#so like the thing in hindi means big talk in few words

[lost-my-sanity1]

omw to exam hall knowing poem is kam shabdo me badi baat, substance is what I'm abusing and my tone forever /j

[secretagentspydetectiveninja]

so there's no hindi version of phoenix wright but it absolutely SHOULD exist because it would be so good listen-

(i am fully "localising" this because if the english and french versions of the game were allowed to then so am i, dammit)

it would take place in some big city in india, probably mumbai so that the steel samurai stuff can be connected to bollywood

the last time i was in mumbai i literally saw a japanese temple like down the road from my grandparents' building so the japanese influences aren't even that out of place. it's a big city okay, it could totally work

kurain village can be a "gaon" (village) somewhere in the maharastrian countryside. the fey manor even feels a lot like the big family houses you get out in gaon, though with a lot more japanese influence of course

the thought of pearl calling maya "maya didi" is melting my heart omg ("didi" means "big sister" but you can also use it on people who aren't literally your sister)

maya can still be called maya, it's a common name in india

and morgan would get so mad whenever phoenix doesn't call maya "maya-ji" ("ji" is a respectful suffix like "-sama" in japanese). he'd be like SHE'S MY BEST FRIEND, WHY TF WOULD I CALL HER "MAYA-JI"

edgeworth and gumshoe would have THE jai dixit and ali bhai dynamic from dhoom. without the motorbikes, of course. gumshoe would call people "yaar" instead of "pal" (it means the same thing).

larry is circuit. i don't know how else to put that. if you understand then you understand and if you don't, you don't.

speaking of, furio tigre would ABSOLUTELY refer to himself with the pronoun "apun" (a first-person pronoun often used by mafia-type characters) and call people "mamu" ("sucker")

OH AND WOCKY WOULD TOO. wocky would speak in the most munnabhai slang you ever heard. he would also mix english, hindi, marathi, gujarati, punjabi and bengali all in the same sentence. nigh incomprehensible.

lotta hart... while it makes sense to make her from south india, i feel like they get negatively stereotyped enough as is and they deserve better. so you know what? she can be gujju. lotta is from surat now and she talks like it. she's got that "hurati" accent. morgan fey hears her with her પાણી instead of पानी and ગોળી instead of गोली and is immediately like "get out >:("

wendy oldbag being one of those desi grannies is absolutely brilliant lmao

sister bikini being a desi auntie is even better

me and my brother have been calling hindi manfred von karma "manoj karma" for funsies so i've decided to keep it (the word "karma" is of indian origin so it works perfectly)

i haven't come up with pun names for people yet but phoenix, apollo and athena can keep their english first names. seriously, in mumbai you see places with those names all the time. especially apollo. it is inescapable.

^see? i was DYING. anyways

MAYA'S TRADEMARK FAVOURITE FOOD SHOULD BE PANI PURI ("gol guppa" for you dehli peeps), NO I AM NOT TAKING CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM

khura'in, being likely in the himalayas somewhere near bhutan (based on their climate and culture), would still be a few hours' plane journey from mumbai so it still works. a lot of the khura'inese characters can keep their same names too, eg "nahyuta sahdmadhi" already sounds very very sanskrit to my ears (sanskrit is the south asian equivalent of what latin is in europe). and also have you seen how he dresses because it's clearly a sherwani (indian/pakistani formal clothing) and amara's idle animation is clearly inspired by art of hindu deities and rafya's middle name is literally padma and oh my god there is so much shared cultural influence they are CLEARLY countries that border each other

(the "kh" sound strongly present in the khura'inese language is also giving me south asian vibes...)

me and my brother already joke about how shah rukh khan would totally make a great mr reus/roger retinz. LISTEN okay he absolutely would. he's got that villain swag.

you don't even need to change the other guy's real name ("manov mistree") because that already sounds like an indian name. do you know how common the surname "mistry" is in some parts?? do you know how many gazillions of people i personally know who have names that sound exactly like that??? and roger retinz is the ratings rajah. RAJAH (king). i've already been headcanoning him as desi since the first time i played aa6. anyway shah rukh khan character vibes

(but then again amir khan has literally played an evil magician in a bollywood movie before, so he could pull it off too i think...)

hindi has informal ("tu"), medium ("tum") and formal ("aap") second-person pronouns. you could have SO MUCH FUN with those. franziska would call literally everyone "tu" to assert dominance while edgeworth would call literally everyone "aap" to keep them distant. siblings amirite

franziska referring to miles as "mera chhota bhai" is actually killing me oh my god. that's her chhota bhai you guys skjdhkjfhldjssdrgse

feenie calling dahlia "dollie" works really well because i have like seven relatives with the nickname "dollie" so i'm presuming it must be common

oh yes, and mumbai does occasionally get earthquakes so the DL-6 incident still makes sense

india also has an active space programme so the UR-1 incident does too

and there's a monsoon season with storms so the SL-9 incident does as well ahahhahahhaa this is sO GOOD (okay in all fairness the monsoon season is not in february, when the case takes place... whatever whatever it's FINE i can make it work somehow)

you can use three scripts for the one translation -- english romanisation (for NRIs like me who suck at hindi...), the devanagari script commonly used to write hindi, and the urdu script so that urdu speakers can play too (for the most part the languages are mutually intelligible, you wouldn't need to change the dialogue at all, only the writing system)

if anyone out there is better at hindi than i am and wants to make a fan translation please do, it would be so iconic

[frostdormu]

Rambling Thoughts on Lifeweaver and The Collective

So I've been thinking about how Lifeweaver and The Collective fit into the story campaign for Overwatch since Season 4 started. Lifeweaver's story of being a wanted criminal by Vishkar and joining The Collective is super interesting, and no matter what the devs have said so far, I really do think he, along with the Collective as a whole, are going to start a partnership or even join forces with Overwatch.

The Collective and The Martins

From what I've gathered with Esperança, Lifeweaver's bio, and all the Season 4 narrative interviews, Cláudio Martins is the inventor of durovidro (translated in Google to hardglass), and together with his husband, Hector Martins, they created the sea wall that protects the shores of Portugal and Spain from the rising sea level and to also later serve as a siege defense for the countries against Anubis during the First Omnic Crisis.

Here's where it starts to get confusing for me. Lifeweaver's bio refers to Vishkar's founder being dead by the time biolight was invented. I want to assume that durovidro is hardlight and that Cláudio is the defacto inventor and founder of hardlight, but he wouldn't be dead if that was the case. Torbjörn and Brigitte have a match start interaction on Esperança where they talk about how the Martins are currently living at the Atlantic Arcology so they can't be dead then unless they're living in denial that the Martins are dead. So that leaves 2 options: there is a second mystery inventor/founder of hardlight that has since died or corporate people who did a hostile takeover of Vishkar and shoved Cláudio out of the company and have since then created a narrative with a fake, deceased figurehead who has similar morals as Cláudio with the big difference being capitalism first, humanity second.

If there is a second inventor of hardlight then I think it's safe to say that their name is Vishkar. From a few websites on Google, the name Vishkar is a masculine name with Indian origins and means Prayer. Some websites associate the name with intelligence and Vishkar (spelled विष्कार or Vishkaar) is also a word in Hindi that translates to invention. This could also be the name of the fake figurehead at Vishkar.

I think that the other option is more interesting and not so open-ended so I'm going to continue talking about that instead. The timeline then becomes Cláudio invents hardlight, at some point creates his company and the company copyrights hardlight, gets ousted in a hostile takeover, the fake narrative is created and the company is renamed, and then Cláudio and Hector create the Atlantic Arcology and The Collective in international waters to bypass Vishkar's copyright on hardlight and continue working towards their original goals with hardlight being for humanity and to help communities in crisis.

There are some remaining plotholes. How did Reinhardt, Brigitte, Winston, and Orisa get their hard-light shields? Reinhardt was a Crusader during the Omnic Crisis and the Crusaders themselves were a paramilitary group during the crisis so Cláudio most likely let Germany and any other country use hardlight to defend themselves. Brigitte most likely got her shield from Reinhardt and modified it for herself, or the Ironclad Guild has a contract with Vishkar to use hardlight and she took it with her when she joined up with Reinhardt touring around Europe. I want to go with the personal headcanon that Cláudio sent Efi hardlight when she made the news. Winton has his because Winton Overwatch.

Another thing I'd like to just briefly mention is that in the translation for the announcer in the sea wall museum on Esperança that's available on the Overwatch wiki (thank you to whoever translated it to English), durovidro is described as being as hard as a diamond. While I'm looking at pictures to add to this post I've noticed the diamond symbol appearing multiple times when Vishkar is present in imagery. You can even see it below in their company logo and the hardlight the architechs and Lifeweaver are holding in their hands is shaped like a diamond. Just an interesting connection I saw.

How Lifeweaver Connects

So Lifeweaver runs away so Vishkar doesn't get their hands on biolight and eventually winds up living at the Atlantic Arcology. Chances are he's met Cláudio and Hector. The environmental and humanitarian outreach all three of them could do together with hardlight and biolight would be transformative. Biolight could replace portions of the Amazon Rainforest that have been burned down and while not having any needs and being a part of the oxygen cycle. They could also even act as sources of green energy.

And that's exactly where I think Overwatch comes in. The Collective has a level of recognition with Portugal and most likely Spain and operates outside UN jurisdiction and Overwatch is a group that is wanted by the UN and will need resources to operate. It practically writes itself I feel. Once Vishkar is revealed to be working with Talon someone in Overwatch will contact The Collective. They could show up even sooner. Brigitte and Reinhardt are unable to recruit Torbjörn but maybe he instead refers them to The Collective because of the outreach and help that Cláudio and Hector provided during the first crisis.

Lifeweaver joining Overwatch seems so natural as well. He would be the connecting character to progress Mei's climate story forward with Hector joining in as well. Lúcio and Lifeweaver have a strong dislike of Vishkar with their difference being how they interact with Symmetra so seeing them in a story where they show Symmetra all the lies she's been fed would be interesting. She's lived her entire life in Vishkar's world, listening to their narrative so finally stepping out of it would be a momentous occasion and dare I say, cinematic worthy. There are already interactions between them, but Mercy and Lifeweaver (and Baptiste too to set them up as a couple!) teaming up for humanitarian outreach in places that need medical aid. If there are no other architechs that end up joining Overwatch, he would still be greatly helpful to Winston, Brigitte, and Reinhardt.

[swordgayist]

cultural appropriation in ATLA (hinduism edition)

i’m sure there’s already a ton of posts about this, but whatever, i’m still making one idc. 

ATLA’s cultural appropriation, everyone knows about it, the white people don’t speak about it, and the asian and indigenous people get ignored. we know the cycle. but i wanted to come here and highlight some of the most prominent examples of ATLA abusing hinduism, as i am kinda sorta hindu (i was raised in a hindu household, i go to chinmaya mission, that kinda shit). i might forget some things so keep that in mind.

this is gonna be divided into 3 main sections, since there are different ways that they disrespect hinduism that i don’t wanna lump together.

and i’d say i know a lot about hinduism but that doesn’t make me an expert, obviously, so if other hindus have anything to add and/or correct then please do !! and if anyone else wants to share how their cultures were appropriated then please do that as well !!

so let’s get started shall we?

appropriating hinduism

1) the avatar

we’ll start with the most obvious example: the avatar itself

i know that there are parts of the avatar mythos that are taken from other cultures as well but the idea of the avatar itself is primarily from hinduism.

basically in hinduism, the term dashavatara refers to the 10 reincarnations of lord vishnu (the god of preservation), with avatar(a) meaning form or incarnation in sanskrit, and das(a) meaning ten. it was said that whenever the world was out of balance, lord vishnu would come down to earth in a certain form to restore balance. Each reincarnation is considered a different life with a different story. the avatars of lord vishnu are often considered the saviors of the world.

so basically, the central idea of the show and the actual name of the show is largely based on hinduism.

2) chakras

many different indian religions have a concept of chakras (chakra meaning wheel or circle in sanskrit), but hinduism is the one that primarily preaches the system of seven chakras, the version used in ATLA.

chakras connect the physical body to the ‘subtle’ body (referring more to the spirit and the psyche) by connecting parts of the body to aspects of the mind. the idea is that through different forms of steady meditation you can manipulate the different chakras and allow the pure flow of energy through the body.

the whole idea of chakras on ATLA is that aang has to unblock them all to let the cosmic energy flow through him so that he can go into the avatar state at will. so yeah, pretty much that whole idea was taken from hinduism.

3) terminologies

these are just a few terms that were taken from hinduism. i’m pretty sure there are more that i can’t think of right now but yeah.

“agni” kai 

i’ll be honest i don’t know where the ‘kai’ part is from, i don’t think it’s from hinduism but if it is well fuck me i guess.  ‘agni’ in hinduism is the god of fire, so the creators used it in ‘agni kai’, the name for a firebending duel.

“bumi”

this is in reference to the hindu word for ‘earth’, which is bhoomi. this is also in reference to our goddess of earth, bhoomi devi. also this doesn’t really bother me but i wonder if the creators knew that bhoomi is a name typically used for women (as are most hindi names ending in ‘i’/‘ee’).

in general, concepts like having multiple complex gods (the spirits) who are capable of good and evil and the reincarnation cycle are prominent in a lot of asian cultures, including (and arguably primarily) hinduism.

mocking hinduism

now we get into the mockery of hinduism in ATLA, because it is very much there.

1) whoever the fuck that baboon guy in the spirit world was

now what the fuck was this.

i mean i wouldn’t say this is the most egregious example of them making fun of brown people but lord why did this even need to be there? this random guy from the spirit world has an indian accent ? and is fervently chanting ‘om’ for some reason, and it’s clearly meant to be seen as comical. also portraying brown people as monkeys....... really.

2) combustion man/sparky sparky boom man

when rewatching ATLA in 2019 i actually had no idea that this was a thing, because the last time i had watched it was as a kid and i didn’t finish it.

so lord was i in for a surprise when i saw...

now... now what.

if you didn’t know, combustion man’s ‘third eye’ is designed to replicate the hindu god of destruction, lord shiva. right down to the vibhuti on his forehead (referring to the three line markings around the third eye).

in hinduism, lord shiva’s third eye is used to reduce people to ashes, though as far as i can recall, not very frequently. the primary significance of the third eye is that it represents the ability of higher spiritual thought and higher consciousness.

the ATLA writers take the ACTUAL significance of the third eye, throw it out the window, and then take its destructive abilities to make a super duper cool and dangerous new firebending technique.

and if that wasn’t bad enough, the actual person who uses this technique, and is meant to emulate a GOD who is PRAISED, is a scary, burly, half metal man who is a villain and an assassin. not to mention the design of his facial hair replicates that super duper scary “terrorist” depiction of brown people, particularly of muslims, that white people are so thoroughly terrified of for no reason. 

this is a parody of a god, and they portrayed him as this terrifying, maniacal fucking assassin who, along with p’li, the combustion bender from LOK, is constantly referred to as a “third-eyed freak”. i’ve made this analogy before and i’ll do it again, this is like making jesus into a hitman.

now onto my favorite example...

3) guru pathik

ah, this motherfucker.

i don’t really have any problems with him as a character, i mean hell, must’ve taken a fuck ton of patience to handle aang’s “why would choose cosmic energy over katara” bullshit.

but we all know it, we see it plain as day, don’t even try to deny it.

“guru” literally just means teacher or guide, so i don’t really know why pathik needed to be referred to as “guru” so distinctively from aang’s other teachers and guides, but that’s just extremely trivial compared to all the other issues with this character.

first of all what is this character design? what is he even wearing? if they’re trying to replicate the clothes of swamis and priests and stuff this is already wrong, realized people don’t dress like this. and why the fuck does he have an indian accent? and why was this indian accent done by a non indian (brian george)?

once again, the poor but extremely heavy indian accent is clearly meant to be mocking, if it wasn’t, they wouldn’t’ve gone out of their way to get a non indian person to DO an indian accent, and instead they would’ve just gotten an actual indian person to play the role. 

and oh yeah, the onion and banana juice. because hindus just eat weird shit right.

whether it’s actually weird or not, the show certainly portrays it as weird. and as far as i know no hindu actually fucking drinks onion and banana juice.

ironic because brown people can absolutely destroy white people in cooking. but i digress.

i know what you’re all waiting for. because the guru apparently didn’t have enough fun with guru pathik, so they just had to come back to him in book 3:

where do i begin.

so this is obviously john o’bryan’s super funny and hilarious depiction of pathik as a hindu god.

usually when a god has multiple arms it’s to carry an array of things, from flowers to weapons to instruments, and one hand is typically free to bless devotees (ie. goddess durga and lord vishnu respectively):

but of course white people see this as weird and so they make fun of it, hence guru pathik having multiple arms just flailing about aimlessly (save for the two that are being used to carry the aforementioned onion and banana juice).

then there’s the whole light behind pathik’s head which is usually depicted in drawings of hindu gods to show that they are celestial.

also what the fuck is he holding? is that supposed to be a veena? because this is what a veena looks like:

and i assume the reason this was added was to mock the design of goddess saraswathi, who carries a veena:

but that right there in the picture of pathik looks more like a tambura than a veena. 

and it also just kinda looks like a banjo?

but i guess the animators just searched up “long indian instrument” and slapped it on there. actually no, that’s giving them too much credit, they probably didn’t search it up at all. 

and then the actual scene is pathik singing crazily about chakras tasting good or something while playing the non-veena and it’s all supposed to be some funky crazy hallucination that aang is having due to sleep deprivation. just some crazy dream, just as crazy as talking appa and momo sparring with swords or tree-ozai coming to life.

our gurus and swamis and sadhus and generally realized people are very respected in hinduism, they’re people we look up to and honor very much. and our GODS are beings that we literally worship. and the writers just take both and make caricatures out of them for other white people to laugh at.

