#at what point is the background mental pain enough to justify giving up and resting?

[bloodystray]

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[poisonheadcrabsalesman]

More therapy thoughts part 1/?

Behavior Theory Frameworks/Conditioning and What the fuck does Master Chief talk about in therapy?

Ramblings below - like a lot, like I spent too much time writing this and you should not read this

Behavioral Theory could work well as a framework with rehabilitating Spartan IIs if the case worker focused on Operant Conditioning Theory and Cognitive Social Learning Theory, which I talked about in this ask because I think I’m funny and this blog is an archive of me applying human behavior theories to video games.

Spartans have always been taught the mission comes first! Always! The 2s are indoctrinated from age 6-14 and then have that reinforced the rest of their lives. From the beginning they are taught to push themselves to the limits, earn their food by winning, form bonds with teammates but be ready to sacrifice them for the mission. The whole lives wasted vs spent conversation between John and Mendez after the augmentation surgery!

What the UNSC/ONI wants comes before their lives, the lives of other soldiers, civilians, AI etc. This constant conditioning of expectations and rewards has created the norms cemented in their minds. This becomes standard operating procedure.

Spartans are also an entirely separated social group, other people have made really great posts on how they are Othered and have their own way of communicating with body language. ODSTs hate Spartans, marines see them as cyborgs or saviors, and while they’re allies, Spartans are not seen or treated as human, by literally everyone. They are a means to an end, with the original goal being to maintain the UNSC’s position of power and crush the insurrectionists in the outer colonies, but uh oh Aliens!

Maybe the 2s aren’t as expendable as the 3s but the mindset and reinforcement of “mission first, people second” being repeated their entire lives is going to stick. So is the constant mistreatment and abuse from their fellow soldiers and handlers. 

Addressing the cognitive distortions that come from their upbringing while also balancing the fact that Spartans are so fundamentally different from the way they developed to survive would be so much work, especially considering how much information on them is given to their therapist.  The main distortion I would apply is minimization, making large problems small and not properly dealing with them, and specifically for John, personification, accepting blame for negative events without sufficient evidence. 

Like these are grown ass super soldiers who can kill you in less than a second and calculate the amount of gravity in a room on the fly but then also can flounder when trying to comfort civilians or make small talk because their experiences and values are so alien to adults who had more developmentally “normal” lives. 

Literally applying therapy to Spartans would be like, what was done to you was wrong, the ends do not justify the means, you were children and the adults in your life failed to protect you. You are a human person who is fallible and did the best you could with what you had. And the Spartan would say, “sounds fake but okay, can I pass my psych eval and go back to war now please?”

Jumping back to Behavior Theory

Different approaches to therapy under the Behavior Theory umbrella help modify negative behaviors with treatments like Cognitive Behavioral Therapy and Dialectical behavior therapy that teach individuals adaptive coping like emotional regulation, distress tolerance, cognitive distortions, and interpersonal communication. And that’s just one framework under the umbrella of human behavior theories.

Social work therapy is different from psych as it approaches individuals with heavily researched, evidence-based theories and frameworks in a holistic viewing of person-in-environment, instead of a strong focus on internal psychology. 

Social work looks at all the interacting systems, environment, history, and internal and external factors affecting an individual. One of the most useful frameworks is the Biopsychosocial-Spiritual Frameworks (BPSS) when helping a client. It helps with identifying all the intersecting factors, both risk and protective, that shapes a client’s lived experiences. The most important thing to remember is that the individual is an expert in their own life, they know their experiences best.

The hardest part is applying this to Spartans because they Are So Fucked, their lived experiences, their environments and systems and institutions interacting with them, and the amount of their personal information that is probably so classified.

BPSS is a tool to help social workers assess individuals and their situations by collecting info that is related to the presenting issues and current and past circumstances. Info like medical history, hospitalizations, substance abuse, mental illness, personal relationships, family history and background, culture and norms, education, legal history, spirituality and participation etc. is all under this framework. 

For Spartan 2s most of this info is lost or classified and helping someone who has repressed every negative emotion they've had for the sake of the mission would be so much to unpack but that’s also why you’re reading the mad ramblings over an over caffeinated nerd on the internet.

Life Course Theory which looks at developmental milestones and the individual’s experiences versus the socially expected markers, how do you apply that to children who were taken and have lived such different lives? 

While early adolescence is when “normal” development of thoughts of self and identity take place alongside the physical changes of puberty, Spartans were being turned into emotionless calculating weapons. Sorry John, no forming a sense of identity and peer bonds for you, go kill that Watts guy who betrayed us and joined the insurrectionists. 

And now that I’ve gone this insane and opened 2 whole textbooks up, let’s get to Master Chief thoughts. If you’ve read this far thank you, I swear I’m normal, 2020 has just been a weird year. 

Why the fuck did I think I could write a therapy fic on a guy with 20 minutes of actual dialogue across almost 2 decades of games?

I make fun of him and call him a himbo, but he’s smart, he knows he’s being used and there is resentment there that’s been building for years. 

There’s also decades of trauma and combat experience, physical, and emotional abuse, the lack of a support network,  lack of an identity, the biological factors and aftermath of the augmentations and injuries he’s received, a whole lot of grief and self-inflicted guilt. 

The loss of a third of his peer group with the augmentation surgery, Sam’s death, the loss of Reach (the only place he’s considered home), Keyes, the Pillar of Autumn crew, Miranda Keyes, Johnson, Cortana. He cares about the marines who fight with him!!!

He just stands there and takes it and rarely snaps, and even then it’s just small cracks on the surface with fissures running deep. The few details I will pull from Halo 5 are Blue Team’s reactions to John pushing himself so hard from the beginning of the game, and the literal crack in his armor from the fight with Locke. Like dude. ��

John’s a leader and will get the mission done but he tugs on the leash. He’s earned enough of a reputation and uses it to get his way.

Halo 2’s “Permission to leave the station” with Mr. “I’m going to hand deliver a bomb to the fusion reactor of a covenant supercarrier and hope my friends catch me”. 

Halo 4 is when we see him say no to a superior officer and then 5 is him going AWOL. Palmer literally points out that no one is going to stop him.

Halo 5 kills me for many reasons but John bringing up Halsey and what she did to him and also pointing out that he knows Halo 5 Cortana is trying to manipulate him with psychological tactics hurts. 

He knows what’s been done to him!

I cannot remember which book it was but John isn’t used to working alone. He literally takes fire because he was expecting someone to have his back! 

He’s lost without Cortana! She was in his brain! Y’all! I played Halo Combat Evolved on the original xbox when I was like 8 and I knew these two were meant to be together. From the moment they met they had great chemistry and relied on each other! Cortana literally goes after people who have it out for John! John wants her approval and shows off for her in one of the books. 

I’ve already written too much here but like all of the games have John showing off for Cortana, making dry jokes, jumping out of things he shouldn’t. 

The whole point of this rambling is to try and get my thoughts about how to approach John’s character under control.

And that’s the thing. He’s lost control. He’s lost people, he’s losing his position and being phased out as an aging spartan, a relic. John’s used to following orders and making some decisions on the battlefield but it was always short term.

He has no identity beyond being a weapon. Complete the mission, clear the LZ, get put in cryo. Rinse, repeat. 

The timeline of the games are what I'm most familiar with but with the comics and books too it’s one long run from Halo 2 to Halo 4. Cairo station to the Dreadnought to the crash landing to Forward Unto Dawn to Requiem to “The Didact is Dead but not really but we’ll deal with him off-screen”.

I know Hood apparently gave John R&R orders before Halo 5 that he ignored and kept running himself into the ground. This is a man who has to keep moving and keep being useful. 

I imagine him giving in and seeking help as a last resort to fix any problems he has with performing his duties rather than helping himself be healthier. 

Any professional he sees is going to have to approach him like they’re approaching a self sacrificing feral cat, with lunch meat and quiet. This man needs to have his support network closer, set up long term goals, and do some serious, and most likely incredibly painful, self reflection on where he’s come from and where he wants to go. Get him out of that tin can and into therapy. I don’t have a nice neat ending because this was a ramble and also therapy is not neat and tidy. Thanks for reading my words about mr halo

[kihyunswrath]

An essay on why I fight for Wonho

I think there has been too much of this “why do you even care that much?” bullshit lately and I’d like to make things clear, at least for my part. And I am assuming many other Monbebes can relate.

Indeed, why do I care? Wonho was never my bias, I have always liked other groups too, I have seen hundreds of groups come and go, it’s just one member in that group and although I want him to return, I actually want this entire industry to burn down to ashes even more and yes, that would mean death sentence to all idol groups. 

But first of all, let me ask this question in return: Why does it bother you that we care? Who gets to define what’s a useless endeavor? What makes you think I can’t simultaneously care for “more important” issues? Why the hell are you judging us for wasting time on this, when we all already know you wasted days watching that useless Youtube vine compilation, binge-watched that one Netflix series you didn’t seriously even care about, played that one stupid mobile phone game when you should have been sleeping, ate those two boxes of cookies that could’ve lasted you two whole weeks? Who are you to say things are useless just because it’s not your favorite idol group or whoever the fuck you care about, who’s under attack? Why do you think we have explaining to do, when literally none of this has anything to do with you personally and it’s literally you who fail to see the implications this incident had?

I don’t need to explain why I found a person inspiring as an idol and human being, why I found his background story motivating and moving and why I found his presence in Monsta X very important for the entire group’s mental health, group dynamics, success and happiness. I don’t need to explain why I find it upsetting that the people I cared about are torn apart because of no fucking reason, and that I can see that pain from their faces as they’re forced to pretend Wonho does no longer fucking exist?

I don’t fucking think I need to explain why I have empathy for a person who is under a police investigation just because. I don’t think I need to explain why I don’t find it fair that someone is under an attack for doing something that is not deemed as illegal in the most civilized, democratic countries. I don’t need to explain why I want to defend someone who’s kicked out of his group because of conservative internet trolls and a couple whose own background is about ten times more shady than Wonho’s. I don’t think I need to justify myself protesting for him, when he is fired from a job that has absolutely nothing to do with the things he’s being accused of. I don’t think I need to explain that unlike many others, I am indeed capable of reflecting this incident against the bigger context and see how flawed the entire Korean legislative system is. 

But let me do your homework for you asshats and explain what this bigger context is. It’s the context where simply having an allegation of whatever kind placed against you is enough to ruin your entire career. The context where people are literally lying about a person’s background and have been caught doing that, but can still continue with the investigation. The context where people can be punished again and again for things they did ages ago, apologized for, moved on and learned from. The context where literal rich drug dealers, convicted criminals sitting in prison, their minions and ENTIRE companies (cough pdx101 cough) might be able to escape from justice, but this one unfortunate person whose existence is only justified by the Korean population if he is superhumanly perfect and flawless, is brought down for allegedly committing a crime that was not harming anybody and was committed six fucking years ago. The context where you can be punished for something so meaningless that it feels like there is indeed space for a conspiracy theory or two. The context that paints idols as literal gods and goddesses who are not allowed to have pasts, backgrounds, redemption arcs or flaws to their character. The context that is taking idols from their hard-earned positions just because someone influential enough had a personal grudge against them. This context where Koreans are not protected by their own companies or labor unions but can be treated like non-human playthings, chess pieces and pawns just for having human traits.  

I don’t think I need to explain why I have empathy. I don’t think I need to explain why this bigger picture I see doesn’t only clash with my morals, but also potentially hurts hundreds of thousands of other people, because something like this could easily happen to them, too, especially if we now use this incident as an example of how things should be handled in similar situations. And if you as a person fail to connect the dots, if you personally fail to see why this is giving an ugly view into a ruthless society many of my friends and loved ones have no other options but to live in, I think that’s on you. That’s literally your personal problem, not mine.

Wonho was not inspiring because he was flawless, he was inspiring because he demonstrated character growth. He was not inspiring because he never did any mistakes, he was inspiring because he kept improving and kept sharing his love and gratitude toward his fans. He was not inspiring because he had wealth, connections and endless virtuosity, he was inspiring because he built his career from nothing and still remembered to explicitly thank his family, his friends, his loved ones and his fans every single day. That alone is something we can’t say from many other people.  

And if you think my argument is flawed because I was biased? Yes. I am biased. It’s not suspicious that people care about stuff more when it turns out to be personally relatable. Stop fucking pretending you are so virtuous, wise and pure that you already fought against bigotry, oppression, discrimination and bullshit in its all forms, way before you were even fucking born. That does not give you more social justice woke points, it just makes you annoying. Just because some Monbebes woke up to notice how flawed, ugly, embarrassing and pathetic the kpop industry can be now that their own favorite idol is attacked, is not a bad thing if it leads to them protesting against similar incidents in the future. Just because people cannot fully grasp issues before it has something to do with themselves doesn’t mean they can’t now use that realization as a boost to change the entire society. 

Yes, we intend to not bring only Wonho back, but also bring down the entire industry that made it possible for things like these to happen. Yes, we as human beings are capable of empathizing with people who we don’t have much to do with, but it’s not wrong if we fight even more fiercely when we try to protect our own. When was the last time you have done something similar? 

If our movement brings light to the fact how little protections workers have in Korea, if our movement makes people see how devastating consequences bullying and baseless accusations can have on people, if our movement continues talking about the same problem that caused a person to commit literal suicide a month earlier? If our movement makes it transparent to everybody how much power all these companies have over their idols and how they can not only treat them like shit after trusting and rooting for them for several years, but also silence all the remaining members and force them to continue even if they’re at a breaking point? If our movement brings light to the fact that maybe, just maybe it’s not fair to punish people for things that they might not only NOT have done, but also are literally meaningless even if he did them ALL, especially because they happened before he ever even was an idol? 

Well, I’ll call it a movement that exists for a good fucking reason.

One of my Korean friends, after being told about this, said that well, the only thing I now need to do is to change my favorite group and move on with my life, because I am literally just a customer and I can’t change things. And you know what? That is exactly the problem here. Without knowing it, she summarized the entire problem up perfectly with that one sentence. 

She and so many other Koreans (and non-Koreans) consider idols mere products. They think idols are here to sell us a certain image of a perfect, successful person who does not really exist as a human being. Idols just represent something the Korean society aspires to be, but if enough people get fed up with them for whatever reason, just to bolster their own feelings of revenge and jealousy like in this case, idols can be dumped and forgotten in a matter of minutes. That hurting one idol does not really matter, because there are people lining up behind him to do his job even better. That being an idol is an endless cycle of improving oneself, requiring less and less time for resting, recovery, privacy and human rights and asking less and less forgiveness from the audience. That if you get an important position in the society, it’s on you if you cannot handle the negative publicity that might follow. That if you have done one mistake once, it prevents you from ever moving on in your life, because it can come and bite you in the ass whenever, arbitrarily, just because, even if technically you had already been forgiven long time ago. That people who have gotten money and fame do not earn those positions because of hard work, but because they are supposed to be superhuman. And because there is no such thing as a superhuman, every and any idol can be brought down whenever they show the smallest sign of humanity. Even if that sign of humanity is just them showing open solidarity and empathy for a friend and colleague that was wrenched from them for no reason.

She and so many other Koreans think the only thing they can do as normal citizens is to pretend this one “flawed, miserable” individual never existed, because they are powerless against the decisions of the companies, press and rich conservative trolls?

And for some reason, somehow, these same Koreans fail to see how that reflects the state of their entire society and how it affects their own rights as workers, as human beings. They fail to see this very, very crucial factor: that idols are more similar to everyday Koreans than they are to the entertainment companies, wealthy chaebol CEOs and a couple of filthy rich drug dealers who escape their own punishment because of their even richer dad.

Idols are NOT extremely wealthy celebrities who have a freedom to choose their own paths, influential politicians who can escape from scandals after scandals or sons and daughters of the company leaders and estate owners of Korea. 

They are workers who have inhumane working conditions. They are faces to faceless, cruel companies who are intentionally hiding behind them to cover their own tracks. 

Idols have no real rights, freedom or future, and thus, they represent us normal people. What you do to one of these idols, you essentially do to every single one of his/her fans. You take our dreams away, you punish us unfairly for things we tried to learn from, you take away our voices that we used to express our own oppression and challenge the status quo.

Idols are not us, but they represent us more than any of these companies, leaders, rich heirs and heiresses and CEO’s could ever do. 

And that’s why I’m fighting for Wonho.

__

And please miss me with that cultural relativism bullshit. I know injustice when I see it. I can distinguish suffering and pain even in cultural contexts I am not born into. Also? Maybe if Koreans don’t want us to meddle with how they handle their own problems, maybe they should have really been thinking twice before trying to buy the entire world with the help of their idol industry. We can hold companies accountable. We can demand change. Companies and wealthy shitheads are not representatives of a culture. We know there are Koreans with us in this fight. 

And if this doesn’t change with us, right now, today... it will sit down with us until something like this happens again, and then the change will come in the shape of a fucking tsunami. 

And what are you going to do at that point, stand in the fucking way, or pretend your past mistakes can no longer hold you accountable?  

[nolongerapileofashprobably]

Whenever my sister plays BoTW, she utterly confounds me.

She never did the Memory Quest. She never got to know the Champion’s or Zelda. After she played it the first time through, she thought Zelda was still DEAD.

And I... just don’t understand that.

How can someone not want to watch the memories? Especially in BoTW where the majority of the story takes place in THE PAST.

How can someone not watch that first memory, with Zelda doing a ceremony for Link with so much annoyance in her voice? Or how the Champion’s all saw this contempt, the only one understanding it being Urbosa.

But it leaves the player with so many questions. Why does Zelda dislike Link so much? They’ve just recently been bound together in their fate. What could have happened for her to be so cold? Why does Revali feel the same way? Why does Urbosa see right through Zelda?

And the second memory, as the pair makes their way to Goron City. The distance, the pure annoyance and distain in Zelda’s speech. The two are far from friends. More like forced acquaintances. You can smell the trope at this point. But, it has yet to really get you. They have no bond yet. It isn’t deep enough.

The third, oh this one is a doozy. First, Zelda explaining something very vital to the game. Then, Link riding up which means Zelda literally escaped from the castle and fled to this shrine so far away. Why? There’s a shine right outside Hyrule Castle. One inside as well. Why would she want to be away from the castle? And away from Link’s protection? And Zelda freaks out. She establishes their relationship as everything but a relationship. They have had to form a reluctant bond with each other to fulfill this prophecy. Link is intent on keeping up his role. Zelda is refusing to cooperate with him. It builds angst. It gives Zelda some background, as we learn her contempt is not only at Link, but also at her father.

The fourth one. The one that literally changes everything. It’s one that sets up the rest of their relationship. It mirrors their fate. Zelda is being CHASED so there’s the action appeal. And then Link, the ever loyal knight, manages to step in last second and save the Princess. Cue the slow music and Zelda’s stare that shows emotions from disbelief to adoration. It’s a mix of everything but it gives them a turning point. How can someone not want to see if they use it to move forward or use it to again block their development as Princess and her knight?

