he had his shirt off?! As though he’s some desirable heartthrob eye candy, and not a WHINY, ENTITLED FASCIST DARK SIDE MURDERER and the VILLAIN of the franchise???? It was sickening.
And yet, I’m not even sure what any of it was trying to accomplish? They went through all that trouble to woobify him and make him “sympathetic” (*derisive snort*), but then he still ended up succeeding Snoke as the new Emperor 2.0 and establishing himself as DECIDEDLY evil, even heartlessly ordering the death of his own mother, and Luke AND LEIA now both said that he can’t be redeemed. So what was the point of all that woobification??? Because now rey will try to redeem him in IX? Yeah, hard pass on that, thanks.
Someone please explain to me why they are literally plot point for plot point giving Rey Luke’s exact story, but also at the same time ripping that story away from Luke as though he hadn’t already done it all before? 
3. Rey as a result was entirely unlikable in the film. I went from enjoying her character in the last movie despite all the film’s flaws and the fact that they destroyed Han, Luke, and Leia for her sake, to simply hating her. She came across as ridiculously stupid--walking straight back into the custody of the First Order mere days after having escaped, because now she’s in love with the man who violated and tortured her and killed her father figure and blew up multiple planets? Wtf? And not only that, but what had been a feminist achievement--a female protagonist of a Star Wars film--was turned into a young woman “understanding” the pain of a fascist murderer and “fixing him” with her love. But failing? So again..... what was the point? To make Rey look stupid? Well, they succeeded. It basically just felt like Rian Johnson getting away with putting his own weird sexual fantasies onscreen as much as he could get away with.
4. Finn and Rose were entirely irrelevant. Finn was BLATANTLY demoted from co-protagonist to supporting role, and his side-plot with Rose was so sloppily done that it was obvious his character was an afterthought at best. But we know why that is (racism. It’s because racism). Their little side-trip to casino planet was visually incompatible with the rest of the Star Wars films, rushed, poorly executed, and, above all else, entirely pointless. They accomplished literally nothing and would have died had it not been for Whatsherface Holdo. And that kiss at the end was so out of nowhere that I was literally in disbelief. They’d literally only known each other for a few hours, and yet somehow we’re already having talk of “saving what we love” and kissing???? It was so uncomfortable and fell so flat and was so obviously only included to shove Finn out of the way so that Rey could want Kylo Ren and try to soothe his Man PainTM. Because, once again, racism. Finn’s entire sequence of waking up, by the way, serving as cheap, demeaning comedy at his expense, was weird and unnecessary. Someone please explain to me why they needed to have him walk around base naked and squirting water all over the place? What even was that? Another moment that didn’t feel like it belonged in a Star Wars movie. Oh, and his being framed once again as a traitor and a deserter for trying to get off the ship in the escape pod. Uh, hey so, pretty sure Finn isn’t ENLISTED and therefore he wasn’t DESERTING, first of all, and second of all, pretty sick of this trend of making the heroes look like cowards while trying to make the villains look like victims.
5. Just general bad writing, mischaracterization and sloppy work. Literally nothing happened for the whole movie. The resistance ran away from the First Order for like two hours of screen time while Luke milked alien animal titty and sneered at Rey and refused to help his sister. Then the resistance almost escaped but didn’t and had to keep running away. Then the resistance almost escaped again but didn’t and had to keep running away again. And then they again were almost safe but weren’t, and finally had to run away for good. It was so underwhelming that I literally couldn’t even believe it was approved. Who signed off on this? The whole thing was just a ship running away from another ship with lots of mentions of “almost out of fuel!!!!” and then getting in a different ship to keep fleeing. 
Also, Leia did literally NOTHING in the whole movie except almost die, slap Poe in the face, stun Poe, and look sad. So? K cool. Also they made it a point to say that they were broadcasting a distress call with Princess Leia’s personal code “because people believe in Leia,” but then they said the distress call was received and ignored by their allies. Indicating that no one actually believes in or cares enough about Princess fucking Leia to go to her aid. Because they just really had to drive in the knife that the OT characters are irrelevant and sad distortions of what they once were. Oh, and as a result evidently the First Order was able to blow up multiple planets and no one else in the galaxy tried to stand up and stop them from trying to take power?
Poe for some reason was characterized as this trigger happy, impulsive, irresponsible hothead who blundered around a lot and almost got the resistance destroyed multiple times and then this was never resolved. He just kept blundering until the end when Rey lifted the boulders for their escape. So, AGAIN, making the heroes look bad for no reason.
That Holdo character was so dumb I don’t even understand????? Why couldn’t she just tell the resistance what the plan was???? Literally they were all on a ship running out of fuel and thinking she was planning to just keep running til they ran out of gas and all got blown up. That entire nonsense situation wouldn’t have happened if she had just told the people whose lives were in her hands that she wasn’t just giving them up for dead. And if she was planning to die herself anyways, why didn’t she lightspeed at the First Order sooner? And how did a collision at light speed not obliterate the entire ship? How the hell did Finn and Rose walk away from that? So sloppy, so many plot holes there.
All that build-up to Snoke and he was irrelevant and now dead. They literally just presented us with the half-baked Emperor rip-off and then said “nah JK” and disposed of him. He was entirely pointless. Why not just start off the trilogy with Kylo Ren as the Supreme Leader, then, for all the effect that Snoke had (none) on the story?
Rey went “straight to the Dark Side” while meditating and was sneaking around with Kylo Ren and Luke didn’t trust her motivations at all, but then Yoda just appears and says that Rey already knows everything she needs to know about being a Jedi without Luke needing to teach her (um, what? how? Two days prior she didn’t even know what the Force even was?) and then that’s just magically resolved and she’s just now somehow all good to take up the mantle of the last jedi in the galaxy? Despite her overt foray into the Dark Side, which was seemingly without remorse? Despite the fact that she legit didn’t have a single second of training other than Luke telling her “the Force binds all living things and the Jedi shouldn’t have fucked with it”? Also, how could she do a Jedi mind trick without trying? How could she levitate stones without training? How could she best Luke with no training? Entirely inconsistent with the previous two trilogies, as was every word that came out of Yoda’s and Luke’s mouths. And then Snoke calling her a Jedi? SHE WASN’T A JEDI!!!! 
Leia saying “I changed my hair” as her first words to Luke? What the hell was that? I understand that it was a nod at what Han said to her in VII, but it was out of place and wrong. She should have run to him and hugged, like she did every single other time they reunited in the OT. 
The whole thing about Luke’s death being at peace seemed like they needed Rey and Leia to explain it to the audience, because otherwise no one would get it because it made no sense. Also the way they lowkey implied that Luke had finally gotten “purpose” with his death, as if he hadn’t already had purpose BEFORE when he was SAVING THE WHOLE GALAXY???? As if Luke needed to be redeemed???? Why was I given a story in which Luke Skywalker, the HERO, was in need of a redemption? And am I to understand that he just, exerted himself to death? Uh, ok......? Where’s that meme of Padme saying “Guess I’ll die” when you need it?