4) other shit

before we move to the next portion i just wanna mention there are also smaller backhanded jabs that i can’t really remember now, but one example was when zuko was all “we’ll be sure to remember that, guru goody goody”. or when a character would meditate and say “om” only when the meditation is supposed to be portrayed as comical or pointless. or in bitter work when sokka was rambling on about karma. small things like that. but moving on.

south asian representation, or lack thereof

now i finally get to the “losing” hinduism part. by this i mean the lack of actual representation there is of south asians (the region where hinduism is primarily practiced) despite the fact that hinduism plays such a big role in the show’s world design.

i think it’s safe to say that broadly the main cast consists of aang, katara, sokka, zuko, toph, azula, iroh, mai, ty lee, and suki. 

a grand total of none of these characters are south asian. the writers don’t even attempt to add any south asian main characters. 

there are characters with dark skin, like haru and jet, but a) they’re not confirmed to be south asian and don’t have any south asian features or south asian names, b) they’re side characters, so they don’t count as representation, and c) even if they were south asian and main characters, jet wouldn’t even count because he’s portrayed as a terrorist.

the ONLY truly south asian character we get is fucking guru pathik. so yeah. not representation.

i don’t get how the creators of this show rip off of hinduism (among many other south asian cultures they rip off of), mock indians, and then don’t even have the decency to HAVE a main character who is south asian.

i’ve never gotten a chance to compile all this, and this definitely isn’t all the creators have done, but i hope this was somewhat informative.

[bruce-slutsteen]

CAN’T MAKE YOU HAPPIER NOW - FOUR

Previously - Three || Masterlist || Next - Five

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: swearing, kissing (technically cheating), outright cheating, smoking

Note: Thank you for the love this fic has gotten. I appreciate every one of the comments and views. Please leave feedback it keeps me going. beti is Hindi for daughter. Covers 2x01-2x03. 

Word Count: 4,203

17 years ago

“Based on scenario A, what would you recommend if this was your prospective client? Mr. Roy? Care to enlighten us?”

Kendall was nursing a hangover when he heard his name. His hazel eyes skimmed the chalkboard to remember what scenario A was. 

“Not worth the risk. Any businessman worth his reputation would never go after a deal like this.”

Nisha turned from her seat in the front row, unimpressed. Obviously, she knew who he was seeing as they had a few classes together and his last name loomed large on campus. From the way his palm pressed into his forehead, someone had a headache. Given his reputation for partying, she was not surprised. She raised her hand.

“Miss Asuri?”

“I disagree.”

Kendall furrowed his brow and looked up at the pretty sophomore questioning him. He recognized her but didn’t know her name. She looked back at the professor.

“The only thing I agree with is that it’s a risk. It could be a calculated risk. You can’t just sit out of the game. Prepare for any eventuality. Reputation is earned by actions.”  Her eyes raked over him on her last sentence before she looked away entirely.  She doesn’t catch the smile on Kendall’s lips.

“Miss Asuri, I believe you just won your client.” 

Kendall spent the rest of class staring at the back of her head. Once they were dismissed, she gathered up her book bag. The professor congratulated her and she smiled. She walked out of the room and Kendall was hot on her heels ignoring the gaggle of girls that usually formed around him. 

“Uh, excuse me, Miss Asuri.”

Nothing.

“Miss?”

He reached forward to tap her shoulder when she spun around.

“Yes?”

“I, uh, hi.” Fuck. She was beautiful. Big dark eyes. High cheekbones. Full lips. Most of the girls at school were cute, at best. 

“Please, tell your roommate to stop sending me flowers. I have LSAT prep and no time for his bullshit.”

“LSATs? Aren’t you a sophomore?”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t start studying. Especially if I wanna go to Columbia.”

“I, uh, I’m not here for Stewy.”  It was very like him to have hit on the most gorgeous girl on campus and not tell Kendall. Stewy had the looks and charm, but Kendall had the name.

Nisha stared at him like he was the most annoying creature in the universe.

“Then why are you talking to me? There’s like 4 blondes over there that would die if you even breathed on them.”

His eyes flickered over to them. They were boring.

“Uh-huh.”

“Do you even know my name?”

“I know your last name.”

This time she didn’t hold back and rolled her eyes.  He was cute. There was no denying that. She just had no time for games. Or at least that’s what her brain told her. 

“Nisha Asuri.” She put her hand forward.

“Kendall Roy.” He placed a kiss on the back of her hand causing her to yank it back. She was certain that made the other girls swoon because it was unexpected and old-fashioned. Who the hell did this guy think he is?

“Charmed.”

“You sure look it.”

She let out a long sigh. She did not give a shit about him and he was eating it up. So many people treated him like a prince and she looked at him like he was gum on her shoe.

“I liked your answer in class. You know your shit.”

“Some of us have to study cause our daddy’s not gonna buy our degree.”  Why was she still talking to him? She wanted to tell her feet to move. 

He laughed and she saw a genuine smile on his face. Ohh, no. She tried desperately to hold onto her annoyance as he stepped closer.

“Please correct me if I’m wrong…”

“No.”  He saw the way she reacted and smiled even more. She was annoyed with him, but she also liked him. He stepped forward, looming over her petite frame. She stepped back but kept eye contact.

“Do you even know what our lecture was about?” 

“Kinda?”

“Nope.”  She shook her head vehemently. He was trouble. It didn’t matter if she was attracted to him. He was trouble and she had a career plan to follow.  She turned her back on him and started walking. Kendall laughed. She didn’t say anything, so he trailed after her.

“What?” 

“You’re bad news.”  She stopped in front of the building for her next class and turned her head.

He chuckled and stepped back with his arms out. 

“Don’t you know, baby? I’m a Roy. I own the news.”

She laughed, despite herself, at what a cocky little shit he was. 

Now - 48 hours later after the wedding

Nisha’s quick to bring the kids back to New York. All Logan will say is “rehab” and “Europe” and she can’t do anything with that. She’s bombarded with messages from Shiv, Stewy, and her brothers asking what’s going on. She has no idea. Kendall is freezing her out. Shiv thinks she’s upset about his relapse and the bear hug. Stewy, Ramesh, and Kapil know the truth. She doesn’t even know what to tell the kids.

Her fingers work through her dark hair as she looks at her plate. She hasn’t touched her food. She’s taking a rare personal day and everyone she works with knows why. Kendall’s on television poorly reciting his father’s words and looking ill while he does it. Why is he doing this? Why is she on the outside? What could’ve changed so quickly? When she suggested the exit clause, she didn’t expect him to use it on her. 

The phone lights up and she snatches it. It’s not him. It’s their real estate lawyer? What the fuck? She blinks, staring at it. 

Subject: Midtown Apartment

Dear Nisha,

Kendall informed me you want to sell ASAP. The market’s really great right now and it’s a wonderful apartment. Sign the attached with the secure link and send them back to me. It won’t take long for a buyer then I’ll send you the checks. Kendall, see my separate email about penthouses. 

Best,

Paula

She clicks the attachment. It’s all standard. They will split the sale. If he’s not staying there, where is he? He really doesn’t want her to know where he is.  He’s really running away and this is the first move. 

A wave of nausea settles over her and she puts her hand on her mouth. The last time she was in the apartment was the morning of the meeting. He signed the takeover paperwork and they went back there. Too impatient to go upstairs, he took her in the doorway. That happened. She didn’t dream that. It happened. They fucked two days ago. He promised. He promised. It felt so different. They were gonna win. She had him. 

When she asked about separation, she used the word “trial”. She had the decency to say it to his face and watch his crumble when she handed him a suitcase. After the vote failed and he was freezing her out, they didn’t sell anything or sign anything. Somehow, her life is entirely different after two days. 

Stewy shuffles in after she puts the kids to bed. He’s not gliding like he usually does. He actually looks pretty shaken up. She offers him a glass of wine which he readily takes.

“Nish, c’mon. I get it. You’re always Team Kendall, but—“

“I have no fucking idea what’s happening.” She drains her glass. 

His brow furrows as he looks at her. She tells him what happened two days ago. She isn’t being coy. She isn’t lying to him. She’s just out. 

“He just left?”

“He won’t talk to me.” The tears breakthrough for the first time that day. “I call and it just goes to voicemail. No one will tell me anything.”

She gets up and pours more wine. Stewy sighs and watches her move around the kitchen. She tops off his glass and sits back down.

“He’s selling the apartment.” 

“What?”

“The one in Midtown. I got an email from our property lawyer.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know.”

“Jesus.” He inhales sharply. “Are you getting divorced?”

The noise that escapes her lips sounds like a hollow laugh. It’s incredible. Her relationship of 17 years is circling the drain and she found out in an email. Stewy puts his hand on her back and that’s when she starts sobbing. She can’t breathe. He frowns and sighs letting her cry on his shoulder. With every sharp breath, she can smell his extremely expensive sandalwood cologne. 

“It’s okay. Deep breath.” He whispers. It might be the first time she can hear genuine emotion in his voice. “Deep breath, Nish.” 

She pulls back mumbling an apology and wiping her eyes with the heels of her palms. Stewy shakes his head. God, it’s so strange. Who is this doppelgänger? Why isn’t he making jokes? Or a stupidly timed proposal to make her laugh? His brown hand reaches forward and brushes her tears off her face with his thumb. His skin is alarmingly smooth. He probably has more skincare products than she does.

“See? You're okay.”

She sniffles and nods as he keeps murmuring words of comfort. His thumb runs over her lip. Their dark eyes lock. He lunges forward, she meets him halfway, and their mouths slot together.  He inhales sharply and tugs her into his lap. His black facial hair scratches against her face. It’s not a sensation she’s used to. His tongue slips into her mouth and she hums. Wait. What is she doing? She pulls back and he chases her lips. She puts her hand on his chest.

“No, stop.”

He freezes. She moves off his lap and stands up.

“We shouldn’t. It’s just—I’m upset—things are—“

“Right. Right. Mistake.”

“God, how fucked is my marriage if I’m kissing you?”

Stewy raises his eyebrows and chuckles. They stumble awkwardly to the door.

“I didn’t mean to—“

“Never happened.”

“Good.”

“I’ll keep in touch if I hear from him and you…”

“Yeah, definitely.”

“Just so you know—Team Nisha all the way.”

“Thanks, Stewy. Good night.”

“Good night.” The second he’s out the door she shuts it.

“Fuck.” 

Nisha puts the stopper in the wine bottle and puts it away. Mindlessly, she gets ready for bed and nearly throws herself on the mattress. This day needs to fucking end. She pulls the blanket over her head when her phone lights up in the dark room. It doesn’t go away. She huffs and comes out of her bedding shelter. It’s Kendall. Her hand shakes when she answers.

“Hey, Nisha.”

Now that she’s finally talking to him, she doesn’t know what to say. 

“Things have been crazy busy. Hadn’t had a chance to call you back.”

“Mmm.”

“Dad’s having us meet up at the Hamptons house.”

“Okay.”

Her hand rests on her forehead. After torturing for three days, he’s talking about absolutely nothing. His voice is strained—clipped—unfeeling. She doesn’t know this person.

“Was the flight back okay? With the kids?”

“Yep.”

He goes quiet and she can’t help but laugh. He clears his throat uncomfortably as her laughter grows hysterical. 

“I was such an idiot.”

“W-What?”

“You were never gonna do it, were you? Not really. I was never—“ Her throat closes up and her vision blurs. “You made a fool out of me. Even when I…” She covers her mouth with her hand to muffle her cries. It’s the last thing she wants him to hear since he doesn’t even care anymore. She’s never felt more alone in her life. “Ramesh was right. This whole time. You’re always changing the rules. And it’s whatever you want. Always. No matter what.”

Silence settles over the conversation again. She’s struggling to catch her breath. 

“That it?”

“Oh, I have more. The fucking apartment? Are you serious?”

“Right, uh, I just thought, you know, clean break.”

“So, that’s it? 17 years, two kids, and that’s all you can fucking say?”

“…Yeah.”

Her blood boils and the rage spreads through her veins. How dare he? She doesn’t need to put up with this shit. He’s not going to give her answers? Fine. She doesn’t need them. She doesn’t want them. She’s not going to beg. She’s having the locks changed. She’s mailing him his things. She’s done. After everything she put up with, everything she’s done for him. Guided him. Supported him. Rebuilt him from his lowest. If he thinks he can survive without her, let him try. 

“Good. ‘Cause, this is over. Enjoy the Hamptons with Daddy Dearest.”

Nisha’s back at work when Kendall takes Sophie to the Brightstar Adventure Park. She resists the temptation to outdo him. Because it’s not gonna get bigger than that and it’s not a contest. Knowing how robotic Kendall has been lately, she goes for an intimate dinner in Westchester. Sophie gets her favorite chicken curry and all the homemade jalebi and gulab jamun she wants. Iverson enjoys the curry when it’s mild and likes the sweets. They giggle with their cousins while Nisha hangs back in the kitchen.

“I love her, but why did you name her Sophie? Did you lose a bet?” Kapil teases.

“It was penance since she came out brown.” Nisha nudges him in the ribs.

“Saw you on Page Six. Talking to Stewy Hosseini. Making those Roys sweat, huh?” Ramesh joins them.

“Yeah, the rumor mill is loving me these days.” Nisha rolls her eyes.

“It’s his fault. Not yours.” Ramesh sighs. “Press thinks he’s a disaster and you’re the long-suffering partner tethered to him.”

“You mean they got it right?” Kapil raises his eyebrows. Ramesh swats him on the chest.

“I’m sorry. I should’ve listened.” Nisha crunches down on the jalebi. 

“No, no, c’mon, Nish.” Kapil kisses the top of her head. Ramesh appears on the other side of her.

“We’d never turn down the opportunity to bring Logan Roy closer to death.” Ramesh puts his hand on her shoulder and squeezes. He leans in closer. “We got you. You know that right?”

“Yeah.” She puts her hand over his. “I do.”

They stay until 8 pm before going home. Nisha takes a shower while the kids get ready for bed. She has to keep herself busy. Locks changed. Belongings packed. Feelers about divorce lawyers. She’s not letting him pull the rug out from under her anymore. Nisha rubs her lotion down her arms when there’s a tap on her door.

“Come in.”

It’s the birthday girl in all her glory in lilac pajamas with her shiny black hair pulled back in a plait. Nisha grins as her heart jumps at the sight of her firstborn. She reaches for her and Sophie wastes no time diving into the duvet making her mom laugh. Sophie places her head in her lap and looks up with expectant brown eyes. Nisha hums a very classic Bollywood song while stroking Sophie’s hair. 

“Mommy?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you think Daddy had a good time today?”

“He got Grandpa to shut down the park for you, yeah?”

“Yeah. He just looked kinda sad.”

“He’s busy with Grandpa. They have a very boring problem right now. Business blah blah blah.”

“Like Princess Unikitty? Business business business, numbers.”

“Yes!”

A genuine smile tugs on her lips. Sophie has made them watch the first Lego movie so many times. Does Kendall even know what her favorite movie is? Or Iverson’s? Her brow furrows as the sinking feeling spreads through her stomach. Her firstborn turns to face her.

“Are you mad at Daddy? Is that why he’s not here?”

“It’s a bit more than that, baby.”

“Did he say he’s sorry?”

Nisha clears her throat praying it’ll steady her voice before she speaks. She hates Kendall right now for putting her in this position. He’s always doing this to her. She’s the good cop and the bad cop because she’s the only one. She wishes she could be honest and tell her, but she doesn’t want her daughter to know how it feels to carry her mother’s pain on her small shoulders. She’s worked so hard despite all of their problems to make a stable life for her children. For them to enjoy just being children.

“You know we love you two more than anything, right?”

She pushes down the doubt she feels answering for him. Does he love their children as much as she does? She grew them in her body.  Made sure she ate well, exercised, and did everything to make sure they were healthy inside her. The minute they arrived in this world, she made an oath to do whatever they needed. She would walk on hot coals. Step on broken glass. Her life was no longer just her own and she gave it gladly. She’s been there through first steps, nightmares, splinters, and skinned knees. Iverson’s diagnosis. Sophie’s first haircut. The time Iverson threw his glasses into the Hudson after being chased down by a pigeon. Everyone knows her children are her world. Was it so much to ask that they be Kendall’s too? The feeling of small, warm hands wrapping around her waist tears her from her thoughts.

“I know, Mommy. I love you.”

Nisha kisses Sophie repeatedly on the forehead until she squirms away. 

“Okay, okay, enough. I’m 10 now!”

“Enough? Sophie Nitala Roy says enough to her mother’s love?”

“You don’t have to be so dramatic.”

“10 years old. She knows everything now. I guess I’ll retire. You can have the house. I’ll go to India. Live on a mountain.”

“No! You can’t live on a mountain!”

“I will! You’re so big now. My job is done.” Nisha throws the duvet over her head.

Sophie’s hands tug at the duvet and her squealing soon attracts Iverson. Nisha’s two favorite people tickle her until they’re all silly mess on the California king.

As the weeks pass, Nisha hates to admit it, but not having to babysit Kendall frees up her time and reduces her headaches. She can focus on her work and the kids. It should be easier now. She doesn’t have to give pep talks or deal with the whiplash. She doesn’t have to hope he’s going to follow her instruction and see it blow up when he doesn’t. She doesn’t have to pray he’s sober for his next meeting. This is better.  But it also means he’s not pulling her close in his sleep. Waking up with him snuggled into her side. Or whispering dirty things in her ear as the car approaches their place. The gleam in his eye when he looked up at her with his head between her thighs. No. No. No. She doesn’t need that. The previous separation had only been a few months and even then, she knew it was a power move instead of the actual end. She wanted to punish him for lashing out at her. Now, it’s just over and it’s…better. She just has to get used to it and that takes time.