The fifth bad boy. Oh man. The sudden shift is BLANTANTLY OBVIOUS. Zelda is seen actually interacting with Link, scolding him for being reckless, and assessing his wounds. She’s begun to care about Link. Not caring about how his role hinders hers in some way. No, instead caring about Link and his own safety. She shares her concerns, letting us see a little more of Zelda. She is quite aware of the threat and can sense the omens that keep popping up. She’s set herself to stopping him. And she used plural terms. She’s accepted Link. The distance between them has lessened greatly. How am I not supposed to go hungrily searching for the next location to see them interact with each other?

Boy does the sixth bring some smiles. This entire memory establishes Link and Zelda as friends. They’ve become much closer, now just hanging outside the castle in a field. Zelda should probably be training. Instead, she establishes the importance of the Silent Princess. The symbolism is huge. It also gives us an insight on how close they actually are. I don’t know about anyone else, but I would have to be pretty comfortable with someone to try and force feed them a frog. How were my shipper senses not suppose to kick in and go into hyperdrive?

The seventh one is another one of my favorites. It gives a domestic vibe as the pair are forced to delay their travel to wait the rain out. Zelda is sitting down, just watching Link and the nature around her, rambling about her thoughts. Link is training, not unaware of her stare, but comfortable enough to not be hindered by it. Zelda reveals a piece of herself by relating it to the limited knowledge she has of Link. We see some true development and get to really see Zelda as who she is. The princess with a bad temper is really just a girl forced into a destiny that she can’t seem to fulfill and this cannot he truly dedicated it as her interests lie elsewhere. Character development? Checkkkkk

This one. This eighth memory that really clues in two things for the player. Zelda and her father have a very strained relationship due to the responsibilities that weight down both their shoulders. The way the scene is set up allows the player to see that Link is the reason she gathers the courage to stand up for herself. Ultimately she concedes, taking in the failure she must be in her fathers eyes. And, Link’s presence is only explained by the simple fact that he was there for Zelda. Not as her knight, though that has become a natural state for him, but as her friend. He is there to keep her company as she researches and to listen to her thoughts. They have gone from unwilling companions to wanting to be near each other even if there is no need for it. Am I suppose to stop now?

The ninth scene. Oh this one really tugs at my heart. We see the true frustration and toll Zelda has been enduring. Though it doesn’t justify it, this scene really makes the player understand her cold attitude towards Link in the beginning. But this scene gives us so much more about them. Though subtle, Link obviously reacts to Zelda’s pleas and later her cries. He turns his head, more interested in hearing her words, than watch the Spring for any enemies. And then, he turns around as she blames herself for something being wrong with her. This just gives us a glimpse into Link’s own feelings and that he won’t stand for anyone doubting Zelda, even if it is herself. He’s no longer just her knight, but someone who cares deeply about her and can’t stand when anyone degraded her. How was I not suppose to notice that?

Tenth scene and they’re riding almost side by side. They have come so far from the distance in the second memory. This memory confirms Link can speak, but it also confirms that he’s a softie when it comes to horses. PLUS this memory gives us Zelda’s little speech about her last Hope on Mt. Lanayru. Zelda has reached her end point and tomorrow Link will be the only one truly supporting her as he makes his way with her to the Spring.

Ooohhhhh and this one. The one where the entire threat of Ganon arrives in the eleventh scene. Zelda and Link walk back, everything clear on their faces. Link, is utterly focused on Zelda. He knows her personal disappointment in herself and how she’s surely beating her self up mentally at that moment. No one else there really matters. Just Zelda. Even when Mipha is talking, giving advice, Link’s gaze never wanders from Zelda. Then, Ganon appears. Link doesn’t let Zelda even STUMBLE because his hands are already there supporting her. She is his entire focus and this memory really highlights his shift from just a knight, to someone who cares so deeply about someone who is experiencing so much pain. This memory gives us another look at the Champion’s too.

And this last one. The twelfth memory. This entire memory sealed the deal when it came down to these two. Running away together from death machines? Check. One slipping and falling and the other having to stop and go back? Check. The one having a breakdown. Check. The other comforting them. Check. Zelda breaking down, Link letting her get it all out... It truly shows the depth of their relationship. It has surpassed being mere friends at this point. Zelda is completely distraught. Link is endangering them both by sheathing his sword. But he needs to let Zelda her her feelings out. He needs to be there for her. So he fails his duty and comforts her. Even he is surprised as she embraces him, but it quickly settles into one of compassion and endearment. They’ve truly accepted the other. They are not the princess who holds the power to seal Ganon or the knight who wields the sword that seals the darkness. They are Link and Zelda. After than emotional toll? How can I NOT go get the last one.

And this one..The thirteenth memory. Boy is this one’s heart wrenching. Link is gravely injured, Zelda begging him to run. But Link doesn’t because it is his duty and he would never leave Zelda is there was danger around. Not a chance. And she unlocks her power, as she is forced to protect the one she loves, the one who understands her in a way no one else can. The boy who showed her more to life than Sheikah Tech and sealing powers. And Link, he’s completely aware that he’s going to die. He’s even giving her a “we both know that’s not true” when Zelda swears that he’ll be fine. And he isn’t. It’s heartbreaking, watching her spb over the boy who made her feel more than the princess everyone looks at her to be. A soft lullaby, casually breaking my heart in the background. Then, the moment where it all goes down. Zelda can save Link. Her fingers curl against his chest as she realizes he can still be saved. She can’t cry. She has to be determined. And she is.

How was I not supposed to fall into this story head first? Not fall in love with Link and Zelda’s relationship. The entire plot and trope it follows. It’s angsty, it’s soft, and it is HEARTBREAKING.

How wasn’t I suppose to fall into an obsession and write posts like this at 2 in the morning when I should be sleeping?

[quicksilversquared]

Lost Heart: Chapter 21

Two Faces, Two Lives

Magic can be a dangerous thing to play around with, particularly when that magic is tangled up in a curse. When Nathalie Sancoeur experiments with magic that she doesn’t fully understand, it sends her on a path to become Paris’ most dangerous supervillain and tips the balance between superheroes and supervillain.

But which way will the balance fall?

links in the reblog

Adrien's first day of their winter holiday started with a bit of a lay-in. He deserved it, after the past two and a half weeks of utter chaos. He slept until ten-thirty, when he was rudely woken up by a cascade of socks falling on his face.

"Was that necessary, Plagg?" Adrien demanded, shoving the socks aside with a grimace. They definitely hadn't all been cleaned. In fact, a couple smelled like they had maybe been grabbed from his fencing bag. He really needed to get that cleaned out and put things through the wash. "I was sleeping!"

"No, you were laying on your bed with your eyes closed, ignoring the world. There's a difference." Plagg zipped around his head. "And obviously it was necessary. I thought you were going out with Marinette today for lunch. Even if she's only your fake girlfriend, don't you still need time to get ready?"

Adrien's yelp as he flung himself out of bed was all the answer Plagg needed. The mischievous kwami sniggered and went back to sampling his cheese stash as his Chosen made a mad dash for the bathroom.

"I should have set an alarm," Adrien groaned as he caught sight of the clock on his counter. Ten-thirty! That was so late! He was meant to be meeting Marinette at eleven-thirty so that they could go out for pizza together. It was a casual "date", set up partly to get their friends off of their backs about asking when their next date was, and partly because both Adrien's parents and Marinette's had been wondering the same thing, but Adrien didn't want to be late. It would give a bad impression, and he really didn't want to do that if he wanted there to be a possibility of real dates in the future.

That was one more thing to add to his winter break checklist, actually. Once the Purple Lady was taken care of, he needed to talk to Marinette and see if she was interested in actually dating. She might not want to, or not want to right away, of course- the press would no doubt make themselves an utter pain after his father's arrest, and he had to be upfront with her about his crush on Ladybug, too- but eventually. If she wasn't interested, well...

Then they would have to discuss how they might "break up" without having to deal with well-meaning but misdirected friends and family members trying to keep them together. The best approach would no doubt be to take advantage of the upheaval that they would all assume that he would be going through to take a "temporary break" and then not get back together. He would rather not have to use that excuse, of course, but it didn't hurt to be prepared.

Adrien was in and out of the shower in under ten minutes (thank you, plenty of practice with needing to rush thanks to akumas messing up his schedule), and then it was a scramble to dry his hair, comb and style it, figure out what he was going to wear and get dressed, eat a very light breakfast (it wouldn't do to not have room for pizza, after all), and then fly out of the house with both his kwami and his wallet. Thankfully Marinette's house wasn't far, and he got there with a couple minutes to spare.

"We just got her up a little while ago," Mrs. Cheng told him as he came in. "She must have been staying up late studying for the past few days. So she might be running a little behind."

"I got up late, too," Adrien assured her cheerfully. "And I could have kept sleeping, too. It's completely understandable."

"Understandable, but she should have set an alarm. We wouldn't want you arriving to find Marinette still fast asleep in bed." Mrs. Cheng waved him past the counter, passing him a croissant as he passed. "Go on up. Just have her text me when you two leave, so you don't have to go out via the bakery."

"Of course, Mrs. Cheng!"

Adrien trotted upstairs, munching on the croissant as he went. Marinette wasn't in the kitchen yet when he got there, but her trapdoor was open. Adrien headed up, giving the ceiling a knock before sticking his head in.

He was greeted by a somewhat frazzled fake-girlfriend. Marinette was frantically combing her hair, dressed in a cute winter jumpsuit. She waved before going back to trying to get a tangle out of her still-wild hair. Adrien grinned- a year ago, she would have probably panicked (delightfully) at him seeing her in such a disheveled state, but now she was calm.

Well. Mostly.

"I overslept!" Marinette told him, finishing up with her combing in a few more quick strokes and pulling her hair into her usual pigtails with a grimace. "I'm so sorry, I maybe should have gone to bed earlier but I had some stuff to get done and then suddenly it was late and then I didn't set an alarm and apparently I was really tired."

"Perhaps we should have a date that consists of the two of us snoozing on your couch," Adrien suggested with a laugh. That sounded really good now, but his stomach was all set for pizza so they couldn't change plans now. "With fuzzy blankets and lots of pillows."

Marinette let out a happy sigh. "Oh, that sounds amazing. Like a proper holiday break date. Nothing fancy, just recovering. And there would be snacks and maybe some movies playing in the background..."

Adrien nodded. He needed that. They would have to do that once he no longer had to worry about akumas and could spend the whole day utterly disconnected from the rest of the world. Maybe it wouldn't be an entire day- he knew that his mom was itching to get out and walk around, and he would definitely want to accompany her- but a good chunk of one, at least.

Marinette excused herself to the bathroom, and Adrien headed back downstairs to wait for her in the kitchen. Once she was fully ready to go out ("And I'm not even that late, either! See, it's still not noon yet!"), she snagged an orange from the fruit basket on the counter before joining Adrien at the door.

"I can't start my day with pizza," she told him as they headed down the stairs, peeling her orange as she walked. "But if I have this on the way there, then it'll be fine."

"Yeah, I had a really light breakfast, too," Adrien agreed. "I knew we would be going out right after, but pizza for breakfast? No thanks."

It came as no large surprise when he spotted Alya following them two blocks after they left Marinette's home. Apparently Marinette's friends were hugely invested in their relationship, which... well, it was a little intimidating, to tell the truth. He didn't like being watched, and it put on additional pressure for the two of them to actually work out.

At least he could point right to that when people asked why he and Marinette hadn't shared the news at first. If they were just going to get watched all the time, they were perfectly justified in trying to avoid that.

"They're going to follow us in," Marinette murmured in Adrien's ear, giving a small jerk of her head in Alya's direction. Presumably there were several of the other girls with them. "I would say that we probably shouldn't have told them at all, but that would kind of..."

It would kind of defeat the point of going on the date at all, Adrien finished mentally when Marinette trailed off. Of course, they could have not told anyone beforehand and then just posted pictures afterwards. Maybe they could do that next time.

Assuming, of course, that there would be a next time before the final confrontation and the entire city finding out who was behind Hawkmoth and the Purple Lady's masks. Adrien frowned at the thought, then forcibly shoved it out of his mind.

Right now, he was on a (fake) date with an incredible girl, and fake or no, he was determined to enjoy it. He would not distract himself with worries about what would happen in the future after his father was arrested or concerns about anything in his secret second life. Worrying would make it harder for him to keep up the facade of his normal, everyday life.

"Ignore them," Adrien suggested. "With any luck, they won't be seated close to us. We can just hang out like last time and enjoy ourselves, and then they can read too far into any and all interaction that they see."

"Sounds like a plan!"

Thankfully, the pizza place hadn't filled up completely yet when they arrived. The two of them were seated at a small, square table, clearly designed so that they could sit across from each other. Adrien considered it for a moment, then pulled his chair around to the side so that he and Marinette were sitting on adjacent sides, close enough to be able to hear each other better over the chatter filling the room. The tables weren't too crowded together, so he wasn't getting in anyone's way with the move.

"Can we do lighter toppings?" Marinette asked, already perusing the menu. "Like, veggies instead of meat? I feel like it might be better since neither of us have really eaten breakfast yet."

"I like the way you think." Adrien held out a fist for Marinette to bump. "Red onion and, uh, maybe spinach? Feta?"

Marinette reached over the table, grasping Adrien's hands and staring at him with a serious look on her face. He was really concerned for a moment- had he said something wrong? Was she allergic to red onions or something? He didn't know, they hadn't ever discussed that but they had been friends for a while so he should know, maybe- before she finally spoke.

"We are being pizza buddies forever. That is my absolute favorite."

Adrien laughed, the tension leaving his shoulders. "Oh my gosh, Marinette. You worried me for a second there. I thought that I had insulted you somehow or something."

Marinette was giggling. "No, not at all! It's just that whenever I get pizza with Alya, she always wants to put sardines or something and we end up either having to have the pizza split with half her toppings and half mine or just going for something really plain. And the other girls are the same- we can never decide on what toppings to choose."

"Well, there are a lot of options." Adrien glanced down at the menu. "I would add garlic, too, but considering that we both just got up..."

Marinette's grin had turned sheepish. "Oh. And I was about to ask if you maybe wanted to get some garlic bread to go with our pizza."

Adrien laughed. "I was going to go for a salad to go with it, actually, but if you want garlic bread, go for it."

"Oh, a salad does sound like a better idea," Marinette admitted, glancing through the menu again. "Garlic bread is a bit heavy for what's essentially brunch. And. Uh. It probably wouldn't make our breaths smell particularly good, either."

It only took Adrien a moment to figure out what Marinette was thinking about, and when he did, he grinned, leaning forward to press a kiss to the tip of her nose. "Aw, Marinette! You mean you wouldn't want to kiss me if my breath smelled like garlic? I'm hurt!"

Marinette laughed, leaning forward to return the gesture. Adrien went cross-eyes for a moment as he watched her. "I suppose if both of us had garlic breath, neither of us would notice the smell, would we?"

"Mmm. Probably not." Adrien nearly asked if she wanted to test that theory before deciding against it. It really was too early for garlic bread. "Oh, here comes our waiter. Have you decided what you want?"

"Yeah, I think so."

It didn't take long to order, and then Adrien glanced around the room as their waiter left, wondering where their shadow had gone. It didn't take him long to spot them- Alya, Rose, and Mylène, all jammed around a small table. There was no sign of Nino, which was- well, at least his best friend wasn't as overly interested in his relationship as Marinette's friends were. That was a relief.

It was also a sign that Nino might have actually listened when he and Marinette had talked about being concerned about going public with their relationship, so Adrien pulled his phone out and shot off a quick text to Nino, complaining about the stalking and how he and Marinette had been worried about the additional pressure and what was this if not additional pressure?

Maybe Nino would text his girlfriend and get her to at least think about backing off.

"Are you sure you wouldn't rather spend the time with- uh, with you-know-who?" Marinette asked, pulling Adrien's attention back to her and amending her question halfway through with a cautious glance around. "I mean, we've been so busy the last couple of days that I feel like you haven't gotten a lot of time to see her."

Adrien smiled. It was so kind of Marinette to think of that, but he would have so much time with his mom once this was over. Besides, he was going over to the Grand Paris after the date, probably right away, and he would be there for dinner. But instead of saying all that, he decided to tease Marinette a little bit.

Just like any good boyfriend would. Obviously.

"I think I'd rather spend the time with my lovely girlfriend rather than Voldemort," Adrien said, hiding a grin when Marinette immediately groaned. "I've heard rumors that he's not terribly friendly. Or nice. Or, y'know, alive."

"I was trying to be careful, you absolute nerd!" Marinette complained. "And you know it."

"Okay, but can you blame me? I couldn't let that opportunity go to waste." Adrien grinned at her, reaching over to squeeze her hand. "You're sweet to wonder, but I'll see her plenty over break. Later today, for one, and then probably at least once a day after that. I'm sure she'll want to see you again, too."

Marinette looked happy. "She liked me, then?"

"It would be impossible not to, honestly." Adrien grinned over at her. "And she's really friendly, honestly. She doesn't just up and decide to dislike people like Father does. I'll definitely be spending Christmas with her."

One thing that was odd, Adrien noted as Marinette nodded in understanding, was the way that Marinette never pressed about anything involving his mother. He would have thought that a natural follow-up question would be if his father was going to be joining Adrien and his mom at the Grand Paris for Christmas, but Marinette hadn't asked. Not that he wanted her to, of course. How was he meant to explain that no, his father couldn't leave the house and see his mom because Nathalie might catch on and that would be the worst thing that could possibly happen? He couldn't. He would have to either lie and say that yes, his father was definitely coming over, or come up with some other answer.

Maybe she just suspected that there was more going on than he was letting on. It probably wouldn't be a super hard jump to make for someone as wonderfully perceptive and empathetic as Marinette.

It didn't take long for their pizza and salads to arrive, and in that time Adrien got a response from Nino, apologizing for his girlfriend and swearing up and down that he had tried to dissuade her from tailing them but clearly failed. Adrien told Nino to tell Alya that if they couldn't cut the stalking out, he and Marinette were going to go back to not telling people when they were going out on dates.

The clear yelp from the general direction of Alya's table three minutes later told him that his message had been delivered.

Between the two of them, Adrien and Marinette polished up both of their salads and the pizza. They had ended up with one slice left and, after spending a minute trying to give it to the other person, ended up sharing the slice. And, naturally, they hadn't just cut it in half and each taken half.

No, they had decided to eat from opposite ends, Lady and the Tramp-style. There had been a lot of giggling and a lot of bumping noses as the piece got progressively smaller, and Adrien was sure that some of the people at nearby tables had been less than impressed by the display. But he really didn't care.

