#but in the process of figuring it out i learned to write like six lines of the imagej java(???) macro scripting language!

[unopenablebox]

apparently, by happening to know that you need to preallocate arrays in matlab, i've saved my labmate like five days of simulation time

the shock of having had useful programming-related knowledge not already known to all of mankind was so enormous that i may need to lie down

[takemetomyfragiledreams]

Little excerpt from a fic I started way back and have never gotten around to finishing. I really love it though and wanted to show some of the dynamic going on between Arkham Knight!Jason and Joker Junior!Tim:

Jason stares at the corpse laid out on his doorstep. It’s as if a cat has deemed him worthy enough to bring back its kill, except Jason doesn’t even have a cat, let alone one big enough to kill and drag a man up six flights of stairs.

Really, this is just getting ridiculous. 

There’s a bloody smile painted onto the man’s face and a note taped to his chest. Jason yanks it free to glare at the neat script. 

What do you name a knight that won’t die? Sir Vivor.   

For a moment, he can’t process what he’s seeing. He flips the paper over in search of further writing, but there’s nothing. Just a stupid smiley face and that same neat handwriting staring back at him. 

Is that a threat? Up until now his mystery killer has been malevolent to Clown lovers only. Are they widening their pool?  

They know where he lives—or at least, they know of one of his safe houses. Are they watching him right now, trying to make him squirm?

He casts his gaze around, lip curled back into a bitter snarl. They’ll learn the hard way that he doesn’t squirm. Hasn’t since he was left in the Clown’s hands. 

He forces himself to keep the paper despite his desire to rip it to shreds. A solid kick is landed to the corpse’s ribs as he lets out a vicious curse. His comm crackles to life with a touch of his hand. 

“I need a body pickup,” he barks, “and a full scan of my location. Anybody suspicious found lurking around is to be detained.”

He doesn’t give time for a response. He shuts the line off with a sharp twist of his wrist before turning on his heel to stomp away, paper clutched tight in his fist. Or, at least, that’s what he tells himself to do. It’s the smart thing. There could be an ambush inside; it wouldn’t be the first time. He has better things to do than bother with some asshole’s idea of a practical joke. 

Except someone decided to wet his doorstep with blood. And Jason’s pissed. 

His leg swings up to smash his own door down in three hard kicks. He can feel the contact reverberate up his leg but it doesn’t stop him. His own alarm starts to wail before he reaches up to throw the small shrapnel bombs above the door into the kitchen and living room respectively. They go off in a shower of razor sharp metal, piercing through furniture and embedding into the walls. 

Jason pulls a gun and stalks inside. 

“Geez,” someone says from the hall leading into his bedroom. The angle was off or he would have thrown one of the bombs that way too. “If ya hate the place so much, ya could just sell it. No need to go around vandalizin’ property, yanno?” 

“Get out here,” Jason barks, “and keep your hands where I can see them, asshole. You’re lucky I didn’t blow the whole place up with you inside.” 

There’s a quiet little giggle that sends a chill down Jason’s spine. He’s trying to figure out why it sounds so familiar when a small figure steps out into the light, hands held up by his head. He’s wearing what looks like a kevlar bodysuit with an actual suit jacket overtop that looks like it’s seen better days. An arm and half of the side has been ripped off entirely, while the pants are nowhere to be seen. Thick soled boots cover his legs from slender ankles to muscled thighs. There are belts hanging from his waist and chest, connected to several different holsters. There’s a machine gun strapped to his back, what looks like a modified pistol with a silencer on his thigh and an assortment of knives on his arm. And that’s just what Jason can see. 

It’s the smile that gives it away though. Crooked and stretched around the scar tissue cutting up through his cheeks. Just like the smiles on the bodies of the Joker’s goons. 

“You,” Jason breathes, “you’re the one that’s been leaving bodies around the city.” 

“I would hardly say ‘m the only one,” comes the mild response. “You leave bodies behind almost every day.” 

“And yet you decided it was a good idea to break into one of my safe houses. Why?” 

“I wanted to meet you.”

“What?” 