Weekends are spent with friends and family. She spends a lot of time in Westchester even though this is all probably disappointing to her mother. She didn’t like divorce. Marriages are worked through only severed by death. 

She’s on the back porch despite the brisk air and types away on her tablet. It’s mostly messages to her assistant about Monday. Then she sees the email from Kate and the PR team.

Subject: Photos

Hi Nisha,

Sorry to bother you on the weekend. The New York Post is gonna run these photos tomorrow. They’re not great. Wanted to give you a heads up cause it’s a lot. Nothing about you but they’ll ask for a reaction. Let me know if you want me to draft something or if you wanna do no comment.

Thanks,

Kate

Nisha taps on the attachment. They’re low lit photos of Kendall out at different clubs obviously high. So, he’s Logan’s puppet by day and spends his nights shoving drugs up his nose. She keeps swiping. There are so many photos it makes her stomach churn. Sometimes, he’s not out in public. He’s at an apartment building she vaguely remembers him buying. He got a good deal to flip them. She didn’t care enough to hear details. He looks terrible. 

Her hand flies up to her mouth as she takes in the next photo. He’s on a balcony with a random woman hanging all over him. How could he? She can’t even picture being with someone else. The rest of the photos are all of different women. Nameless strangers. Pressed up against him with his hand lost in their hair or all over the back of their jeans. This is being published? Everyone’s going to see this. Everyone’s going to know. All of her family. All of her friends. Gossip-loving idiots on the internet. The whole world. She’s going to throw up. She rushes to the railing of the porch and heaves over the side. Nothing comes up. The tears are hot running down her face. She’s never been more humiliated. Kendall is many things, but he’s never been unfaithful. She knows that. It’s something he deeply hated about Logan. Why is he doing this? Does he even care about her? Did he ever? She hasn’t even filed for divorce yet and he’s letting these women into his bed. He made her a fool—again. She’s absolutely furious. It’s like he doesn’t care about anything anymore. She’s so upset she doesn’t hear the sliding door open. 

“Oh, beti.” 

Nisha spins around and sees her mother holding the tablet.  Her striking brown eyes fill with tears and her chiseled face colors with worry. 

“Oh, Mom, I didn’t—I’m so sorry. I didn’t want you to know about this. I know how bad this makes us look. I’ll fix it. I’ll—“

Sarita throws her arms around her daughter and pulls her into a hug.

“You are a wonderful mother and a committed wife. If this is how he treats you, you have every right to be done with him.” She holds her tighter. “Better you learn that now.”

Nisha steps back and wipes her eyes. She nods. They never have conversations like this. 

“Why don’t you take a rest upstairs?” Gita tilts her head. “Arjun and I will watch the children.”

“Um—“

“I will get you when your brothers arrive, yes?”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

Gita guides her to the guest room and pulls down the shades. Nisha lays on the bed and her mother hands her a throw. 

“Thank you…Mom.”

“Nisha…sentiment…I wasn’t raised with it. But you have done your part many times over. He failed you and that does not mean you failed.”

The tears burn in Nisha’s eyes again. Her throat closes up, so all she can do is nod. Gita shuts the door. Nisha’s eyelids close so fast she doesn’t even realize she’s asleep until her mom wakes her. Ramesh and Kapil are outside, smoking. 

“Hey, Nish—“ Kapil starts.

“I’m sure she told you. I don’t wanna talk about it. Ram, did Stewy reach out?”

Ramesh turns to her and takes a drag of his cigarette. He nods and exhales.

“Says Sandy is interested in her our stock.”

“Hmm.” Nisha sits at the table. “So, are we still on their side or are we defecting?” 

“Whatever team destroys Logan,” Ramesh smirks. 

“But Sophie and Iverson. A public move against Logan—“

“We will always take care of them.” Ramesh passes his cigarette off to Kapil who takes it. 

“Your email,” Kapil starts, “this it or did you have something else?”

“Finish your cigarette.” Nisha looks up at him. 

“Are we putting a hit out on Kendall?” He leans forward and stubs it out on the ashtray. 

Nisha sighs. Ramesh fails to read her expression and looks at Kapil who is quite literally on the edge of his seat. 

“Logan offered me a board seat. Yesterday.”

“Holy fuck.” Kapil’s eyes grow wide.

“I think Ram should take it.” Nisha folds her hands in front of her on the table. Logan’s just looking for a diversity pick and a way to placate them. 

“His brain would explode.” Ramesh chuckles. “You should take it.”

“I don’t want it. But if we go for Stewy and Sandy, I definitely can’t take it.”

“Not necessarily.” Kapil shrugs, surprising both of his siblings. “Just means we have 2% and a board seat.” 

Nisha almost laughs and Ramesh hits him on the shoulder, smiling.

“Bloody devious, Kap.”

“You’ve said it enough fucking times. It finally stuck. Best deal for the family.”

Nisha crosses her legs and looks at her brothers.

“Kapil should take it. He’s not married to anyone on the board. No conflict of interest. Logan barely knows him. He won’t be able to play him.” Nisha smirks.

“Look at Lady Macbeth.” Ramesh smiles and she simply raises her eyebrows. “Sounds like a plan. Take the board seat and vote for the option that serves us.” 

She felt so alone a few hours ago, but she knows she’s not. They are her family.b

[lihammulakaysisa]

Not a story ...

Hoy move on December 5, 2013 at 12:08am My first blog yey! Hoy! Move on na

Move on na daw. Well there's a lot of us been through to this. Maybe meron nga sigurong iba jan na still on this process. I think this is one of the hardest thing to do for some, don't you think? Ibig ko lang sabihin diyan may iilan pa ring tao na parang pagkain lang ng mani ang pag-momove on. Kung baga sila yung mga taong ang bilis matanggap yung mga bagay bagay. But then before we go to much deeper about the topic. Lets define kung ano ba talaga ang meaning ng move on or moving on. Well according to the information I gathered moving on or move on is an action word which means to pass from one place or position to another. So there, from the word itself moving on. Siguro naman na gets niyo na yun. I know you have your own understanding with that words. So now why am I even wasting my time doing this? Hahaha! Seriously, I really don't know. Maybe it's because those words keep popping on my mind.

  Anyway, my own perspective, sa sarili kong pananaw. Moving on is a process that you need to do when you think you're not growing or happy to where you at. In other words yang salitang move on hindi lang siya para sa lovelife which I know most of you thinking like that, the moment you read the title of this blog. Sa madaling salita moving on is ginagamit at pwedeng gamitin sa pang araw araw na buhay. Yun yung pananaw ko ha! Yun Lang naman yung sa tingin ko, well if don't agree with me and if you had your own opinion. I advised you to stop reading this and made your own blog. And if you really wanna know what I'm trying to explain here and if your curious kung may kabuluhan at sense ba 'tong pinagsasabi ko you are free to read it.

  So Ayon na nga. So moving on is a process nga, kasasabi ko lang di ba? When we say move on or moving on, we do this when we know things are not working or we feel that there's no point of staying to that situation. So how can you know if you need to move on. What are those things ba na need to know if we need to move on.

  Here are some few things that I think might help you. It's a five easy step. I don't know if this is accurate. I just come up to this through my own instrospection. And it's up to you if wanna try this. You can add an additional if you want.

  1. First step, you should know exactly where you are. What I mean here Let's talk about lovelife, which I know most of you wanna know. Eto yung part na dapat alam mo kung saan ka nakalugar. O kung ano ba yung position mo sa buhay na taong mahal mo. ( Kung asawa ka ba?, girlfriend/ boyfriend, best friend/ close friends, kung friends ka lang ba? O kaya classmate lang or baka naman your just the other woman or what so ever) kung wala ka sa nabanggit move on! Hanap

2. After knowing that. You should know your responsibility in response to that position you have. You might know as well yung scope and limitations nun. Taray! Parang thesis lang. Para naman malaman mo talaga yung position mo at kung hanggang saan ka lang. If yun lang maoofer ng tao but you want or need more than that. Yun na. Move on! Find someone new. Siguro naman I don't have to enumerate pa yung mga bagay na you want and you need coz you should know that to yourself. And if you don't know go research for it. Tanong mo si pareng google baka alam niya.

  3. Third, When you have your responsibility, siyempre dapat you should or must know if you're doing your job right and correctly. Maybe you think you're doing your best pero the big question is satisfied ba siya O masaya ba siya sa performance mo. Eto na yung time para malaman kung masaya ba siya or same kayo ng disposition. Try mong kamustahin yung performance level mo as partner if you're in a relationship or an your employee if you're in your career. If he/she say YES, his satisfied or happy then go to the next step. And if he/she answered NO move on na dude! At paano mo naman malalaman mga sagot jan? I don't know. Haha! Assignment mo na yan. Pero try niyong magpaevaluate. Ask someone if you're doing your job right or not.

  4. Then, after knowing his side. Now try to look on yourself. Introspection kung baga. In other words parang soul-searching. Sa madaling salita self-analysis. See if this helping you grow as a person. Kung nabago ba nito yung sarili mo. And I'm talking here is a good things ha! Dapat look for someone who can loves your worst and can bring the best of you. Not loves you because your the best and making you the worst person you could be. If that's the case matik na, move on and find someone better. Tignan mo din kung may napapala ka ba sa pinagagagawa mong yan. Kung nakikinabang ka ba, in a way na you know to yourself that your doing that responsibility because you get something from it, " tangible or intangible " man ito. For example sa work hindi ka naman magpapakahirap sa pagtrtrabaho ng walang bayad right? Naniniwala ako when it comes to any relationship. Mapa ano pa man connection niyo. There should always be law of give and take. It could be anything that you may give or offer to her/him or vice versa. Ganun din naman when we're talking about love. Hindi pwede na your doing your responsibility or your in a relationship without getting anything. Dapat nag kawang gawa ka na lang. And to make it clear I'm not talking about monetary. Pero pwede na rin. There are some chance that it happens. Aminin niyo! But that's not what I'm meant here. I'm pointing about is the feelings. Yung feelings na sinasabi ko is one thing that pushes us to do the responsibility and stay on the relationship. That's what you need to have from what your doing. Nagegets niyo? NO! Then move on hahaha! Parang ganito yan. Those feelings kasi it helps you to grow in a good way or bad way. It helping us to learn in something that we don't know yet. And that feelings includes its good side and bad side. Kasama na jan yung hatred, anger, sadness etc. bale package na yan,e. kasi diba you won't feel those negative emotions if you don't feel the positive side of it like being loved and being happy. So yang feelings na yan at some point it gives us fufillments. Siguro naman Nafeel ninyo na yun. Ano naiintindihan nyu na ba? Hindi pa din? Then it's complicated. Di ba dun yun nagsisimula? Pero eto take note. I said normal yung negative emotions but make sure in the end of the day you will have the positive feelings ha! Yun kasi yung "something" na sinasabi ko na you should get from it. At kung puro negative lang try to work on it pa rin. Pag-usapan kung maaari pero Kung puro pasakit na lang talaga. Move on na te! Lipat bahay ka na. That person not worth for you. Pareho Lang kayo magsasayang ng oras at pagod. Kasi it's not working na talaga at pag na sabi niyo na sa isa't isa na there's no point for these. Wala ng sense. You need to let go no matter how hard pa. Masakit talaga yan. Pero I assure sa una Lang yan. And remember this. To make things work for both of you, you need to make sure that both of you had mutuals feeling about it. Maybe there's an instance it medyo opposite kayo pero in the end of the story you feel and think the same like what the Banana in pajamas. ( B1: B2 naiisip mo ba yung naiisip ko? B2: oo naiisip ko yung naiisip mo B1)

  5. And last but not the least. I think this is the most important part in this step. Hahaha! It's so important that you may ignore what I said on first to fourth step. Honestly I'm not really sure about these. Anyway here's the last part. You should be happy on where you at and what you're doing. I do believe in saying that " stay if you're happy and leave if you're not". These means lang na as long as you are happy on what ever it is. Stay! In relationship kong tingin mo masaya kahit na they're taking you for granted, they're using you, niloloko ka na, nagmumukha ka ng tanga, tawag na sayo banal at kahit na kulang na Lang pagawan ka ng statwa sa pagiging martyr mo. Kung jan ka masaya gawin mo, as long as you know to your self that your not hurting anyone, then it's fine. Naniniwala naman ako ng may turning point din yang kahibangan mo. Gaano man katibay yang helmet mo sa ulo Kung paulit-ulit ka ding mauuntog masisira at masisira din yan. At once na nasira na yan yun na yung time na matatauhan ka na. Matatanong mo na sa sarili mo masaya pa ba ako? Masaya ba ako pag nasasaktan? On that point malamang sagad sagad na yang pasensya at naabot na yung sukdulan at gumana na yung ibang nerves para makapag-isip ka ng matino. Yan na yung time na you need to let go and move on.

  Kaya minsan there are some individuals na kahit sinaktan na sila physically and emotionally hindi nila binibitawan kasi sa Kabila nun masaya sila at Hindi naten sila masisisi. Marahil malakas siguro magsecrete ng emotional hormones si pituitary gland so there are some people cannot think logically or hey maybe they're attached to that person or you know they used to that and they think they're happy even though they are not. They may not know it now but eventually they will. There are a lot of possibilities why it happens. Pero in the end you will find someone something o kahit na ano pa yan that will make you happy. Tapos let go of things that cause you hurt and pain then move on. It's okay to get hurt as long as you learned from it. When you got hurt it only means that you loved. The deeper you get hurt the deeper you fall in loved. You will love then you get hurt and when you get hurt it heals then you fall in love again. It's a cycle you just need to be careful and wise. Never forget your self. There's a lot of happiness in this world. You just need to determine what makes you happy.

  I know some people think there is no true happiness, well I don't think so. I think there is. And you know where you can find it? True happiness is hiding behind the word "CONTENTMENT". And for you to find that you need to MOVE ON until you feel contended. Then you'll see the true beauty and the perfect happiness in life.

[unloved-cadillac]

Crown Jewels. Part One.

𝖶𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌: 4.6𝗄

C/n: italics mean that it is said in Hindi. Part two tomorrow. Enjoy.

Back in 1807 India, there lived a family called the Ackerman. They were born with inhuman strength and strong intuition that many envied. The Ackermans were ones of pure luck in life. Gold, money, silk, food that tasted like they were made in heaven. They were the high class royals of India. 

The whole of India adored them. They were blessed in appearance, their skin smooth and eyes of blue jewels. Some say that the Ackerman bloodline held good luck in them meaning that if you were to marry an Ackerman, your life will be filled with riches for generations. 

Since there was such a high demand in trying to wed an Ackerman, the first son of the fourth Raja was the one many were after. Levi Ackerman. He was the epitome of a prince and every girl's dream man. They would throw themselves at him, fathers of daughters would beg him to marry them but he always said no. 

He knew all that they wanted was to live in the palace and have his family’s money and name, earning a place on the highest setting of hierarchy in society. Levi was young. A mere age of 24. He had no intention of marriage or family. His brother would carry the name for all he cared. Farlan looked a bit different from Levi. Instead of onyx hair, he had a beautiful shade of caramel. He looked like his father whereas Levi looked like their mother. Needless to say, they both were wanted throughout the kingdom. 

But Farlan was taken. His heart belonged to a girl who lived across the kingdom in a run down house by a farm. Isabel and Farlan met four years ago, when he and Levi took a ride to explore the further east of the kingdom ordered by their father. He wanted the both of them to know their home like the back of their hand if they were planning to rule it one day. 

Isabel’s brother helped Farlan in tending to the horses and he saw how she worked. Hard and happy. He liked her fiery spirit and her broad smile that he hoped one day would be aimed at him. And it did. When Levi and Farlan were about to leave, Farlan kissed her and gave her his necklace and told her to keep it or sell it. But she kept it. Their mother told the two boys that there was no rush in getting married. “I want you two to find yourselves first. Explore, be free. Because once you settle down, your family comes first.” She told them and Farlan looked at Levi who gave him a knowing look. 

Now, Farlan hoped to go and see her again since Levi was also going to see the ocean. 

However, their father fell sick. The king had been poisoned by a server and was caught by Levi. “What did you give him?! Speak, servant!” Levi shouts and the servant whimpers. “Nectar of Gold.” He says and Levi raises an eyebrow. He was about to speak but Farlan beat him to it. “I know that poison. Cheap but not any less lethal. Where’d you get it?” He asks and the servant scoffs. “Answer us or my brother will have a fun time torturing you.” Farlan advises and the servant gasps. “I made it. It took me three years but I made it. I wanted to kill your trash of a father for what he did to my family.” The servant says angrily, his blood starting to boil. Farlan looked at Levi and then back the man. “What did he do?” 

“He took our land. I had no source of income and because of it, we lost our house. My wife left me with my daughter and told me to get a job otherwise she will leave me for good. I had no choice.” The man explains and Levi sighs. “You lived in the west, didn’t you?” He asks and the man looks up and nods. “I’m sorry. The factories there were built so people like you could have jobs and learn how to make products. Why did you act so recklessly? If you waited-” “I COULDN'T WAIT! I HAD A FAMILY TO SUPPORT! MAYBE YOUR FATHER SHOULD HAVE WAITED!” The man shouts and breaks down into tears. 

Levi shakes his head and wakes up. “Now look at what you’ve done. You ruined your life by attempting to murder the king. It’s over.” Levi says and tells the guard to lock the servant up. 

“Levi. We should go see Papa.” Farlan says and Levi nods in agreement. They enter the main chambers to see their mother holding their father’s hand and the doctor checking his temperature. “He’s burning up.” The doctor says and puts a wet towel on the king's forehead. “Boys. What did you find out?” Kuchel asks and they explain the whole situation. 