He enjoyed being able to be silly with someone else, and Marinette instigated the silliness just as much as he did. That helped him not feel as self-conscious as he no doubt would otherwise.

"Look, it's snowing," Marinette said as they packed up, pulling coats and hats on. "We'll have a proper white Christmas this year, it seems. It'll be gorgeous."

"It will!" Adrien agreed, leading the way out of the restaurant. He didn't miss the way that one certain booth leaned away as they passed, hiding their faces behind slices of pizza and a book. "I've always wanted to have a snowball fight in the park. My parents never allowed it, but I've gotten more freedom recently, it seems."

Marinette made a face. "Snowball fights are overrated. They're all wet and cold and ugh."

"You could just watch from a safe distance and cheer me on," Adrien suggested, pushing the door open and wincing at the change in temperature. It was chilly outside. "Or sit and laugh as I get completely soaked through, whichever happens."

"I like the hot chocolate and cookies after a snowball fight. I can watch and then join you for that bit." Marinette tugged her scarf up to cover more of her face as they headed up the block. "Or hot soup and cheese sandwiches. That's really good, too."

Adrien laughed. "How can you think of food right now? I'm stuffed!"

"It's just what I normally have!"

They were a block away from Marinette's house when the akuma alert on their phones went off. Adrien's hand went to his pocket automatically to silence it, mentally bemoaning the end of their date and the end of his being able to pretend that he was just a normal boy.

"We have to get inside," Marinette said at once, grabbing Adrien's hand and tugging him into a run. "The streets are never safe anymore."

Adrien let himself be tugged along, but his mind was already racing. He couldn't go inside with Marinette, because there wouldn't be any way for him to get away again. And he needed to get away, because Ladybug and Chat Noir needed to be on the scene ASAP, and before they could get there they needed to round up their second string of superheroes. And considering that Chloe could be anywhere in the city right now, getting a mani-pedi or having her hair done or doing some Christmas shopping, he had to move fast.

"Actually, I just got a text from the Gorilla," Adrien said quickly before Marinette could pull him inside. "He's right around the corner, because he was going to pick me up and bring me over to see Mom this afternoon. He'll know where the akuma is and how to avoid it."

Marinette frowned, glancing around. "Really? I don't see him yet."

"He's almost here," Adrien insisted, feeling terrible about having to lie to Marinette, but this was really important. That was another reason why he couldn't get into a real relationship right now- if he felt bad about lying to her now, it would be worse if they were actually dating. "I know the route that he's taking, I can meet him halfway. But you should go inside."

"If you're positive." Marinette looked around again, one hand on the doorknob to her house. "You know that if you want to stick around until the Gorilla gets here but you think it would be too hard to see from the door, you can always hang around in the bakery."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"Stay safe!"

Adrien nodded, waving to Marinette as she went inside. He hovered for a moment to make sure that she was actually in, then turned and bolted, slipping slightly on the wet sidewalk as he made a beeline for a concealed alleyway. The streets were clearing quickly as people rushed home or found shops to take shelter in, which made it easier for him to get away unnoticed.

"Plagg, eat up and then I have to transform," Adrien said, pulling out a hunk of Camembert and handing it to his kwami. Plagg dove for the cheese, and while he ate, Adrien scrolled through his phone, taking note of where the akuma was. A text to Chloe confirmed that she was at the hairdresser's, but they were delaying her appointment so that she could go out and save the city. He sent off a text to Marinette, claiming that his driver had picked him up, and then he put his phone away, straightened, and rolled his shoulders, focusing on the job ahead.

After all, superheroes didn't get holidays.

  It had been a while since they had a minion-creating akuma, and Chat Noir had to say that he hadn't missed it. He wasn't in the direct line of attack this time- once again, he was partnered up with Dragoness to face off against the Purple Lady, and he was keeping a careful eye both on her and on the akuma. Across the road, on the other line of rooftops, the other members of their superhero team were torn between fighting the akuma and knocking away her minions as they scaled the buildings, determined to get to the superheroes.

Surprisingly, there weren't that many minions. Apparently people had moved inside quickly enough to limit the number of possible victims.

Still, they were having some issues. The second string of superheroes didn't have great weapons for knocking the minions back, having to push them back down to the street one by one. Queen Bee looked particularly frustrated.

If he were over there, he could clear huge portions of minions in one easy sweep. That would clear up more people to help Ladybug. But he couldn't leave Dragoness alone, even if she had all but taken over the fight with the Purple Lady and left him as back-up.

Unless...one of the other second-stringers came over to take his spot. They wouldn't be able to keep the Purple Lady back for long, but Dragoness would only need cover for a few seconds so she could recover in case she was knocked down. She didn't need to have someone who was just as strong of a fighter as she was there, just someone who could buy her a little time.

Hopefully she would figure out what he was doing.

Chat Noir glanced over again, this time catching Queen Bee's eye. Plan decided, he jerked his head. She caught on at once, planting her heel in the face of one more minion as she leapt over the road and landed next to Chat Noir as he somersaulted backwards out of the fight. She shot a very nervous look towards the Purple Lady, but it was only a second before she straightened her shoulders, resolute. "Yes?"

"You're on backup now," Chat Noir told her. "I'll take your place dealing with the minions. Dragoness can probably carry the fight, but if she gets knocked off at all, you'll have to fight long enough for her to get back up on her feet. Try to keep the Purple Lady busy enough that she can't try to cast any spells- and get out of the way if she manages to get enough of an opening to cast. Can you do that?"

"I'll do my best, Chat Noir!"

Chat Noir flashed her a brief smile before taking a running leap across the street, immediately jumping into action. Minions went tumbling within seconds, knocked aside by his staff. Rena Rouge and Carapace cheered when they saw him.

"Go help Ladybug!" Chat Noir called over his shoulder. "I'll keep the rooftop clear!"

Much to his relief, there was no argument. They dashed over to Ladybug, weapons at the ready. Chat Noir glanced back across the street to make sure that Dragoness and Queen Bee were still doing all right- they were, and he had to wonder if Dragoness had even noticed the switch in her back-up- before lengthening his baton and pushing back the possessed citizens, knocking them down like bowling pins. Behind him, there were shouts as some of Rena Rouge's and Carapace's attacks landed, knocking the akuma off-balance.

Oh, they should have gone with this arrangement ages ago. Having him team up with Dragoness for her first battle had made sense, of course- they didn't know how absolutely amazing she would be at it- but now that they knew that she could hold her own, they could use the other second-string superheroes to watch her back so that he wasn't wasted during a battle.

...though perhaps Queen Bee had been a poor choice. Her dad would be less than pleased about the superheroes putting her anywhere near the Purple Lady. She had her Sting, though, so that should be enough to keep her safe.

"Lucky Charm!"

Chat Noir glanced over in time to see some sort of slingshot drop into Ladybug's hand. Judging by her delighted grin, she had already picked out how she was meant to use it. Chat Noir was almost tempted to watch, but another wave of blank-eyed minions was making their way up the sides of the building and he couldn't spare a moment.

He felt really, really bad about whacking innocent civilians around like this, but Ladybug's Miraculous Cure would undo all of the sprains and broken noses and bruises that the minions got when they tumbled back down to the street.

"Carapace, block it! Now, while they're down on the street! And Rena- now!"

The sound of both superheroes summoning their powers reached Chat Noir's ears, and he had to wonder why they hadn't done it before. Maybe Ladybug had assumed that they would be able to figure out when and how to use them on their own, like he often did, and they had been waiting for instruction instead.

It didn't matter now, at least. Carapace's force field slammed down around them, blocking the minions down below. Rena Rouge's illusion bloomed out around them, creating duplicate superheroes and confusing the akuma as the real superheroes ducked and wove around them. Chat Noir dove into the fray, dodging the frantic blasts from the akuma's weapon as she tried and failed to hit any real target. Behind the akuma, Chat Noir saw Ladybug pull back her slingshot and let go, sending a handful of broken shingle bits straight at the akuma's blaster. One piece made contact with a BANG!, and the weapon cracked. Seconds later, the corrupted butterfly peeled itself free.

Chat Noir blinked as the force field and the illusions promptly vanished, clearly recalled by their casters. As Ladybug threw out her yo-yo to purify the butterfly, he spotted Carapace and Rena Rouge leaping across the street, making a beeline for the Purple Lady. She noticed and shoved Dragoness back, getting her arm cut in the process but clearly not noticing at all as she made a dash for it. Rena Rouge and Carapace followed in hot pursuit, ignoring Ladybug's calls for them to come back.

Chat Noir's heart dropped. As long as the Purple Lady had been busy fighting Dragoness, her hands and focus had been occupied and she hadn't been able to cast any spells. Now that her hands were free, she could.

And neither Rena nor Carapace knew neither that nor how to block those curses, and their transformations would come undone in only a couple minutes. And, actually, they knew that second bit, so what were they thinking?

"Carapace and Rena, back here now!" Chat Noir bellowed. "Drop the chase! You only have a couple minutes left of your transformations left!"

Finally, finally the two superheroes slowed down. Chat Noir caught a flash of purple as the Purple Lady escaped, but he was less concerned about that than he was the slightly sour looks on Carapace and Rena's faces as they turned back to join the group.

"Well, I certainly wasn't expecting that," Ladybug said as she joined Chat Noir. A little belatedly, she cast the cure, undoing the damage from the akuma. Behind her, Queen Bee was bringing the akuma victim back down to the street. "I mean, I noticed that they seemed a bit off during the fight, taking more risks than they should have and not using their powers until I told them to, even though I had told them at the start to look for openings where they could act. But I didn't think that they would go off on their own like that."

Chat Noir frowned. "I wonder why they've decided to act out now. D'you think that they're sour about Dragoness being so good and being able to go up against the Big Bad, even though she's just started out?"

Ladybug shook her head. "I doubt it. But I know them in real life, and I know they've been frustrated about how the Purple Lady is getting all the holiday celebrations in Paris canceled. So they might be trying to force an end now." She frowned. "And now we're going to have to explain more than I wanted to, which... well, I would have told them more before, but I don't want to risk anything getting out. And they, uh..."

"You think that they might let something slip," Chat Noir finished. That was less than ideal. They should be able to count on their team not to spill anything. They had certainly been able to keep Chloe up to date without any ill effects, though then again, if it weren't for the fact that Mrs. Agreste was involved, he doubted that she would be nearly as close-mouthed about it. "...at least Duusu is improving and we'll be able to finish things up soon, right? If they do let something slip, surely it would only get to a few people before we end things, right?"

Ladybug looked less than convinced.

"We could have caught her!" Carapace complained as he and Rena Rouge landed on the rooftop. "If everyone else came with us, we might have actually been able to win for once."

"Your timers are running out," Ladybug reminded him, a note of steel running through her tone. Chat Noir resisted the urge to wince. Oh, she was ticked.

Rena Rouge only barely flinched. "We wouldn't be running down if you taught us the spell to keep the transformation going!"

Carapace nodded heatedly. "Exactly! What does it matter if half of the threat is gone once we've defeated the akuma? That's not solving anything! All you do is come out, deal with the akuma, and let her run away again! Are we going to spend the rest of our lives like this, getting called out to fight for our lives? I say we go after her and end this!"

Queen Bee and Dragoness exchanged a look but neither said anything, which Chat Noir was grateful for- though he couldn't deny that he was a little puzzled, too. Queen Bee knew why they weren't bothering to go after the Purple Lady yet, but Dragoness at least would be curious, right?

Maybe she still felt too new to question the more established superheroes.

Ladybug's lips pressed into a thin line. Her eyes narrowed when their Miraculous gave another beep. "We need to get you down to street level to detransform."

"But-" Rena started, but a nudge from Carapace stopped her. They both still looked slightly mutinous as they waved good-bye to the other heroes and jumped down to the street, with Ladybug right behind them. She had clearly activated the spell to keep her transformation, which was smart. No doubt she would have to answer at least some questions to keep the peace.

He didn't envy her, not at all.

"Chat Noir, I really have to get back to my hair appointment," Queen Bee said, tapping at his shoulder. "Can I give my Miraculous back now?"

"Yeah, yeah, of course." Chat Noir glanced back at Dragoness. "Uh..."

"I will remain here until Ladybug returns," Dragoness promised.

Chat Noir nodded, and he and Queen Bee jumped down to the ground. It took no time at all for her to detransform and return the Miraculous, and then he poled his way back up to the rooftops. As promised, Dragoness was still waiting.

"I'm sorry you had to see that disagreement," Chat Noir said, heading over to stand with her. He kept one eye out, just in case the Purple Lady decided to return for the lingering superheroes. "We don't normally have arguments like that."

"Do they not know that you're planning on wrapping up the fight soon?" Dragoness asked curiously. "I would think that they would be willing to wait a little longer to finish up the fight safely."

Chat Noir blinked. "...Ladybug told you that?"

"I had inquired about how frequently I would be needed and for how long after last fight," Dragoness told him. "It is not easy for me to slip away from my normal life without being noticed and getting serious consequences, and I wanted to know if there was any end to the fight in sight. Ladybug told me that there were plans in place to end it and that you know who she is."

It had probably helped that Dragoness had expressed her concerns in (what sounded like, at least) a calm, straightforward manner instead of flagrantly ignoring directions like Rena and Carapace. Still, it was a little surprising that Ladybug had apparently told their newest teammate more than their (slightly) more experienced ones.

"Well, I'm glad that you can come out and help us," Chat Noir said instead of expressing any of that. "You're a fantastic fighter. To be able to go up against the Purple Lady like that? We should have brought you on board sooner."

Dragoness looked pleased. "Thank you. I've been training with a sword- well, a fencing saber- for my entire life. I can't deny that the transformation gives my skills an extra boost, though, and it's definitely needed. I've never seen someone fight like the Purple Lady- it's like she doesn't even have to think about her attacks. It's entirely reflex, no reaction time necessary, and she clearly has no conscience holding her back. Very hard to fight against. I can tell that you're quite a good fighter, too," she added. "It is obvious that you have some fencing background, even though you're fighting with a staff instead of a sword."

"It's a bit different," Chat Noir agreed. "I miss the hand guards sometimes, but my staff is so useful."

"Much more of a multi-use tool than a sword." Dragoness cracked a smile. "Though I can't deny how thrilled I was to see that I had a sword with my transformation. I was worried that I would get a 'weapon' like the others, and I really don't have the slightest idea of how I would fight with a yo-yo, or a top, or a flute, or a shield. Or how I would fight alongside others- I'm trained for one-on-one." Her smile turned sheepish. "So I was quite happy to be assigned to the Purple Lady, as odd as that sounds. And today, with Queen Bee as backup- I think that was actually easier than trying to trade off the fight with you."

"It takes some practice to make the shift, yeah." It was nice to have someone who could understand the shift between fencing bouts and all-out battles. He had to watch himself in fencing class now, making sure that he actually followed the rules and didn't just fight like he would as Chat Noir. "And Ladybug must have known that, to match Miraculous and position up so well. I did have my doubts when she just threw you in the deep end with the Purple Lady, but-"

"-it was definitely the best position for me," she finished. "She has quite the head for strategy, doesn't she? Whoever picked her did quite the good job."

Chat Noir was about to nod in agreement when Ladybug landed back up on the rooftop, looking a little cross as she tucked the Fox and Turtle Miraculous back in her yo-yo. She mustered up a smile for Dragoness, though, and Dragoness offered Chat Noir a wave before heading off with Ladybug. Chat Noir waited, and this time it was less than a minute before Ladybug returned.

"This is possibly the worst time for Rena and Carapace to rebel," Ladybug said with a sigh as she joined Chat Noir, offering up a fist for him to bump. "But I told them that we were working on some things to finish the fights and we were getting close, so I would appreciate their patience and cooperation."

"Dragoness said that you told her that we know who the Purple Lady is and that there's a plan to end the fights," Chat Noir said searchingly, returning the fist bump before catching Ladybug's hand in silent question. She finally smiled.

"Compared to Rena Rouge, Dragoness is a veritable safe. I probably could have told her everything and as long I requested it stay secret, she wouldn't have told a soul."

Chat Noir laughed, the stress from the fight finally sliding off of his shoulders. "Rena is a little chatty, then?"

Ladybug's smile turned wry. "Oh, you have no idea."

[parabelled]

3, 7, 9, 15, 18

booknet ask game (Apologies for the delay!):

3. what was the last book you rated 1/5? 

Probably this horrific and justifiably priced 0.25 cent paperback I got from the library book sale. I care so little about the title I’m not even going to bother getting up to look at it, but basically it was somehow involving a mystery on a liner heading to New York, and The Kennedys circa 1941 when Joe (’God what a terrible person’) Kennedy was ambassador to England (And casual Nazi supporter/isolationist, lovely).

But the book promises you that it will mostly talk about Rosemary Kennedy as a character. Which I liked, because in case you don’t know, Rosemary Kennedy was JFK’s sister who was considered the ‘prettiest’ of all the Kennedy girls, but also constantly was on a diet because she ‘put on weight easily’ (Poor girl), and because she was seen as ‘simple.’ Supposedly when she was in her early twenties, she had the mental capacities or a naive thirteen year old/ writing level of an eight year old. They kept basically shoving her into boarding schools to try to push her forward in terms of education, but obviously when she most likely had something like a severe case of autism, there weren’t exactly many programs that directly addressed those who were learning disabled, and being a Kennedy, they most likely were like PUSH HER THROUGH IT AND SHE’LL BE FINE (Great, thanks guys).

All this being said, there is proof in terms of letters that basically everyone was afraid, because once she became a teenager, she started running away from these schools or sneaking out late at night, and they were literally worried because of how ‘naive’ she was, that she’d end up getting pregnant by some weirdo guy forcing himself on her/ convincing her to have sex. What most normal people/historians think now, is that she saw her brother being John F. Kennedy, El Primo Playboy of the World 1941, dating movie stars and having a buttload of friends (As my older brother used to say), and she obviously wanted to be involved in this glamorous, fun life with the rest of her family, rather than shoved away at some crappy boarding school with nuns the age of time immemorial (Understandable). (Also, for what it’s worth, JFK basically WAS a great older brother, for what I’ve heard, and wanted his parents to loosen up on her. He involved her in his social groups if she was around and never pushed her into anything that someone with her ‘limitations’ might be hurt by).

So of course the natural thing would be to do is to give her a lobotomy so she doesn’t run away, and of course, it had some horrific side effects and basically killed her personality entirely from all accounts, making her basically a human vegetable with only a shadow of the person she’d been before. After that Joe ‘I’m the Worst’ Kennedy carted his daughter off, and debatably, depending on who you ask, she was basically ignored by most of the family for 60+ years of her living in a care home, or embraced in private (The Kennedy message/propaganda/nice try guys). There’s really only consistent public photos of Ted Kennedy visiting her, because besides the whole ‘I accidentally murdered a woman I was having an affair with’ thing, Ted was the baby and seemed actually like ironically the most ‘Christian’ in the most broadest sense of the word besides Bobby Kennedy (Yes, I know they’re Catholic, it’s an analogy).