He grins and gives a little wiggle of his fingers, like a mockery of a wave. “I’ve heard a lot about you. I even saw ya fly a few times, back when ya still had a shadow. I wanted t’ meet you now, to see if yer still the same.”

There’s only one shadow he could mean. It belongs to someone he’s been doing his best not to think about for months now. Instead, he focuses on the strange rise and fall of the stranger’s accent. It doesn’t sound natural. It’s as if every other sentence his brain catches up and realizes what he’s doing. Jason just can’t decide which one is the truth: the careless syllables or the posh upper crust accent. 

“Why now?” 

“I only got out recently—couldn’t come see ya, even if I tried. And then I got up ‘ere and saw those idiots dressed as clowns,” a dark look crosses his face. His smile turns sharper, more dangerous, but it doesn’t fade. “I couldn’t help myself.” 

“You were in Arkham?” 

“Something like that.” 

Jason doesn’t remember anyone like him visiting the cell he was kept in. Judging by his kills, he could’ve been on bad terms with the Clown. Then again, the Joker had run Arkham. If someone he didn’t like came in, they didn’t last very long.

Jason doesn’t lower his gun. 

“Who are you?”

For the first time, the smile disappears. His head tilts to the side like a bird. “Who am I?” He repeats. “I don’t really know.” 

Jason scoffs. “Bad place to come to find yourself, kid.” 

Another giggle raises the hairs at the back of his neck. “I lost myself a long time ago, Jason. I’m not looking anymore.” 

His name sends a chill down his twisted spine but Jason gives no outward signs of just how unsettled he is. “That doesn’t give me much of a reason to let you live.”

“No, I suppose not.” His hands drop to his sides as he moves to examine the shrapnel embedded into the wall. He pokes at a sharp edge carelessly, though his gloves hide any blood. He makes no sign of caring about the gun trained on his head. 

It’s really starting to piss Jason off. An unintimidated enemy is either stupid or has something up their sleeve. He’s not banking on stupid. 

“Tim,” he finally says, “that’s what my name was Before.”

“Tim,” Jason echoes, “get the fuck out of my house.” 

There’s a grin and a giggle and then he’s gone in a rain of smoke pellets. Jason waves it away from his face with a cough and wonders if he shouldn’t’ve just shot the bastard anyways. 

[cinnamostar]

four dates to fall in love

part one. part two. part three. part four (here). part five. part six coming soon.

pairing : hyunjin x gn!reader

summary : after a two year long unspoken hatred, hyunjin and you are forced to be costars in a romantic series, but when it comes to filming any of the romance scenes, you both utterly fail and are unable to get through your lines. the director threatens to take your roles away if you two aren't able to get past this within the next week, which spawns the genius idea from both your managers: can you learn to (fake) fall in love in seven dates and save your careers?

wc : 2.7k

cw : actor!au, enemies to lovers ?!, slowburn , not proofread, blood/knife ments (no injury, theyre just cooking lol), emotional vulnerability

a/n : welcome to part four. the slow burn is absolutely slowburning. things are happening. i dont have much to say other than it being hard for me to write, but pls let me know what you think!!!!!! likes and reblogs appreciated!

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

“It went well?” Chan exclaimed in shock over your speakerphone.

You hum in agreement, confusion in the forefront of your mind, “Surprisingly, it went better than I could have ever imagined,” a sigh escapes you, “I don’t know, it’s weird.”

“Well, the fact he even apologized caught me off guard in the first place.”

You laugh lightly, “Oh, trust me, I still am having a hard time believing it. It’s been so long of him being an asshole to me, so seeing him like this was… very different. A little scary, if I’m being honest.”

“Yet it still went well even though it was kinda weird?”

“I mean, it was really awkward at the start which was annoying, but I can’t blame him. He genuinely did look like he felt bad, so it probably was hard to be in his position,” you think aloud, “But it was getting too much and he was putting a damper on the mood, so I tried to make him more comfortable, which worked. Then we started talking, and I don’t really know how to say it, but it felt… really nice? It made me realize that maybe I did miss our friendship.”

“Well, you guys did get along really well before everything happened. To be honest, I thought there was something more going on before then,” Chan recalls, “Though, his sudden change made me realize I was way off.”