Also why was the ancestral Skywalker family lightsaber calling to Rey if she’s not related to them (assuming that Kylo Ren was telling the truth)? Why was she seeing Luke in her dreams? Because she’s “The chosen one”? Didn’t we already HAVE a chosen one? And speaking of that... wasn’t that supposed to have brought balance to the Force? And it... didn’t?
I’m glad that Luke legit asked who the fuck Rey was to be the one to be sent to him, because that made literally no sense whatsoever.
The scenes were cutting all over the place and felt choppy. The pacing was rushed and the plot forced in many places. The tone was all over the place. The humor was inappropriate and fell flat. It visually did not look like Star Wars. In fact, I felt like Rian Johnson did everything in his power to give us a movie that was as un-Star Wars-like as possible.
6. Somehow also an awful rehash of Empire Strikes Back?? If you were paying attention to the plot, it’s not hard to figure out that they were trying to subtly give us Empire Strikes Back in disguise. Film starts with the evacuation of the rebel--oops sorry, resistance base. Proceed to have two of our main heroes being pursued by the Empire across the galaxy, while the Force Sensitive Protagonist is off trying to persuade the Exiled Jedi Master to train her, and he doesn’t want to. Then she ventures into a Dark Side cave and has a disturbing (and just weird?) vision. Then, while Secondary Heroes try to outrun the Empire First Order, she convinces the Exiled Jedi to train her against his best judgment, but she has More Force Visions of her friends of the man whose dick she seemingly wants to suck and so she Leaves Exile Planet to go have a Confrontation with the Evil Force User where she learns a revelation about her parents and is invited to join the Dark Side but Makes An Escape. Then more fleeing from the Empire First Order. Then she rejoins the other lead characters in time to Escape Again, with some slight deviation from the plot--jumping ahead for Luke to die à la Yoda at the beginning of ROTJ, just as she reached her “Dagobah” a film early, as well.
They literally tried to sell us the exact same movie--but they used the same template with all the wrong actual content. They made a cheap knock-off of ESB and filled it with a Luke Skywalker in disgrace, a protagonist flirting (in more ways than one) with the Dark Side, the normalization of the Dark Side, and the destruction of central Star Wars themes.
So, all in all, they are simply reselling the original trilogy but also undoing the original trilogy and assassinating Han, Luke, and Leia as they go. I left the theater the instant the credits rolled. The ONLY positive thing I can say about it is that Mark and Carrie (RIP, she was hard to watch) gave good performances, even though their characters were ruined. I am heartbroken and obviously very angry. I am aware that this was supposed to be a review but became instead an angry rant, but I am as unapologetic of that fact as is Rian Johnson for what he’s done. In my opinion, Star Wars is irrevocably destroyed. The damage following VII was considerable, but this film just really took the cake. This is not my Star Wars, and I will never make the mistake of seeing another Star Wars movie again.
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learninghowtomissher · 4 years ago
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the in-between place || 03/26/2021 (nine years)
The other day I woke up in a haze. You know, that in-between place, where you’re not technically sleeping, but you’re otherwise in a dreamlike state? Anyway, I woke up, took my  morning cocktail of pain medication, and picked up my phone. All of that has become reflexive upon waking up. The pain medication is never far from my reach, and my phone has always lived under my pillow -- yeah, yeah I know it’s bad for me. I took a sip of water, hoping to rid myself of the feeling that my meds had become traffic-jammed in my throat. I looked down at my phone, and gaped at the screen. Somewhere in those reflexive, every day, new normal actions, I had done something I don’t think I’d ever done before. Google search results stared back at me: “Sania Wali UNMC” More to the point, an image result. There she was. It’s a criminally low quality photo, but there is no mistaking her. A beaming smile, periwinkle sweater, and painfully 90s leather jacket, standing at a 2002 Holiday Tea at the Med Center. I had never seen that photo before. I had seen that building -- UNMC was like a second home growing up. I had seen her don periwinkle, her favorite color, many times. I wish I didn’t know that jacket so well (sorry, mom). But I’d never seen this photo. Among a myriad of thoughts flowing through my mind as I smiled back at her face, her vibrance palpable despite low pixels, one thought rang out clearer than the others: She was real. Then waves of relief. Then waves of heartache and recognition that for so long now she has felt like a fictional character. A figment of my imagination. A piece of folklore. I wouldn’t change anything about being the only child of my single mother. But the very things that made our us-against-the-world love and bond so strong, made the loss uniquely devastating, now make me feel like I’m losing my mind. It feels like no one else remembers. Sometimes it feels like I don’t remember, either. 
I kept clicking links. There weren’t many, and the evidence of her life was small within them. But it was something. Someone’s CV came up in the Google search, so I clicked and scrolled. He was on the judging panel for my mom when she defended her thesis. “Wali, Sania. The Effect of Prenatal Exposure to Lorazepam on Adult Rat Offspring Behavior, 1994, University of Nebraska Medical Center, M.S. “ I already knew I could cry over citations, thanks to Bluebooking in law school, but not like this. And as someone with a legitimate phobia of rats, it also wasn’t new for the thought of them to push me to tears. But, again, not like this. If I think about this discovery for too long, I feel the white-hot anger within me transform from its ever-present hum to a screeching alarm demanding attention. The CV in question is long, reflecting a medical career full of accomplishments and spanning many decades. My mom should have had that. And here she is reduced to a citation on someone else’s. Still, my tears were as happy as they were mournful, equally proud and indignant. It’s something. She was real. Other people knew her, learned from her, and loved her. I simply can’t do justice to how it felt. To learn a new fact about her, to find a photo I hadn’t already pored over, I didn’t think I would ever experience that again. 
At the risk of alarming you, It’s hard to explain how uninspired I feel to be an active participant in my own life since being discharged from the hospital. I keep trying to express why to my therapist and to loved ones who want to know how my recovery is going, and all I’ve come up with is, “I don’t feel like myself.” And that’s mostly true. I don’t feel like a 25-year-old. I don’t feel like a law student. I don’t feel like a friend. I don’t feel like an aspiring-lawyer. But I also feel exactly like myself: sad, lonely, mourning the loss of someone (my mom) or something (a chunk of lung, my perceived healthiness, the loss of normalcy in already bizarre times). 