So bringing this back to this awful book, the ‘mystery’ on the cruise liner shit basically seemingly revolves around Rosemary pre-lobotomy and how she wants to get married to a ‘coloured jazz man.’ BUT THIS NEVER FACTORS INTO THE PLOT. NONE OF THE HISTORICAL FIGURES ABOARD DO EVEN THOUGH THEY HAVE ‘POV’ CHAPTERS ASIDE ORIGINAL CHARACTERS.

You heard me right. xD I KNOW IT’S THE 1940S IN THE BOOKS AND THERE’S FAR WORSE THAT COULD HAVE BEEN DONE AND THE JAZZ MAN IS NICE AND ALL BUT DAMN IT’S SORT OF THE WORST, BECAUSE THEY BASICALLY MAKE THIS THE ENTIRE REASON FOR HER LOBOTOMY AND WHILE THEORETICALLY IT WOULD FIT IN WITH JOE’S MOTIVATIONS HISTORICALLY, IT JUST CAME OFF AS SUPER SKEEZY AND UGH. Mostly the book A) Actually did a considerable job giving Rosemary a sweet and loving personality that you like, but considering what you know if you’re probably reading this book and how they’re just dropping bread crumbs the entire way through, it’s just incredibly morbid and bleh. 

If you’re going to write historical characters and fiction well, at least have something more to back it up than ‘Racism was more (outwardly) prevalent back then so she was going to be in an interracial relationship so lobotomy.” It just came off as conflating two important issues (The rights of the learning disabled to date and have families of their own, and interracial romances versus status in society), and just came out to justify it for a lobotomy we never even see. (Trust me, I’m making it sound far more interesting than it is).

Plus the mystery on the liner is the main aspect of the story, and I think that’s what makes it the worst: This author just chose to have these random historical figures on BECAUSE, and considering Rosemary’s background and what we know happened to her, it just seemed like a pretty desperate ploy to reel people in (like myself), and have them go, “Wait, this is just a sub-par mystery book, not a historical mystery book: She used that whole actual living person who existed and who was screwed over by her own family as ‘shock value’ and a ‘hook’ for the audience.” Double EW.

7. what was the last book that made you cry? 

Indian Horse by Richard Wagamese, who is unfortunately no longer with us but a BEACON of Canadian Literature, and I'm SO sad he didn’t get to write more books, because his writing style is BEAUTIFUL and poetic.

“Saul Indian Horse is an alcoholic Ojibway man who finds himself the reluctant resident of an alcohol treatment centre after his latest binge. To come to peace with himself, he must tell his story. Richard Wagamese takes readers on the often difficult journey through Saul's life, from his painful forced separation from his family and land when he's sent to a residential school to the brief salvation he finds in playing hockey. The novel is an unflinching portrayal of the harsh reality of life in 1960s Canada, where racism reigns and Saul's spirit is destroyed by the alienating effects of cultural displacement.”

What you also don’t get about the book from this review, is the role hockey plays as being central to the narrative. In that moment, and when Saul is young, inside his own head, he is just what we as the reader see him as: A young boy who loves a sport and finds it freeing. A PERSON. A kid who loves hockey. 

He’s so good that he has a chance to make it to the NHL. He’s good enough to play on the ‘white teams,’ but when he starts beating white players, grown men and women throw things at him, like plastic ‘Indians’ from a ‘Cowboy and Indian’ set. 

He is a skilled player. He has raw talent. But to make it to the next level, and because they won’t let him be on the team in any other role, because a Native man can’t become a skilled star in 1960s Canada, he has to become a ‘goon.’ There’s actually a moment in the book where he snaps, and it’s so well written and heartbreaking, where it’s like this Dr. Jekyll/Mr. Hyde dynamic inside of him, where he literally just goes, “Okay? You want me to be a bloodthirsty ‘Indian’? Then I’ll be that for you.”

There’s also a movie I haven’t had the guts to watch all the way through, because I tried watching it on a plane ride from Australia to Canada without actually having read the book first, and having no idea what the movie was about aside from hockey and Indigenous culture, and Jesus Christ IT KILLED ME. I’m terrible at flying, had been throwing up and thoroughly miserable for about three hours at that point on the plane, tried to turn on a movie to distract myself, and within ten minutes, I was like “No, I think sticking to the vomiting is justified.” (To give you an idea of the directing style, it’s bizarrely produced by uber-Republican yet ‘weirdly-obsessed with Indigenous people’ movie star Clint Eastwood. If you’ve seen his other films and how sparse and depressing they can be, you can only IMAGINE what this material lends itself to. So I’d really stick to reading the book first. Because Wagamese’s voice is so much stronger within the book, and the pain and horror poor Saul is exposed to serves a purpose within the larger narrative much more clearly, and even when he is an alcoholic, he still is able to find hope within himself and returning to his people, and that’s a beautiful thing that I think was lost in the portions of the film I was able to catch.) Check it out: It was only written in 2012, but it’s already being heralded as a ‘classic’ in Canadian Indigenous Literature.

9. do you actually check out books that have been recommended for you?

I do. I might not actually READ them, but I’ll at least check out a snippet on Amazon to see if it’s my cup of tea. So if anyone has any recommendations, go right on ahead <3

15. how do you feel about reading buddies?  

I would love a reading buddy! <3 Feel free to message me if you’re keen. <3

18. what was your favourite book when you were 10?

Probably something by Roald Dahl or The Hobbit, if we’re talking sheer escapism or enjoyment (Or the original run of Harry Potter). My Dad is an English teacher, so I was always reading older books than were probably age-appropriate (I was placed at a college-reading level at twelve on an assessment test), so other than that, a lot of classic literature: Just name it, I’ve probably read it. 

I also was a nerd who decided to read the entire dictionary back to front somewhere around this time and copy down all the words I actually didn’t know on a list, so that was a hobby. xD I guess I could count that as a ‘favourite book.’ (-Insert Homer Simpson “NEEeeeRRRddddd” gif here-).

[movedyourchair505]

Napule Nights - ventuno

This is a bit of a shameless excuse to focus on Mr. Miles Kane, but I promise the next chapter is one I have been planning since I started writing this story and it will be worth this little filler. Thanks to Elana again for helping me!! xx

- chapter navigation -

x

In opposition to what Jade had hoped for, a security guard unknown to her came to her suite the next day, informed her that she would be meeting Serena, not Turner, to discuss business, plan another job he'd set up for her and while she couldn't hide her disappointment, she was glad that at least she'd be preoccupied.

The slight buzz of booze and lust had worn off, and she was slowly but gradually growing more and more aware of Turner's shift in behaviour, how he'd made sure that she was okay back at the meeting, how he'd given her instantly what she wanted and kept his teasing to a minimum, had made sure she felt good beyond his own pleasure, had praised her for doing a good job.

She followed the henchman to Serena's office, was then led inside and to her disappointment spent several hours discussing a job she would have to do the next day and while it was nowhere near as risky as anything she'd done before, it required a lot more background knowledge about the business and the plans, insight she knew she only deserved now after proving to Turner that she was not entirely useless when it came to working for him and she tried to pay as close attention as she could while simultaneously trying to push the recollection of the previous night to the back of her mind, trying her hardest to stay professional and not give into the temptation of thinking about Turner's hands on her, knowing she would get too worked up too quickly and she didn't know how long she would be in the company of others.

Confident that she'd be able to do the job successfully if she remembered everything, she left the office and was brought right back to her suite, left on her own before she could even ask about Turner, or if he wanted to see her and after she'd eaten and been given more paperwork to go through, she doubted it would even happen and the more time passed, the more convinced she grew that Turner regretted his actions, was purposely avoiding her but she tried to tell herself that he was just busy, that he had other obligations, that she would see him the next day but it pained her to think about all the progress being diminished, of the distance and the time making it all seem unreal, and that they would be back to where they were before.

The description of the following job had left no room for Turner's presence and she was brought to the location of the meeting by the same security man from the previous day as soon as she'd gotten ready, followed the plan all the way down to its every detail, all the while secretly hoping that if she wouldn't get to see Turner, he at least would hear that she'd done a good job. For a moment she even toyed with the idea of making a mistake purposely, knowing she would have to justify herself.

But ultimately, she knew that that would only make things worse in terms of his attitude towards her because she had his trust now and she knew better than to ruin it again and the day passed without so much as a mention of his name by his security and Serena when she briefly met her after, once again too short and too focused on the job to even ask about Turner and by the end of it, she was not only frustrated that she hadn't seen him, but also physically ached to just see his face, see that smug half-smile, feel his hands on her, her body didn't hurt as much anymore as it had the day before, she needed more, it was always like he'd never touched her but the memory was vivid, she couldn't have made the incredible pleasure he'd made her feel up if she tried. She would never forget the way he made use of his every movement to make sure she would remember him, remember where he'd been, where he'd marked and played with her, seeking to dominate her completely.

She dragged out her shower in the evening longer than necessary, touched and fucked herself on her favourite toy until she could no longer think straight, her desperate moans echoing off the walls, indulging in the delicious memories of Turner fucking her into that state of bliss she was now chasing, blurring them with hopeful fantasies but nothing could come close to the way he handled her body, no toy stretched her as roughly, no orgasm she evoked in herself was a match to the mess he reduced her to, held her down and took her mercilessly.

When she stepped out of the bathroom, surrounded by a blissful scent of her rich body lotion and wrapped up in only the silk gown – one of the few things in the suite she'd grown to love – removing  her towel from her head to let her hair fall down her back, seeking to put on a soft set of lingerie to sleep in and maybe continue soothing her desperate desire for now, the blur of her delight's afterglow was interrupted by the deep sound of someone clearing their throat, making her freeze in her step, the heavy smell of sweet cologne lingering.

On the edge of the end of her bed, one leg resting on the other, one arm propped on the silk sheets sat Kane, shiny merlot suit, fresh tan, scratching at the stubble on his chin, regarding her inquisitively. “Evenin', bella” he drawled, pushing himself forward and adjusting his sitting position, elbows resting on his knees, folding his heavily jeweled hands.

She swallowed hard, the nonchalant expression on his face, how confidently he conducted himself despite the situation fuelling her to not show any trace of discomfort or surprise. It was more his casual demeanor with which he carried himself that irritated her than anything else that made her not want to give him the satisfaction of seeing her thrown off.

“Well, fook” he continued. “Natural fookin' beauteh, aren't you?”

She raised her eyebrows at him, crossing her arms in front of her chest, her breasts threatening to spill over the loose tie of the robe. “Kane, what are you doing here?”

He licked his lips. “You're comin' out wif meh” he declared with a shrug of his shoulders. “And you'll wear this.”

Her eyes followed the nod of his head, gesturing to a dress spread out beside him on the bed and she tilted her head to side. “That's a work dress.”

Miles shrugged, looking back at her, patient, unimpressed, held her gaze until she relaxed her shoulders and stepped forward to pick up the dress, the white white fabric sheer, see-through everywhere except her bust and crotch, completely backless and held together only with a series of thin diamanté straps, a large slit at the side of her thigh that with like any pole-dancing dress allowed the right amount of space to move while also leaving up just the tiniest bit of her body up to imagination. The neckline was low, the dress tight and suggestive.

“Be right back” she stated before retreating to the bathroom after picking up a thong from her drawer, leaving the door ajar when he already spoke again. “Got quite a collection in tha' drawer there, dun't you?”

She rolled her eyes, scolding herself mentally for being surprised because if he'd gone through her work dresses, he'd also gone through the other stuff. It wasn't like she'd expected any privacy anyway, she was positive that every day when the suite was empty, someone did a security sweep, so this was really no different.

“Are men so dissatisfactoreh teh you?”

She smiled to herself, pulling on the dress and adjusting it on the curves of her body before she began to brush her hair. “For the most part.”

A low chuckle was audible from the other room, a shift on the bed. “Were gunna go eat at one of Al's restaurants, you're 'ungreh, reyht?”

“Sounds good” she called back, stepping close to the mirror and beginning to take care of her skin before starting on her make up. “I'll be ready in a few minutes.”

She heard a huff from him, then he spoke before she could question his reaction. “Never fail teh amaze meh, do you?”

She lined her lips, applied powers to all the right places. “Scusi?”

“Are you sayin' tha' all of … you just 'appens?”

Jade laughed, sprayed her face and combed her hair to fall straight down her back, then stepped out, taking immense pleasure in the way Kane's indifferent expression morphed into one of utter fascination, but refused to let it show, reveling in the feeling while walking to her close and pulling out a fur shawl and pulling it on, effortlessly transforming the suggestive work dress into a tasteful evening look. She was now secretly hoping that she would see Turner, that this was the nature of Kane's visit and she quickly glamourized her look with a rose gold necklace and several rings.

“Now weh match, bella” Kane announced, pointing to her, then his own look, his white shirt matching her dress, the fur the colour of his suit.

“Don't get too excited” she said as she picked up her small bag and walked past him, her heels clicking on the floor and she pushed the door open, holding it out for them, smiling to herself when Miles jumped to his feet and crossed the room, holding his arm out for her.

The way to the restaurant took only slightly longer than it would have to the club and Jade tried to memorize the way but before she knew it, they were sat at “Al's usual table”, located right by the window, the second floor of the building hovering right over the ocean by the harbour, the two security guards Kane had taken to the car with them close by. The chairs and tables were dark wood, the music soft and mellow and the inside of the restaurant bright, tiny lights all over illuminating the room in contrast to the dark skies outside, the crescent moon reflecting in the water below the horizon.

Kane waved a waiter over instantly, not bothering even picking up his menu. “Two of me usual, yeh?”

Jade held back a comment, deciding to just go with whatever he was doing, she had enough money, she wasn't a picky eater, but before Miles could patronise her meal order, she opened the menu, flicking through it.

“It's on me, by the weh, get anehfin' you want, bella...” He chimed in, interrupting her studying of the menu and he smirked when she looked up, giving her a wink. “Wha' a proper vero gentiluomo does on a date.”  

She raised an eyebrow at him. “This is not a date, Kane.”

Miles chuckled, giving a slight shake of his head, looking out at the view and scratching at his chin. “Nah, tha'd beh too easy, innit? Not wha' you're after...”

She licked her lips, too curious to deny him the satisfaction of asking. “What do you mean?”

“Datin' meh” he responded, looking back at her. “Would beh too easeh for you. Wouldn't beh after Al if you wanted easeh.”

“Well, you know all about that, don't you?”

The glint of playfulness in his eyes turned into amusement and he leaned back in his chair, giving a chuckle. “Reyht...” he said.

Jade shut her menu and put it down abruptly, waving to the waiter herself now. “I'd like the Bay Eel” she announced, repeating the name of the dish she'd found at the far end of the menu which was not coincidentally the most expensive as well.

Miles sucked in a breath, but chuckled, gave her a look of approval, smug and as if tipping his hat to her. “And I'll 'ave the lobster frittata, per favore. And would you 'urreh wif our drinks?”

“Yes, Mr. Kane, they will be with you in just a moment” the waiter assured him before excusing himself.

Miles gave a nod, then focused his full attention back on Jade. “I 'eard ya did a good job today” he said, leaning forward over the table with his elbow resting on the top.

She raised her eyebrows at him. “Cut the crap, Kane” she sighed.

“Wha'?” He asked, tilting his head to the side and looking back at her, confused. “Wha' do you mean, bella?”

“Oh, please. You're not telling me you don't have ulterior motives. What could have possibly made you decide to spend the evening with me instead of Turner?”

Miles blinked a few times, staring back at her. “Well, Al's in San Marino.”

Her eyes widened, her posture faltering and she couldn't conceal her surprise this time. “He's away?”

Kane nodded, shrugging matter-of-factly. “Joost for a few days” he said.

“What's in San Marino?” She asked, unable to keep her curiosity to herself now.

“Business” he responded. “He's … oh, alreyht!” He called, interrupting himself when the waiter brought their drinks, placing a colourful cocktail in front of them each. “Let's 'ave it.” He picked up his cocktail and lifted the glass over the table.

Jade lifted her own glass and turned it to figure out its contents. “What's this?” She questioned.

“It's a Candeh Kane” Miles smirked proudly.

She stared back at him blankly, inhaling slowly. “Candy Kane?” She repeated in monotone, but it didn't wipe the excitement of the boyish face staring right back at her.

“Cin cin, bella!”

She caved and let out a breath, moving her glass to meet his and staring back into his eyes before taking a sip, grimacing instantly. “That is...” She swallowed hard. “A very fitting name.”

Miles grinned, raking his fingers through his short hair. “So” he drawled. “D'ya ever dance for meh?”

She cocked an eyebrow at him. “Well, have you ever been to my club?” She asked.

“All the fookin' time” he said, an expression of exaggerated offense spreading across his face. “Lana's me favourite.”

Jade couldn't help but smile, nodding. “Yeah, she's lovely” she said, once again realising that she had been too worried about going out publicly to see her friends at the club.

“Sheh makes sum bloodeh good cappuccino as well.”

She laughed, shaking her head in disbelief.

“Wha'?” He smirked.

“Seems everyone in this city has either slept with you or would like to.”

Kane cackled, adjusting the gold watch around his wrist as he held her gaze. “Is tha' wha' me reputation is?”

“Well” she said. “That and the stories about you and Turner.”

He waved it off, shaking his head. “Well, weh've been over tha', 'aven't weh?” He asked, discarding the topic before Jade could even respond. “Fookin' shocker 'bout Vittorio, weren't it?”

Jade tensed slightly, realising that Turner must have told him about their conversation in the car but deciding instantly she had to be sure before she would share. “What do you mean?”

Kane shrugged. “Well, 'e won't beh out of the 'ospital anehtime soon” he said absently, looking out at the ocean again. “Were a louseh shag anehweh.”

Her eyes grew wider at his words, glad he hadn't noticed her surprise and she took a sip of the awful cocktail to hide her reaction. She was unsure now if he'd meant to share new information with her, or if he'd assumed she already knew but then again, she was allowing herself to jump to conclusions, there might not have been a connection and she was too prideful to ask in case she was wrong, trying desperately to change the subject herself now, relieved when their food arrived and she dug right in to avoid any more conversation until his mind would have drifted as well.

The restaurant had become more busy, she could sense a view heads turning to watch them, certain that no matter who people were looking at, it was because of their association with Turner, but she tried to not allow herself too much speculation once again, instead focusing on the spectacular view, the rich flavour of the food, finishing the cocktail dutifully before calling the waiter over again, ordering a glass of cognac.

“You not put off yet?” Kane asked, swallowing and licking his lips, his shiny eyes fixating on her face once again.