Your eyebrows furrow at Chan’s comment, “Something more? Like romantic?”

He chuckles from the other end of the line, “Yeah, I thought something was going on between you two. You guys just seemed to click really well, better than any other costar you’ve had in the past, even to this day. Lowkey thought it was going to be a Tom Holland and Zendaya moment.”

“Jesus,” you mutter, “Definitely not that, I never thought of him that way.”

“You say that, but I remember the heart eyes you used to look at him with,” he teases.

“Oh, shut up. I did not. Besides, that’s not what’s important in the present time!”

He rolls his eyes, even though you couldn’t see it, you could feel it in his tone, “Yeah, yeah, whatever you say. You’re right though, it is a difficult situation for both of you to be in. Other than it being uncomfortable, how are you feeling about it?”

You let out a heavy sigh, “I mean, part of me is happy to be able to have a normal relationship with him, but… I’m still really mad at him for how he treated me. I don’t think it’s something I can let go of yet.”

“That’s okay. You have time to process all of that, no one is rushing you.”

“I know, but for a moment yesterday, I kinda forgot about all that. I had fun with him, and I want to keep having fun, but then I remember everything and feel so… upset that I am even letting him back into my life, even if it's for a bit.”

“Huh…” Chan muddles over your words for a moment, “That is quite the dilemma. I think you have every right to be upset at him, but I also think it’s okay if you miss your friend. I just think you have to figure out what kind of boundaries you want to set for yourself then. I think you can still have a nice time with him without him earning your forgiveness just yet. He can be a surface level friend or acquaintance until he proves himself trustworthy again.”

“You’re right, but I just didn’t like how easily it slipped my mind. Part of me feels like I should still be more on guard and not as friendly, but he makes that hard too.”

“Y/N, it’ll be okay,” he reassures, “You���ll figure it out, but it’s perfectly fine for you to have fun, while still having boundaries, okay?”

You sigh, still a bit unconvinced by his words, “I guess…”

“I know it’s hard, I can’t imagine what it's like to be in your position, but I promise it will be okay.”

“I’ll believe you just this once!”

“You say that every time, but sure, just this once. Call you tomorrow, alright?”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

It was the next evening, and you were anxiously waiting in your apartment for Hyunjin to arrive. You weren’t sure how today was going to go, and the idea Changbin had for you both today made you nervous, as it felt as a far more intimate setting than the previous dates. Although, you couldn’t entirely argue with his logic. Today, he suggested that you both cooked a simple dinner with each other, the idea being that it would help you both learn how to work together towards a common goal, which was dinner in this case.

Despite you being able to understand the logic behind his idea, it was incredibly intimidating to think about having Hyunjin in your own home, especially considering the sudden change in dynamic in your relationship. Even then, you didn’t just let anyone into your home, as you only ever had your closest friends come over for small hang outs, so this was far outside of your comfort zone, but perhaps that was a good thing. Maybe going out of your comfort zone with Hyunjin would only help you both succeed the next time you found yourselves on set, and perhaps something as intimate as cooking together would help you both ease into your roles.

A knock on the door wakes you from your thoughts, prompting you to shuffle hurriedly towards the door to open it for none other than Hyunjin. He greets you with a gentle smile, bowing his head slightly as you let him in wordlessly. There is an awkwardness that hangs in the atmosphere, indicating that you both were uncomfortable with today’s plans and he, too, was likely struggling to find the right words to say.

You take a deep breath in, almost as if you were catching your breath, “Welcome to my place!” You cringe internally at yourself, unable to handle the intensity of the awkwardness between you two and how poor your attempt was to disperse it.

“It’s really nice!” he compliments, standing in place by the entrance after removing his shoes.

“Thank you,” you respond, “Uhm, just follow me, the kitchen is this way. And all the ingredients are ready for us to use, Changbin had them delivered.”

Hyunjin follows you into the kitchen, his eyes taking in every detail around him, filling him with delight to see how characteristic of you the apartment was, it being a perfect representation of your personality. “What are we making again? I don’t think Changbin filled me in.”