When I was in the hospital, it was easy to feel unmoored from reality. From myself. Some of it was probably the pain meds. A lot of it was looking at my surroundings and seeing nothing of mine. No friends, no family. Nothing familiar. And, yet, something. When they brought out the scalpel to insert my chest tube, I thought of the way my mom’s reputation preceded her as a surgeon in the refugee camp: “If someone really needed help, you called Sania. She could cut as fast with her left hand as her right.” I felt it in the ease with which I understood my medical team’s terminology as they discussed amongst themselves, and in their surprised amusement when I asked follow-up questions that made my understanding obvious. (“I thought you were in law school.”) The hospital’s visual resemblance to UNMC mercifully dug up memories of accompanying my mom to work and not visiting her there as a patient. In spite of how miserable I was, I was also at peace in a way I haven’t been in almost a decade. Content, in a twisted way. There was so much of her to be found everywhere I looked. So coming home has been hard. In the ways you would expect, and in ways you wouldn’t. In ways I didn’t. 
In the past few weeks, my mom has become the chief consideration in everyday decisions. Perfume with cardamom base notes, because I know she would like the smell. Mom jeans that, aptly-named, look like something I would’ve rolled my eyes at her for wearing. Earrings reminiscent of her favorite gold hoops. Celine Dion’s compilation album from 1999. Taylor Swift’s first three albums. Anything starring Denzel Washington. Sports highlights from the 2010 Lakers-Celtics NBA finals. I’ve come to realize that I’m desperate to make the world around me one that would be familiar to her, the way the hospital felt bizarrely familiar to me. A world she would recognize, and recognize me in. I know it’s in vain. She never met Nick. I don’t know if she ever visited Washington DC. We never discussed law as a career path. Enrique Iglesias has not released an album anywhere near as good as Escape. The Huskers suck at football. We’re in a pandemic. Life is nothing like it was when she was here, but it’s hard not to wish it was so. And it’s really hard not to feel resentful toward the obvious markers that life has changed, even when those markers are things and people I love. 
So I don’t feel like Leemah, the resilient advocate, soon-to-be lawyer, and unparalleled social butterfly. (And so humble, too!) I feel Leemah, the little girl whose whole world is her mother and who likes it that way. And I don’t know how to convince myself that it’s worth getting back to myself. I like it here. In this place of make-believe, where it feels like at any moment she might walk in to ask if I want chai. I know that I am deluding myself, but I also know that I’m remembering more. Yesterday, unprompted, our first phone number sprang to mind with such clarity. Today I can picture an old favorite skirt of hers that I’d forgotten. Black with white and red flowers. And some distant tomorrow I know that I will have to rejoin my life. I have a degree to finish. Friends to reconnect with. Nice days to enjoy. Reality to acknowledge. And I know that the longer I put it off, the worse it will eventually feel. But the cruelty of my medical trauma coinciding with what is already the hardest time of year for me is a lot for one person to confront, and I can only handle so much pain and healing at once. So, I think I’m just going to live here for now. In this in-between place, where she feels familiar and close by and real. 
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afjakwritesarchive · 7 years ago
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NWC 22
Another super late NWC make up! 
Pairing: USUK Words: 2,993 Rating: T AU: royalty/arranged marriage Genre: Romance Summary:   Arthur Kirkland fell in love with his best friend on their third wedding anniversary.
Arthur Kirkland fell in love with his best friend on their third wedding anniversary.
They’d been engaged for only a month before their wedding, and had met only once in that time. Arthur had been twenty at the time, and, needing a queen in order to take the throne, his parents had selected the then nineteen-year-old Alfred. Their choice had been based primarily upon his intelligence, for he was a genius when it came to mathematics, science, and strategy. However, he was also an extremely outgoing and likable person, which would complement Arthur well. Despite Arthur’s best attempts to seem outgoing and friendly, he usually came off as being somewhat rude. Of course, those who knew him found him to be extremely kind and caring, but it was challenging for him to convey that with strangers. Thus, Alfred would be extremely beneficial where diplomatic meetings were concerned; he would be able to charm whomever they were with and help to guide Arthur.
As time wore on, though, Arthur found that Alfred was his complement in more than matters of diplomacy. While Arthur was calm and quiet with a strong logical side, Alfred was loud and boisterous with a tendency to look mainly at the emotional side of things. Alfred preferred math and science to Arthur’s literature, which allowed them to teach other things. Furthermore, Alfred was an avid participant in modern trends and popular culture, while Arthur was far more absorbed in other things to care. They gave each other new and refreshing perspectives on life, and made areas of their lives which had previously been difficult to navigate exponentially easier. It was an extremely beneficial relationship for both parties, and over the course of their time together Alfred and Arthur grew into extremely close friends, both harboring a deeply rooted affection for the other.
Arthur had noticed his affection for Alfred growing deeper when, on the day of their third wedding anniversary, Alfred walked into Arthur’s bedroom with breakfast on a tray along with Arthur’s favorite book and a bouquet of red roses.
“Happy Anniversary, Arthur!” Alfred had sung happily as he set the tray in his lap. “I know we’re not a couple or anything, but I wanted to show you how much you mean to me, so I brought you some of your favorites,” Alfred said as he placed the book and flowers on Arthur’s nightstand.
It was that morning when, upon looking at Alfred to thank him, Arthur’s heart had begun to pound. His face had flushed and he’d suddenly begun to muse at the incredible beauty his husband possessed, wondering why he’d never noticed the Adonis he’d married before.
Since then, Arthur’s infatuation had only grown deeper. He found himself thinking of Alfred frequently, and before the long the American had completely consumed this thoughts. He marveled at his husband’s kindness and compassion, and spent nights awake reminiscing on the wonderful times they’d spent together. In Alfred’s presence, his pale face would turn red against his wishes, and he’d be rendered a foolishly clumsy mess, melting every time Alfred looked his way. The sound of his voice had gained the power to wipe Arthur’s mind. While he was the King of Spades, Arthur had become nothing short of a lovestruck servant to his unwitting husband; for every time Alfred set those blue eyes upon Arthur, the Brit was seized by the sudden desire to personally fulfill each and every one of Alfred’s desires.
Arthur knew he’d fallen in love with Alfred. Unlike before, he was no longer simply resigned to the knowledge that he would spend the rest of his life with Alfred—now, he rejoiced at it. The idea of being with Alfred until his last breath comforted him, for Alfred was the one person whom Arthur felt both understood the person he was completely, and loved that person despite his many flaws.
He was everything Arthur had never known he’d wanted, and, after almost six months of mulling his feelings over, Arthur had finally decided to make his affection for Alfred known. He’d prepared an extremely dashing and romantic speech for the American, to be paired with roses which he’d stowed in his walk-in-closet until they were to be presented to Alfred. He was just about to ask a servant to call Alfred into his study when a knock came at the door and the man himself poked his head into the room from behind the door.
“Hey, Arthur?” Alfred asked.
Arthur’s thin lips spread into a happy smile. “Ah, Alfred, I was just about to send for you. Come in, please.”
Alfred smiled in return and stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. “You were gonna send for me? What did you need?”
“We can get to that in a moment,” Arthur said, suddenly nervous. Attempting to steady his racing heart and prepare for the confession that was to come, he prompted Alfred, “did you want to speak to me?”