“Put off by what exactly?” She questioned.

He shrugged. “This fing you've gotten pulled inteh. Can beh intimidatin', reyht?”

She leaned back. “What do you actually know about me, Kane?”

A smirk played around the corners of his mouth and he shoved in some more food, wiggling his eyebrows at her. “More than you fink, bella. And anehfin' I dunno I can easileh find out.”

“Or you could ask me” she shrugged, welcoming her drink when the waiter brought it over and taking a big sip. “I'm not a huge fan of rumours.”

He cackled, shaking his head. “Reyht” he drawled. “Is Al satisfyin' ya then?”

She blinked, parting her lips, then blinking again, pondering with a good response. “Scusi?”

“Well, 's not too late teh jump on the Kane train, bella.”

Jade huffed, couldn't suppress a small laugh, shaking her head at him again. “Has that line ever worked?”

He rolled his eyes. “I'm not tryin' teh get in your pantehs, luv. Joost tryin' teh 'ave gal talk wif ya.”

“Well, Kane” she said, licking her lips as she swallowed the last of her food, intrigued as she leaned closer to him over the table. “Why don't you tell me about the last time you were satisfied?”

[muffininahandbasket]

Buckle up my dudes, it’s story time

Sorry this is so long, but it’s important and needs to be said.

I’m a middle school music teacher in an urban district. Along with fire drills, we also have something called “ALICE” training, which is essentially practice for if there was ever an active shooter in the building. Each of the letters stands for a different method of reaction to an intruder situation based on what situation you are in, but that isn’t what I’m about to get into. I want to tell y’all a story about what transpired today during a “lockdown situation” drill at my school. In a lockdown situation, we are supposed to get all of the students out of the hallway and lock and barricade our doors. Then, we wait while the cops sweep the building to figure out where any issues or weak spots are.

Now, the teachers have known for several weeks that this drill was going to happen during a transition time, so while students were passing from one class to another. The biggest issue this poses for my room is that I am on the opposite side of the school from any other classroom, past the doors to the main lobby and through the cafeteria. The band teacher holds his classes in the auditorium, which cannot be locked but does have two doors that lead directly into my classroom. This means that the band teacher and I had to be very diligent in making sure kids weren’t dawdling in the hallway, and that any kids down our way coming to music or band class were going to end up in my room. We were prepared for this. Getting the kids into the room is not the main idea of this story.

Once we had cleared the hallway, cafeteria, and bathroom, we had to make sure to secure all four entry points to my classroom. The main door that goes into the hallway was locked, and we barricaded it with stacks of chairs. One of the doors leading into the auditorium was locked with a piano pushed in front of it. The fire exit had chairs stacked in front of it, and at this point the kids were spread out in the room. They were quiet, a few were trying to hide, and some of the younger kids were visibly shaken by the experience even though they knew it was a drill.

Now as I’ve said, three points of entry to my classroom were locked and barricaded. The door to the hallway, the fire exit, and one door leading to the auditorium were secured. But there was one more point of entry into my classroom. There is a door right behind my desk that also leads to the auditorium, although few people really know about it because on the auditorium side it is blocked off by stacks of band chairs and the rear stage curtains. Here is where we come to the main point of this lengthy anecdote.

Despite the fact that the door behind my desk is locked and not easily accessible from the other side, one of the other teachers that ended up in my room told an eighth grade student to push my desk chair up against the door for good measure. This student and another classmate did so, but they did not just leave it at that. For the remainder of the drill, those two eighth grade boys pressed themselves up against the door, and at first I thought it was because they were just trying to listen to see if the officers checking our end of the building were in the auditorium. Within ten minutes our principal came over the loudspeaker to tell us that the drill had ended and that we should resume normal activity. We unbarricaded the doors and students went on their way to their second block classes. I had my eighth graders during this block, so as we waited for the rest of my class to arrive from the rooms they ended up getting pulled into for the drill, I asked one of the students who had spent the drill leaning on the door behind my desk why he had stayed there after pushing the chair in front of it. His answer stunned me absolutely speechless.

For some background, this kid is a smart student, but he is also one of the biggest pains in the ass you will ever meet in your life. Like this kid is literally the bane of my existence on any given day. He’s the “class clown” type, and is really good at towing the line of just being annoying versus doing things that can get you sent to the office. He is EXTREMELY talented at pushing just enough buttons that you are absolutely fuming without ever doing anything that’s actually write-up worthy. So back to the point of this seemingly endless tale, the response this eighth grader gives me is “well I didn’t think the chair would be enough to hold the door if someone tried to open it.” “Well the doors are locked and pretty inconvenient to get to on the other side, no one would really be able to get through them,” I told him. He tilted his head at me and said “oh I thought they weren’t locked on the other side! We were trying to hold it closed so that no one could get in and get to everyone.”

Let that sink in for a minute. “We were holding it so the intruder would have a harder time getting in.” This is an actual sentence said to me by a fourteen year old boy, who is usually a massive thorn in my side, after an active shooter training drill. This is an eighth grade student telling me that he was actively putting himself closer to potential danger so that his classmates would be safer. He wanted to make sure everyone else was ok. He thought that in a real situation, those doors could be the difference between life or death for his classmates. This is the response from a CHILD who was essentially ready to put himself in harms way if it meant giving his classmates even the smallest amount of time to get somewhere safer.

Today I came home from work, and I cried. I cried because I am FURIOUS that this kid has to think about what he would do in a situation where someone was trying to hurt him and his classmates. I am so angry that these children live in a world where they have to consider what they would do if some psycho decides to shoot up their school; a place where they go to learn, where they grow as people, where they should never have to feel unsafe. I cried for my students. I cried because I know that if there were ever a real situation where someone was trying to hurt people in my school, I would sooner die than let them hurt any one of my kids. I cried for the victims of all of the mass shooting that have happened in schools across the country because we don’t have uniform gun control laws.

I cried, but they weren’t tears of sadness. They were not tears of fear. It was pure, unadulterated ANGER that was fueling this. Because this is preventable. No child should have to barricade classroom doors and try and figure out the easiest thing in a classroom to chuck at someone if they get through the door with a weapon. No child should have to sit in school, plagued with the very reasonable fear that any day some lunatic might show up with a gun trying to hurt them and their friends. THIS SHOULD NOT BE THE PROBLEM THAT IT HAS BECOME. These tragedies are PREVENTABLE. This is exactly why we need lawmakers who are pro gun control. No one is saying that we should take away all guns from everyone, but something needs to be done because what we’re currently doing is clearly not working. Get rid of large capacity magazines. Do thorough background checks and mental health screenings of anyone and everyone who wants to buy a gun. Make gun owners pass safety courses on a regular basis to renew their licenses to carry. Your “right” to own an assault rifle does not trump the right of my students to feel safe in their school. It does not take precedence over the lives of students and teachers across the country. If you think that you’re “right” to own a weapon should be priotized over the safety, well being, and/or peace of mind of our children, then you have the moral backbone of a jellyfish. Your opinion on gun rights does not justify the fact that there are children in our country who put very serious thought into what they would do if someone with a weapon and an intent to hurt people shows up in their school. Next time you want to tell me that stricter laws are “unconstitutional”, I want you to think of this story. I want you to think of that eighth grade boy who is prepared to put himself in harms way to save his friends, who was willing to bring himself closer to danger to make sure that a classroom full of students that he didn’t even know would be safer. Think about this kid. Think really hard, and then look me in the eye and tell me that gun control isn’t the answer, I dare you.

[saikostories]

GOT7 - The Last Straw (Jackson)

Please note that this scenario contains mentions of domestic abuse and manipulation - reader discretion is advised.

The street-lights flickered on, illuminating the dark alleyway you were currently slumped in. You squinted, rubbing the tail ends of tears which had fallen from your eyes. “Waterproof eyeliner? Hmph” you scoffed, examining your hands which were stained black from the residue on your cheeks. You pulled your knees closer to your chest, hugging them for dear life whilst rocking yourself back and forth.

You felt your phone vibrate from inside your leather jacket pocket. Lazily, you fumbled for it.

Incoming call: Hyeonwoo^_^

You stared at the screen, watching the call go to voicemail after ringing out. Any normal girl wouldn’t be ignoring their boyfriend of 2 years when he called, but then again; any normal boyfriend wasn’t violent towards their girlfriend. You had gotten into a fight with Hyeonwoo over something you both frequently fought about; your close friendship with the boys from GOT7. Hyeonwoo was beyond insanely jealous of them even though you had tried to tell him a million times that there was nothing going on between any of you, and that you were all just best friends. You even went as far as to say that IF there was something going on, you would tell him because you’re not a dirty cheat.

Your phone kept ringing and ringing out, ringing and ringing out; until finally you snapped. You answered the phone not even looking at the screen.

“What do you want, Hyeonwoo!? What more could you possibly have to say to me?!” you screamed, crying more tears that you didn’t think your ducts could produce with the amount that had already escaped tonight.

“(Y/N)? It’s me…Jackson. Are you alright? What happened?”

You sighed, hating yourself for screaming down the phone without even noticing that it wasn’t Hyeonwoo that was calling. You burst into more tears, not being able to control yourself any more.

“Jackson…” you whimpered, your body shaking from exhaustion and the cold night air.

“Where are you? I’m coming to get you right now.” Protective Jackson made himself known. You could hear him mumbling to someone in the background and the jingling of keys. You looked up, before giving him a street name that you could just barely see on a sign.

“Stay right there, don’t move. We’ll be there in 10. Are you safe?” he asked as you could hear a car door opening and the low tone of several voices in the background.

“I’m safe…I think” you whispered, searching from the corner of your eye.

“Alright, I’ll be there soon. Just sit tight, I’m coming for you okay?” the line went dead, suddenly. You looked at your phone which had now died since you didn’t have a chance to grab your portable charger while you were running out of your shared apartment from your boyfriend.

Right on cue 10 minutes later, a black car stopped at the end of the alleyway. Seconds later, 3 figures came running into your field of vision that was still blurry from crying.

Jackson squatted down in front of you, your appearance making his heart hurt with a mixture of frustration, anger and helplessness. He sighed - taking in the sight of your puffy eyes, the black smudges of eyeliner which stained your cheeks, your bare legs donned with goosebumps from the cold.

“Let’s get you out of here (Y/N). We’ll talk more back at the dorm okay?” there was no use in arguing with him at this point. You nodded your head feebly as he pulled you to your feet. You saw Mark and Jaebum standing just a few steps away, confusion and concern on their faces as they saw you had obviously been shaken up a great deal by something. Jackson - almost lifting you into the car, then pulled your seatbelt around you in the back-seat. Jackson sat beside you, while Mark took place beside Jaebum in the passenger seat.

“It’s him again, isn’t it…” Mark said quietly, Jaebum’s jaw tightening in an attempt to control his anger that was slowly bubbling over while doing well over the speed limit. Jackson couldn’t keep his eyes off you as he placed your head on his chest, slowly stroking your head while lovingly hushing your quiet sobs.

Ever since Jackson had met you with the rest of the boys at the coffee shop you worked part time in a year ago, he had quietly fallen in love with you; your kind heart and compassionate soul causing the most powerful rift in the deepest parts of his heart. The only problem was, you were already spoken for. However, this didn’t stop him from being friends with you. He knew to never overstep his boundaries out of respect for your relationship with Hyeonwoo. But, seeing the cracks form in that said relationship due to Hyeonwoo’s jealousy early on, he began to wonder what the extent of that jealousy was doing to your mental health. What exactly went down this evening to cause you to crumble like this? You were a gentle spirit, but one with a backbone of steal. He was afraid that the fire he loved so much about you was all but dying out. He dreaded to think of what Hyeonwoo had done to you as he pulled you in tighter.

You all arrived back at the dorm. Jinyoung had already prepared a hot cup of tea for you, while Yugyeom, BamBam and Youngjae made up the spare bed as instructed by Jackson when he rushed out of the house to collect you. You sat down on the couch, all 7 pairs of eyes full of concern as you slowly began to tell them what happened.

“We had another fight…and I guess I lost my temper. He went through my phone and saw our group chat and he flew off the handle. Words that can never be taken back were said by both of us He called me a slut, a cheat…but the thing that angered me the most was what he had to say about all of you…” you hummed into the steam rising from the tea, warming your fingers around the cup.

“I shouldn’t have made him angry by acting out, I-“

“Don’t you dare blame this on yourself (Y/N). He’s a grown man and you don’t have to take responsibility for his lack of self control” Jaebum cut you off, his face contorted in disgust at you trying to justify Hyeonwoo’s behaviour.

“Exactly. None of this is your fault. He didn’t…hurt you…did he?” Yugyeom asked, a hint of fear in his voice.

You shook your head. “He’s never laid a finger on me, but tonight he threw his plate of dinner that I made for him at the wall. That’s when I ran out…because I was scared…” you began to tear up again at the memory of his red face, his voice bellowing at you as the plate hit the wall and smashed into pieces.

Jackson sat with his arm around you, his free hand gently tucking the stray pieces of fallen hair behind your ear as he thought about how much pain this was causing you to feel. “How dare he…how fucking dare he.” He seethed, steam almost rising from his head. You looked up slowly, catching his gaze upon you, taking in his dark eyes that never once wavered from yours. He licked his lips, trying to find the right words to comfort you as the rest of the group quietly chatted amongst themselves about the situation

Just then, loud banging at the front door. Immediately, all 7 boys jumped to their feet, looking cautiously around at each other and you. They moved like a pack of wolves, guarding you as precious treasure from danger.

“(Y/N)! I know you’re in there. I just want to talk baby, I’m sorry….please. Please let me in. I just want to talk to you.” You heard Hyeonwoo’s cries from the other side of the door. The boys all looked back at you, studying your expression of panic and confusion. You wanted to hear what Hyeonwoo had to say, but at the same time you knew that he was skilled in the art of manipulation. You stood up quietly before turning to Jackson.

“I want to hear what he has to say before I make my final decision.” you said, bravely.

Jackson sighed. “How many chances are you going to give him, (Y/N)?” he exhaled, cupping your face with his hand, his eyebrows raised and furrowing together.

“We’ll let him in if you want (Y/N), but I don’t know what good it will do” Youngjae said quietly.

“We’ll give you some privacy - but we’ll be in the kitchen, listening. “Jinyoung added.

You nodded, feeling more confident at the fact you had them there to help you if things turned ugly.

You walked towards the door and opened it to reveal a very distraught Hyeonwoo. You motioned for him to come in, as the rest of the boys departed for the kitchen, leaving the door ajar.

Hyeonwoo pulled you into his embrace, but you didn’t return his affection. You just stayed still, letting your body grow limp in his grasp. You thought you would fall weak at the knees at his sullen expression, but it wasn’t pity you were feeling for Hyeonwoo, it was just disappointment and anger.

Sensing your disinterest, Hyeonwoo pulled away, clicking his tongue and sighing. “How did I know you would run off back to your other boyfriends?” his voice dripping with envy as his eyes shot into yours.

You breathed a defeated sigh. “Hyeonwoo…I’ve told you once, and I’ve told you a thousand times. They are NOT my boyfriends. Why don’t you just trust me?” you pleaded.

“Because you’re MINE. I own you, and you’re coming back with me right now so we can talk about this without all of them listening in”. You tried to move away, but you weren’t quick enough.

Hyeonwoo grabbed a fistful of your hair, practically dragging you towards the door. You let out a silent cry in pain, struggling with him and digging your heels into the carpet as you felt your hair being pulled from your scalp.

“Stop struggling!” he shouted a little too loud, before all 7 boys burst through the door, but not before Hyeonwoo’s hand collided with your cheek, smacking you so hard that it caused you to face plant the ground.

“You fucking bastard!” Jackson screamed as he ran over to knock seven bells out of Hyeonwoo. Yugyeom and BamBam stood still like deer caught in headlights while Youngjae and Jinyoung ran over to you on the ground still cradling your face which was red raw from the impact just seconds ago. Jaebum and Mark stood back, letting Jackson pull Hyeonwoo by his shirt, shoving him against the wall closing the space between them. Jackson was easily 2 times the size of Hyeonwoo, and there was no doubt in the other boys minds that if they left Jackson to his own devices, he could just as easily have killed him.

“You’re a fucking coward. Does it feel good, hitting a woman you’re supposed to love?!” Jacksons fist collided with Hyeonwoo’s face, his ring catching on his lip producing a steady flow of blood.

“Jackson! Stop! He’s not worth it” Mark shouted, trying to calm Jackson down as Jaebum placed his hands on Jacksons shoulders.

Jacksons chest heaved as he shot daggers into Hyeonwoo’s eyes filled with a pitiful expression.

“If I EVER see you near her again, I’ll break your fucking legs. You got that?” he eventually loosened his grip on him. Hyeonwoo looked at you on the ground, taking in your frightened expression. He had never raised his hand to you before, but this was the last straw for you.

“We’ll be around tomorrow to pick up her things. Make sure you’re out of the house between 3 and 5pm while we sort everything out – I don’t wanna see you there or else things might end badly. Do you understand me?” Jaebum sneered into Hyeonwoo’s face.

No one’s eyes left Hyeonwoo as he slowly started to walk towards the door.

“(Y/N)…please don’t let it end like this…” he begged you, tears forming in his eyes, trying to stay just a moment longer to sway your mind.

With the help of Youngjae and Jinyoung, you got up and took a deep breath.

“I don’t ever want to see you again Hyeonwoo. I’ve put up with this for too long, and I don’t deserve it. You can expect to hear from a solicitor in a few days…goodbye.” you said, before quietly walking into the spare bedroom, out of sight.

“You heard her, what are you still doing here? Leave before I smash your stupid face in, I swear to god…” Jackson muttered as Hyeonwoo finally took the hint and walked out of the dorm for good.

Jackson stood for a second longer, letting the built up adrenaline and hormones in his system die down, before running after you into the spare room. Jaebum quietly told everyone to tidy up and to leave you two to talk. It was no secret to the boys that Jackson had always had a weak spot in his heart for you, and this was incredibly difficult for him to go through. You both needed time alone together, time that they were more than happy to give to you both.

Jackson entered the room and saw you with your back against the wall, lifeless and emotionless as you took in the events of the night. He joined you on the bed, his weight shifting beneath it as he gently pulled you between his legs. You began sniffling again. How did it get so bad? Why did you let it go on for so long knowing that it would probably have always ended up like this?

“Shhh, don’t. Come on, I’m here now okay? You’re safe. I will always protect you, you hear me?” he reassured you while lifting your chin up close to his face. You remembered Jacksons reaction towards Hyeonwoo as he defended you. You had always felt…something for Jackson, but you never truly realised it until you saw him fight for you.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there to save you.” He let out a soft whimper as he placed his forehead against yours, his hand softly kneading the back of your head. You opened your eyes to meet his, his lips inches away from yours.