“Nectar of Gold? Levi. Farlan. Can I see you for a second?” The doctor says and escorts them outside the bedroom. “What is it?” Farlan asks and the doctor clears his throat. “Nectar of Gold is a cheap yet lethal poison. Farlan you know this. There is a cure. And it’s the form of leaves. It’s dried and crushed into a powder. There’s only one place here that I know of that sells it,” he says and begins to write on a page, “Go here. And tell them that I sent you. I know the owner. Pay him and come back. Quickly now. Go.” The doctor orders them and the brothers nod and go to the stables to their horses. 

“Farlan! Levi!” A voice calls to them and they are met by their bodyguard. “Erwin. Heard of the news?” Farlan asks and Erwin nods. “I’m sorry. Your mother said that I should accompany you to the town. So whenever you’re ready, rajkumars.” He says and they mount their horses and ride out of their home and into the roads of Para. 

Farlan led while Erwin and Levi were behind him. “So Levi. How’s the search for a wife going?” Erwin asks and Levi scoffs while Farlan snickers. “I can’t say because there was no search in the first place.” Levi groans and Erwin chuckles. “Fair enough. And what about you, Farlan? How’s Isabel?” He asks and Farlan stops dead in his tracks with Levi. He turns and faces Erwin. “How did you-” “I know everything, Farlan. But don’t worry. Only I do.” Erwin assured him and Farlan heaved a breath of relief. “You better not tell anyone. Otherwise I’m gonna have to kill you.” Farlan smugly says and Erwin smiles. 

After half an hour, the three of them entered the town where everyone gawked at them. Girls screamed for the Ackerman brothers and many tried to catch their attention. Levi rolled his eyes but Farlan smiled and waved to them. Some fainted. Erwin also caught some attention and girls touched his horse and he smiled at them. But many were after Levi. 

“Levi! Levi!” “Marry me!” “I’ll give up my virginity to you!” 

Were some of the things that were said. Levi groans and Farlan laughs. “Oh come on, Levi. It’s more funny than anything else.” “But it’s annoying.” Levi says and Farlan pats his back. He looks ahead and stops. The place they arrived at was like a market. But there were houses above the market. It wasn't dirty but it wasn’t clean either. Levi’s nose wrinkled in disgusts. “We have to go on foot from here.” Farlan says and jumps off his horse. Erwin and Levi jump off too and Erwin takes the horses and keeps them in a nearby stable before coming back to the princes. 

The three of them walked in between the two aisles as Farlan talked to the people around. Levi looked at the different trinkets that the tents held and the owners bowed and offered him to take things for free, which he humbly declined. “Farlan. Where’s this place anyway?” Levi asks and Farlan shows him the piece of paper with the destination name and a few directions on it. “Herbs and Tea. I think you’ll like this place.” Farlan jokes as Levi’s eyes widen slightly. 

The day was hot as shit. So hot, Levi took off his scarf and kurta top. He wrapped the top around his waist and held his sword in his hand and the girls went crazy. 

“Oh my god. What’s that noise?” Y/n asks as she looks out the bedroom window. “Words in town that the princes are here. Wanna go see?” Her sister, Nanaba tells her while fixing her top. “Nah. You know I hate those royals. Anyway I got to go and help Papa with the shop. You can go if you like. Take Laila with you.” Y/n tells her as she goes downstairs. “Papa! Where are you?” She calls out as she puts on her apron around her punjabi. “Here!” He shouts and she walks around the counter to see her father on the floor. “What are you doing?” Y/n asks, laughing slightly. “My coin fell under there. And my hand is too big to fit.” He says and she leans down and gets the coin.  “This one?” She asks as she holds the coin in between her pointer and thumb. Her father laughs and kisses her forehead. “What would I do without you?” He asks rhetorically and Y/n wakes up. “I don’t know, honestly. Come on. We have to peel the fruit.” She says as she takes the freshly picked fruits and lays them on their table. 

“My god. Are we there?” Levi asks and Farlan smiles. “Yeah. It’s the tent with the green cover over it.” Farlan says and points. Levi looks around and sees a little girl walk up to him. She had a pink shirt on with brown shorts and her black hair was all messed up. But she looked adorable. “Wevi?” She calls his name and he goes onto his knee, internally screaming at the dirt. “Yes, brat?” He asks and she giggles. She pulls out a flower from behind her back and gives it to him. He looks at it and takes it. It’s a little wilted but it’s the thought that counts. “Thank you.” He says and she smiles. “You’re wewcome.” Levi wakes up and ruffles her hair and goes back to Farlan and Erwin. The village is in awe of the first born prince and Farlan pats his shoulder. 

Farlan and Levi walk up to the little shop while Erwin stands guard outside. Farlan looked around and cleared his throat. “Excuse me? Anyone here?” His kind voice rings through the shop and an old man wakes up from the floor. “Oh hello there. Sorry for the wait. Stupid cupboards need working on. How may I help you today?” He asks while putting on his glasses. Once he did and looked back up to the young gentlemen in front of him, he instantly recognized them. “Oh! Farlan Ackerman. And Levi Ackerman. Your majesty.” He bows and Farlan wakes him up. “Please. Just Farlan and Levi. We are in great need of your help, sir.” Farlan says kindly and the man nods. “Yes. Yes of course. One minute, Farlan.” He turns and looks around. “Y/N! Come here!” He screams for his daughter and Levi looks around as Farlan sorts it out. There were many teas here, all flavors that he hadn’t tried before. And it smelled divine. “Papa! What is it? I just got the leaves to boil and-” she walks in as she was setting her hair but stops immediately as soon as she sees the customers. Her and Levi’s eyes met and everything disappeared. 

Something sparked. Something passed between them and they both felt it. “Y/n?” Y/n blinks and breaks eye contact with Levi and turns to her father. “The princes are in need of help.” He tells her and she nods. Y/n looked at Farlan who had a kind smile on his face. “Hello, Ms Y/n. I’m Farlan Ackerman. This is Levi. We need certain leaves that we know you store.” He tells her and she switches her gaze in between the brothers. But leaving her gaze a few seconds longer on the black haired one. “Y-Yes. Of course. What is it?” She asks and Farlan hands her the paper from earlier. She reads it with her father. Her and his eyes widen and Levi walks to stand next to his brother. “The king is sick from Nectar of Gold? An old poison.” The father says and Y/n nods. She looks up and sees Levi staring at her, making her a bit nervous. “Who’s your doctor?” She asks. “Doctor Akal.” Levi replies and her mouth parts slightly. “Akal?” Her father responds and Farlan nods. “He said that you would know him.” Y/n nods. “My uncle.” 

“Y/n, go get the leaves from outside. It’s the fallen leaves under the mango tree.” Her father tells her and she nods and goes outside. As she goes, she feels a presence following her and she looks behind her to see Levi there. Levi stops and looks at her as she grabs a basket. She ignores him and begins to pick up the fallen leaves. As she does, she sees a pair of hands helping her and her eyes follow up the arms until they landed on his face. Y/n hesitates to pick up more but finally stops. “O-Oh. It’s okay. I can do it. Really.” She tells him and tries to stop him from continuing. But he doesn’t stop. Instead he picked up more and she furrowed her eyebrows. “Really, rajkumar. Let me do it.” She assures and grabs his wrists. She probably forgot that he was an Ackerman, a name that carried pure strength, because he lifted his hands and pulled her on top of him. 

She gasps and her hair falls on him. Levi looks at her, with a stoic face and tucks her hair behind her ear. She quickly wakes up, takes the basket and goes back into the shop with a bright red blush on her face, leaving a cunning Levi behind smiling. 

Y/n walks to the front of the shop and prepares the leaves for departure. Farlan talks with her father as she does and Levi follows shortly after. Farlan sees his brother dusts his shirt and sees Y/n look at Levi, a bit annoyed and flustered. “Levi!” Farlan calls to him and both Y/n and Levi look up. Levi spares a quick glance at Y/n then goes to Farlan. Y/n mumbles under her breath as she crushes the leaves in a pestle and mortar. Although Levi was talking to her father and Farlan, his gaze was fixed on the young woman. How her arms flexed, the sound of her bangles jingling, her face. Everything. He never felt like this before. This feeling was so foreign to him, but he welcomed it anyway. 

Y/n felt his eyes on her. She hated it. First he pulls her into him like how a husband does to his wife when he plays with her. Y/n didn’t like royals. It’s just the whole situation of them having a power over others makes her a bit angry. Since she was the eldest daughter in her house her whole family wanted her to marry a man who had lots of money so she would have a better life than her parents to which she said, bullshit. She wanted to help her father run the business he built from scratch and hoped to stay with him and her sisters forever. 

When the packaging is done, Y/n puts it in a bag and goes to Farlan. “It should work in about two hours. Just boil it and have him sip on it. He will be okay.” She assures Farlan and Levi. Farlan takes out his pouch of gold to pay, but Y/n’s dad stops him. “No. Please. I can’t accept your money. Just take care of your father. When he heals up, that’s enough pay for me.” He tells him and Farlan smiles. He takes out four pieces of gold and places them in the man’s hand. “Please accept it. It would mean a lot to my family.” Farlan charms the man and pushes the closed fist to the man’s chest. Y/n looks down and then back up to Levi, who was already looking at her. “Thank you, Y/n.” Levi says and holds out his hand to shake. The way he said her name, it poured out like honey. Y/n looks at him and then his hand. She sighs and takes his hand and shakes it. “You’re welcome.” She says and gives him a small smile. When he lets go, Farlan bids his farewell and walks outside but Levi takes a can of tea and places the cost of it in her hand. Y/n was about to say something but he left. “Y/n. Did something happen between you two?” Her father asks and she rolls her eyes. “No.” 

When Erwin left to get the horses, Farlan looked at his brother who had a ghost of a smile on his face. “Did something happen between you and that girl?” Farlan asks. “Tch.” Was all that Levi said and mounted his horse and galloped back to the palace. “What’s with him?” Erwin asked and Farlan chuckles as he puts the antidote leaves in a satchel. “He met a girl.” 

~~~~

After going back to the palace, Doctor Akal makes the tea and gives it to the king. Kuchel spoke with her boys but Levi’s mind was far gone. He couldn’t stop thinking about Y/n. She was so beautiful and she so effortlessly caught his attention. “Levi? Earth to Levi.” He snaps out of his daydream and looks to his mother. “Yes?” “You okay? You seem dazed. Do you have a fever?” Kuchel asks as she places her hand all around his face, feeling his temperature. He pushes her hands away gently. “I’m fine, Ma.” He says and she smiles. “Okay. If you say so. You both must be tired and hungry. They just prepared some food so make sure you eat before you sleep. I’ll fill you in on Papa later.” She tells them and they both take her leave. 

Farlan sat next to Levi as he told him about the letter Isabel sent him. “She found a duck and named it Gulab. Honestly all she thinks about is food.” Farlan jokes and Levi hums in acknowledgement. He takes a sip of the tea he bought from Y/n and he almost faints. How was it that good? 

“You good, bro?” Farlan asks and Levi nods. “Try the tea.” Levi tells him and Farlan takes his cup and smells it. He takes a sip and Farlan hums. “Whoa. This is really good. Where’d you get it?” He asks and Levi looks at him. “Y/n.” Levi simply says and Farlan laughs. “You like her!” Farlan chuckles and Levi tchs. He wakes up and goes to his room and Farlan looks at their dog who was salivating at the food in front of Farlan. “He didn’t deny it, Titan. Here.” Farlan gives Titan a piece of chicken. 

When night fell, Levi laid on his bed and looked up at the ceiling. His mind was clouded with the images of Y/n. How could this girl, who doesn’t even know, have his heart racing the way that it did? “Alright. That settles it.” Levi says to himself and turns off his light. Not that he would sleep, he was too excited for tomorrow. 

~~~~

After breakfast, Levi and Farlan waited to hear the news on their father. The last thing that they had heard was that he was fast asleep but his temperature returned to normal. Levi and Farlan chatted when the king entered the room. “Boys.” He says and Levi wakes up with Farlan. “Papa.” Farlan says and walks to him and gives him a strong, bear hug. “Oh! Farlan.” The king chuckles and Farlan pulls away. “We were so worried about you. Are you okay?” He asks and the ki ruffles Farlan’s hair. “Yes. Thanks to the both of you.” He says and looks at Levi who nodded. “Glad to see you’re up, old man.” Levi retorts and the king snickers. “Thank you, Levi. You both saved my life and I’m proud to call you my boys. And to return the favor, the both of you can ask me for whatever you want. Anything at all.” The kings tells them and Farlan and Levi give each other a look. Levi gave Farlan a curt nod and Farlan smiled. He turned and looked at his father. 

“I want to get married.” 

Farlan says and the king with Kuchel gasps softly. “Really?” The king asks and Farlan nods. “Okay. We need to send a notice to the kingdom and-“ “No, Papa. I have a girl already.” Farlan interrupts and the king tilts his head. “You have a girl?! Why didn’t you tell us?!” Kuchel pinches his ear making Farlan chuckle. “It’s not that big of a deal, Ma. But yes. She’s amazing and funny and kind. A little wild but tolerable. A pain but I wouldn’t prefer her any other way.” Farlan tells his parents about the girl who got his heart while Levi looked out the window. He had to see Y/n soon. 

“So when can we meet this ‘Isabel’?” Kuchel asks with a smile. “Hopefully at the end of the week. I have to propose to her first. So I’m going to stay with her for this week. If that’s okay?” He looks to his father and he nods. “Come home with our daughter-in-law. Luckily, friday is Holi so she can come home and stay with us.” He says and puts a hand on Farlan’s shoulder. Levi smiled softly and walked to his brother. “Let’s go.” “You’re going too, Levi?” Kuchel asks and he shakes his head. “I’ll just drop him off. I got some other stuff I need to attend to.” He says a ghost of a smile fills his face. 