“Oh! Yeah, I did. Remember what you told me on our wedding night? Um, about seeing other people?” Alfred asked.
Arthur frowned. He remembered well what he’d told Alfred when they’d been alone after their wedding. He’d explained to the American that if he ever desired someone else, Arthur wouldn’t be upset. Because it was a marriage for politics rather than romance, Arthur had told Alfred he didn’t expect him to remain faithful. He had told his husband not to worry about being true to a man he didn’t love, and that if he ever found someone else he need only tell Arthur and be sure to keep it secret so the public didn’t catch wind of it. Alfred had agreed to this and told Arthur that he was welcome to the same, which Arthur had found very admirable at the time. Now, however, the thought made him sick. He detested the idea of being with anyone aside from Alfred almost as much as he detested the idea of Alfred being with someone else.
“…Yes, I remember.” Arthur replied, trying to keep the dread that was quickly building within him out of his tone.
“Cool. Well, um, I found someone I kinda like, so… I wanted to give you a heads up. Nothing’s serious yet, but he seems great and I wanted to let you know and make sure it was still cool with you and everything. It’s um, Ivan Braginski, the King of Clubs.” Alfred explained with a sheepish smile set upon his face.
Arthur forced a smile onto his even as his heart fell deep into the pit of his stomach. “Oh, well, that’s lovely,” he said, forcing his tone to be light and cheerful as he feigned happiness for his best friend. “Of course, Alfred, you are free to be with whoever you wish. I’m very happy for you.”
The smile that Alfred adopted as a result of his words shattered Arthur’s heart.
“Thanks, Artie! By the way, what did you want to talk to me about?” Alfred asked, beaming.
Arthur blinked. “Oh, nothing. I was just going to ask about your day, but I’m realizing now that I’ve got so much paperwork to do, and I’d better start on it.”
“Oh! Yeah, totally, sorry to bug you. Let me know if you want to hang out later, okay?” Alfred asked before leaving the room and shutting the door behind him.
Arthur went to the door and locked it with a trembling hand. Tears were already falling freely from his green eyes as he slumped into his armchair.
Alfred was crying.
No—Arthur corrected himself as he wrapped an arm around his friend’s trembling shoulders—Alfred was sobbing.
He’d walked in to Alfred’s room only seconds before after the American had been late to lunch, only to find the man curled up in bed and sobbing profusely. Arthur had seen the American cry before—the man was prone to tears at any sort of emotional display, especially in movies and television—but never like this. Alfred’s eyes were red and puffy and he was shaking, crying so hard his breaths had turned into short, gasping hiccups for breath around his tears.
“Alfred, darling, darling, what’s wrong?” Arthur had asked as he clambered into Alfred’s bed and wrapped his arms around the man.
Alfred hadn’t responded, merely laying limp in his arms. He was crying so hard he was fighting for breath, a fact which nearly sent the King into a panic.
“Alfred, please, take a deep breath. Shhh, darling, it’s alright, just breathe, love. Yes, that’s it; try to breathe, darling.” Arthur said in a gentle whisper as Alfred began to take in longer, albeit incredibly shaky, breaths in.
Finally, he was able to form a sentence. “I-I thought he loved me, Arthur,” Alfred whimpered.
Arthur frowned. “What happened, darling?” He asked, already feeling anger begin to well up inside of him.
Alfred and Ivan had been together for six months. Arthur had met Ivan several times and knew that Alfred was absolutely smitten with him. For the first month of their relationship, Alfred could hardly talk of anything but the handsome King of Clubs. Though it made Arthur miserable to see Alfred in love with someone else, knowing his Queen was happy encouraged Arthur to stick it out despite the hell it put him through. Alfred had romance after three and a half years of being married to someone he didn’t love, and Arthur couldn’t take that away from him no matter the heartache.
“I don’t know,” Alfred whimpered. “I just—H-He told me loved me yesterday and then—th-then today all of a sudden h-he’s saying he never wants to see me again a-and he hates me a-and… I-I don’t understand, I-I—Alfred began to cry again.
Arthur quickly started carding his fingers gently through Alfred’s hair, soothing him until the American had calmed enough to breath steadily once more. "Darling, I’ve no clue what happened, but I assure you that any man who would say such awful things to someone as wonderful as you is clearly out of his damn mind.” Arthur murmured.
“But I-I don’t get it! Just last night he told me wanted to be with me forever and then today he wakes up and tells me hates me! A-And he left so fast, I didn’t even get to say anything…!” Alfred cried.
Rage burned hot within Arthur, only subdued by the knowledge that Alfred needed him to be calm and soothing. If it weren’t for the American in his arms, Arthur was sure he’d already be halfway to Clubs to kick Ivan’s arse. The thought of him speaking so cruelly to Alfred made his blood boil and he wanted more than anything to make Ivan pay for each and every tear his Queen cried.
“I’m sorry, Alfred. Anyone who could treat you that way is a fool. He isn’t worth your time, nor your tears. You are deserving of someone much better than he.” Arthur murmured gently.
Alfred shook his head and wiped away his tears. “Thanks, Arthur… A-Am I keeping you from something right now?”
Arthur shook his head, green eyes soft and comforting. “No, darling, don’t worry about that. There’s nowhere more important than here, making sure you’re alright.”
“No, that’s okay, I’ll be alright. I just—I-I just lost my head for a second. I’m okay.” Alfred said, forcing a reassuring smile onto his handsome face. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be up in a few minutes, I swear.”
“I’ll stay with you,” Arthur said gently. “You needn’t lie to me.”
Alfred turned and met Arthur’s gaze, their noses brushing. “Okay,” he mumbled.
“I will never deny you when you need me, Alfred.” Arthur added, feeling the need to assure Alfred of his affection.
Alfred smiled sadly. “Why can’t I find a guy like you?” He asked.
Arthur’s heart cracked.
Life moved on rather quickly from there. Surprising Arthur, Alfred recovered from his heartbreak relatively fast; he claimed to be completely over Ivan only a month after their breakup. It surprised Arthur, but he supposed it was to be expected. Alfred was already an incredibly strong person, and since the breakup the pair had been spending much more time together, meaning that Alfred had even more moral support to help him through the difficult time.
Lately, though, Alfred had been acting odd.
He certainly wasn’t sad—that much Arthur could be sure of. He was back to his usual sunshiney self, but there was something different about him. Alfred had always had difficulty with the idea of personal space, but lately he’d been even worse with it than usual. He was always finding an excuse to touch Arthur, and casual contact quickly became the norm between them. Furthermore, Alfred seemed more flirtatious. While he never said outright that he had any feelings for Arthur, he often hinted at an attraction toward the man, making flirtatious and often excessively cheesy comments to or about his King.