“But you did save me, Jackson. You’re saving me right now” you whispered, looking deep into his eyes.

“He won’t get away with this, I promise you. And I will never leave your side. I…I love you so much and the thought of him laying his fucking hands on you…it makes me want to kill him” his voice filled with emotion.

You had never been more attracted to someone in your entire life as you were now with Jackson. You felt safe, loved and protected. You knew that it would take you a bit to collect yourself before you could fully commit to him, but you also knew that you had feelings for him. And you knew that if there was anyone in the world that could understand that, it was Jackson Wang.

“Let’s not go as far as to say we’ll kill him. I can’t tell you that I love you every day if you’re in prison, can I?” you smiled, making him smile in turn. This was the thing he adored most about you. Even in the shittiest situation imaginable, you always saw the bright or funny side to things.

As you lay there, wrapped in each other’s arms and long after you fell asleep, Jackson thought about your earlier comment to him.

“You’re saving me right now…”

He silently chuckled, looking at your peaceful face finally being able to sleep away the troubles of the evening before doing it all again tomorrow.

“You’ve been saving me every day since we met. Now it’s my turn to do the same for you.” He thought before closing his eyes, pulling you closer, and finally falling asleep

[stark-park]

Once Upon a Child (6/9)

Chapter: 6 - Hear, Far, Wherever You Are

Other Chapters: 1  2  3  4  5  7  8  9

Summary: With their daughter enjoying her happy beginning and their infant son still young, Snowing decide they need a hobby, or at least, a way to help Storybrooke in the ways they used to with their kingdom in the Enchanted Forest. Therefore they decide to help those most unfortunate: the orphaned and lost children at Misthaven Home for Children. But when one child is unlike the others, their hearts and their home go out to him in the hopes they can help.

Rating: PG, there's nothing too horrifying, mostly fluff

Disclaimer: Based on ABC's Once Upon A Time and I do not own any of their characters, plots or locations. I am but a loyal fan, loving of the show and simply borrowing the beautiful characters.

Ellion woke in a different place to where he remembered falling asleep. After rubbing the sleep away, he left the bedroom in search of the sweet, yet unfamiliar, smell wafting from downstairs. Tentatively, he stepped into the kitchen. David was hovering over the stove; mixing, cooking, mixing, and cooking again. The dozen stacks of pancakes behind him evident of his morning productivity. Not only were there multitudes of the breakfast food, there was also a ton of variations; blueberry, chocolate chip, lemon, sugared, plain, the list continued.

"Good morning!" Snow greeted, entering the kitchen from the living room with a drooling toddler at her hip. She placed Neal in his highchair then gestured for Ellion to take a seat at the table. A quizzical expression took hold of her face as she noticed the hoard of pancakes.

"Um, Honey," She said, "We've discussed this before, we're not Romanian powerlifters."

Unblinking, David replied, "I didn't know if there'd be enough."

"David, there's enough to feed the whole of Storybrooke. Sit down and eat some."

Breakfast went down well with Ellion trying each pancake and the two adults fussing over what sauce was best to accompany each. Neal was happier to use his as a canvas for finger painting than actually eating anything. Mellow tunes played from the radio and at no point did Ellion stop glowing.

After breakfast and a quick clean up, it was back to the hospital. Though Doctor Whale had expressed uncertainty as to the success of the hearing aids, Snow and Charming were quietly hopeful.

The aids were fitted. The little boy, his glow vanished over the unknown, looked up at the adults, neither understanding what it was he should do, or what was about to happen.

He turned curiously to the man with oddly coloured hair; white blonde but, it didn't quite seem natural. Ellion was unsure as to whether this man could truly be trusted. He was also weary of the fact that the last few minutes had revolved around his ears being prodded by said man. There came a bizarre tickling as something made itself at home.

Utterly confused, Ellion looked to Snow and David for comfort; for a sign of approval. His frown made Snow's optimistic smile descend into apprehension. David on the other hand, encouraged his wife, telepathically of course, in the way only this couple could attain. Dr Whale also gave Snow a prompting hand gesture.

Wondering what on Earth she might say to a boy who was to hear, presumably, his first words; Snow mentally prepared herself for, in her eyes, this monumental occasion. Her mind went back to the discussion that morning.

*****

"This is a major thing David!" Snow protested, letting the volume of her voice rise as much as she dare, keeping in mind the boys sleeping in the nearby bedrooms. The couple lay in bed, their backs against the headboard, contemplating the day.

"I know Honey, but I think you're putting too much pressure on yourself-"

"Pressure? David, this is the first word he's going to hear! What if I say it wrong? What if I croak? What if I don't say it loud enough? What if-"

"There are a lot of 'what ifs' Snow." He cut in, rubbing his thumb along her hand, making sure not to press too hard and risk spilling her tea. "Worrying is only making you suffer more than needed, calm down and let's talk it through."

Snow hated her husband sometimes, in a loving way of course. How could he be so calm? How could he think so rationally when there was a little boy in the other room who was going to have a totally new experience that day?

"David-"

"Snow." David said, stopping her before she could start fretting once more, "I know you want his first words to be profound, or poetic, but we have to think about what he needs: he has to be able to understand us. That means we need something-"

"-simple." Snow finished, nodding in agreement. She was beginning to come to terms with his rationale yet, there was still something niggling on her subconscious, something pulling at her nerves. Hoping it would null a few of her qualms, Snow took a sip of her steadily chilling tea.

"All I'm trying to say," David offered, "Is that Joe will remember the experience, the feeling, of hearing for the first time; he probably won't worry about what word it is."

*****

Snow sat frozen, the events of the morning's discussion scrolling through her mind, until a warm hand clutched her own, squeezing calmness into her thumping heart. David gave her a reassuring nod and all the worries of the moment washed away.

In the softest tone she could utter, Snow let out the simplest of words, "Hello."

*****

It had been a few days since the appointment; Snow and David were growing more and more anxious over the success of the hearing aids. However, the tables had turned with David being the one frantically worrying over what it was they should do, and Snow being the one with the reasonable explanations.

Once again, they found themselves in a discussion over their morning tea, sitting in bed before the the boys woke up. As permitted by the Blue fairy, Ellion was staying with the Charmings for as long as he needed to adjust. The children's home, Dr Whale had said, was much too noisy for someone with newly acquired hearing (if the aids were successful that is).

"What if they didn't work?" David questioned, before knocking back some of his tea, only for his head to recoil in mild pain at the heat.

"I'm sure he's still adjusting to them." Snow reasoned.

"He hasn't spoken a word in four days! The damage was clearly too much. We're gonna just have to learn sign language. Do you think we can teach him sign language? Do you think he'll even understand? Maybe-"

"David." Snow urged, "Joe is Ancient Greek - or at least - he writes in it. It's understandable if he's taking a little while to grasp English."

"Okay, okay, but I think we should still get him tested, just to check if he can actually talk." David admitted, conjuring up a fallback plan. He couldn't imagine what Ellion had been through, but he couldn't justify the idea of hearing and not at least trying to communicate.

"Alright," Snow concurred, hoping it would put her husband's mind at ease, "We'll book another appointment with Whale, but, we give him a few more days."

David considered the proposal: "How many days are a few? Two?"

"We can go with two." She confirmed. David's shoulders rested slightly as he breathed out.

A small wail sounded through the baby monitor as an impatient infant waited to escape his crib. A knocking began as Neal banged his bottle against the wooden bars. Snow and David heaved themselves from underneath the toasty blankets, with him getting ready for another morning tending the farm, and her heading to the nursery to tend to their son.

*****

When breakfast came, David's thoughts and nerves regarding Ellion's hearing were set aside, his focus on speaking loud and clear, just in case the boy was still learning. On this morning, Snow had set out a range of breakfast foods; eggs, bacon, baked beans, toast and crumpets, each with their own multiplying entourage.

"Could you pass the butter, please?" David announced, emphasising the key words.

"Yes." Snow replied, handing him the plate of butter, "Please could you pass me the sugar?" Along with emphasising the key words in their sentences, Snow had apparently also made different sentence structures an importance too.

"BEANS!" Neal howled cheerfully, his orange fingers and face displaying his love for the messy food.

"Please." Snow said, holding the bowl in front of him.

"Peas." Neal repeated the best he could. Manners and politeness went a long way, Snow always said.

Cat Stevens' Don't Be Shy played in the background as the beans were spooned into Neal's panda-shaped bowl. He giggled at the sight of his favourite food as Ellion decided on his choice of breakfast. An empty plate stared up at him whilst his stomach grumbled aggressively.

"Please can you pass the scrambled eggs and bacon?" Ellion asked. Emphasising the important words just as he had heard the adults say. David looked up from his plate, the blob of butter falling off his knife as he gawked at the child.

"Snow." He said finally.

"I heard." She replied, accepting the fact much quicker than her husband. She grinned and passed him the eggs, holding back tears of joy.

"He-here you go." David added, placing way too many rashers of bacon onto Ellion's plate as a result of sheer ecstasy.

"Ta." Ellion thanked, clearly having picked up on the couple's insistence of the word to Neal.

Snow pressed her hand to her chest in delight, managing to subtly wipe a stray tear away in the process.

His first words. Ellion had spoken his first words in front of them. All the worrying they'd done had been for nothing: Ellion's aids were working and his voice was undamaged. Snow and David couldn't have been happier if they tried.

*****

Though they didn't want to, Snow and David let Ellion return to Misthaven. That didn't stop Snow signing on to teach Ellion one to one however, amongst her usual classes, she scheduled time in which to practise English with him.

Ellion's learning progressed rapidly and Snow discovered the reason why he had waited so long to speak. It wasn't that he couldn't hear, it's that he wanted to perfect his pronunciation and understanding of the words.

It came to the session where Snow was helping Ellion with his understanding of nouns and pronouns. It was unusual for him to ask questions so when the time came, Snow was a little baffled.

"A noun, is the name of something. My name is Snow. This," Snow tapped her biro, "Is called a pen. These words are what we call things so we know what they are."

"Is Joe a noun?" Ellion asked, his face creased in confusion.

"Yes!" Snow beamed, thrilled by his understanding. "Yes, Joe is a noun."

"It is my name?" He continued. It made Snow pause; she suddenly remembered that it was short for 'John Doe' and in fact nobody knew his real name. How it had taken this long to realise Snow would kick herself, yet here she was, in the unique position to ascertain his real name.

"Well," She began, hesitating as she pieced a plan together on the spot, "It isn't your real name. We call you Joe because we don't know what your name is."

The boy considered the information he was given, the phrase 'real name' took him a moment.

"Real name?"

"Yes. Um, how do I explain this?" Snow asked herself, hoping an idea would come quickly.

Before she spoke, there came: "El-lee-on."

"Ellion?" Snow repeated, "Is that your name?" She smiled encouragingly. He nodded, sure he was correct in his understanding. Ellion was, after all, what he was referred to by his mother: Vega.

"Ellion. That's a lovely name."

*****

The weeks flew. By this point, Ellion was engaging in regularly scheduled visits to the Charming farmhouse for extra lessons with Snow, and a handful of fun sword-fighting lessons from David (after homework was completed of course). Though sword-fighting would no longer be needed in Storybrooke, it was a skill David found enjoyable to pass on.

One day, Snow visited her husband at the station. He was covering one of Emma's shifts, filing documents and paperwork as she walked through the door.

"HE DID IT!" Snow bragged, overjoyed and holding celebratory donuts.

"He did? That's great!" David whooped.

"Did what?" Killian asked, spinning in his desk chair, "Who did what?"

"Ellion! He's passed the last few tests I gave him, and guess what!" Snow couldn't contain her excitement.

"I couldn't possibly imagine." Killian quipped, his shoulders shrugging.

"He has moved up three whole boundaries in his English language and is now reading at the same level, if not better, than the rest of his class!" She squealed.

"Yes!" David yelled, the pride in his voice clear, as he pulled his wife into an embrace.

"If this doesn't make him Star of the Week, I don't know what will." Killian added, the pride over his pun transcending his usual smirk.

"David," Snow whispered, peeling herself from his joyful grasp, "I think we're too attached."

She noticed her husbands eyebrows raise and quickly added, "To Ellion." Like Killian, David was a sucker for a 'dad-joke'.

He dragged Snow back into his arms, whispering to her: "I think you're right."

Other Chapters: 1  2  3  4  5  7  8  9

[shinneth]

Gem Ascension Tropes (Peridot-specific: F - G)

Reference:

Primary Peri Post ▼ Primary General Post ▼ Full Article

Face Death with Dignity: Peridot refuses to let Garnet and Steven see her upset with her situation, so she forces herself to smile and laugh at them in hopes of making this (presumed) final goodbye easier for them. After they’re gone, Peridot’s tries to take her fate in stride as she grades her own performance before White Diamond finally captures her. Peridot’s reaction?

Peridot: “Oh. You’re here. Took you long enough.”

Face: Simultaneously the Underdog and The Anti-Hero types.

Falling into His Arms: This almost happened in the climax of Act I, but Peridot’s clumsy nature not only ruined this moment, but also any chance of her escaping Homeworld with her friends… let alone Steven catching her. When a fragmented part of Peridot’s personality is liberated by Steven later in Act III, she excitedly runs to him, trips, and this time the trope is played straight. It happens again in This is Who I Am Chapter 4; this time Peridot actually reflects on how wonderful it feels to be able to do this, after the catastrophic way her first attempt failed (to such a degree that Peridot thought she’d never be able to experience this at the time; initially resigned to believe Steven would never come back for her).

Fighting from the Inside: Attempted with Celadon Diamond. When Celadon intends to blow up the Crystal Gems’ spaceship (with allies still inside), Peridot tries her hardest to make Celadon resist, especially since it’s her power that’s going to be used to kill her friends. Ultimately, Peridot succeeds in breaking out, but that only happens when she realizes Pumpkin is mortally wounded.

Fire-Forged Friends: With Lapis.

First Kiss: Experiences this with Steven in Chapter 5 of Act I.

Fist of Rage: Peridot has moments like these throughout the primary GA series, as well as the stories outside it – the narrative will be sure to point out when she’s doing it, as it’s a red flag that Peridot is actively struggling to maintain her self-control despite her powerful emotions threatening to overtake her.

Following in Her Rescuer’s Footsteps: This trope was already somewhat in effect in canon, as Peridot is very dedicated to becoming a full-time Crystal Gem. It’s taken to another level in GA when Peridot realizes the rescuers who helped her get this far need saving. Due to the high stakes of the mission she has to embark on to rescue them, Peridot actually takes her position as The Leader seriously. Instead of trying to be just like Garnet as she did during her brief stint with the Crystal Temps, Peridot is concentrating on leading in her own way while following Garnet’s example more loosely. This surprisingly leads to a permanent promotion for Peridot in the post-GA story Plans Change.

Foolish Sibling, Responsible Sibling: The foolish sibling to 5XF’s responsible one. Played straight for the first half of This is Who I Am; then gets Zig-Zagged after 5XF’s Face-Heel Turn, which puts Peridot in a scenario where she pretty much has to be responsible and mature just so she and Steven can make it out of their situation alive. 5XF, by contrast, is corrupted with power and mentally unstable, making her the foolish one. By Chapter 7, the sisters are roughly back in their original roles. 5XF’s Character Development has made her much less rigid, but at her core, she remains to be much more mature and sensible than Peridot. Of course, Peridot actually has good reasons to act like a foolish brat by this point…

Foreseeing My Death: From the start, Peridot had a strong feeling she specifically wouldn’t come out of this rescue mission alive. She was so certain of this that she made Video Wills to each of her friends during her downtime periods in building the spaceship on Earth and in the ship’s isolation chamber en route to Homeworld.

Forgot About Her Powers: Happens in Chapter 2 of This is Who I Am, when Peridot and 5XF are facing an alligator – a dangerous creature neither know anything about – but Peridot could easily deal with it in so many ways given the nature of her power. A bit justified, as Steven lampshades and later discusses this trope to 5XF, explaining Peridot hasn’t had her new powers for long (this story takes place less than a week after GA’s third act), and getting startled, scared, or otherwise mentally frazzled will make Peridot slip into this trope. Basically, Peridot’s still getting used to them, and Peridot herself mentions beforehand that she’s afraid to try anything on the gator directly, as she knows she’ll never hear the end of it from Steven should she accidentally kill it.

Forgot About the Mind Reader: The Feeling Reader, more accurately. Near the start of Plans Change when a clearly not-fine Peridot is trying desperately to convince Steven she is fine, Steven reminds her that as a result of his powers evolving since the main series, he can read unspoken feelings. No matter what Peridot says, Steven will always be able to figure out what’s really in her heart. Needless to say, Peridot’s a bit miffed that her usual boasts and bluffs won’t work on her boyfriend anymore.

Four-Philosophy Ensemble 

The Optimist: A Determinator like her has to be this. Even though her philosophy clashes terribly with this role, Peridot’s Character Development has at times caused her to favor sentiment over logic. She’s still prone to recklessness, and she tries her hardest to keep an optimistic outlook on her mission, even when she’s internally tormented with fear and anticipating worst-case scenarios. And as The Atoner, Peridot does go out of her way to do the right thing so long as doing so won’t jeopardize her friends’ lives.

Four-Temperament Ensemble: Peridot represents the Choleric of her division. Since there’s heavy emphasis on her becoming a legitimate Hero Protagonist, she shares the following traits: total workaholic, very strong-willed, task-oriented, taking the lead, practical, hot-headed, rebellious nature, rude with very questionable social skills overall, condescending as an insufferable genius would be, vindictive immaturity, a bit obsessive with achieving her goals, and overall being very tsundere.

Friendless Background: By choice; Fear was the motive here, as while Peridot literally couldn’t comprehend what a friend was when she lived on Homeworld, she knew her fellow gems who sought this kind of bond were easy to manipulate to further her own agenda. Most Peridots rightfully steered clear of 5XG because she was a notorious manipulative sociopath, but on plenty of occasions, some would come along who didn’t know any better and tried to reach out to Peridot, and she would never hesitate to play along until she no longer had a use for them; more often than not, that would result in the unsuspecting gem’s demise.

Fright Deathtrap: Very narrowly averts putting White Diamond through a scared stiff variation to lethal levels. Peridot halts her Backstab Backfire attack when it’s mere inches away from White’s face. White, who was bracing herself for shattering, opens her eyes to see this and is shown destabilizing out of sheer shock. Peridot realizes in this moment it’s much more satisfactory to potentially scare White to death than to shatter her the old-fashioned way, but out of respect to Steven, she doesn’t take it any further than this.