“Where exactly are you going , Levi?” Farlan teasingly asks as he puts his belongings in the bags of his horse. “Don't make me say it, Farlan.” Levi responds and Farlan chuckles. “Alright. Don't scare her off.” He says, earning a glare from Levi. The duo rode out of their palace and Levi separated with Farlan at the road that led east. “See ya, Levi!” Farlan screams and Levi waves. “Bye.” Levi responds and turns back to ride to the girl who made some good ass tea. 

~~~~

“Didi! Here’s the pots you asked for!” Nanaba says as she places them on the counter by Y/n. “Thanks, Nana.” Y/n says as she takes the pots and places them in the cupboards. “Did you meet any princes yesterday?” Nanaba asks as she leans against the counter, folding her arms. Y/n stops for a second and looks at her sister. “No.” Y/n simply says and Nanaba chuckles. “You suck at lying, Didi. Papa told me. You and that eldest Ackerman shared quite a look with each other or so I’ve been told.” Nanaba teases and Y/n groans. “Look, Nana. I’m not interested in him. Or anyone matter of fact. There’s so much things that I need to do and Papa needs help in running the shop. I can’t just leave here and run off to get married.” Y/n explains and sighs, placing her hands on the counter. Nanaba leans closer to her and slaps her arm. “I didn’t say anything about you being interested in him or marriage.” Nanaba winks at Y/n and she scoffs. Did she really fall for someone who she didn't even know? And a royal, nonetheless. Y/n took a pot and walked to the front of the shop. She had to prepare all of the celebratory powders and colours for Holi. as she lifts her head from the pot, she gasps. 

“You?” 

She says and Levi turns from where he was looking at the tea. “Me.” he responds and she sighs annoyingly. “What are you doing here?” she asks and Levi walks slowly towards her, while looking at various things. “You.” he says and looks at her. Y/n scoffs and continues to mix the colours. “What do you mean “me”?” she asks and he stands in front of her. “Exactly what it means. You.” Levi responds and he looks at the various coloured powders. Pink, blue, purple, yellow, green and red. “Preparing for Holi?” he asks and she lifts her head with a face that said ‘obviously’. He licked his lips and sat on a nearby chair while he watched her. 

Silence fell upon the both of them. The only sounds that could be heard was the chatter of people from outside and the clanking of pots as Y/n moved it. She looked at Levi who looked around the shop and Y/n rolled her eyes. “Forgive me, rajkumar. I-” “Levi.” he cuts her off and she looks at him. “Call me Levi.” he says and she exhales a breath. “Levi. Why are you here? Is your dad still sick?” she asks him and he shakes his head. “No. as a matter of fact, he’s perfectly okay. Better actually. And it's all thanks to you.” Levi responds as he wakes up and stands in front of her. Y/n stepped back a little when he did, and he frowned at the action.

 “Uh, I, it’s because of the leaves. I didn't do anything.” she says and he leans back up. “You did. You took the leaves, crushed it for us which we could’ve done by ourselves and told us what to do. You could have easily denied serving us but you didn't. And I'm grateful for that.” Levi replies and Y/n blinks, a bit dazed out by his voice. It was so smooth and deep and, now that he was so close to her, his skin was smooth like butter and it glowed. His face was so sculptured that you could tell that the gods above took special attention to him. Y/n stuttered over her words as he closed the distance between them. “I like the way you prepare the tea leaves, Y/n.” he whispers as his gaze jumps back and forth from her eyes to her lips. “Yeah?” she asks and he nods. As they both were about to lean towards each other, another party entered the room. 

“Didi. Where’s the-oh.” Nanaba interferes and Y/n pushes Levi’s chest to put some distance between them. “What is it, Nana?” Y/n asks while Levi looks at Y/n, smirking a bit. “I just needed the cloth.” Nanaba saya and holds the cloth, waving it a little. She looks to Levi and bows. “Rajkumar.” she greets and Levi nods. “Hi.” he simply says back and Nanaba smiles at her sister. “I’ll just-yeah-uh, go? Yeah I’m going.” she stutters and winks at Y/n, who rolls her eyes. Levi chuckled and faced Y/n again. Her eyes meet him and she tilts her head. “What?” she asks and he shakes head. “Come with me.” he says, nonchalantly. “Huh? Where?” she asks and he tucks her hair behind her ear. “Serendipity.”

———————————————————————

“I was highly inspired by a shit ton of Hindi movies.”

𝑻𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔:

>Raja: king.

>Rajkumar: prince.

>Gulab: an Indian sweetmeat. Super tasty.

🖤🤍Thanks for reading🤍🖤

-Caddy.

[mcjoelcain]

How to set SMART Goals (and win BIG this year)

Let’s be honest: people suck at goal setting.

Even when we really want to do something, we have a hard time achieving it.

(Need proof? Just consider that the vast majority of New Year’s resolutions fail by February.)

But, it’s not our fault. Nobody teaches us how to really achieve what we set out to do. They don’t teach us how to make smart objectives.

That’s because the problem with how you set goals is that they rely too much on human willpower — which we have a very finite amount of each day. Relying on it all the time takes away from that willpower until it’s depleted entirely.

Fortunately, there are other ways to set goals so that you can actually achieve them.

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Examples of turning bad goals to good goals

EXAMPLE #1: HEALTH

TERRIBLE GOAL: “I want to get fit.”

BAD GOAL: “I want to lose 10lbs.”

GOOD GOAL: “I want to eat 3 healthy meals per week and go to the gym 2x/week for 15 minutes.”

Notice how we’re focusing on the process at first, and starting off conservative: Anyone can eat just 3 healthy meals in a week. And anyone can go to the gym for 15 minutes. Set yourself up to win.

The next step is to make it easy: on your calendar, set 1 hour on Sundays to buy 3 healthy meals and leave them in your fridge, packed and ready to eat. Also set two 1-hour slots for the gym (leaving time for travel).

Here’s how this looks for other big goals:

EXAMPLE #2: FINANCES

TERRIBLE GOAL: “I need to get better with money.”

BAD GOAL: “I want to save $1,000 this year.”

GOOD GOAL: “I want to have $40 per paycheck automatically transferred to my vacation savings fund for 1 year.”

EXAMPLE #3: SOCIAL SKILLS

TERRIBLE GOAL: “I want to have better social skills.”

BAD GOAL: “I want to work on my storytelling so I’m not so awkward at parties.”

GOOD GOAL: “I want to take the improv class in my city every Monday night for 6 weeks.”

There’s a simple formula for transforming big goals into actionable steps…

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What are SMART goals?

SMART goals are the cure for vague, aimless New Year’s resolution goals like:

“I want to go to the gym every day.”

“I want to get rich.”

“I want to travel more.”

On the surface, they all seem like good goals. However, they fall prey to the big three sins of goal-setting:

They unspecific. Sure, you “want to travel more,” but what does that really mean? When are you going to get it done? Where are you going to go? Vagueness is the enemy of good goal-setting.

They’re unrealistic. Oh, so you want to “get rich” this year? Are you willing to put in the hard work and sweat equity it’ll take to negotiate a raise, find a higher-paying job, or start a side hustle? Most likely not.

They’re based on willpower — not systems. Human willpower is limited. Sure, you might start out going to the gym every day, but as time goes on you’ll have to use the finite amount of willpower you have to keep it up. Eventually, you abandon the goal altogether.

Setting a SMART goal will help you avoid all of these pitfalls. Let’s breakdown how to do it.

SMART Objectives are:

Specific

Measurable

Attainable

Relevant

Time-oriented

So how do you convert a goal like “get fit” into a SMART objective?

I created this checklist to use every time you have a new goal.

Checklist for writing a SMART Objective

Specific: What is the precise outcome I’m looking for?

What will you achieve?

What does it look like? (What do you see in your mind when you picture yourself working towards your goal?)

What is the action step?

Measurable: How will I know I’ve accomplished the goal?

How will you know if you’ve reached your goal or not? There are different levels of “healthy” or “financially sound.” Avoid words that may have vague meanings like, “learn” or “feel” since you can’t measure them. Instead, use action verbs like “run,” “save,” or “write.” Then, turn those words into quantifiable benchmarks.

You need to be able to answer the question, “Did I get it done? If not, how much further do I have to go?”

How will you know when it is done?

What are some objective benchmarks you can hit along the way?

Would someone else be able to tell that it’s complete?

Is it quantifiable?

Attainable: How realistic is this goal?

My mentor BJ Fogg talks a lot about Tiny Habits — little things that start us on the path to success. The best way to achieve a goal is not to rely on motivation, but instead make it ridiculously easy for your future self to do the right thing. Instead of committing to running 5 days a week, start with one day and move up from there.

Are there available resources to achieve the objective?

Do you need a gym membership, a new bank account, new clothes?

Am I set up to do this even when I don’t have “motivation”?

Are there any time or money constraints that need to be considered? Am I being too ambitious to start out? (Remember you can always be more aggressive with your goal later on.)

Relevant: Is this a priority in my life right now?

Ask yourself, in the scheme of all the things you want to try, do you really care about this? When I went to my cousin’s wedding in India a few years ago, I saw one of my friends order his food in fluent Hindi, and I thought, “Hmmmm…I should take Hindi lessons.” But when I got back to NYC, I put it on my to-do list, only to skip over it for MONTHS. The truth is, I really didn’t care enough to try and learn Hindi. It wasn’t important enough. When I acknowledged I wasn’t going to do it and crossed it off my list, it freed me up to focus on doing the things that I really wanted to do.

Why am I doing this?

Is this a priority for me?

Will it compete with other goals in my life?

Time-oriented: When will I be finished with the goal?

Give yourself a deadline to reassess your goal. And put it on the calendar! I like to re-evaluate my goals every 3-months to make sure they are still Attainable and Relevant.

Is there a deadline?

Did I put it on the calendar?

Will I know in 3 months if I’m on the right track?

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SMART Goal Examples

Using this framework, you’ll be able to turn any vague lofty goal into an actionable SMART goal.

For instance:

Bad goal: “I want to be healthier.”

Why it’s bad: It’s vague and not measurable. How do you know when you’re healthier?

SMART goal: “I want to eat three low-fat, low-calorie meals per week and go to the gym at least once a week.”

Why it’s good: Now you have an actionable system with solid metrics to help you see if you’re on track. You’re not just getting healthier. You’re eating three healthy meals and going to the gym each week.

Now do the same for your goal. How can you make it specific, measurable, attainable, realistic, and time-oriented?

Actually achieve your goals with habit loops

Once you’ve set a SMART goal, habits are the systematized solution to making sure you follow through and actually achieve your goal.

According to Charles Duhigg, habit expert and author of The Power of Habit, every habit you build has three parts to it:

Cue. This is the trigger for a behavior.

Routine. This is the behavior in action.

Reward. This is the benefit you receive from the behavior.

Altogether, this creates something called a “Habit Loop,” which allows your habits to stick.

And at the heart of any good Habit Loop is a good reward. In fact, it might just be the most important aspect of building good habits.

That’s because it has the biggest impact on whether or not we stick with the behavior.

Let’s take a look at an example: Working out.

A typical approach to this might look like this:

You go to the gym.

You work out on the machines for 30 minutes.

You go home.

Here’s what it would look like if you implemented the Habit Loop:

Cue. You head to the gym when you wake up.

Routine. You work out at the gym.

Reward. You get a delicious breakfast when you’re done.

See the difference? One will likely result in you giving up the habit after a few weeks (or even days), while the other greatly boosts your chances because you’re rewarded for your behavior.

It subverts having to rely on willpower, because you reward yourself for achieving your goals.

THAT’S the power of a good reward.

Of course, it can work negatively for you as well. For example, smoking cigarettes.

A habitual, pack-a-day smoker is someone who has ingrained a Habit Loop that causes them to smoke cigarettes. Here’s what that Loop looks like:

Cue. You wake up, or it’s lunch time, or work just got done, or you’re stressed — most anything can be a cue for smokers.

Routine. You smoke a cigarette.

Reward. You receive a euphoric buzz from nicotine.

Luckily, rewards can be used to counteract this. For example, whenever you get the urge to smoke a cigarette you go on a walk, or listen to music, or drink a soda. Whatever healthy reward can be used to replace your routine of smoking a cigarette.

Bonus Tip: Use a Commitment Device

A commitment device is a method of locking yourself into a habit or behavior that you might otherwise not want to do.  

And there are essentially two types of commitment devices:

Positive devices. These are devices that give you a positive reward for performing different tasks. The idea is that when you associate that task with the commitment device, you create a positive feedback loop that makes it much easier to cement new habits.

For example:

Listening to your favorite podcast while you work out.

Watching a show on Netflix while you clean your living room.

Drinking your favorite soda while you’re washing your dishes.

Negative devices. These are devices where you take something away or risk having something taken away to encourage you to follow through with a behavior or habit. The idea is that you force yourself to focus on the task by taking away the thing that is preventing you from focusing, or you do something that makes you risk losing something to force you to complete your task.

For example:

Telling a friend that you’ll give them $100 if you don’t go to the gym every day for a month.

Unplugging your television so you won’t be tempted to watch it.

Throwing away all of your junk food in order to eat healthily.

While they’re called positive or negative devices, that doesn’t mean that one is better than the other! They’re just ways of describing how the commitment devices work. And whether or not you choose a positive or negative device depends entirely on your preference and what you want to achieve.  

Commitment devices are incredibly effective too. But you don’t have to take my word for it. Harvard released an article a while back penned by three doctors in behavioral economics that extolled the virtues of commitment devices.

“[Commitment devices] have been shown to help people lose weight, improve their diets, exercise more, and quit smoking,” the article says. “One randomized experiment, for example, found that access to a commitment device increased the rate at which smokers succeeded in quitting after six months by 40%.”

One effective commitment device is to use a social media scheduling dashboard like Hootsuite or Buffer to schedule an embarrassing tweet or Facebook status to be posted at a certain hour. This commitment device is good for time- or location-based goals. As long as you get to the dashboard before it posts, you can prevent it from posting.

For example, say you want to get into the habit of waking up at 6am. You could schedule a tweet to be sent out with an embarrassing message or photo of yourself at exactly 6:05am. That way, if you’re not up by 6, that message will post.

Build habits for life

To accomplish any goal, you need to establish good habits.

To help you crush any goal you set out for yourself, we want to offer you something we’ve worked on to get you there:The Ultimate Guide to Habits: Peak Performance Made Easy

In it, you’ll learn the actionable steps to crush any goal through smart habits, including:

How to set goals — the RIGHT way

How to create and implement winning keystone habits

How to make any habit last forever

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How to set SMART Goals (and win BIG this year) is a post from: I Will Teach You To Be Rich.

from Money https://www.iwillteachyoutoberich.com/blog/smart-objectives/ via http://www.rssmix.com/

[baekchelor]

𝕕𝕒𝕪𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕕𝕖𝕔𝕖𝕡𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟

pairings: George Mackay x reader genre: romantic comedy rating: pg13 synopsis: on the set of his new film, golden boy George Mackay learns a basic human truth: that the heart is deceitful above all things.

❝ have  you  ever  been  in  love? horrible  isn’t  it?  it  makes  you  so  vulnerable.  it  opens  your  chest  and  it  opens  up  your  heart  and  it  means  that  someone  can  get  inside  you  and  mess  you  up.❞                                                                                                                         ―neil  gaiman

ONE | SCRIPTS & BONDS ◄ ᴘʀᴇᴠ

The first read-through for Dharma happens three weeks later at a film studio in London. Although George allowed Daisy to sleep at his place last night, he didn't even say goodbye when he walked out on the girl deeply asleep on the wrong side of the bed. He wanted to be early as usual, and leaving coffee ready on the kitchen counter didn't fall bellow a No-Strings-Attached relationship, so he didn't bother. There are only Greta Gerwig and some staffers to greet when he's ushered into the venue.

"Y/N isn't here yet," George observes, tired blue orbs scanning the room.

"Don't worry," Alma smiles. She's already slipped a coffee cup into his hand, the way she always does in work mornings when she's well aware George is still half-asleep. The boy snickers to himself, his manager is so predictable. "She'll be here."

"She's probably still with Henry," George surmises. Y/N isn't known as The Witcher’s princess for nothing.

Alma shrugs, encouraging to slurp his Americano and mind his own business. George is well aware this chat makes him look foolish and inexplicably jealous. Thankfully, Alma gossips along, "I don't doubt for a second she may have slept with him last night. But she won't be sleeping in, I can guarantee you that." George tilts his head, asking for more in tell. Alma's red-stained lips stretch open in a yawn. "She always comes on the dot, apparently. Never early, never late."

More interested than he should, and with an amused grin, he consults the time on his phone. Nine o'clock. "Thirty more minutes, then." He places the iPhone on the table in front of him, next to his script. "Let's time her." Alma chuckles, shaking her head. George plays dumb, opting to dramatically smell his coffee before proceed and take another sip from his cup. He picks up the thick white booklet, lines already colour-coded per actor, and starts to read through it.

Dharma is set in 1857 India. Aakesh, a penniless Hindi boy —portrayed by Dev Patel, the main lead— has always known his social standing is a consequence of wrongdoing in his past life. Y/N plays Marina, a wealthy Spanish girl Aakesh believes to be his past life love and the trigger of his attempts to clean his karma. George's character becomes involved when Colonel Edmund Thorn (Michael Fassbender), concerned about the safety of his fianceé, Marina, assigns James as her personal guard. They fall in love.

Thumbing through the middle section of his script, where the plot starts to thicken, it suddenly dawns on George how much acting this movie is going to require of him. His character demands him to declare his devotion to Marina with mere gazes, words few. Still, each movement of his body vociferates a heartfelt love, deepest that any he's ever impersonated.

George closes his eyes, trying to get in character. He imagines himself having this conversation with someone he desperately loves. He pictures Daisy in his head. Her thick, ash blonde hair and smiling eyes, the pink warm of her cheeks and the heat of her mouth when he kisses her.

It feels like cheating, though, because his character is supposed to be in love with Marina, and although Daisy is a girl he enjoys spending time with, he is not in love with her.

George's sigh exits in a long, laboured stream of breath.

"Everything all right?"

The voice is sweet, with an upward lilt to it. It sounds hesitant too, but like it's trying not to be.

The boy looks up. Y/N is studying him, dark-haired and flushed, the expression on her face shy.

"Oh, hello there," George smiles, clearing his head of its haze. He rises from his seat and extends a hand. "I'm George."

"I know," she giggles, holding it. Her palm is cold, whereas George's is warm. "I'm Y/N. I really admire your work. I’m a big fan… Probably had seen all your movies."