“Oh, we’re just making curry udon! It’s something I’ve made before and it’s not too hard. My bad, I didn’t tell Changbin what we were making which is probably why he didn’t tell you. All I did was send him an ingredient list.”

“I forgot you like cooking,” he replies as he stops in your kitchen, quickly turning to the sink to wash his hands.

You hum in response, washing your hands after him, “I think it can be relaxing, but uh, if you want you can start with chopping the carrots and potatoes? I’ll handle the onion and garlic.” Hyunjin nods and follows your orders without much trouble, or so you think, until you turn around and see him holding the knife in a very precarious and questionable manner. Your eyes widen as you rush towards, “Oh my god, that is not how you should be trying to cut a potato. Have you not chopped a veggie in your entire life?”

He smiles sheepishly, shrugging his shoulders, “Listen, I don’t do this cooking thing often,” a gentle chuckle leaving him as he takes amusement in your concern, his heart thumping over the sudden proximity you both now shared.

“I-,” you sigh with a baffled expression, “Okay, let me just show you because I am not having you accidentally bleeding out all over my counter.” 

“You’re more worried about your counters than me?”

“Shut up,” you suppress a laugh before softly whispering, “Here, just do it like this,” you reach over and lay your hands atop of his without second thought, guiding him on how to position his hands without the risk of injury. Once you’ve become aware of how your bodies are pressed up against each other from the side, you jump away in an instant, “That’s it! That’s all you gotta do.” You’re quick to avoid eye contact with him, turning towards your own cutting board as you chastise yourself for being so careless with him at that moment.

Hyunjin’s face and ears were soon dusted with a soft pink, heat rushing across his body over the interaction that seemed so natural, but manages to mutter out a quiet ‘thank you’ before trying his knife skills out once more. Despite your momentary embarrassment, you are sure to take sneaky peaks at Hyunjin to make sure he was handling himself well. You move on from chopping and turn your attention to seasoning the chicken while Hyunjin was still focused on the vegetables, going at a leisurely place which you much preferred in this case. 

The rest of cooking goes on in silence aside from the occasional instruction or question, small witty jokes, and touches that seemed to linger more than necessary, but perhaps that was your imagination. Once everything was done, you both sat across from each other, admiring the fruits of your shared labor that was now plated in front of you both. 

“It looks really good!” Hyunjin comments enthusiastically, a wide, toothy grin spreading across his face. 

“It does, right? Let’s eat!”

Neither you miss a beat, taking a huge bite of the udon noodles, letting out a delighted groan over just how flavorful the food was. “Woah,” Hyunjin groans out, surprise at how well tonight had gone thus far with the added victory of food, “Holy shit, this is so yummy.”

“Mhmm,” you mumble out between slurping noodles, “This is better than when I make it on my own.”

“It’s the Hyunjin special that you’ve been missing this whole time,” he says matter-of-factly with a smug smile.

“You’re being pretty bold for a guy who just learned how to hold a knife today,” you tease, playfully sticking your tongue out. Your eyes catch each other for a moment between your fits of giggles, time stopping for the briefest second possible before you both avert your eyes out of nerves. What was that? You thought frantically to yourself, suddenly hyper aware of the strange warmth in your stomach that was also accompanied with the feeling of your stomach dropping. It was an uncomfortable feeling, one you didn’t know how to explain or ever experienced before, but you did know you didn’t want that combination of symptoms again for whatever emotion this was. You clear your throat, taking a sip of water as if it would wash away the discomfort, “I guess we are pretty good, huh? Maybe our acting project has hope if we are able to work this well together,” you joke, a very poor, if not disastrous, attempt to alleviate the awkwardness that seemed to follow you everywhere these days.

Your words stab Hyunjin in the heart, the guilt he had once forgotten was knocking at the door of his heart, forcing itself in without his permission. His entire demeanor deflated the moment those words left your lips, his heart writhing at the reminder that the only reason this situation existed was because of him and his blinding stupidity. Yet, here you are, warmly inviting into your home and treating him as if he was an old friend of the past, as if he had never wounded you and he couldn’t help but wonder if he was deserving of any of this. He stood still, gulping down his food before faintly whispering a hushed apology.

“I’m sorry.”