From Nobody to Nightmare: A simple way to describe Peridot’s backstory before she was assigned to Earth. Peridot was never given special treatment, but earning respect for being resistant to pain shortly after she emerged became a gateway for Peridot to make herself stand out from her kin in good ways, but mostly very bad ways, as she was a consummate Manipulative Bastard. Many relatively innocent Peridots lost their lives because of her ambition to keep rising up the ranks. All of this was long before Peridot learned she was an Unwitting Test Subject. And while Peridot herself was an entirely different gem by that point, the very nature of her powers and Peridot’s own mental instability came close to killing herself and all of her friends during the climax of Act III. Of course, White Diamond can be thanked for orchestrating all of that.

Gadgeteer Genius: Per canon. She mostly displays this in Chapter 3 of Act I when she loads Greg with all sorts of devices to serve as a means of defending himself and their ship.Get a Hold of Yourself, Man!: Gives Steven this kind of speech in Chapter 6 of Act I after Steven, instead of escaping White Diamond, is standing out in the open blubbering because Bismuth had to execute White Pearl for their own safety. While Peridot tries to be gentle with Steven (even starting it with a Motivational/“Shut Up” Kiss), she doesn’t hesitate to be brutally honest with him, even if Steven is her Love Interest.

Get It Over With: Once White Diamond reaches Peridot at the end of Act I, well after the rest of the Crystal Gems have fled Homeworld, Peridot greets her with a smartass remark that is basically an attempt to bait White into doing this. However, no more of their interaction is shown after this moment. By the end of Act II, all that is known is that Peridot is with White Diamond six days after that moment, albeit in her base gemstone form, meaning she likely poofed shortly after said baiting. It isn’t until Act III begins when it’s revealed why exactly White has gone out of her way to keep Peridot alive this long.

The Glomp: The moment Peridot finally sees Steven alive and well, her first reaction is an extreme version of this. She basically tackles him off Lion to hug and cry over him in sheer relief, all the while berating Steven for his gullibility with very weak punches to his shoulder. Peridot somehow does this despite three of her four limbs being borderline crippled.

Glory Seeker: Per canon, but downplayed in GA. While Peridot wants her peers to recognize how awesome she can be in an authoritative position and is filled with glee when she imagines Garnet, Pearl, and Amethyst’s reactions to who organized the rescue mission to save their lives, it doesn’t prevent Peridot from staying focused on her objective. She does go out of her way to conceal her insecurities, however, as Peridot desperately does not want her teammates to be under the impression that she’s even slightly vulnerable, but is in fact as almighty as she makes herself out to be. By Act III, this trope becomes a non-factor.

Go on Without Me: Steven’s first reaction after Peridot’s Twisted Ankle moment is to attempt to bash the door down, but it’s too sturdy. There isn’t enough time for him or Garnet to make it through to Peridot, and Peridot herself is fatigued, concussed, and not equipped to hack her way to freedom. She can’t verbally communicate with them through the door, but she does gesture to their exit route, smiling and laughing to deter either of them from wasting any more time saving her before they’re all caught by White Diamond.

Go Out with a Smile: She not only offers this to Steven and Garnet at the end of Act I, but also laughs at them both with nary a tear to be seen.

Goggles Do Nothing: Downplayed and subverted. Peridot’s visor served no obvious functional purpose, though it ultimately protected her gemstone from sustaining damage when Peridot’s Twisted Ankle moment sends her head crashing roughly into a metal-plated gate. At the end of Act II, it’s noted in the narrative that they doubled as Night-Vision Goggles. Thematically, the visor did serve a purpose in keeping Peridot’s Mismatched Eyes hidden from everyone (even herself) for her entire life until it was shattered.

Good is Not Nice: This is Insufferable Genius Peridot we’re talking about. She definitely crosses the line more often than her teammates care for. Then there’s her past life as a Manipulative Bastard…

[tell--your--world]

Building (a) Character

I created my first character when I was eleven. He was a neurotic, red-shelled turtle monster (a Koopa Troopa to those familiar with the Mario games), and his name was Rookooth. Being “cannon fodder”, he had a fatalistic outlook on life, responding to perceived threats by either asking to be killed quickly or fainting.

That's literally all there was to the character. He had no depth and served no real purpose. Every fiction writer has to start somewhere, though, and I'm glad to say that as I grew older and started thinking about my favorite characters more deeply, my creations grew deeper as well.

In general, characters can be divided into two groups; major and background. Major characters are your core group, whose exploits are the story's focus, and a supporting cast of friends, rivals and others who interact often with the core group. Background characters exist to make the world richer, and range from the nameless bartender who is only seen once to familiar faces who put in small, frequent appearances. It's normal for writers to put more effort into their main cast, but don't make the mistake of ignoring the rest of the world. You might not think they matter as much, but trust me, your readers will know if you don't put the effort in.

So how do you build a character? Sometimes you don't have to. You might need a teacher and be able to picture her immediately, right down to her mannerisms and style of dress. But other times you'll struggle just to decide on the gender of your lead’s best friend, and that can be frustrating. Ultimately the only way to develop a character is to write them, but here’s a simple method to get started.

The first question is, what role does the character play? Are they the star of the show, or the antagonist? Are they a relative of one of your main cast or are they a reporter who only appears once to harass the police about a crime? Once you know why they're in the story, imagine them with a stereotypical portrayal. That's the template you're going to build from. Background characters don't need much else to start, so we'll come back to them later. For now, think about your main cast and try to sum them up with one phrase: the smart friend, the rival, the love interest, the outcast. You won't have a comprehensive list of every main character when you first start writing, so only label the ones you know you need or can already picture. When you're done, you can start developing them.

The most important thing to know about each major character is what they want and why. Let's bring back our ghostly protagonist from the last post as an example: he wants to be left alone because he was bullied in life. This motivates him to drive off anyone who enters his home. Later, when he learns that the kid he scared is also being bullied, he decides to effectively haunt them because…? Does he want to protect the kid, or are the bullies just a stand-in for his own tormentors so he can finally have some revenge?

Don't limit yourself with moral concerns when you're figuring out what motivates your characters. It's perfectly all right to have a mean-spirited hero or a villain who isn't pure evil. But your protagonist, in particular, needs to be likable, so don't go overboard. No character should ever exist simply so you can do whatever you want without consequences.

Once you know what your cast wants, develop their backstories. If the smart one in an academic setting wants an A on every test because his parents expect it, you already have the outline of a childhood spent striving for perfection. Take a moment to build on that - does he always do what his parents want, or does he have a rebellious streak? Can you think of anything specific that happened to him growing up? - then look at his goal again and ask, does he really want that? Or does he have his own dream? Compare the goal and backstory, and make whatever changes come to mind until it feel right. Then ask yourself what the pros and cons of his upbringing are. Maybe he's a musician or artist on top of being academically smart, but at the cost of low self-esteem and no free time to spend with his friends. Maybe the stress of trying to be perfect has given him health issues.

This is a good time to warn you against the cringe-inducing perfection known in fanfic circles as a Mary-Sue (or Gary-Stu if male). On the most basic level this is a character who's literally too good to be true. If our previous example was a musician, artist, and genius who was also physically fit and the confident leader of his group of friends, we would have a perfect example of a Gary-Stu. Want to make him even worse? He's also handsome and can have any girl he wants, but is too gentlemanly to ever mistreat one. Would you want to read about this character?

Let's look at another example. Your main character is perfectly ordinary, and she makes sure to remind the readers of this fact often. Despite her painful normality she has the attention of some of the most desirable boys in school, but is also too nice to just pick one for fear of hurting the other(s). She's not perfect in the sense of her accomplishments, but the way she always gets exactly what she wants in the end makes her intolerable.

It's a common misperception that Mary-Sues can be avoided by giving the character a few flaws. But this rarely solves the true problem, which is the lack of realism. The key isn't to give them flaws, but consequences. If they spend all their time honing their mental skills, their social lives and physical abilities will suffer. If they're nothing special, they aren't likely to get together with the most popular guy in town unless they’ve already been friends for years. And no matter their social status or ability, please don't put a young character in a position of power unless they have a mentor or adviser making the real decisions. Your older cast isn't going to go for it, and in all likelihood, neither will your readers.

Another problem to avoid is the villain who's evil for the sake of being evil. Every enemy your protagonists face should have a reason for doing what they do, even if that reason is simply a need to eat. In fact, if you want a truly interesting villain, don't create him to be evil at all. It's true that some people will know that their actions are wrong and simply not care, but unless your antagonist is mentally ill, they should see themselves as the hero. They should be able to justify their actions as necessary to achieve their goals, or else have a belief system which makes their actions okay - if they grew up in a culture where slavery is normal and death is the sentence for certain crimes, their perception of moral behavior will be very different from that of someone who has never kept a slave and hates the idea of a death sentence.

You can also make villains more sympathetic this way. Perhaps the leader of a movement has a taboo against killing children because he can't justify it to himself, or a terrorist treats women with respect because he was raised to be a gentleman. Ask yourself how he behaves with those close to him - unless they have a reason to keep others at arm's length, most villains will have friends, family, or even subordinates whom they care about to some extent. Once you know who your villain is, all you need to do to make him the bad guy is show how other characters talk about or react to him. The stalker who equates possessive behavior with love will look much different from the outside.

Regardless of role, it's not necessary to show a given character’s history unless it has plot relevance. The backstories are primarily for your use, and can be as vague or detailed as you need them to be. In general, the protagonist should have the most developed past, followed by any character whose history impacts the present day. Background characters only need enough history to make the world interesting: if the shopkeeper who only makes one appearance hates the king, take a moment to figure out why. Others might feel the same way for similar reasons.

Once you know who the characters are and what they want, there's nothing left to do but to start writing them. Take a scene you know you'll need and see how those involved interact. Use their motivations and what you know of their upbringing to influence their behavior. It might feel awkward at first, but as you get the feel for their personalities, it'll be easier to decide how they should act in various situations. And again, don't neglect the background characters. The stereotype you assigned them earlier gives you something to work with while drafting a scene, but at some point you need to give them a bit of history or a visible quirk to make them feel real. Your readers will notice flat characters, so it's worth taking a few minutes to give them life. They - and the world you're creating - will thank you.

If you're curious about my fanworks or want a better idea of my abilities as a writer, you can find my fics on the following sites: just remember that older stories and chapters don't reflect my current writing style, and are slated for editing.

My AO3 account:

http://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkDecepticon

My fanfiction.net account:

https://www.fanfiction.net/u/4428055/

If you wish to support this blog on Patreon, you can do so here:

https://www.patreon.com/darkstarofchaos

[vesperlionheart]

Under the Rabbit’s Moon 5

[Part 1] [Part 2][Part 3][Part 4]

After the boys left, with promises they’d keep in touch and visit more than they had, Sakura slept deep and long. She had warned the women in the bath of what was to come, so they knew to keep her windows closed and her door shut. She would be dead to the world for the next day at least.

‘That’s the fun part about being part god, isn’t it? There’s such an amazing strain put on your body and your mind. Can you even mentally handle the idea of what you are now?’ her inner asked as they drifted through the void.

‘I’m nothing more and nothing less than the girl who ripped open a god’s shell and killed her.’

‘What beautiful words spoken to the cynic. Don’t bull shit me, I’m you, remember?’

‘It’s what I believe.’

Inner Sakura shook her head and shifted blurry and then clear. ‘Don’t believe in anything. Take what you see as truth and only what you see as truth. I don’t give credit to anything else. You’re changing still.’

Sakura looked down at her hands. In her dream she was naked and the eyes stared up at her, blinking and wide. They were a soft shade of lavender and looked pretty enough to get trapped in.

Yet they are still young and growing. Using them on Tobirama had felt like spiking her palms with rusty, iron splinters. Her hands still stung, even in dream. She needed to heal and she needed to grow stronger. She would make herself a body filled with immortality an invulnerability.

Why?

Because she could.

To what end?

Sakura had no answer, no reason to justify herself. Power had been a thing she wanted for her friends, to stand shoulder to shoulder with them. But her friends were dead. Her family had all died in that war. All their power couldn’t save them and now she had what they had only dreamed of, but it did her no good. Not even she could bring back the dead.

Sakura dreamed of the destruction and cried when the memories got stuck on a loop that repeated the worst parts over and over and over again for her to relive. She felt worn out, more used and exhausted then when she first crawled out of the crater she made in the final fight. Her body was being made stronger, but her mind was assaulted with horror after horror.

‘That’s the price of godhood.’

‘I didn’t want this.’

Sakura cries out into the void, knowing it will do her no good. She could think it and the ghost of the rabbit goddess would still hear her. Still, all the same, Sakura whispers the sentence once more.

‘I didn’t want any of this.’

‘And that’s why it came to you.’

Somewhere in the dream she felt her body settle, like a weight in the river she hit the bottom and stayed there, letting the mass of the world around her flow by, burying her deeper and deeper into the silt of a cosmic riverbed. She felt the pain of fighting, she felt the pain of exhaustion and saw nothing but terrible memories.

But somewhere in the mess of all that pain, she found six little,white lights to latch onto and hold to her chest. There wer others too, but these lights were just for her. She had her lights and that was what made all the difference in her trial of endurance.

She would endure this pain and madness, she would endure this godhood.

She would endure.

Sakura woke in the morning several days later, feeling sunlight on her face and something stiff next to her scalp. She reached up and felt a thin braid plaited into the side of her head down the entire length. Her hair had grown in the three and a half years since Sakura first came to the other world. It used to be cut to her shoulders, but now it was long enough to reach her waist. It grew so much when she was sleeping.

Sakura sat up and a handful of old flowers fell away, having lost their place in her nest of hair. She ran her fingers through the strands and felt more catch in her hand.

“Izuna.”

Sakura looked off to the side to see one of the nursing mothers push back the door to the room and change out a bucket of water that had been left on the night table. The older woman grinned and nodded to the flowers left on the floor.

“That boy comes almost every morning now to check in on you like he thought we were lying to him when we said you were fine and so much sleeping was normal. Poor kid, I’m sure he was looking forward to being here when you woke up.”

“This was all from Izuna?” Sakura asked, voice light and airy. She felt out of place, like she was still filling up her body.

“Not just him, but the other two boys from the Senju clan would come in and check too. Izuna would always leave once Kawarama and Itame showed up. He was polite about it, but he’s still not ready to be kind to the other boys.” The woman set the water containers aside and approached Sakura’s bedside. “How are you feeling today, Sakura san?”

“Distant, I don’t…know. I’m a bit groggy right now.”

‘Wrong-you feel wrong.’

“You’ve been sleeping nearly a week.”  

“That’s one of my longer sleeps,” Sakura hadn’t slept that long in a while. Usually if she went for an extended slumber it was three of four days, rarely more than five.

Sakura held up her hand and looked at the palm where a long slit rested in it’s closed position. She flexed her fingers and the eye didn’t shift until she willed it to. It came open with a snap that was immediate and dizzying. The other eye followed soon after and she felt them grow darker in color, from empty silver to a darker lavender.

Inhaling sharply Sakura closed both eyes and fell back into her covers, too groggy to get out of bed so soon. She felt for the braid at the side of her head and pet it back while listening to Miko work in the background.

“How is your child, Miko?” Sakura asked, not moving but turning her head.

Sakura offered a hand, palm up and the old woman paused in what she was doing to approach. Sakura poured warm green chakra into the woman’s swollen tummy and found the life force happy to respond.

“He’s so lively today,” Sakura quipped in surprise, not expecting the eager greeting.

“He’s been kicking a lot more.”

“That’s a good sign, he sounds healthy in there. You’re going to have a healthy young son in a couple of months, maybe less.”

“We would be so happy to have a son, but I wouldn’t be disappointed if it was a girl.”

Sakura chuckled, dropping her hand back to the bed. “Girl or boy, I could see the baby by feeling with my chakra and there’s a tiny penis in there. Take it as you will.” Sakura didn’t want to get into the details of gender and sexual identity in a period where most people didn’t believe in equal rights of the sexes, much less-

Sakura sat up coughing and something wet came up, staining the covers red as she hacked up the bloody mucus. Miko was rushing over with a cloth that Sakura pressed to her mouth. It grew red around her lips and she felt it turn heavy in her hand. She was hacking up the old parts of her, the parts she replaced.

‘It hurts to be a god.’

Sakura glared at the wall, pretending it was the voice in her head.

“Are you alright, Sakura san? You’re hacking up blood.” Miko sounded worried and was looking at the blood stains with wide eyes.

“No, it’s not a bad thing, it’s good that I got this out. It looks terrible but this is…this is what needed to happen. My body has healed.” Sakura waved her hand and coughed once more, this time without the blood. “This is old.”

“Then I’d best help clean you up. We’ll need to wash these sheets and I dare say your teeth look like they took to a bleeding pomegranate or two.” The older woman huffed in agitation and started to pull the sheets away.

Sakura wanted to stay in bed a bit longer, but she couldn’t watch the swelled woman work when her baby was only two months away, so Sakura rose to help. Together the pair pulled the sheets out and Sakura carried them to the stream that fed into the one where she had first met Izuna. This branch of it ran through her garden and was easier to wash at. Sakura took over once they arrived and set to scrubbing her sheets clean with the raw soap in the river. Her hands felt chapped by the time she was done and it was no longer early morning, but the sun was still climbing.

Sakura went back to change in her room and dress for work. On her bed there were discarded flowers she had left behind from whenever the boys dressed her hair. There were still a few flowers stuck in the strands, but most were on the bed or on the floor.

Sakura watched herself in the mirror, checking to see all her movement was in place, and her range wasn’t diminished from the attack. There wasn’t even a scar, but when she turned into the light just right, a patch of thin skin was shiner than the rest. It looked healthier than the rest of her skin, if she was being honest with herself.

There was something deep in her gut that made her frown though, and it wasn’t something she could see. She felt off, less groggy and more unbalanced with the rest of the word. Something was off.

The sun was peaking in the sky and Sakura could hear people in her garden preparing for lunch.

‘Funny, no one’s visited me today.’  Sakura pretended she wasn’t disappointed.

Outside, plenty of people were running around. Sakura frowned, catching the arm of an older sentry that worked alongside Aoi. “Chito, why are people so fluttery today?”

“You don’t think it’s just cause you woke up?” the older man laughed, scratching the back of his head.

Sakura smiled but crossed her arms over her chest and waited.

“Ah, sorry miss. The other sentries caught movement. It looks like the Senju clan and the Uchiha clan are finished with talks and they’re going to either engage or leave the valley.”

Sakura swallowed, feeling the throat dry. “When?”

Chito shrugged. “Maybe today, maybe tomorrow.”

“Do you know what the verdict is? What do the others think?” Peace or War?

“You can watch for yourself.” He pointed to where Aoi perched at the edge of the garden’s innermost illusions. “Or ask the man himself.”

Sakura thanked Chito and made her way over to where Aoi stood, listening to his birds and watching the images they fed straight into his brain. He seemed highly absorbed in what he was doing so she waited.