George can't help feeling a little sheepish at that. "Thank you," he says. Their arms fall back to their sides. "Same here. Without the 'I'm Y/N' part," he jokes, and he wants to slap himself for being that lame.

"Geo’s friend is a big fan of your boyfriend," Alma quips from behind her. She's too practical to ever get star struck. "I'm Alma, by the way. Geo's manager."

Y/N smiles charmingly as she shakes Alma's hand. And George finds himself in a daze, he loves the way she behaves, how her voice sounds like and the welcoming aura she irradiates.

<< The fuck is wrong with you?>>

"Nice to meet you, Alma." She turns back to George and smiles wider. She has small, pink lips; like petals. "I can arrange a meet and greet if you'd like."

"Thank you," George says, smiling back in spite of himself.

Y/N's eyes twinkle as she coyly shrugs her shoulders. She's wearing a tight little skirt George is sure Daisy owns too. It just doesn't look as good on her as it does on the girl who's currently in front of him.

"Whoa! Look at us getting along," she cheers, eyes transformed into two crescent moons, "Must confess I came prepared to try to break the ice." She seems to check herself then, pursing her mouth and laughing all of a sudden. "Sorry, that made it sound like we're going on a blind date or something."

George laughs along because her giggles are contagious and it is kind of funny. "We kind of are? We're playing star-crossed lovers and didn't even do a chemistry test. I'm pretty much going into this thing blind."

"Aren't we?" Y/N looks like she's glad to find someone in the same boat. "I was just telling--"

"Henry" George quips. His mouth stills awkwardly over the last syllable. He's not sure why he's letting himself be so familiar with this girl when they've only just met.

Y/N doesn't seem to mind, though. "Oh, no, no," she rolls back on her heels, "Henry and I are kinda...well..."

It puts George at ease for some reason. "Oh I see," he says affably with absolutely no bite to it, and Y/N's soft smile flashes again. "You were saying?"

"I was saying," she continues, "I was telling Dev about the no chemistry test thing, and he goes:" her voice fakes a man's voice, heavy British accent and everything, "you guys don't need it. Look at you both! Would look so good together.'" Y/N shakes her head a little, chuckling as she exhales. "I wasn't sure how to react."

"My friend Dean said the same thing," a smile creeps without George's consent as he confesses Dean's mischief. Y/N lets out a soft Oh. "I guess we just, I dunno-"

"You just have natural chemistry," Greta pipes up out of nowhere. She softly squeezes Y/N's cheek fondly. "Still on time, uh? You never change."

"It's all on Vanessa," she giggles with equal fondness. Vanessa is her manager slash personal assistant. George thinks the actress relationship with Greta is reasonable since they've worked together before in a movie he can't remember the name, but she stared alongside Timotheé Chalamet.

The director strikes up a bit of small talk about Y/N's last movie, The Selection, where she and Tom Holland bring the book to life in Netflix's screens. If George remembers it correctly, Holland plays a prince and Y/N portrays a commoner who is selected to compete for the prince's heart. The movie seems a cringe, but for some weird reason, George has decided to watch it once he gets home. Hopefully, Daisy will be gone by then, and the boy would stop at the convenience store to buy beer and popcorn.

George picks up his phone. Stealthily, he checks the time. Nine thirty-five. He and Y/N have been talking for approximately five minutes.

<<On the dot>>, he thinks to himself, recalling Alma's words. Then he hears his name. "Pardon?"

Y/N is saying, "I'll go sit with Dev. Catch up with you later?"

"Yeah, of course," due to his actor demeanour George can hide the disappointment trapped between his words. He understands she has to sit with Dev, their characters interact throughout the entirety of the film. "Do what you have to do."

"Talk to you later then," she shoots him a bright smile, her pink gums gleaming inside of it.

Greta is calling for the rest of the cast to take their seats around the square actors' table. Call it luck, but Dev and Y/N's sits are right across the chair labelled Mackay. The brit places his phone back on the table and slides into his chair.

"By the way," she says, turning around again. "Do I call you, George? Or..."

"Or?" flipping back to the first page of the script, he folds the cover back neatly as he questions the girl with his eyes.

"Your manager called you Geo." Y/N returns her inquisitive gaze. "That's your nickname?"

"Sort of," George laughs. "Very few people call me that way."

"May I?"

He shrugs, "Sure." As he rubs his palm over the script, he decides, on a whim, to try something new. How James, his character, calls her: "Ms Marina."

The crinkles in the corners of Y/N's eyes make the risk worth it.

"Okay," she says, walking backwards with her hands entwined. "Let's have fun today, Geo."

"Flirty Thirty” A gleam of the eye, a quirk of the lip, and it isn't Marina talking anymore, is Y/N tittering.

The room erupts in laughter. George's laughing the hardest of all.

"Y/N," Greta scolds half-heartedly. "Don't break character."

"Sorry, G," Y/N apologizes sweetly. "I thought I would break the ice."

Somehow, George finds himself smiling.

Today marks the fourth official Dharma read-through, and the tenth time they've gone over the entire script. George gets why Y/N is antsy; he is too. He can't wait to start filming in Mumbai, to smell the air of the streets, hear the whir of traffic and fast-paced Hindi. He can't wait to feel James in his bones in every take, the character encasing him, flesh and blood.

Fact is read-throughs are boring. So d*mn repetitive. George is just glad he's got perfect girl Y/N Y/L/N around to make things bearable.

Gerwig sighs in resignation. "Let's break for lunch," she says, addressing the entire group, "Reconvene in an hour."

George catches Y/N's eye and mouths, Padella? Y/N nods vigorously, flashing two thumbs up and a bright smile. The one the boy has grown fond of.

"I'm dying," George tells her a few minutes later as they walk to the restaurant. Luckily for both, it is near the film studio.

"Same here," she agrees. "One last read-through then India, here we come!"

"But we go through the script three times each meeting," George is half-whining, half-sniggering at the way Y/N's eyes roll to the back of her head. "We'll probably take even longer than usual today because of your little adlib."

"Sorry..."

"It was fun, though." Quickly, George reaches out to ruffle the hair on the top of Y/N's head. He wants to touch her. He just doesn't know why nor how and he doesn't want to make her feel uncomfortable. He cares too much for her. "Not a lot of laughs in this love story of ours."

Y/N doesn't bother smoothing down the mess. "Can you imagine loving someone as much, Geo?"

"Uhm..." George brushes a fingertip against his own fringe. He needs to get it trimmed before they start the live shoots. "I don’t know. Their love is something out of this world.”

"Yeah," Y/N watches the movement casually. "It is."

They get to the restaurant and the waiter, who is clearly a fan of hers, greets them enthusiastically.

"You two are so good looking," she gushes, but George knows the compliment is directed at Y/N. The waiter, who's tag reads Flo, merely is trying to be polite by her use of pronouns. "You get more and more dashing every time I see you." Y/N gives her the prettiest smile, and Flo enthusiastically looks at George, beyond happy for the reaction she got out of Y/N. George would be thrilled as well if the prettiest girl at Padella smiled at him in such a way...

<<What?>>

Padella has become a familiar haunt. They'd gone after the first read-through —when George discovered Y/Ns favourite food was any type of pasta— and every read-through after that, always ordering a dish they haven't tasted before and two glasses of wine. Not exactly in keeping with the diets, but George reckons these cheat days won't hurt. He and Y/N have taken to exercising together too, fitting in the gym sessions between their Dharma meetings and other schedules.

"I gained weight when I was a teenager," Y/N admitted during one of their workouts. "I had to work out to keep the weight off. Not like you." She'd smiled her sweet, bright smile, and George could imagine her being just as likeable with double the meat on her bones.

"I grow a beer gut like that," he'd told Y/N, snapping his fingers. "So I have to work it off, too."

In record time, Flo brings their dishes, leaving a courtesy starter on the table. George grabs his fork and swirls it through the fettuccini. It makes a pleasing, gooey sound as he incorporates the Pomodoro sauce.

"Oh, right, if I may Ms Marina," George says, giggling. The actress hums in return, mixing the contents of her own plate. "Do you want to come over for dinner tomorrow? My sister is cooking carbonara, your favourite."

"Oh my god," Y/N looks up from her dish, mouth-watering at the mere thought of her favourite food. "She won't mind me crashing your dinner?"

"No," George replies, slouching over his bowl. "She asked me to invite you."

"Really?" her orbs go a little round. "Why?"

A mouthful of bolognese disappears into George's mouth with a slurp, "I might have mentioned your love for Italian food."

Y/N takes a sip of her rosé, "Won't you mind me crashing your sibling dinner?"

"Nah," he smiles. “We're friends." He swallows the food he's chewed into the side of his cheek and tries not to meet Y/N's eyes. "I kind of like hanging out with you."

"Oh," she answers instantly, so blasé, pink across her cheeks. George adores it. "I kind of like hanging out with you, too."

George glances up then, and they share a knowing smile before going back to their food. It's oily and red, a little salty. George knows he's going to have to wash his teeth and throw a box of mints into his mouth before they go back to the read-through, but he doesn't care. It's delicious.

Their comfortable silence is broken when Y/N's phone rings inside her Rebecca Minkoff’s bag. She pulls it out, glances at the screen, and gestures to George that she's going to take it outside.

"I'll be right back," she says; tongue running over her teeth. The boy nods, just as Y/N answers the call and turns.

"Hey, H," George hears her say as she pushes through the door. "What's up?"

Cavill, he thinks to himself, sucking up to another curtain of fettuccini.

Fleetingly, he wonders if he should tell Y/N to bring a date—as in Henry. But the idea is pushed to the back of his mind when Flo comes by their table to ask if they would want more wine, and it doesn't resurface, not even when Y/N strolls back in from her private call.

In her pale silk blouse and tight little skirt, the one Y/N owns too, Daisy looks every bit as gorgeous as she does in her Basic House ads. George gotta admit. Yet he feels a little itch when he looks at her, it bothers him, so he focuses his attention on the other Daisy in the room. His sister.

She's setting down a plate of sour bread on his dinner table, her hair tied back in a ponytail. Luhan watches her lazily, admiring the classy decoration of the table. It looks out of a restaurant. Much better than Padella's.

"Since when my sister's become a chef?" he says playfully. His sister giggles in response, her attention too immersed in the preparations. She wants it all to be perfect. Scratch that, more than perfect.

Only then George returns his gaze towards the other Daisy, and he notices she's staring at him, a pout on her pretty red lips.

"Why not?" she asks. George wants to roll his eyes, but he's too polite to do so. He lets her continue the tantrum, "You know I used to have a poster of Henry Cavill in my old dorm, right? The whole time I was in University?" George barely nods. "So please, please, please, please, please... Please, George. Let me meet his girlfriend, hmm?"

"No," he answers. The hurt in Daisy's green eyes confirms he's been too harsh. He reaches up to tuck a loose tendril of hair behind her ear. She lets him do it, wearing a small and sweet smile. "I'll get jealous, baby," he lies in an attempt to soften his previous words.

She laughs, hiding her face as it turns a flattering shade of crimson. She's always been flattered by stuff like this and George doesn't understand why. They're not a couple, to begin with.

"Okay," she circles the table, fingers lacing into George's as she sits on his lap. She plants a kiss against his lips, "I'll get going then. Call me later?"

"Yeah," he pecks her on the tip of her nose and her eyelashes quiver.

The moment Daisy leaves, her namesake, George's sister Daisy, pops his head from the kitchen.

"You know, Henry is my celebrity crush too," her feet express her enthusiasm in small jumps. "I'm so excited!"

"You what?" George's nostrils flare, "Why every girl I know is infatuated with him?"

The doorbell rings before George can retort any further. His eyes flick over to the wall clock on impulse. 8PM. Of course.

"She's here," Daisy smiles, hands flapping at her sides. She combs back her hair, pauses, and repeats the action two more times.

It reminds George of the time he'd run into Brad Pitt backstage at an award show in Los Angeles. He was already famous by then, but he'd still tugged at the sleeves of his tux obsessively, hoping the jacket was sitting squarely on his shoulders, right before he'd said hello.

He walks to answer the door as Daisy places the pasta on the table. Y/N's standing in the corridor with a bottle of red in one hand.

"Ms Marina," George drawls, "Is that you, in my humble home?"

Laughing, Y/N kisses both his cheeks in greeting. George chuckles, taking the wine, and suddenly, he feels his face burning hot. "On the dot, as always."

The girl blushes. At least he's not the only one.

"Come on in," George waves her through the door. "My sister is dying to meet you." He can hear the hissed Geo! like a whip slicing through the air.

Y/N snaps her knuckles, a smile pulling up evenly on both sides, "Hello, Daisy."

A demure, cotton-soft voice replies, "Hello, gorgeous. It's so nice to meet you.”

"Likewise,” the actress beams.

Save for a few bites of pancetta, the serving plates look as though they’ve been licked clean.

"That was so, so good Daisy. The best carbonara I've ever had" Y/N compliments the cook. "Thanks for letting me try it."

"Any time" she replies, looking like a kid who's just been handed a present. George smiles at her, pouring both girls another glass of wine.

The night has gone well. Being the outgoing type, Daisy wasted no time in making Y/N  feel comfortable in her brother's home. She'd seated her next to George at the table, fussing over them both as she peppered Y/N with questions about her last two projects. She'd let slip that she'd watched every season of The Tudor's and Y/N's smile had been bashful.

"I loved Henry's work," Daisy had admitted, and George couldn't help but giggle at how quickly his sister's face coloured in bright pink.

George offers Y/N the last bit of burgundy in the bottle. When the latter declines, licking at the wine-stained seam of her mouth, he pours it for himself.

"You don't have to be so formal with me," Y/N tells Daisy, her tone already fond. George can tell she likes that. "I'm a big fan of Henry too. I had the biggest crush on him before I even met him." Her face is still a little rosy. She blushes really easily, and George likes it.

“It still feels weird. Henry is your boyfriend!”

"It's totally fine. Trust me," Y/N reassures her. "We can fangirl over him as Geralt every time you want. I don't mind."

Daisy squeals.

"Okay, enough girl talk." It isn't jealousy what makes George scoff. At least that's what he tells himself. He reaches into his pocket for cigarettes. "I'm just gonna go for a smoke, okay?"

Daisy’s pretty face pinches, "I wish you'd quit. Those things are horrible for you."

"I'll just have one," he bargains, sweet as honey. He pats his belly, crafting a compact sound. "I need it. You fed me too well, sister."

Y/N sniggers and Daisy rolls her eyes. Pointedly, she asks, "Do you smoke?"

"Sometimes," Y/N answers. “But I agree, it’s nasty.”

George watches as Y/N —the traitor—agrees with his sister, "Anyways, you should come with me so I can show you around."

"You shall," Daisy encourages.

“I don’t know,” the actress murmurs but George has already hooked his fingers behind her elbow and is half-hauling her out of her seat. "C’mon, let's go."

"Fine. Lead the way, Geo."

They take the elevator down to the pool area on the fifth floor, where smoking is permitted. George puts a cigarette in his mouth, holding his lighter in front of it, so the flame ignites it.

Y/N takes a long sigh. "Daisy is great," she says quickly. "She's so much like you."

"Thanks. I guess?" George exhales, the smoke curling in a ribbon of diaphanous white. "You’re still seeing Henry, uh?"

The other smirks. "You say that like you know it for sure."

"Alma likes gossip” George licks his lips. They taste of wine and olives.

The girl shrugs. "It’s kinda..." she answers. "It's on and off."

"Oh?" George blows a few smoke rings, rounding out his mouth and flicking his tongue to create the hole in the centre. "Mind if I ask why?"

"No particular reason," Y/N rushes the answer. "I’d rather not talk about it. Sometimes it... it just doesn’t work, ya know?”

Without thinking, George makes an offer he didn't realize was on the table. "Whenever it doesn't work," he says, "you should just hang out with me," he quickly continues, a little freaked, words rushing out, "and Daisy. Me and Daisy."

Y/N laughs, just once: its all gums and perfect pearly teeth. "Do you feel sorry for me?"

"Hardly, Mrs Prettiest Face On TV," George retorts mildly. Y/N laughs again, and George can't tell if she's sarcastic or earnest. Not that it matters. "It's just you and my sister got along really well, and I–"

"Thanks," Y/N cuts in. Her eyes are particularly feline in this light, and her voice is a degree more gentle than it was before. "I'll take you up on that."

She watches him smoke in silence for a few more minutes, the night air clouding with the filmy exhaust of his cigarette. When Y/N yawns, George stubs it out. Then he loops his arm around her waist.

Unconsciously, she leans into the touch. "It's weird," she observes, "that we didn't know each other two months ago."

"Really weird," George concedes, slightly buzzed from the wine and only half-aware that something has lifted between them. "I’m glad it's two months later."

In the days leading up to India, dinner at George's become a regular thing. Every two nights, Y/N will show up with something to add to the table: wine, desserts and beer, a floury baguette wrapped in paper or a basket of fresh fruit.

Sometimes Daisy joins them, and the conversation flows like blood through veins. At around midnight, Y/N will excuse herself to give the siblings their space but not before George extracts a promise from her to work out or watch a movie the following day. (She happens to love cinema as much as him.)

Other times, when Daisy is out with her boyfriend and the other Daisy isn't smouldering George with text messages asking him to dine with her, go to the movies with her, come to the theatre to see her, bla bla bla; George will chat idly with Y/N until the wee hours of the morning. The ice in their drinks will crackle and melt, diluting their colour, as they discuss their childhood dreams and the trajectory of their careers. They recount their upward climb in show business, the slow decline of some of their peers, and the fear that they might someday be in the same boat. They joke about their management and how both companies have long given up on damage control when it comes to their love lives.

George tells her more about caring, candid Alma, and Dean, his co-star and now best friend.

"Blake and Schofield are real-life BFF's?" George’s companion asks incredulously, "I stan so hard."

In turn, Y/N confesses him Sam Mendes is her absolute favourite director, and George promises to introduce them. She also voices about Henry, their ups and downs and the fact half of their circle of friends categorize their relationship as toxic.

"Keep that to yourself," Y/N adds after a brief lull. "I've never told anyone about it."

"They won't hear it from me," George swears, taking a gulp of watered-down Pilsen. He doesn't even tell his sister.

Dharma begins its live shoots three months after the first read-through.

Y/N and George are scheduled to film in Mumbai for four weeks. Alma informs George it's likely they will extend to six due to Greta Gerwig's infamous obsessive compulsiveness. His actors often end up filming simple scenes over and over again for days, because the director doesn't think the natural light or the colour of a couch or the feeling is quite right.

"Already cleared it with the boss," Alma shares brightly. She means the head of his management, who happens to love George, as all CEOs love their biggest star.

"Fine with me," the actor says. "I don't mind staying in Mumbai a little longer." He's worked with less pleasant directors than Greta before, and a little OCD won't take the fun out of filming with Y/N.

He's pleased to discover that the other feels the same way.

"Let's press for six weeks," Y/N says as they climb into the luxury car waiting for them at the airport. She speaks in a natural tone of voice, as though there isn't a swarm of fans screaming outside the vehicle. "I had only been here once, years ago, I lived in a small city near Mumbai called Pune for almost two months.”