Your head snaps back up, your eyebrows furrowing with worry once you sense the sadness lacing his trembling voice, his head now turned downwards as if he was trying to mask his state. Perhaps the joke was a little too soon, you thought, now it being your turn to feel bad. “Ah, Hyunjin, I’m sorry-” you apologize hurriedly, “It was just a joke, please don’t take it too seriously. I’m sorry.”

He forces a smile, waving his hand as if to tell you to not worry about it, the words at the forefront of his tongue, but caught in his throat due to the heaviness sinking in his chest. Once again, shame paralyzed his body, the warm sensation behind his eyes reminding him to blink, reminding him he shouldn’t be so selfish in his pain when he was the cause of so much discomfort. Was any of this okay? Was any of this right? He wonders to himself, still unable to find forgiveness within himself. 

“Hyunjin,” you speak tenderly, your hand reaching across the table to touch his arm, grounding him back in the present, “I promise, it’s okay.” You knew that last bit was a lie, but it was for his own sake and comfort at this point. His treatment, his behavior, his attitude – none of it was ever okay, but you decided to ignore your own feelings and prioritize his. For the first time in two years, you cared about how he felt, you finally cared how your words harmed him, when before all you ever aimed for was a strike to his heart, but today, you chose to comfort his heart that your words unintentionally wounded. Although, your own heart and conscience briefly argued for a moment, one wanting to tend to his hurt, while the other demanded you let him rot in his misery, insisting he deserved it for what he had put you through. It was a tug-of-war you weren’t enjoying, you had almost wished you two remained in your heated hatred for one another and that nothing ever changed. Despite what your mind screamed at you, you chose to listen to your heart, you chose him over yourself.

He takes a deep breath in, trying to collect himself before speaking, “I just–,” a heavy exhale escapes him, “I’m just sorry. I just feel really, really, really bad for everything, but I also feel like I’m not allowed to feel bad when I was the one to hurt you.”

His eyes met yours, the glassiness of his eyes conveying the depth of his guilt, “Oh, Hyunjin,” you whisper apologetically, “Listen, I won’t lie to you, what you did was shitty. You did hurt me, but that is in the past. You feeling bad about it means you’re a good person, right? It means you’re human and that you care, but I don’t want you to let your guilt overwhelm you either.”

It was a genuine response in a moment of sudden vulnerability, your response taking him aback, but the words temporarily placating his never ending thoughts, “I guess, but… I don’t know if I can forgive myself,” he mumbles.

“You don’t have to yet, but you can learn to eventually,” you reply, “I understand it’s hard, and even I still need more time to do that myself, but I do think you deserve to be kind to yourself.” None of that was a lie, you did truly believe he was deserving of his own compassion, but his culpability helped you see the humanity in him. The spitefulness you once knew him for nowhere to be found, but instead there was only a guilt-ridden man who carried a world of humiliation. “I think I can learn to do so soon, too. Spending time with you helps. Besides, I did miss being friends with you if I’m being honest.”

The last sentence causes him to perk up, a small, satisfied smile playing onto your lips, “Really?” he asks, his ears barely believing your words, but his heart was swelling with hope. His eyes search yours, he can’t help but notice how they glimmer under the soft lowlights of your home, and for some reason, he finds warmth and comfort in them. He knows he can trust you, he knows you are being as candor as possible.

“Really, I mean it.”

“I missed it too.”

“Well, I’ll do my best to learn to trust you again. I’ll learn to forgive you eventually, just for now, it still hurts.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll learn too.”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

taglist: @kopikokrunch @icouldntcareless22 @kidrauhlschik @hhwangsmoon @lestayzone @vixensss @cupidcures @sleepyxxhead @pinkpunkdynamite @kaiyaba taglist cut off at 20 people :)

[rosemarysage]

Hello everybody! I’m trying to compile all the information we got about Onyx storm so it's easier to find. So below I have written everything Rebecca has said at recent events that I think could be relevant to OS or the next books. I left out the stuff I didn’t think was relevant like the T.V. show and personal questions about Rebecca. The links are at the bottom. The first two are from an audio recording. Many thanks to Tumblr user Skyfallscotland for posting the audio. I haven’t been able to find recordings for the Perth show and some of the other dates from these so if you have any information from them please let me know and I can update the post. I intend to add the older interviews later but I wanted to get this one up because we got lots of juicy details from the panels.