It was extremely confusing, however not entirely unwelcome to Arthur. Alfred being even more affectionate than before was a welcome change, as it introduced hope of the younger man one day reciprocating the feelings which had long tormented Arthur. To think that Alfred might one day love him back set Arthur’s heart ablaze. He couldn’t imagine anything more wonderful than having Alfred for his partner in life rather than simply a political alliance, albeit he was sure he would always be happy with their friendship if Alfred never wanted more.
“So, my king, what’s on the agenda for today?” Alfred asked. Lately, he’d taken to teasingly referring to Arthur as “my king”, because it set Arthur’s face on fire each and every time without fail.
“Hmm…” Arthur’s eyes ran down the document his adviser handed him and he blinked. “…The King of Clubs has requested an audience with you as soon as possible. According to this he arrived early this morning and has taken up residence in a guest room until your meeting.”
Alfred’s eyes widened. He gaped. Then, “okay, fine. What room?”
“The East Wing’s pink room.” Arthur said, referring to the pink theme of the room.
Alfred nodded, a determined look on his face. “Alright. See you soon.” He said before stomping out of the room, his footsteps echoing down the marble hallway.
Arthur gulped, trying his hardest to keep the sadness from his face as he went about completing the small tasks listed on the rest of the day’s agenda. The talks took him all of an hour, and Alfred had spent the entire time locked in the pink room with Ivan. Arthur knew they were most likely wrapped up in each other, their problems worked out and their love renewed. He tried not to be upset about it, telling himself that he could find comfort in Alfred’s happiness. Even so, he found himself pacing his study as time ticked away.
Finally, Alfred appeared back in Arthur’s study, a bright smile on his face. “Thank God that’s settled!” He said, relief in his tone as he flopped down upon Arthur’s armchair.
“What happened?” Arthur asked, taking his friend’s happiness as a sign that he and Ivan were back together.
“Well, he came to me with some bullshit about how he’d made a mistake, and after listening to him ramble about it forever and ever, I called him out on his bullshit. He was pretty convincing, and I admit that I almost took him back, but he said something to me and I realized it would be a mistake.”
Arthur’s jaw dropped. “Wh-What did he say?” He asked in shock.
“He said: "look at me, Alfred, and tell me I’m not the person you want to spend the rest of your life with”. And I looked at him, and realized that I was already married to the only person I want to spend the rest of my life with.“ Alfred said, gazing intently at Arthur.
The Brit froze. ”…What?“ He asked, wide-eyed and gaping.
"I don’t want Ivan anymore, Arthur. After he left, you took care of me and I realized—all this time, there was one person who was always there for me. One person who was never away when I needed something—advice, help, or just companionship. And it wasn’t him. It was you.” Alfred stood up, stepping closer to Arthur.
“A-Alfred, I—”
“I’ve been an idiot all this time, Arthur. I—I love you. And I understand if you don’t love me back, but I’m willing to spend the rest of my life trying to win you over, ‘cause I finally understand that you’re the one I’m meant to be with.”
Teary-eyed, Arthur rushed forward and captured Alfred’s hand in his. “You idiot! I’ve been in love with you for almost two bloody years now!” He cried before raising Alfred’s hand to his lips.
Alfred’s watery blue eyes were filled with love as he gazed at Alfred. “Then you should stop kissing my hand and start kissing my lips,” he said with a chuckle before grabbing Arthur and wrenching him forward, wrapping an arm around his waist.
Arthur grinned. “Gladly, my love,” he purred before leaning in.
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followtheintuition · 7 years ago
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Relapses are hard. They’re scary, and they’re difficult, and you may feel recovery isn’t working. Relapses can make you lose all hope of ever getting better. I had many relapses in recovery, but it was all a part of the learning process! Just remember that nothing is broken! You have to get up and keep going!
Everybody has experienced some sort of relapse in recovery. You’re not alone, and you’re not a failure. You’re a human being just like the rest of us!
The most important thing is to learn from your relapse. What were the warning signs? What triggered you? How can you avoid it next time? If you learn from it, you can brush off the dust and continue along your road to recovery.
So in this video, I will discuss some warning signs that will indicate you are heading towards a relapse. What to look out for and avoid.
1. Restriction of any kind
Sometimes people still do not comprehend fully that restriction will NEVER lead to recovery. If you want a full recovery restriction cannot, ever, be an option for you.
Maybe you are freaked out by the extreme hunger or just the fact that you hunger does not seem fully normal yet and you start to come up with all those reasons why your recovery is different and why you need to “eat intuitively” aka “not more than your eating disorder feels comfortable with”. You only allow yourself to eat until full and do not respond to the extreme hunger or mental hunger because that would be “bingeing” and “wrong” and will only result in “unnecessary” weight gain. This is not healthy and it’s another eating disorder way to make you restrict. You are not following the body but are following your fears about eating and weight gain.
I have to stress that intuitive eating comes after recovery, and you do not have to force it to happen. If you do, it might just be another form of restriction because the recovery symptoms like extreme hunger, bloating, water retention, and digestive issues are just freaking you out.
Another example is that you may feel “ready” – way too soon in your recovery – to start exercising again. You convince yourself that from now on you’re just being “healthy” or you “looove to run” or it’s your “me time.” In some cases, it might be true, but if you find yourself being more and more religious about it, and you feel guilty if you miss a day (or a month or a year) of exercise, it is very likely (and probable) that you’re not doing it for pure fun and enjoyment but because you think you “have to.” In your head, the weight gain in recovery is “unnecessary.”
Or you may start to exercise again despite still having many symptoms of starvation: no menstruation, still feeling cold all the time, gaining weight easily when you eat until fullness, bloating, retaining water, constipation. These are clear signs that you should continue to avoid all exercise and eat, rest, repeat.
2. You start to collect “thinspiration” pictures on your Pinterest account.
This one is just as an example, but I hope you know what I mean in general. If in any way you start to engage in (or you never actually stopped) looking for images, videos of perfect bodies, or health gurus who are skinny, you’re engaging in the eating disorder. You are still doing the things that keep your eating disorder alive. You follow fitness accounts on Instagram or other social media platforms, you look for diet advice to be “lean and healthy,” – blah blah blah. Stop it, you are heading towards a relapse!
3. Focusing on weight loss
I know that water retention and bloating are both very uncomfortable. Gaining ten pounds in a day is a bitch, and you want to make it pass, but you have to let it go and just wait it out! It will even out as long as you do not relapse.
With weight gain – bloating, water retention, indigestion, or real weight gain – most people hope they will be the exception. “Maybe I’ll be different! Maybe I am the unicorn, and I won’t gain weight. Or if I do, it’s not because of healing but because something is very wrong – and I have to eat less!”