A moment later he blinked and looked away from the hedges to notice her waiting at his side. “You’re awake. The ladies were tittering about it so I should have expected as much. No child to spirit away today?”

“What did you see?” Sakura asked, tone strong enough to let him know she wasn’t in the mood to tease just yet. Her eyes were wide, searching for signs of war.

“Not today. They’re preparing though. I thought it was to pack up and move at first, but it’s the other kind of preparing they’re doing. Tomorrow morning, first light and you’ll be sure to see some bloodshed.”

Sakura thought it was funny how they weren't going to strike like a knife in the dark, the way ninja were famous for, before remembering the era. Maybe there would be a few attacks in the night, but the morning would bring the bloodshed into the light and make a show out of it. Armor never saw so much use as in the warring era.

“Are you going to get the children?”

Sakura looked up in surprise. “What?”

“Are you going to extract those kids? They’re all, even the little ones, going out tomorrow.”

If only she could.

Itame and Kawarama both died young. It was Izuna’s fate to die under the sword of Tobirama. That’s how history told it and didn’t she hear somewhere how dangerous it was to alter history? War was made out of killing. It was too much to have all of them survive when not even Naruto could make it.

‘But this isn’t your history and it’s not even your world. There’s nothing for you to alter.’

“Where is the disputed lands?” Sakura asked after a moment, shutting her eyes like it would help her brace for the answer. War will war rip open a wound on our ugly world.

“You’re going there?”

“I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Sakura sighed, shaking her head. She didn’t feel right about going in and making herself known to prevent things that had already happened in her own history. She didn’t feel right about the voice in her head or the eyes in her hand. She didn’t feel right about how close she had already grown with these kids after loosing her family. She didn’t feel right about most things.

Aoi nodded, looking past her shoulder and pointing. “Maybe hold off on that, you got a visitor.”

Sakura turned and saw little Kawarama at the edge, holding something in his arms and looking lost. He peered around and stiffened when he saw her, but then the smile took over her face and he started running towards her, loosing flowers from his arms as he went.

Sakura bent down and braced as he impacted with her, dropping all his flowers to hug her. Sakura held him so easily to her chest and though to herself how she’d miss it when he died. Her arms would be empty once more.

“Kawarama.” Sakura whispered his name into his hair.

“You’re awake! I knew the flowers would work. Itame said these were not sleeping flowers, so I thought they might help you wake up.” He pulled away and grinned. “I was right.”

“What are you wearing, Kawarama?” Sakura asked.

She pulled away even more and looked down at the armor. It was so small and fit too well. How did they even make armor that small? He was a child. He wasn’t even old enough to graduate from the academy.

“Don’t I look great? I’m going to help dad tomorrow. He’s finally letting me. Itame has some too, but he’s fought before, so mine is the shinier plate.” He pointed to the gleaming parts and beamed in pride. He was finally good enough to be useful to his father.

“You’re going to fight,” Sakura sighed, feeling dread bite her heart.

“Yeah!”

Sakura grabbed his hands and pressed them together between her own two hands. She kissed his folded fingers and screwed her eyes as she concentrated on the prayer. She prayed for his safety, she prayed he wouldn’t be noticed, she prayed he would be safe, she prayed he would live. He was one of her silver lights.

“Sakura chan?”

“I don’t want you to ever be hurt. I wish I could stop you, or protect you.” She looked up and managed a sad smile.

“You’re not a warrior, Sakura chan! You’re a fairy doctor, just like the healers in my clan except you’re not old with wrinkles or boring smelling.”

Sakura gasped a laugh at the last phrase. “How does someone become boring smelling?” she asked.

“You know, they smell like boring stuff. Dusty!”

“Kawarama,” Sakura chuckled, amazed by his childlike way of viewing the world. “I don’t want to let you go.”

“You have to, my dad needs me. My brothers need me, too!” He pulled away to reach down and pick up a new flower. “But I’ll come back when I’m done and you can talk to me then.”

“You have to!” Sakura felt her words trip and choke in her throat when she tried to tell him, ‘don’t die.’ It was such a strange thing to have to say to a boy only just turned seven years old. “I’ll be so lonely without you to visit me.”

“I’ll bring my brothers next time. Itame said he wanted to learn more about healing and I think even Hashirama-nii wanted to come. He got so angry with Tobi-nii after he heard what happened. They fight a lot but this time Tobi-nii was sorry.”

“I’m not angry about anything that happened. I want to see you and your brother soon, so come back safe.”

“Ah, but if I get a cut, will you heal it? I think I might get a little hurt even though I’ll be with Itame. He said I had to say with him in the corner.”

“Stay with him, then.”

Kawarama pouted cutely and then nodded.

“I wish you didn’t have to fight at all,” Sakura added.

“I have to help my family. I have to.”

‘Because that’s how the story goes.’

Sakura swallowed when she heard the voice in her head again. The words were almost a song, the way they echoed in pitch. It was getting harder to tell if it was inner Sakura or the mood goddess singing in her head.

Sakura stood up and offered the younger boy her hand. “Come on, I’ll walk you back home. You need to have a good dinner and a good sleep tonight. Don’t stay up and don’t wander.”

“All the way? Are you going to meet my dad?” Kawarama’s eyes seemed to go wide at the idea.

“Maybe, but not today. I don’t think it’s a good idea if he knew about me so soon. You remember there are some bad, not true, rumors about me he might have heard. I don’t want him to be scared like Tobirama was.”

Kawarama nodded, taking her hand and walking casually out of the garden along her side. “Yeah, that’s a good point. He’s a lot like Tobirama. Neither of them ever want to smile. They say it’s cause they miss mom, but they should just find a new person if they’re lonely, like how I found you.”

Sakura wanted to rip her heart out, it hurt too much. Like it or not, she had altered this world and was a part of it now. It might not be her history, but Sakura had a feeling in her gut she knew what tomorrow would bring. The world wasn’t meant for too much happiness.

The voice was back in her head, singing in an off key pitch too sickly to be sweet. ’Something’s got to go~that’s how the story goes, that’s how it’s told.’

[boisentertainment]

Dark Lane Demo Tapes HD Review

Cover Art To “Dark Lane Demo Tapes”

“I’m losing enough sleep

dealing with envy and the news that they send for me 

got the block in a frenzy”

–Deep Pockets

Drake starts off Dark Lane Demo Tapes doing what he does best, effortlessly floating on the intro “Deep Pockets“, another collaboration accompanied by producer Noah “40” Shebib. Self-reflecting and reminiscing on adolescent aspirations before the transition of becoming one of the greatest artists of all time.

Drake breaking the record for Most Wins in one night at the 2017 Billboard Music Awards

Drake has been navigating through uncharted territory flawlessly. Proving this point yet again with his release of “Toosie Slide”. Drake’s 3rd single to debut at #1 on the Billboard Hot 100 Chart making him the first male in history to achieve this milestone.

“500 mill and I’ll fall back in the six, 

finally give you n**** the space you need to exist”

-When To Say When

*Talk To em Drizzy* 

Drake follows up with two pre-released tracks, “When To Say When” & “Chicago Freestyle”. Jam packed with bars, a sample from “Song Cry” by Jay-Z (one of my all time favorite Hov songs) on “When To Say When”, and a nostalgic Eminem cadence reference on “Chicago Freestyle”.

You really love to see Drizzy remind everyone on “When To Say When” that his pen still outmatches all who oppose. Re-asserting his dominance as if it was ever in question. Subtle reminders like the bars above are what keep Drake and his competition completely separated. 

“Two-thirty, baby, won’t you meet me by The Bean?

Too early, maybe later you can show me things

You know what it is whenever I visit

Windy city, she blowin’ me kisses, no

Thirty degrees, way too cold, so hold me tight

Will I see you at the show tonight?”

Will I see you at the show tonight?”

-Chicago Freestyle

Giveon, a California native sings of the windy city as Drake gets ready to paint a picture of a night through his perception. From scrolling through his contacts of women’s names that are seemingly categorized by area code, to eventually just letting his boi Chubbs pick a girl out for him as if picking up women is as easy as shopping! Drake brilliantly segways into a memory that you forgot you had by referencing a cadence used in Eminem’s “Superman” released in 2002.

Eminem and Drake. Picture: Instagram

Don’t be fooled by the feature credit of Chris Brown….we didn’t get another “No Guidance” summer anthem….

Just a few background vocals from the R&B legend were enough to get his name on the project tracklist. Meanwhile Burna Boy is still waiting for his credits since More Life but that’s a conversation for another day. “Not You Too” Featuring Chris Brown is the first song on the project that I really don’t care for. It’s disappointing when you see a Drake and Chris Brown collaboration and it doesn’t slap..

What A Time To Be Alive is in my Top 3 favorite duo albums of all time. Whenever I see a Drake and Future collab I automatically get excited. Previously leaked, “Desires” is everything you want in a slower more laid back vibe from these two. The hook is addicting. Future’s verse is versatile with flows. His energy matches perfectly and his lyrics have SUBSTANCE. Listen to it carefully.

Photo From Future Featuring Drake “Life Is Good”

Drake has this ability to be able to sing 90% of the song, take the other 10%, completely spazz, and musically still have it make sense. These are the moments in songs like “Desires” and “Redemption” that turn slow R&B type vibe songs into a completely different entity within itself. Now all of a sudden you’re turning up and talking your sh*t instead of staring at the ceiling crying yourself to sleep. 

When I hear “Time Flies” I automatically think of Tik Tok. I don’t know why but if it blows up on Tik Tok you heard it here first! Honestly for me this, is another skip it and forget it type of song, I really hope it doesn’t go viral.

The first forty-five seconds is the only part of the song that kept my attention. Otherwise the rest is forgettable or just too similar to music that he’s already done thus not really elevating his ability here. During a full listen to the song I’m 100% paying attention during the first forty-five seconds. After that my attention doesn’t come back until he starts saying “Im Sorry”.

Don’t worry Drizzy I forgive you. 

“If he talkin’ out his head, then it’s off with it, yeah

Boardin’ Air Drake, then we takin’ off in it, yeah”

-Landed

Luckily, “Time Flies” is followed by a HEATER. Three hooks and three verses of aggressive, yet relaxed, reckless bars knowing there isn’t a consequence for you when you’re at the top. “Landed” is a slick talk, mean face, making breakfast with the speaker on 10 with the neighbors calling the cops while you’re trying to get hype for the day joint.

I wanna stop writing this review, get in my car, windows down, put this song on max volume and mean mug old people walking their dog in the suburbs for the rest of the day.

At first listen I was super excited about “D4L”. The production from Southside is out of this world. I do feel like it’s lacking a certain element. It’s easy to fall in love with a song featuring Drake, Future, and Young Thug, with this type of production. To me it just doesn’t sound organic. It sounds like it was thrown together rather than collectively created.

Honestly, I wish Drake and Future left Young Thug out of it, sat down together and created a dope record. Kind of wasted a great instrumental. 

To be blunt, I’m just not impressed with “Pain 1993”. It could be the fact that I’m not the biggest Playboi Carti fan, or it could be just because the song’s just not that interesting. I’ve replayed “Pain 1993” numerous times searching for something with depth or meaning because that, accompanied with creative cadences and complex bars, is the reason why I love Drake’s music. This didn’t do it for me. 

The intro to “Losses” is amazing. The song starts with a clip of Drake’s father Dennis Graham previewing a song Dennis had been working on recently. It ends with Dennis saying something like, “This songs about family, if anyone feel anyway about it I don’t give a f***”, classic.

It’s funny how you can listen to any Drake project and stumble upon a song that you personally aren’t really feeling. The next song is the exact song you’re looking for. Self-reflection is my favorite type of Drake song because the untouchable becomes relatable and humbled.

The second verse of “Losses” touches on Drake’s motivation on why he does what he does, “I do it for the Grahams not the Gram”. Then goes into depth about his sacrifices and choices that he’s made over the years and defends his reasoning behind them. 

“I did it by being myself with no dramatic acting

I couldn’t sit around and wait, I had to have it happen

Lost you to the game, I gotta face that

Really think I lost you like a ways back”

-Losses

Drakes starts off “From Florida With Love” paying homage to the late Static Major who was well known for his appearance on Lil Wayne’s “Lollipop”. Otherwise the song is a dope story about Wayne showing Drake “Lollipop” back in 2008 on a tour bus with Kobe Bryant. (RIP) Then the story continues with Drake getting robbed for his chain and how that lesson stuck with him for life. Further justifying his reasoning for his mentality and how he handles certain situations. 

“From that day I never touched the road without a (Plugg)

Ayy, from that day I never saw the point in talkin’ tough (Nah)

Hasn’t happened since, I guess you n***** know what’s up (Yup)

Yeah, haven’t seen the 6ix in like a month (6ix)

F*** that, I’m back, baby, where the love? (Love)”

– From Florida With Love

“VIRAL. MOVIE.”

Love to see Drake on some, what I define as, “murder music”. Type of music that just makes you wanna fight anybody, anytime… Drake absolutely BODIES the first verse but it’s a mere alley oop to Fivio Foriegn.

Fivio Foriegn sounds like he’s right at home on this one. His delivery is in your face, lyrics are gritty, his aggression is on another level. My only take back is Sosa Geek’s verse just feels, unnecessary. Or maybe I just really wish Pop Smoke was alive to clean this one up RIP. 

The final song on the project “War” was released around Christmas time 2019. The best part of this being the outro to the project is only that we can stream this song now. Despite being released months in advance it only became available on streaming services with this release.

War is a song that is being recognized as “UK Drill” which, obviously, was created in the United Kingdom. This is just another example of how Drake can travel in and out of different genres and subgenres immaculately.  

Conclusion

Overall the project is supposed to be perceived as a “mixtape” rather than an “album”. Drake is set to release a brand new studio album later this year. As a whole I enjoy the project, I’m trying to shy away from relating it to other albums because it technically isn’t an album. Dark Lane Demo Tape isn’t game changing, but it will hold the world over until the real album drops.

What was your favorite song on “Dark Lane Demo Tape”?

Tell me what you guys think in the comments below! 

Thank you for reading my “Dark Lane Demo Mixtape”  HD review. If you enjoyed this post check out boisandbartalk.com for more content from the bois! 

Love, 

Kev Clark HD

[dafnxiety]

A monster called ...

I watched a movie last night, in the middle of a hormonal disorder, an overreaction that brought me a huge disappointment on myself, and an anxiety episode. Considering the whole mental state I was in while watching the movie, plus the background behind the recommendation, it can be easily understood that I was in a swirl of emotions that made me prone to leverage the messaging to whatever my own mental illness was able to interpret to give meaning to that precise moment in my life.

The movie shows 4 stories told to a child by a monster, the first story talks about a witch that was falsely accused by a prince for killing his fiancée so that she could marry him and continue been queen. There was no proof, but she was a witch, anyway, and her intentions were in fact, at some point, to find a way to continue ruling. It was very easy to understand why everybody believed the prince and attacked the “evil” witch. Yes, her thoughts were evil and her actions in the past might not have being the most ethical, but the truth was she didn’t kill the princess to-be, it was the prince who did it.

There is evil in good people, and there is good in evil, too. It is not white or black. It doesn’t matter if we feel or want to do something evil, what matters is how we conquer that feeling and how we avoid the transformation of an evil thought into actions. It matters how we conquer our own human psyche and nature. Dafnxiety, for example is not always bad. Yes, she drives us all crazy, me more than the rest of the world – literally – but it’s not always that bad to live with anxiety. When I’m not on an episode, I have a higher sensitivity to understand certain situations that people without anxiety can’t. Bigger compassion that helps me comprehend people’s feelings and behaviors deeply. I overthink things so much that I have a huge inventory of information stored in my head that helps me connect dots easier and faster allowing me to do more precise assumptions, and know things by “gut” that are not and will not be told to me. I am always expecting the worse, so I follow rules carefully avoiding tragedies; I always have a plan b and I always have a way to come out with a salvation plan within minutes. And I fix disasters. And I build things from zero dealing with the frustration of failing. I’m always prepared. And I iterate constantly, with grace – after the panic attack is gone, of course. The personal dimension as side, how could I be a good Marketing professional and Marketing teacher if I didn’t excel in those skills? So, I embrace my anxiety, and now, I know it is not about suppressing it or deleting it. It is about outsmarting her.

The prince in the story wanted the whole kingdom to believe him so he took care of every single detail to make up the perfect crime scene. But in the verge of getting his very well planned goal he also sacrificed the “love of his life” for something apparently bigger in him: greed. His greed was so big that it didn’t allow him to see what he was losing and doing to his beloved fiancée, nor that the reality he created in his mind to fool all, was not real and would never be, no matter who believed him or how hard he wanted to believe it. We naturally tend to believe our own lies to justify actions that are not in line with our personal values or level of ethics as an attemp of silencing our morals, but in the end, we all know we cannot silence them and they will stick with us forever. Either we learn to deal with them or they will be a burden for life.

“Humans are complicated beasts. You believe comforting lies, while knowing full well the painful truth that makes those lies necessary” the monster said, later in the movie. When I am in an anxiety crisis I come up with the best lies that make me feel I am in control by anticipating the worse, and somehow, I make myself believe in those lies so that I can have a good excuse to fire-back before even getting fired at! Just as the witch that was judged for her past actions and the burden of being labeled as a witch, I convince myself that I can see how I will be attacked in the future, and I start defending myself without any plausible cause. Hurting people, relationships and all to protect one evil, but very natural part of me: my ego.  

The last story, talked about letting go. How Connor wasn’t able to let go of her mom because of fear, but at the same time he was hoping to end the episode his mom and him were living, just because he wanted to finish the pain. He couldn’t handle the guilt of wishing his mom´s death to avoid more ache on him. My anxiety is filled with unreasonable and reasonable fears, as well as unfunded guilt. I tend to think I am not good enough and I tend to think everyone is going to leave me for someone better, someone easier to love, someone less complicated – and although many actually do, it shouldn’t be my business who wants or can stick to me as a whole. I shouldn’t act on this, since it is unfair to the people that surrounds me. And I should focus my energy on other bigger, more important issues, I have to deal with on a daily basis, instead. Like being the best version of me every day and outsmarting my BFF that will never abandon me: Dafnxiety.

So, as I said to you yesterday, trust is lost, not gained. But it is also a choice. And if I value confidence as an ingredient on any kind of relationship I need to stop fooling myself and make a choice. From this point forward, I fully trust you. No middle terms. And from this day on, I let go the fact that my trust might or might not be betrayed. That there is still a chance that you might on purpose hurt me and my ego on-the-go. That what happened in the past, since I accepted it, should stay there and never be brought back. And I know now that whatever comes I cannot control, nor anticipate or even less I cannot defend myself from something you haven’t done, yet.

Yes, anxiety disorder is a mental illness and I need a whole of understanding and support, but that doesn’t mean I can’t control it to avoid hurting those I love.