Fourth wing and iron flame spoilers

Sydney panel 6/22/24 Saturday

She has deviated from the Synopsis she made for the series

She knows what the last scene of the series will be

We will see more of the world in OS and the following books. The map is representative of what Violet knows so it will expand as Violet learns more.

Jack Barlowe is around and serves a purpose. He likely won’t be a main character. Rebecca likes bad characters to have a reason for doing bad things. Jack has always wanted power.

The interviewer asked her not to do a redemption arc for Jack and Rebecca said “Noted”

Dain represents the love you thought you wanted when you were younger

When Dain says, “If you had just told me none of this would have happened” in the interrogation chamber he’s not just talking about the interrogation but also Liam’s death and everything else.

Violet is completely disconnected from her magic in the interrogation chamber. She can’t reach out to her dragons or Xaden. Rebecca said that Violet's mind summoned Liam because he was her protector.

The interrogation scene ending with Dain and Xaden was the driving point of the writing process. There is a scene in OS that elicits similar emotions and Rebecca said we aren’t going to like it

Q&A

Jack likely won’t have a romantic relationship. He’s also probably not “the real enemies to lovers arc”

Garrick's signet is in book three

A rider doesn’t necessarily have the same traits as their dragon's color, sometimes they have the opposite and need their dragon to counter them. Brennan is a tactician and needs unpredictably and Imogen is a wild card. The dragon rider bond is kind of like a marriage.

Her editor got her to add Andarna. She is there to balance Tairns' massive power.

Someone asked if we would hear more about the first six and Andarna and she said “Maybe” is a funny voice

Violet’s dad is not Malek.

Sgaeyl is pissed at Xaden and is not speaking to him at the moment. She also mentioned the bond between them.

Someone accidentally asked if Xaden dated the prince instead of Violet. After they figured that out she said, “I think you should read the third book”

Sydney panel 6/24/24 Monday

She deviated from the plan for OS concerning a character's death.

Jack is an example of the hunger for power and what happens when you aren’t selected for the power you think you deserve

She expected us to figure out the second signet. Her editor asked her if it needed another line to make it clear and she said no they would get it.

The Taylor songs that describe OS are Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me and So It Goes.

Someone asked,” Have you considered doing a prequel on the first six or how the empyrean came about or will this be revealed in further books?” and she skipped it

Melbourne 6/25/24

The interviewer asked, “Do we already have a reference to Onyx that will reveal the title's meaning to us” Rebecca passed

The interviewer asked if we would get another POV from Xaden or anyone else and Rebecca said that she has established a record of showing a little bit of what Xaden is thinking.

She that we have already learned Violet's second signet

The interview asked if Garrick would realize Imogen is into him and Rebecca asked what makes us think he doesn’t know

When asked if we would learn more about Father Sorrengails research about feathertails she said “Maybe” again in a funny voice

Onyx Storm is very Rep coded. She listened to So it Goes a lot while writing OS.

In the interrogation scene, she is cut off from her magic so her mind “pulls” someone who protected her

The interviewer asked if Xaden and Sgaeyl were still bonded and she said, “Next time on fourth wing”

She was asked if Xaden and Violet are endgame and she passed and then said “I write romances”

Her favorite thing about Violet in OS is that she has one goal and she doesn’t care what stands in her way.

Seattle March

Sgaeyl is pissed and not speaking to Xaden

Xaden won’t get more POVs until he quits keeping secrets. His problems with Sgaeyl will be explored externally. The interviewer said that Xaden keeps secrets about things other an Aretia and Rebecca said, “Naturally”. Violet is way better at keeping secrets in OS. She’s in her reputation era.

A lot of things were set up in Fourth Wing that didn’t come into effect in Iron Flame that will in the upcoming books.

We should expect about the same amount of Xaden’s POVs in future books, namely end chapters and bonus chapters.

Rebecca said, “There is a correlation between less and less dragons bonding  and more and more dragons saying what we are doing is wrong”

We will learn Violet’s father's name and more about him.