But I’m 101% sure you are not different, and weight gain of some sort (yes, even when already weight restored or even overweight) will happen to you in recovery. Why am I so sure? Because it happens simply because you finally stopped all restrictive behaviors. You start eating enough, and your metabolism is still slow, so you will have bloating, water retention, more food in your system, and slower digestion – and all of these factors contribute to weight gain in recovery. But for the most part, it’s not “real” weight gain. Yes, you will gain some real weight like fat, muscle, and bone mass if your body needs it – and if it’s needed, it’s essential, and you can’t do anything about it! But if you choose to go through full recovery – eat enough and stop exercising, purging, and participating in any other restrictive behaviors – your metabolism will go back to normal, and you’ll restore your body’s normal functions. It’s the best thing you can do for your weight!
4. Too much worry about healthy eating
Eating healthy overall is great, and everybody should learn about nutrition basics like eating more whole foods. Concern about our health is normal, and we should definitely pay attention to it, but I’m talking about the extremes here – the type of healthy eating that makes you miserable and unhealthy instead of making you happy and healthy. The kind of eating that puts you in a very tight restrictive box and gives you an eating disorder.
So many of the people who write to me also come from a past of clean eating and orthorexia like tendencies. If they feel their health is not “optimal,” they automatically start to blame their “unhealthy” diet and beat themselves up about the pizza they had a few days ago because that must be the cause of all their crappy symptoms, not the fact that they are recovering from an eating disorder. So this triggers them to “eat clean” from that point on. They might slowly exclude some things from their diet, and little by little, they fall back into the obsession. They see other “health conscious” people posting triggering food photos on Instagram #glutenfreeforlife and automatically feel guilty about what they’re eating. Intuitive eating is quickly forgotten, and instead, it’s hello rules, food fears, and obsessions!
The way I got myself out of this behavior in recovery was to always remind myself that I wanted to keep eating all the foods I genuinely like, and I wanted to continue being an intuitive eater because it was important for my mental health, not just my physical body. Our mind and body are interconnected. They work together. I knew that restricting the “unhealthy” foods actually made me crave them even more in the long run. Restriction made me binge-prone and obsessed. It’s only when I allow all kinds of foods in my diet, with no restriction, that I don’t crave them so often or in as large amounts. I saw that for my physical health, it was wiser to eat them every now and again than to restrict them completely and then have binge episodes, cravings, food-related stress, and obsession.
5. Former triggering eating disorder behaviors
Any diet behavior will trigger you to relapse and can be a sign that you are already relapsing. Weighing and measuring yourself, body-checking, Paleo/low-fat/gluten-free diet recipe searching or following –all of these previous eating disorder behaviors are signs of relapse or impending relapse. Communicating with other eating disordered people who are not recovering can be a trigger for you as can calorie counting to make sure you do not eat “too much” or eating from blue dishes with chopsticks. You know your former disordered behaviors better than anybody so make sure you get them out of your life for good!
6. Trying to be perfect in recovery
It’s important to realize that recovery is not another diet where you fail. Even though I listed here all possible triggers for your eating disorder, I want to tell you that it’s not possible to be one hundred percent perfect in recovery. Erasing all your triggers and going to full recovery with absolutely no setbacks? Maybe it happens in recovery fairyland, but that’s not real life. Recovery is a journey, and all mistakes are learning experiences.
Nobody expects you to be perfect. Be realistic instead! Expecting to be perfect is another sure way to trigger relapse because if something goes wrong (and it will!), you might just give up altogether because you’ll automatically think it isn’t working. It’s the mindset of “Oh well… I screwed up today so I might as well binge and purge for the rest of the night and start tomorrow…”. If you have this mindset in recovery you will already set yourself up for a failure.
If you climb a mountain and fall a few steps back because there were some loose rocks you didn’t expect, it doesn’t mean you have to go all the way back down and start again from ground zero…or you should start intentionally loosening even more rocks because you can start climbing again from “tomorrow” (makes no sense!). Taking a few steps back does not mean you have to start from the beginning… or that you have to make it even worse by quitting recovery today by going into a full-blown ED-mode because you can start “fresh” from tomorrow…(insanity!) Instead, celebrate the road you have traveled thus far in your recovery, and just continue going!
If you want to learn more about recovery you can take my FREE video course “6 Steps To Recover From An Eating Disorder” or read my step by step recovery book “BrainwashED: Diet-Induced Eating Disorders. How You Got Sucked In And How To Recover.”
Hope you found this video and information helpful!
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ebenpink · 6 years ago
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The 30-day eating challenge that can blow your mind—and transform your body. http://bit.ly/31BdlDZ
Diet challenges are usually all about what you can’t eat. But what if you could see huge results from a self-experiment that doesn’t make any foods off-limits? Instead of focusing on what you eat, our 30-day eating challenge emphasizes how you eat. And the results? They could be transformational.
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“You want the next level stuff?” I asked.
“Do this first, and let’s see if you can handle it.”
The nutrition advice I’d just given Cameron Lichtwer wasn’t what he expected, so I made it a challenge.
As an instructor at the British Columbia Personal Training Institute, a strength and conditioning coach, and a former competitive athlete, Cameron was no stranger to exercise and nutrition. In fact, he thought he’d tried it all.
But my advice? It was so… basic. Wasn’t he far beyond that?
Well, no. Because what I told him can help almost anyone, from the most advanced dieters to those who’ve struggled with healthy eating for a lifetime.
“Eat slowly and mindfully.”
I know: It sounds too ridiculously simple to work.
But guess what? It was exactly what Cameron needed. In two months, his body fat dropped from 13.9 percent to 9.5 percent, the lowest level he’s ever achieved. This was without weighing and measuring food, or following a restrictive meal plan.
Soon after he started, he sent me this text:
“I can’t believe it. I’m losing fat and destroying my workouts. I’m sleeping better. I feel awesome.”
Cameron was surprised by the results he got from such a simple process.
But I wasn’t.
Eating slowly is one of the core practices of Precision Nutrition Coaching.
Because it works.
So why not try the slow-eating challenge yourself?
Practice it for just 30 days, and you may be shocked at what you achieve—even if you don’t change anything else.
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5 ways this 30-day eating challenge will change your body and mind.
When it comes to eating better, most folks worry about the little details:
“Are potatoes fattening?”
“If I don’t drink a protein shake after my workout, is it even worth exercising?”
“Is keto really the best way to lose weight? Or should I be doing Paleo? Or what about the alkaline diet?!”
Yet they eat over the kitchen sink. Or in their car. Or in a daze while in front of the TV.
And who can blame them? We’ve been taught to think about what we eat, not how we eat.
That’s too bad since…
Eating slowly and mindfully can actually be more important than:
what you eat
when you eat
getting anything else “perfect”
Now, this may seem a bit controversial. After all, if you only eat Oreos, the speed at which you consume them isn’t your biggest problem.
But setting aside the extremes, slow eating may be the single most powerful habit for driving major transformation.
Instead of having to figure out which foods to eat, in what frequency, and in what portions—all important factors, of course—eating slowly is the simplest way anyone can start losing weight and feeling better, immediately. (Like, after your first slow-eaten meal.)
That fuels confidence and motivation, and from there, you can always tighten up the details.