"How come?"

"School stuff... I can't wait to rediscover India. Have you ever been?"

"Nope," George says, sliding off his sunglasses and running a hand through his hair. "Count me in on the exploration."

The way Y/N looks at him like he's her closest person in the world right now makes George's insides warm.

ɴᴇxᴛ►

@loulouloueh​

[blackfemmecharacterdependency]

7. Things Went Wrong

Things. Went. Wrong.

Well, technically speaking, things went wrong a long time ago, but she had finally made things right, for some of her kids, for herself some nights. But, not tonight. Tonight was all white hot tears and bloodstains. 

Mistakes. Were. Made. 

Why did she have to be so arrogant? Why did she have to let the former Apex stewards know that it was them? She wanted them scared. She wanted them paranoid. She wanted them to take their prey turned predators seriously. 

Not. Like. This.

.

A white stretch limousine with gold decorum. Interior like a red carpet. A man with a nice smile and a big flashy ring on his pinky finger. Shoes that she knew were expensive, even though she had never seen them before. A woman on either side of him, dressed in all black, both of them, with white masks with blue flames on the sides of the eyes. They were scary, but the man held open his hand and offered her a piece of candy. She went to sleep shortly after she ate it.

Not. Like. This...

All Grace could see was blood, everywhere. She heard the voice, “Don’t touch him!” in her mind. Was she just supposed to leave him like that? She was pulled out of the house. She saw the pink hair flowing in front of her. Xander, running. She had to run!! Survival kicked in and gunshots continued. She jumped into the van, and it was fired upon. They got away... but so did the X. The X would live, but... “Do you think he’s dead?” she asked, it was so low she could have been talking to herself.

“I know he is,” Xander said. He burned rubber, angrily pushing on the pedal and punched the steering wheel several times, cursing.

Not like this...

.

A warehouse. There were children everywhere. They looked pretty intimidating. The ones coming in where she was coming in were different though. They looked just as scared as she felt. She looked around for the nice man with the fancy ring and expensive shoes. He was nowhere to be found. Only the women with the creepy masks. She dared to touch one of them and they looked at her with blue eyes, shadowed by black paint beneath the mask. “Where am I?” Grace wondered. The woman didn’t answer. Grace tried asking in other languages. Maybe the woman didn’t understand her… She paused and stared at Grace, then took her by the hand and led her elsewhere. 

She had no idea that she was expensive. That she could earn a ransom. A ransom that could help someone else to get away from this warehouse. Unfortunately, had she actually been allowed to go home, someone else wouldn’t have gotten away with the money she earned faking a return. So, a steward finessed her flight away and returned the girl right where she was going to be for a long time. “The best that I can do for you is to advise you to tell them what you can do. You speak 4 languages.”

“7.”

“Even better. They might see you as a better asset. You’re very pretty, but with 7 languages, you won’t just be a body.” She took off the mask and handed it to Grace. Underneath, as Grace presumed, black face paint, still shielding who she was. She left her in that room, running away with a large bag of money that Grace didn’t know was that until years later whenever she heard the story of how they tried to get her back.

But, the steward was right. 7 Languages made her valuable. She could spy, especially if she kept up with knowing them. They got her some books and stuff, to keep her brushed up. She would be sent to perform a dance, maybe other favors, and overhear things that a little girl might not necessarily know what it means, but could easily repeat, as children did things like that. 

The steward that found her tied up with a mask in her hand was ready to kill her. He had seen her in the news and she was far too famous of a lost child. He would cut his losses and get rid of her. “I can speak 7 languages,” she told him, then repeated it in Mandarin, Spanish, French, Arabic, Hindi and Bengali. “And I’ve been learning more of them,” she repeated in less fluent, a bit stammering and unsure if the words were exact in Italian, Russian, Japanese, and Portuguese. “My father is a physician whose worked all over the world and a foreign ambassador, currently. My mother…”

“You can shut up. I know who you were. Can’t believe they’d bring somebody like you in here. You’re gonna be nothing but trouble for us whenever the police start looking, or worse, somebody competent.”

“The lady with the mask said to tell you I’m a better asset than just a body.”

“Yeah…” he untied her and brought her to the bunks. “I found 148,” she heard him say. It was the first time she heard it and she didn’t realize that was supposed to be her. 

They put a number stamp in her hand, pulled her hair up into a ponytail and got her changed into a pair of pajamas that looked like little scrubs. He showed her a bunk bed with no covers and no pillow and she climbed in, tired from days of being tied up and moved around. She fell to sleep to the sound of 152 crying all night. He was a few years younger and scared shitless. 

She watched out for stewards, then went over to his bed and rubbed his belly. Her nanny did that sometimes when she wasn’t feeling well. It was the quietest and least conspicuous thing that she could think to do. The boy looked at her for the first time with big brown eyes, full of tears, but he’d stopped crying and she went back to bed. Of course, he started again, but eventually, he looked over at her, sleeping and he didn’t want to wake up the nice girl, so he tried to be a big boy.

The next day, they were all woken up, taken to a room where they were given jobs. Grace didn’t know how to do anything with her hands, so 152 was tasked with making sure she learned things. He was younger, but he seemed to be good with his hands, at least. She was a quick learner, so watching him do things helped her to learn to do them, but he still always said what he was doing. Matching the task to the action for her visually and by name. 

She would get called away sometimes, to go be nice to someone - maybe a Russian man, maybe a Cuban man… someone who might say things around her, unaware that she could understand. Every time she came back and told her steward everything that she could remember hearing, he’d be disappointed. It rarely yielded useful results… In a way, she was still just a body, in that her knowledge never seemed to help… and whenever she was dismissed back to the bunks, she would be sad and crying. She didn’t like having to be nice to those men, especially if it never helped her steward. 152 would always pick her a flower. It would be waiting in her bunk after those missions. He didn’t know what they made her do, but he knew that sometimes kids didn’t come back from going to be nice to a friend of the warehouse.

“One day, I’ll look over, and you wouldn’t have come back. The flower will just wither there, and I’ll have to try to convince myself that you escaped. But, there is no escape, is there?”

Grace sniffled, wiped her eyes and asked, “What’s your name?”

“152. You know that.”

“My name is Grace,” she said. “What’s yours?”

He frowned. “You’re not supposed to do that.”

“You’re not supposed to grow flowers on the side of the warehouse, but I’ve seen you sneak away to water them.” He gasped. “One of my functions is to pay attention to everything and report. I never tell on you, though. You try to help me out. I think… you’re a friend here. So, what’s your name? And it isn’t 152, because people don’t name their children stuff like that. That’s your asset label.”

“Heath. That’s what my parents named me. But, they’re dead, of course.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Why? All of our parents are dead.”

“Not mine.”

“Then… why are you here?”

“I left, and I haven’t been able to escape… but there is an escape, Heath. There has to be. Before I came here, I lived in a very big mansion. I travelled and slept in fancy places with blankets and pillows and warm milk and honey… It’s still out there, or something else is, and we’re gonna get there, Heath. If I make it out, I’m gonna get you out too. If you make it out… just… be sure to leave me a flower.”

“Why not get you out too?”

“I don’t know if I’d be able to escape… without thinking about them…” They looked at some of the smaller kids. 214, 227… they were practically babies, some of them. “How old are you?”

“Six.”

“I’m ten. 214 is 2, 227 is 3... I can’t leave them behind, but you wouldn’t be able to take them with you. So, remember. Save yourself. If you can, save yourself.”

“That feels wrong.”

“Everything is wrong. We aren’t meant to be here...”

.

The van pulled into the shipping yard and Grace leapt out of it to open her storage so that they could put the van inside, but Jalicia jumped out and wondered, “What happened to Heath? Why did we leave him??”

“Heath’s gone.” Xander said and drove the van into the space. 

“Gone? What do you mean gone?” She wondered.

“DID YOU NOT HEAR THE FUCKING GUNFIRE? IS THAT WHY YOU DIDN’T START THE GODDAMN VAN?” He yelled at her as he got out of the van.

“XAN!” Grace called. Xander kicked the door shut and repeatedly kicked it in, finally starting to cry. 

Jalicia shook her head, “No. He had to have gotten out of there and just went another way. He’ll regroup with us.” her lip was trembling. “He’s okay. He’s gotta be okay...”

“He’s dead, J.” He pointed to blood and something textured, some flesh on his neck and the side of his face, “This came from his head.” She backed away, losing her balance, but Grace caught her and she leaned on her to cry on her shoulder. Xander ran a hand through his hair and he put a hand on Jalicia’s back. “I’m gonna avenge him...”

“Avenge him? THAT’S why he’s dead in the first place! The two of you and your constant need for vengeance! Heath was a good person. A sweet guy who loved flowers and puppies!” She whimpered, “And me...” Xander reached for her, but she swatted his hand away. 

“J, we have to form our alibi. Especially you. You’ll be the first stop that the police make once they identify him..” She stormed off towards her car and peeled off. “She’s going to jeopardize this entire operation!”

“Xan... We lost Heath tonight. Has that not set in?”

“That’s EXACTLY why we can’t just give up. We can’t have lost Heath for nothing!” She closed the storage and she and Xander left in complete silence, save for a few sniffles and soft sobs. Grace didn’t trust Xander to be by himself, though she wouldn’t say as much. They got cleaned up, she got him into bed, and she put their clothes away to be buried. Xander fell asleep as she covered her Date Night wall with the canvas and called Simon. 

“Hello?” he answered, groggily. 

“Hey... are you busy?”

“I was asleep..”

“Sorry-”

“But I’m awake now! What do you need?”

“Do... you want to come over for tea?”

“Tonight?”

“Yeah.”

“I’d love to.”

“Xan’s here. He’s crashing in my room. But, the couch pulls out... it’s kinda late...”

“Yeah. Okay..”

She went to put the disposable items into her trunk and not too long after, Simon  was there. She opened the door and hugged herself. “Hey. Thanks for coming over. I know that I haven’t been that available lately.”

“It’s okay.” He came inside and they had tea and talked about how his urban writing project was going, how she had been lately and such. At some point, Xander came into the room, paused and stared at Simon. 

“Hey. You fell asleep kinda early, so Simon and I have been having tea for a while.” Grace batted her eyes innocently at Xander and Simon wondered if that had the same effect on the younger guy as it did on him. He grabbed a mug, poured some tea, sat at the table and got his vape. “Simon, would you say that you’ve been here maybe since around.. 8 or so?”

“I definitely left my place around Midnight,’ Simon said, casually. Xander narrowed his eyes at him. Simon smirked and turned to Grace, “But, I suppose I could say that I’ve been here since 8. Who would be asking?”

“Cops, maybe. But... we didn’t do anything wrong. There was just a misunderstanding...” Grace said, sweetly. 

“I wish we would have talked about this first,” Xander said.

Simon placed a hand on Grace’s and both she and Xander froze, staring at the small gesture. He hardly noticed as he reassured her, “We’re friends. If you need me, it doesn’t matter what for.”

She withdrew her hand and used both to collect her tea mug. Xander’s eyes were fixed on Simon. Not fondly. Something wasn’t right about him, Xander didn’t know what, but he didn’t like it and he’d already lost one of his loved ones tonight... and now he couldn’t even properly mourn, with this freaky weirdo here. Simon gathered his mug too and smiled at Xander. Xander didn’t return the gesture.

.

A lot of the youngest ones got sold off quick. Kids 214’s age - a toddler… he didn’t stand to be an asset except for being sold to someone. But, his face was plastered all over the news. He had to be hidden for a while, if not killed. Grace collected the toddler every day and changed his cloth diapers. She didn’t know how to teach potty training, but tried her best. He was like her. They were too notable by media to ever be able to go that far from the warehouse. So, she was raising him, she guessed. More and more kids came in over the next couple of years. At 4, 214 was one of the youngest, as he had been the last little that had been brought to the warehouse, because of the trouble it caused. By that time, she had a pretty solid group of friends, which were mostly younger kids that looked up to her, but when she was 12 was when she met 747. 

747 was dysfunctional from the start. He was a runaway at 9 (not that much younger than when she had runaway and not that much older than Heath was currently), but he was running from something much darker. Someone brought him there in exchange for a little cash, and he hadn’t been much help at all. In fact… he scared some of the other kids. 

He played with knives that nobody ever seemed to find whenever they went to check him and killed small animals that wondered in. Plus, he bucked against the stewards. After an exceptional beating, he spent a couple of days in his bunk, with the other kids trying to cover for him. Heath brought him flowers. He slapped Heath in the face with them and Grace stepped in.

She grabbed his wrists and pinned him to the bed, “Look. You’re pissed. I get it. I’ve been here 2 years… I think. I don’t even know. But I know this - the stewards don’t give a shit about you. All we’ve got is each other. 152 was trying to be nice to you. You owe him an apology, or I’m going to make you wish you never met us.”

She wasn’t sure if he just saw in her eyes that she meant it, or that he knew that the stewards’ violence was simply how they worked, but hers might be impassioned, or if he was simply wooed by the fact that one of the other children actually was bigger and badder than him, but he apologized to Heath and they never had a problem with him again.

That’s to say that he began to assimilate to warehouse life, mostly listening to advice from Grace and looking after the kids that seemed to matter to her. She was one of the oldest kids in the bunks and definitely the one that the steward called upon the most. 

The day that things changed, she had been dressed up to look nice. Xander and Heath were both staring at her, in lipstick and with her hair pulled up as tightly as the steward could manage. “You might as well say goodbye to her now,” the steward said. “No way that they’ll give her back looking like this…” His eyes traced her form and she shivered. Even with the mask, she could see him looking at her in that way that she didn’t like. Xander took his knife, knocked her down and began to hack at her hair. Grace screamed. Heath tried to separate them, Grace and Xander began fighting like wild animals until the stewards separated them. “What the FUCK did you do???” He grabbed Xander by the throat and began to choke him, “That’s it! That’s the last time I let you ruin business.” 

“We’re going to be late. Put him in the trunk and we’ll take him out later. We’ve gotta meet up with HER and she doesn’t like to wait.” He shoved Xander to the ground and told Grace, “Hogtie 747 and meet at the car. You and 152 get him into the trunk. I have to cancel your date and I’ll need the reason with me.” Grace nodded once and looked angrily at Xander. 

He dropped his head. “They were going to sell you tonight. Now, they aren’t.”

“But now, you’re probably gonna get killed!”

“We can’t let them kill him, Grace. He’s our friend. The Apex sticks together.”

“The Apex is bullshit that the stewards have told us to try to keep us in line.”

“Just loosely tie me and make sure I’ve got my knife,” Xander said. “And don’t worry about me. They may have created the concept of the Apex, but the Apex is made up of us, the children that stick together and look out for each other… friends…” Heath started crying. “Just put me in the damn trunk.”

Grace rode with him, in that trunk. She hadn’t secured it and knew that the stewards would presume that she had. They saw her and 152 putting him in and they heard it shut. That was as much as they needed. Whenever the car stopped and they heard the doors shut, Grace opened the trunk and climbed out, stretching her limbs, then helping Xander out. They couldn’t close it, because they didn’t want to make noise. Besides, they wanted to make it look like Xander had gotten away, not been let go.

They were in the middle of nowhere. Grace looked around, “If you just hide in that field or something, They won’t see you. The plants are too high. They won’t look for you, as they still have to finish business with HER.”

“What about you?” He asked, terrified, now that he thought about it. They would know that she let him go if she went back to the car!

“I’m going to watch and wait, see if they notice that you’re not there now. If they don’t, I’m gonna latch on to the back of the car and hop off whenever they get back to the warehouse, before they see me.”

“That would never work. This isn’t a cartoon, Grace!”

“Shhhh! Everything I say makes sense. Go hide.” The nine year old was crying, for the first time since she met him. “Cut that out.” She gave him a hug and repeated, “Hide.” He obeyed. 

She made it back and tried to find a spot to hide without being detected. She also wanted to know about this person that they were meeting with. The woman wore a mask of her own, or more accurately, a helmet. She had a long black coat, boots, and tattooed sleeves… in fact… she appeared to be covered in tattoos, even on her neck. Grace couldn’t see her face, but whenever she removed the helmet, she could see an A with a squiggly line. The woman was British, and Grace felt a certain… connection to her. That just reminded her of her mom. 

“I conduct business. Hundreds of children are currently under your stewardship, affecting said business which I have been conducting. You are supposed to be giving me things that I can use. Payment of some kind for my benevolence in not shooting you in the face and letting your assets dissolve. It has not been worth doing business and I’m afraid that I have to cut things off at the head…” With a few fluid movements, she had pulled out a long blade, swiped at his neck, put it back in her sheath, and began putting her helmet back on by the time his head fell off! The other steward looked terrified as she climbed onto her motorcycle and said, “Clear out of there. You’re finished.” She drove away and Grace watched in awe. 

This is the part that she didn’t talk about much. Not when she replayed that night… not when she thought back to it. She tried to think it happened another way. But, it didn’t. What happened was she realized that she had 747’s knife. She came from her hiding place as the second steward made a phone call and she jumped on his back, swinging the knife with the past couple of years of fury and the past few nights of fear for her date that she was expected to be sold off on. It didn’t work like the blade that woman had. In fact, it was terrible at doing what she was doing. But, she was covered in blood, and she now had a phone and two stewards’ heads. 

“Sev?” she called out. His face appeared in the tall grass and he gasped. 

“What happened?” 

“Do you know how to drive?”

“Not at all.”

“Me neither. Well, I guess we’ll have to figure it out…” She used the GPS on the phone that they had used to get to this meeting place in order to get back to the warehouse and get “their kids” out before whatever might be about to take place now that at least 2 stewards were dead.

They drove back to the warehouse, crashing into a steward as they did and she was pinned beneath the car. Grace got out, removed her mask and covered her nose and mouth. She began to try to struggle, so Xander restrained her arms. Each of them took one of the heads and they marched into the warehouse, threw them onto the floor and Grace yelled out, “Grab whatever you can and get rid of the adults. They can’t stop all of us!” 