Xaden’s mom’s story will come up in later books.

The other three quadrants can drop out or change quadrants. Only the riders don’t allow this.

Miscellaneous

Rebecca said in an Instagram comment that she wrote a line referencing Xaden and the boys moving Violet’s armoire in OS.

Links

Sydney

https://www.tumblr.com/skyfallscotland/754271162361577472/it-took-me-far-too-long-to-realise-i-could-just

Melbourne 6/25

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=8FrFupBTVgY&pp=ygUOcmViZWNjYSB5YXJyb3M%3D

Seattle March

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=v0yTEZBtpVQ&t=6s&pp=ygUOcmViZWNjYSB5YXJyb3M%3D

[youcouldmakealife]

Stuff That Helps Me Write: Pacing (no, not that kind), and burnout avoidance

So this was supposed to be about something entirely different., but every time I started making a point, I got distracted by a second, bonus idea (ways to trick your brain when it's not cooperating with you! things I've tried (I will try everything) and what worked and didn't! what to do with writer's block!) and then start writing about that, and I've got half a dozen unrelated paragraphs going in my drafts, so I think I'm just going to make this a mini-series of 'stuff that helps me write and may also help you (or maybe they won't, I don't know, this shit's all subjective)'.

If there's anything in particular you'd like to hear about, or something about my process you're curious about, absolutely feel free to reply or shoot me an ask and I'll do my best to address them as I go.

But yeah, pacing. And more specifically, not burning out. I figured it was important I hit this one first, because I think it's the most important one, or at least, the one that makes the biggest difference.

With the caveat that I am someone who has repeatedly driven myself into burnout, I'm also someone who now knows why that is, and have been teaching myself how to, you know, not do that.

So. Here's how I, you know, don't do that.

Will preface this by again mentioning that most writing advice (and advice in general) never seemed to work for me, and I mostly thought I was just Bad at Doing Things, until I learned my brain's literally wired differently, and that I'd been trying to apply processes that didn't actually work for said wiring.

So instead, I figured out what worked for me. And what works for me isn't necessarily what will work for you, or even what will work for me a month or five years down the line, but it's going okay right now.

I'll straight up say that, contrary to all the Writing Advice, I don't write every day, and I don't think it's necessary, or even necessarily a good idea -- I have at times, but I no longer do, because if I write for more than six days straight I find the proverbial well dries up and I write less than I do had I just taken a break when I needed it.

Cognitive energy and the sort of ephemeral ~inspiration (work that's been done on a subconscious level) are fundamentally no different than physical energy: if you don't replenish it, you will run out. If you overdo it, you will run out. If you consistently overdo it without replenishing it, you will burn out.

Taking a page from hockey players here: if you did an intense workout right before a game they'd ask what the fuck was the matter with you. You need a nap and a meal and to get some stretching and light work in. Running at 100% all the time will burn you out in every single field, including this one.

That's not me saying not to run at 100% at all. I generally try to pace myself now, but if I'm really in it, and the words are coming easily, I don't stop until they stop -- I wrote just shy of 4k of later scenes for SAIT last week (my 2024 record!), all in one sititng, by hand, when I was supposed to be sleeping, because that's when the inspiration came. I didn't fall asleep until past 6am that night, and my hand is still mad at me.

But you know how much writing I got done the follow day? (None, I was busy transcribing 4k of handwriting). The rest of this week? (Not much more than that). Those bursts of energy are awesome, and honestly can make you feel like a writing god, but the well's the well, and I've learned my personal well is about 5000 words a week deep.

Before my most recent scrape with autistic burnout, which I'm still sort of climbing my way out of, that well was closer to 7500 words. But honestly, it probably wasn't; I was likely just siphoning words from future wells and then it all caught up with me when I was looking at a horizon of dry-ass wells ahead of me. (I'll admit this isn't a perfect metaphor.)

But seriously, my advice for basically everything, not just writing (and something I wish I'd learned before I hit my 30s), is 'figure out what pace you can work at sustainably'.