Because why go to the complicated stuff right away, when you can get incredible results without it?
Slow eating isn’t just for nutrition newbies. Nutrition nerds can also see big benefits. If you’re like Cameron, for example, it could be the key to unlocking never-before-seen progress. In fact, we’ve seen it work for physique competitors, fitness models, and even Olympic athletes.
Slow eating is like the secret weight loss weapon everyone has access to, but nobody knows about.
That’s because it can help you…
1. Eat less without feeling deprived.
Sure, many popular diets claim this as a benefit. But with slow eating, this phenomenon can occur even if you don’t change what you’re eating.
For example, in one study, University of Rhode Island researchers served the same pasta lunch to 30 normal-weight women on two different days. At both meals, participants were told to eat until comfortably full.
But they were also told:
Lunch 1: Eat this meal as fast as you can.
Lunch 2: Eat slowly and put your utensils down between every bite.
The results:
When eating quickly, the women consumed 646 calories in 9 minutes.
When eating slowly, they consumed 579 calories in 29 minutes.
So in 20 more minutes, the slow-eaters ate 67 fewer calories. What’s more, it also took them longer to feel hungry afterward compared to when they were speeding through their lunch.
These effects, spread across every meal and snack, could add up to hundreds of calories saved over the course of a day.
Granted, this is just a single study, but it demonstrates what we’ve seen with our clients over and over.
(Feel free to try this experiment at home right now, if you like.)
Why does this happen?
Reason 1: Physiology.  It takes about 20 minutes for your body’s satiety signals to kick in. Slow eating gives the system time to work, allowing you to better sense when you’ve had enough.
Reason 2: Psychology. When you slow down, and really try to savor your meal, you tend to feel satisfied with less, and feel less “deprived.”
Rachel Levy: Facing fear and anxiety.
Rachel Levy’s initial reaction to this challenge: “I can’t possibly eat slowly. I will die!”
As you can guess, she didn’t perish after giving it a try. In fact, she went on to be the female winner of our July 2018 transformation contest.
How’d she make it happen?
“I decided to just try. Just put one foot in front of the other, and only do what was being asked of me—eat just a little bit slower.
“I faced the fear of doing something different.”
During her first two weeks of eating slowly, Rachel had one of those “aha moments.”
“I suddenly realized that the reason I ate quickly was actually a feedback loop: I ate quickly to calm my anxiety, but eating quickly was making me anxious.”
The upshot: Discovering this connection immediately made it easy for Rachel to eat slowly.
2. Look and feel better.
Have regular bloating, cramping, or stomach pains? Many of our clients say slow eating helped solve their digestive issues.
Why does speed matter?
Because when you wolf down your food, you take larger bites and chew less.
Your stomach has a harder time mashing those big chunks of food into chyme—the sludgy mix of partially digested food, hydrochloric acid, digestive enzymes, and water that passes from your stomach into your small intestine.
When food isn’t properly broken down into chyme, it can cause indigestion and other GI problems. We may absorb fewer nutrients, depleting ourselves of valuable vitamins and minerals.
Besides making you uncomfortable (maybe even miserable), shoddy digestion can also affect your mindset.
For instance, if your meal leaves you bloated, burpy, and sluggish, you may interpret this as “feeling out of shape,” and become discouraged about your efforts. On the other hand, slowing down and digesting your food properly may help you “feel leaner.”
3. Learn what “hungry” and “full” feel like.
Ever have a meal because it’s a certain time of day, even if you’re not particularly hungry?
Or clean your plate, though you’re pretty sure you’ll regret it?
These are just a couple of ways people tune out their internal hunger and satiety cues. There are plenty more, but the point is:
Many of us eat when we’re not hungry, and keep eating when we’re full.
Slow eating can help get you right again. With regular practice, it improves your appetite awareness. You learn to recognize —and more importantly, trust—your body’s own internal signals.
Over time, this retrains you to eat when you’re hungry and stop when you’re full. Not because some rigid meal plan demands it, but because your body (a.k.a. your new best friend) tells you so.
This is the difference between being “on a diet” and learning how to “listen to your body”… a valuable skill that allows you to make healthier choices for the rest of your life.
Voila—lasting body transformation in a way that doesn’t suck.
Nellie Long: Tackling food addiction.
Nellie was already “healthy” when she started Precision Nutrition Coaching. She went to the gym three to five times a week, ate mostly whole, unprocessed foods, and wasn’t really looking to lose weight.
There was just one problem: She struggled with food addiction. “I needed to face the reason I was eating a pound of carrots in one sitting,” she says.
When first introduced to the habit of eating slowly, Nellie was so worried she couldn’t do it, she considered leaving the program. But instead, she accepted the challenge. And although there were setbacks—like the day she ate seven cupcakes—little by little, it started to get easier.
Now, it’s revolutionized her relationship with food. On a recent backpacking trip, Nellie’s friend brought some Fritos along. At the end of their 13-mile day, Nellie started craving those chips.
“Before, I would have pounded them down. But this time, I put one in my mouth and savored it.” She still ate the chips—slowly—but instead of feeling ashamed and overstuffed, she felt nourished and satisfied.
Big lesson for Nellie:
“I’ve learned that when I listen to my body, it tells me everything I need to be successful.”
4. Disrupt patterns that derail your progress.
If you struggle with binge eating, learning to go slow can help.
That might sound odd, since a binge is driven by an overwhelming urge to consume as much food as possible, as fast as possible. (This quality is what differentiates binge eating from run-of-the-mill overeating.)
But the skills you develop from slow eating can help you mitigate the damage, and build resilience over time.
Here’s how: When you’re in the grip of a binge, slow down as soon as you realize what’s happening.
Pause. Breathe. The food will wait for you. Even just one breath between bites will help.
You might not be able to stop eating right away, and that’s okay. How much you eat isn’t as important as getting back into a more thoughtful state of mind.
With this “binge slowly” technique, most people can regain a sense of control. And the more you practice it, the more effective it will be.
If you keep slowing down, even during your most difficult moments:
You’ll become more aware of why, where, and how you’re binging (so it won’t seem random, and eventually you can break the chain).
You’ll likely eat less and stop sooner.
You’ll feel less panicked and powerless.
You’ll be able to soothe yourself more effectively, and get back into “wise mind” faster.
In time, this’ll help normalize your eating, boost your physical and psychological health, and improve body composition (or help you maintain a healthy body composition more easily, without restriction-compensation cycles).
5. Gain a tool you can use anytime, anywhere.
We don’t always have control over what foods are available to us. But we always have control over how quickly we chew and swallow.
Think of slow eating as the low-hanging fruit of nutrition: super accessible in any situation.
It doesn’t require specialized meal plans or a food scale. No matter what’s going on in your life, or what’s on your plate, you can practice eating slowly.
Elaine Gordon: Finding a better way.