Seeing the heads made some of the children so afraid that they just started running and screaming. Some of them started attacking the adults, as order. Some of them were chasing confused stewards from the building. The armed stewards definitely began using force, but even if some had to die today, the rest would be free. Grace was never gonna take that shit again. She took the mask off of her steward’s head, pick the head up by a handful of his hair and raised it into the sky. “APEX! Check the warehouse for anything that we can use. They’ll send in reinforcements. We’ve gotta move out, but we’ve built this place. We don’t leave here empty handed!”

152, 747 and 808 came with phones, laptops, and files from the office. Other kids came with weapons, money, drugs. “Good haul, Apex... Where’s 214?” She couldn’t find him. They had to leave without him, but she vowed to herself to come back after it was less heavy. The police were definitely headed that way. They took a van. 747 was behind the wheel and 152 at the pedals. Some of the kids followed. Some had scattered, to be picked up and maybe taken home, maybe taken away. But when they got out of the van at the field across from where the woman that Grace called The Conductor had killed the steward, they decided to regroup in that spot. 

Xander and Heath had been right next to Grace when she rose as Apex leader. They had carved A’s like the Conductor’s into the backs of their necks, using the same knife that had stabbed off a head. Grace could still remember the adrenaline and the euphoria of looking at her brethren’s smiles and them looking at her, their savior, the one who made them free.

Not. Like. This. 

They had been painting the symbol on the doors whenever they took someone. Tonight’s target had been one of the original Apex stewards who escaped the revolt. He was also one who had stomped on Xander’s belly when he was 9 to get him in line. But, most notably, he had armed guards surveilling his property, because several of his old associates had been bagged and tagged.

They didn’t see them get in, but whenever they saw them moving around and they began firing into the house at the intruders, Heath was hit almost immediately. It happened so fast that Xander was sure it was instant - that he didn’t feel a thing. Grace wanted to try to check on him, to try to take him. He was gone. Xander couldn’t lose her too. He grabbed her and dragged her out. Apex sticks together. They had to leave him behind.

Mistakes. Were. Made.

Heath should’ve stayed in the van. She let him get out because “Xan’s my bro. I have to be there for him,” and she was a softie for letting old Apex kids get the justice that satisfied them. She never should have let him. She should have told him no. That only she and Xander infiltrate and incapacitate. That’s how it always was, but she let her emotions give him a shot, and he got shot.

Things. Went. Wrong.

08. Night Cap

[phati-sari]

Hey PS I was wondering if you could give some tips on editing? I know that everyone has a slightly different process that they go through and I was really interested in knowing yours since your stories always have little to no grammatical or spelling errors! Thanks!

Hello!

I’m flattered that you would ask me!! Thank you very much for the confidence boost :)

I began a series of posts on my writing process years ago, but it felt weird to continue it. You can read it here – Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 

Editing tips were to be the next post so maybe this can be Part 4 :) Sorry about the long post -- I tried to put a cut here but it screwed up the entire post by somehow adding the read more link to the ask itself? (Tumblr is drunk?)

‘You might not write well every day, but you can always edit a bad page. You can’t edit a blank page.’ – Jodi Picoult

1. Time

No one wants to hear it, but the editing process needs time. The best thing would be to leave the piece alone for so long that when you return to it, it reads like something new. It’s not always possible but it’s undoubtedly the best thing. The term “fresh eyes” applies here.

The next best thing is to take a break – a few hours or a few days – and come back to it.

2. Start big and work towards the small

Don’t focus on spelling and grammar first.

Most people find it easiest to write dialogue, so write that first.

Come back and work on plot and structure. Play around with what happens and in which order.

Then work on action and emotion (what is everyone doing or feeling while speaking?).

Once that’s done, focus on the words.

3. Be ruthless

Cut anything that’s not working. Sometimes, your first and second drafts are just warm-ups for the final thing. It sounds demoralising but I promise it helps.

4. Read the sucker out aloud

This is especially useful if you haven’t got the time to take a long break between writing and editing – you know what you meant to write and sometimes you just can’t see the errors. When we read, the brain naturally fills in gaps and auto-corrects words. It’s our pattern recognition skills coming to the forefront. Very helpful in an escape room, not so useful when editing. Reading aloud helps you hear the missing words, the repetitions, the things that just don’t sound or feel right. 

5. Check the tense and point of view

I spoke about tense changes in the second part of the series. Basically: pick a tense and POV and stick to them.

I always write in past tense, which means I have to be careful when I’m writing memories or flashbacks. I take extra care that these portions sound more ‘in the past’ than the action.

6. Less is more

Here are some things I look for while I’m editing:

Remove instances of “that” and “had”: Read a sentence, and then read it again without the “that” or “had”. If it still makes sense, get rid of the extra word. If in doubt, leave the word in.

For example:

Khushi said that she knew where Arnav’s laptop was.

Avoid sentence structures featuring “that that”.

For example:

She told him that that idea had come to her as she’d been watching a serial. She told him that she’d been watching a serial when the idea had come to her.

Remove unnecessary modifiers – find a better word: Look for words like “very”, “really”, “so”, and “quite” and replace them and the word they modify with a better word.

For example:

Arnav was so angry furious when he learned Khushi had washed his laptop with soap and water.

Look for redundant words and phrases : First (and second and third) drafts are often full of redundant words. Spotting them is a skill!

For example:

Tears fell from her eyes when Khushi realised she hadn’t helped by washing his laptop.

(Where else would tears fall from?)

I was only trying to help, Khushi thought to herself.

(You can’t think to others unless you’re telepathic.)

This is also where I’d look for someone putting down a book twice, entering or exiting a room twice, someone having three hands, that sort of thing. A common mistake I see is Khushi putting her hand on Arnav’s shoulders. She can’t put one hand on both shoulders, not unless she’s anatomically very different from what was shown in the serial.

Look for passive sentences and make them active: Passive sentences create a barrier between your reader and the actions or emotions of the characters. Sometimes this is exactly what you’re trying to do – keep them detached – but usually you want your readers right there with the characters.

For example:

The laptop was washed by Khushi. Khushi washed the laptop.

Sometimes, it’s a two step process:

The phone was picked up by Payal. Payal picked up the phone. Payal answered the phone.

That’s a personal preference – if I can say it with one word then I won’t use two:

She turned around spun to face him. He was sitting down on the bed.

This leads to an interesting problem. Just this week a reader told me that I use “such hard words to understand” and that they were “googling every minute to know the actual meaning of words”. The word in question, apparently, was “swivelled”, which I’d used instead of “turned”.

Take my advice with a huge grain of salt!!

You need cadence and rhythm: Short sentences have impact. Longer sentences help you build your world and characters. Join sentences together or break them up, see what works.

She spun to face him. He was sitting on the bed. She spun to find him sitting on the bed.

My writing style is economical. This is not always a good thing: I’m often told my updates are short :( But I’m not inclined to take 2500 words when 1800 will do.

6. Check for words/phrases you like using

I overuse “gaze” and “eyes”, I talk about the pulse too much, and I forget to talk about what people’s hands are doing. It’s a learning process.

7. Check for repeated words.

This one only stands out after multiple re-reads, but I try not to use words twice in one update. In this sentence, I used small twice and didn’t need “looking” to describe what he was doing:

Earlier, as he’d rummaged in the wardrobe looking for night clothes, a small yellow notebook had fallen between his feet with a small thud.

8. Check spelling and grammar

I’ve added “Arnav”, “Khushi”, “Jiji” and many other words to the dictionary of my computer. That way, the chance I’ll publish something with “Anrav” or “Kushi” is lowered.

Sometimes, the spelling and grammar check misses things – you’ve written then instead of the – this is where read out aloud comes in very handy. Other things, like the difference between principal and principle, are harder. Grammarly is free and works with Chrome. It picks up a lot of these things and I use it for all my stories.

9. Check your formatting

Are italics and bolding applied consistently? (I use italics for Hindi words but don’t use them for titles in Hindi)

Is everything aligned the same way?

Don’t use ellipses (…)  instead of full stops (.)

10. Change the font or the font-size

Sometimes, our eyes or brains become used to where words fall in a sentence or paragraph. If you change the font or the font-size suddenly things fall into different places and you can find the errors more easily.

I draft in Scrivener but I always paste everything into Wattpad and Tumblr as a way of checking. The difference in font-size and paragraph width (margins) of both platforms helps me pick up errors.

Thanks for asking :) I hope that helps!!

[jalebi-weds-bluetooth]

There’s More To Her #8

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A Touch of Fantasy

AR boasted one of the largest and most prestigious photo studios in India. From supermodels to millionaires - they had all been dressed and photographed here. The likes of Vogue and Harper’s Bazaar often graced their covers on shoots held in this space. So nothing should have fazed Arnav Singh Raizada about the beauty and potential of the studio he owned.

Except this was the second time his heart skipped a beat. The first time, it had nothing to do with the studio - it was all about a woman dressed in a gossamer, scarlet red saree.

The lights were dimmed to mimic moonlight. Tall trees, with fairy lights for leaves, twinkled in the darkness. Translucent, stone studded drapes hung, filtering and reflecting the lights on their crystals. At the center was a white table, with matching chairs. There was a small candle, silver cutlery on the table and a few white roses scattered around the studio.

An artificial pond was constructed on both sides of the seating, with hundred floating candles, bathing the entire room in a soft, warm glow. Akash didn’t realise when Payal held his hand. They walked into the studio, in a trance, half in love with the beauty of everything and with each other.

The blue light, golden candles, transparent crystal studded drapes, Payal’s purple salwar and Akash’s white suit was aesthetically… perfect.

Khushi thought of all of this? Arnav turned to her, but was rendered speechless by her soft smile.

“Thank you Arnav ji, Aman ji had told me that you strictly instructed money not to be taken into account for Jiji’s first date-” Khushi’s breath hitched and smile fell at the intensity of his dark gaze. Many nights ago, he had looked at her in the exact manner. No, he couldn’t look at her like this. Not now, not when it was impossible.

“Khushi!” Arnav and Khushi snapped out of their eyelock as Payal ran and grabbed Khushi in her arms, swinging her in excitement.

“Why… you didn’t have to work so hard? When did you find the time? Khushi you shouldn’t have!” Payal fretted but couldn’t stop smiling. Khushi laughed and jumped in equal fervor.

“Offo Jiji, first tell me whether you like it or not.” Khushi asked.

“Like it? Khushi ji this is beyond what either of us expected!” Akash, finally finding words and Payal’s hand, told Khushi.

“Exactly, it’s as if we have-” Payal began, “-entered a fantasy.” Akash completed. Payal and Akash looked at each other, and immediately looked away, blush creeping up their cheeks.

“Alright, it’s our time to go.” Arnav said. No matter how enchanted he was by the setup, another minute of Akash and Payal’s romance would send him to the hospital for blood sugar - even if he wasn’t diagnosed with diabetes.

Khushi, on the other hand, scowled at the interruption. She wanted to sit and watch the entire exchange. Nothing interested her more than romance. In reality. Or on television. Or both - Kamlesh Tha Khabri Ab Pandit Ji, a show where her favorite news anchor married brides and grooms across the country was her current obsession.

“No really Khushi ji, this is very… very…” Akash cracked a wide toothed smile, the fashion analyst and romantic in him too satisfied by what he saw.

“Beautiful,” Arnav murmured. Khushi stiffened, noticing that Arnav wasn’t looking at the setup at all. In bringing out the best for Payal, Khushi had bared her heart and fantasies in front of the one man who quashed it all down. This was a mistake.

“You’ve nearly done better than Bhansali.” Akash brought Khushi out of her thoughts. And just like that, Khushi’s worries disappeared.

“Hey Devi Maiya! Really?” Khushi shrieked.

“Bhansali? Is he a photographer or-” Arnav frowned, the name seeming familiar.

“-arrey Sanjay Leela Bhansali! Hindi film director.”

“Of course,” Arnav muttered.

“He’s known for his grand designs. Also, he has worked with everyone - Amitabh Bachchan ji, Aishwarya ji, Shah Rukh ji, Salman ji-” Khushi gushed, “-but Akash ji, you’re quick to catch my reference. And you’re being too kind!” Akash scoffed at her humility.

“No way! It’s one thing to see a song and another to bring it to life. This is a replica of Chand Chupa-”

“Baadal Main!” Khushi shrieked, yanking a bemused Payal’s hand. If anything, Akash and Khushi’s budding friendship only made her fall faster and harder Akash.

“No, the moon does not hide. Scientifically it’s a matter of perception-” Khushi and Akash simultaneously rolled their eyes.

“They’re talking about a song in a film.” Payal clarified. Arnav had the grace not to turn red out of embarrassment.

“Yes, I was only speaking about the futility of this metaphor. Thank goodness I’ve never seen such films-” Payal signaled Arnav to stop talking. He did, after noticing Khushi gawking at him.

“You… you’ve NEVER SEEN Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam?!”

“No-” Arnav, belatedly caught Payal miming a movement of a belt buckle. What the hell? Payal wears belts? What shitty move is this? Oh shit… is this a Salman Khan film?

“And you’ve NEVER seen Chand Chupa Badal Main?” Khushi emphasized, forgetting the man in front of her refrained from almost any and every Salman Khan film.

“Chand Chupa Badal Main!” She stressed, wildly gesticulating to the entire studio. Arnav nodded negatively. Payal’s plan to rescue Arnav from Khushi’s hysteria was interrupted with Akash handing her a white rose. It was a nice interruption.

Khushi unpinned her dupatta and lifted the white translucent fabric high in the air. The faint glow of the candles and moonlight danced across her face.

“Chand Chupa-” Khushi’s smile halted at his haunted eyes. Arnav’s hand itched to pull the fabric away. Against every will, his hand rose.

“Khushi ji,” Akash said. Arnav froze and violently tucked his hand back into his pocket. Khushi dropped her dupatta like a hot coal. “Bhai has not even seen the film, so the song’s a long shot! But I have-”

It’s the precise moment Akash realized his brother was staring at him.

“I have… heard, heard about my film. During my tenth board exams, when I left for tuition classes - my friends told me about the film. I did not watch it. I did not skip classes - Bhai you know me.” Payal gripped Akash’s arm to stop his verbal diarrhea.

“Your tenth grade results suddenly make a lot of sense.” Arnav folded his arms, staring at a pale Akash.

“What are you saying Bhai?! I got ninety four percent, despite watching-” Payal pinched his arm. Khushi, if not worried about her to-be-brother-in-law’s future at the hands of his brother, would have cooed at Payal’s concern.

“-birds.” Akash croaked, “and Bhai, you were anyways miles away at Harvard. It’s not that you would’ve known-”

“Known how wonderfully talented Khushi is!” Payal interjected. Akash nodded, so quickly that Khushi was afraid his head might fall off. Seriously, what’s the big deal? It’s not that Arnav ji would kill Akash ji for watching a Salman Khan film!

Khushi opened her mouth to pacify the Laad Governor, and with one look she chose to her right to remain silent. Arnav positively glowered, and because of the dim light one wouldn’t see the smoke fuming out of his nose and ears.

“I love how pretty this is!” Payal continued, “The fairy lights, roses, moonlight, pond, table, chair, candles” Payal pointed at each element.

“Candles… Khushi, you told Aman to switch off the fire sprinklers for the studio, right?” Arnav turned to a very still Khushi.

“Khushi ji must have done that, she’s worked here before.” Akash supported her.

“Exactly,” Arnav glared at her.

“A few-” Arnav raised an eyebrow, “-hundred candles won’t cause any trouble-” Khushi whispered and at that precise moment, the fire sprinklers activated with an alarm.

The candles, studio’s decorations, Akash’s dreams, Payal’s expectations and Khushi’s plans were sufficiently doused.

---

With Payal in the washroom and Akash in the AR wardrobe, post his wise decision of bringing spare clothes for the rest, Khushi murmured a prayer as Arnav dragged her to Akash’s office.

He pushed back his wet hair and thumped an empty vase in the center of Akash’s table.

“Ar-”

“Shut up!” He stormed to his cabin and returned, a bunch of white roses in his hand. With brutal force he pushed the stems into the vase. Khushi stood in the corner, her hands folded ahead of her like a naughty child punished by a school teacher.

Arnav grumbled, the fairy light trees were- thankfully - waterproof. As Arnav bent to pick one heavy tree up, Khushi edged forward to help.

“Don’t!” He barked. She quickly resumed to her position, fidgeting with the edge of her wet dupatta.

“Fuck!” He exclaimed as none of the lights switched on. Khushi tiptoed by him and put the plug into the socket. Arnav glared at her as the lights came to life. He removed his wet coat, vest and tie and handed it to her.

“Ar-”

“Just stand here.” He ordered and rolled back his sleeves. With a swift squat he picked up two heavy trees and deposited them on the corners of Akash’s office.

“Unbelievable! You are unbelievable Khushi Kumari Gupta! THIS was your plan? Tell me, does any stupid song of yours have a rain sequence?” Arnav huffed.

“Tip tip barsa pani-” Khushi squeaked as Arnav shot her a glare, “No I mean you asked about a rain song… no of course that’s not going to come into real life! You don’t have to be upset - it’s not a Salman Khan song!” She stepped back as Arnav marched towards her, his anger rising at every statement.

“It’s Akshay ji and Raveena ji’s song. He wears a brown suit while she wears a yellow saree an-and I’m sorry!” Khushi clutched her eyes shut.

“I don’t care who’s song it is! I don’t care what they’re wearing. This is Akash’s first date with a woman he wants to marry and that’s all I care about!” Arnav growled and slapped his palm against the wall.

“I didn’t do this purposely! And it’s not just your brother’s first date - it’s also my sister’s!” Khushi jutted her chin, matching his temperament. How dare he accuse her! It was just an accident! But his eyes bored into hers, as if he believed she was intentionally capable of ruining things.

“Why is it so easy for you to believe the worst of me?” Khushi choked up. Arnav lost his grip, his palms slid off the wall, his anger replaced by confusion.

“I don’t-”

“Bhai, Payal and I got some clothes for you and Khushi ji,” Arnav and Khushi sprang away from each other.

“You’re wearing-”

“A brown suit. And I took the liberty of getting a charcoal grey one for-” Akash stopped, realising Arnav and Khushi were gawking at him.

“What happened?”

Payal had appeared, draped in a canary yellow saree.

Khushi, warily, turned to a shocked Arnav.

“You’re fucking kidding me!”

---

Glossary:

Dupatta = stole, Chaand Chupa Baadal Main = the moon hides in the clouds (a song in the film, Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam), Offo = a common expression in Hindi-Urdu speaking regions, used for expressing the feeling for something that is just too much, something like Oh My God, Oh Man!, etc., Kamlesh Tha Khabri Ab Pandit Ji = Kamlesh was a new journalist, now he’s a priest, Tip Tip Barsa Pani = water fell, drop by drop (a song in the film, Mohra). 

A/N: I hope you all liked this update. But what's important is the #BlackLivesMatter protests happening in America across the world. Let's support in any and every way we can.

Study. Support. Speak.

Love,

S

Also read it on: Wattpad