When Precision Nutrition Coaching client Elaine Gordon started the program, she already knew a lot about nutrition from years of working with coaches and researching on her own.
“I knew the ‘whats’ of eating well, but really benefited from the ‘hows’ that PN teaches,” she says.
“It’s incredible to see how your relationship with food changes when you bring attention and awareness to the process of eating.”
Thanks to her new, more mindful relationship with food, Elaine began to get the results she’d been after all those years. And after seeing how effective it was for Elaine, her husband even started eating slowly. Now they practice the habit together.
The best part? Elaine knows she has this tool at her disposal, no matter where she is or what she’s doing.
“Even if all else fails with my diet, I can always choose to eat slowly.”
How to eat slowly.
Eating slowly and mindfully is simple and effective—but not necessarily easy.
Most people have to work at it.
Thankfully, you don’t have to get it “perfect.” Shoot for “a little bit better” instead. You might be surprised at how effective this can be.
Try one of these tips. You can experiment with them for just one meal, or take on a full 30-day slow-eating challenge, if you feel up to it.
Take just one breath.
Before you eat, pause. Take one breath.
Take one bite. Then take another breath.
Take another bite. Then take another breath.
Go one bite, and one breath at a time.
That’s it.
Add just one minute.
At first, most people panic at the idea of “wasting time” on eating or having to be alone with their thoughts and the sounds of crunching for too long. Plus, life is busy and rushed. Having long leisurely meals may feel impossible.
So, start small. Add just one minute per meal. Or two, or three, if you’re feeling sassy about it.
When you start your meal, start the clock (or use an app like 20 Minute Eating to time yourself).
The game: Stretch out that meal as long as you can. Then try to make your next meal last one minute longer.
Over time, you can gradually build up how long you spend at meals.
Don’t be hard on yourself: If you forget to slow down during one meal, no biggie. Just slow down next time, and notice what happens.
And remember, even one minute better—or one breath-between-bites better—can help.
Put down the remote.
For the next level of challenge, don’t eat while you drive, watch TV, or play with your phone. Sit at a table, not on your living room couch, and for heaven’s sake, don’t eat standing over the sink. Try to relax and experience your meal.
The whole point is to pay attention to your food and body. So, over the next 30 days, do your best to eat in a calm environment with minimal distractions.
Eat foods that need to really be chewed.
Try this experiment: Eat a whole food, like an apple slice, and count how many chews it takes to swallow a mouthful. Then grab a highly processed snack, like a cracker or cookie, and count your chews.
What differences do you notice?
Which food do you think will be easier to eat slowly?
Now act accordingly.
Minimally processed lean proteins, fruits and vegetables, whole grains, beans and legumes require more effort—and time—to eat.
The more you have to chew, the longer it’ll take you to eat, giving your fullness signals a chance to catch up.
Do something between bites.
Pacing yourself is easier when you have a specific action in mind to break up mouthfuls of food.
Between bites, try:
setting down your utensils
taking a breath (or three)
taking a sip of water
asking someone at the table a question
Savor your food.
When you eat… eat. Enjoy it. Really taste it.
Is it salty? Sweet? Does it coat the roof of your mouth? What’s the texture like?
Notice these little details with each bite.
To really tap into this experience, try “wine tasting” your food. Practice chewing slowly, sniffing, and savoring your food, as if it were a fine wine.
Notice what affects your eating speed.
As you experiment, try to identify what affects your eating speed or focus.
Consider factors such as:
who you eat with
when you eat
what you eat
where you eat
Once you’ve made some observations, ask yourself:
What could you do to improve on what is already working well?
What could you change, given what isn’t working well?
Refine your practice.
Pay attention to the eating speed of those around you. Observe the slowest-eating person in the group and match their speed.
If you find yourself rushing, that’s okay. Put your utensils down and take a minute to re-focus. If slow eating isn’t habitual for you, this will take some time to master.
Embrace an experimental mindset and notice what you learn.
Remember: every meal is a chance to practice.
Phillip Wilson: Getting leaner and learning to be present.
Like many others, Phillip was skeptical about eating slowly.
“I never expected it to work. It sounded too easy,” he says.
Eating slowly was more challenging than he expected, but with practice, things started to click, and the results have been major.
“The simple act of making time to eat slowly has gotten me closer to my goals than anything I’ve ever tried,” says Phillip.
And the results aren’t just physical: Slowing down his eating helped Phillip set a more comfortable pace in other areas of his life, too.
“Not only am I leaner, but life doesn’t just pass me by anymore. I’m more aware of the moments that are right in front of me.”
I ate slowly, now what?
At the end of your 30-day slow-eating challenge, tune into what’s different.
You’re probably going to observe some changes in your body—such as how your stomach feels after a meal or how your pants fit. You may also notice mental changes, like what you think about while you’re eating, or how you react to feeling hungry or full.
Look at how much has changed in just 30 days, and imagine:
What would happen if you continued working on this habit… forever?
There’s a good reason to do just that: No matter what other habits you adopt or “next level stuff” you try, eating slowly will always enhance your efforts. And how often can you say that about anything?
But don’t just keep it to yourself: Share the 30-day slow-eating challenge with your friends, family, and co-workers. It could be exactly what they need, but never even knew to try.
Want help becoming the healthiest, fittest, strongest version of you?
Most people know that regular movement, eating well, sleep, and stress management are important for looking and feeling better. Yet they need help applying that knowledge in the context of their busy, sometimes stressful lives.
Over the past 15 years, we’ve used the Precision Nutrition Coaching method to help over 100,000 clients lose fat, get stronger, and improve their health… for the long-term… no matter what challenges they’re dealing with.
It’s also why we work with health, fitness, and wellness professionals (through our Level 1 and Level 2 Certification programs) to teach them how to coach their own clients through the same challenges.
Interested in Precision Nutrition Coaching? Join the presale list; you’ll save up to 54% and secure a spot 24 hours early.
We’ll be opening up spots in our next Precision Nutrition Coaching on Wednesday, July 17th, 2019.
If you’re interested in coaching and want to find out more, I’d encourage you to join our presale list below. Being on the list gives you two special advantages.
You’ll pay less than everyone else. At Precision Nutrition we like to reward the most interested and motivated people because they always make the best clients. Join the presale list and you’ll save up to 54% off the general public price, which is the lowest price we’ve ever offered.
You’re more likely to get a spot. To give clients the personal care and attention they deserve, we only open up the program twice a year. Last time we opened registration, we sold out within minutes. By joining the presale list you’ll get the opportunity to register 24 hours before everyone else, increasing your chances of getting in.
If you’re ready to change your body, and your life, with help from the world’s best coaches, this is your chance.
[Note: If your health and fitness are already sorted out, but you’re interested in helping others, check out our Precision Nutrition Level 1 Certification program].
The post The 30-day eating challenge that can blow your mind—and transform your body. appeared first on Precision Nutrition.
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