Please note that 'sustainably' is not 'without literally dying'. Because my literal ass thought when people said 'give it 100%' they meant, you know, 'give it 100%' (I know! absurd of me), rather than 'give the best effort you can give in this moment considering your current resources'. So I gave it my all (also interpreted that one wrong I guess?). And then I wondered why I kept hitting a wall all the time. And why, eventually, I stopped being able to climb that wall entirely.

I don't think I'm ever going to reach that 7500 word threshold again. There will be weeks I'm so inspired I write that much, but the next week I probably won't manage more than 2500. Or maybe I'll have two 7500 weeks in a row, but I'll need to take a whole week off after that, or spend several weeks working at a lower tempo while I let the well replenish itself.

I've been tracking some metrics quite closely as I sort of tweak my life into its new shape (said shape being 'do the best you can given your resources') , and during my most productive month of this year I wrote 3x as much as the worst (writing wise, I was finalising publication at the time), my current weekly average is about 4800 words. Sometimes it's a bit higher or lower, sometimes much higher or lower, but that's what I can sustainably do right now.

Frankly, I'm a little cranky about this: I know I can do more, because I did do more. But my priority now is not to send myself straight back into burnout again, so when I sprint, it's just that, rather than my previous 'trying to run a marathon at the pace of a sprinter'. I'm writing less than I used to, but it's honestly not that much less: because the pace is sustainable rather than boom and bust, I don't run myself ragged enough to desperately need a break.

I'm aware this advice only works if you have control over your own time, and a schedule that doesn't force you to focus on writing say, one day a week, or around other obligations, but the only real workaround for burnout is consistency, and that consistency cannot be your maximum.

Or, it can, but I guarantee you that will bite you in the ass at some point, and the pain of not getting enough done is nothing compared to the pain of not being able to get anything done because your nervous system threw up its hands and decided if you weren't going to listen to their clues (feelings, symptoms) or their warnings (Feelings, Symptoms) that you were overdoing it, they were going to shut your ass down until you listened.

0/10 do not recommend.

Next week: how to trick your brain into doing shit that it doesn't feel like doing, even though it's onto all your tricks by now. Or at least, how I trick mine.

[crippledcreek]

I used to see your videos on tiktok, and I'm very glad to see you here too. a fellow disabled quaker will always warm my heart.

also, as you have used a wheelchair for a little while, I wondered if you wouldn't mind giving a little wisdom to a first time buyer? I'm not sure what to avoid in manual self propelled wheelchair world

if you could offer any guidance it would be greatly appreciated <3

ahh hello hello!! thank you so much Friend <3 Love to see another disabled quaker! My first recommendation would be to see if you can get prescribed a custom manual wheelchair. This way, you can work with a physical therapist and vendor from a seating company, and they can build you something that fits your specific needs. The way this generally works in the US is that your doctor writes you a prescription for a wheelchair assessment through a local physical therapy clinic. You get measured and assessed, and then they write the order and submit it to insurance. Once insurance auth is approved, they'll order the parts of your chair, assemble it, and deliver it. This process usually takes upwards of four months, often much longer.

However, I know that getting a custom manual wheelchair is not feasible for everyone, whether that's due to insurance/cost, being undiagnosed, or having limited access locally. So if you're trying to buy a wheelchair without a prescription, and are looking to buy used or new, here's what I would look for!

Figuring out your measurements to the best of your ability is going to help you get a chair that is better fitted for you, which can help avoid injury and misuse. Keep things in mind like weight fluctuation and level of back and hip support needed.

I use a lightweight manual wheelchair with a rigid frame. This is nice because it's light enough for me to be able to load in and out of the car independently. This was the biggest consideration for me because I don't have a wheelchair accessible vehicle. Chairs with a rigid frame also maneuver quite nicely, tend to be a bit more compact, and have better feedback. They do require a lot more muscle strength and endurance than you might expect. If weakness or motor strength is an issue for you, it might be worth considering a power chair, or a power assist add on like Smoov or E-Motion Wheels.

Keep in mind the climate of the place you live. For example, I live in northern New England and our climate is quite wet and rugged. Because of that, I chose large, six inch caster wheels which makes it less likely for the front of my chair to get caught up on rocks and bumps. I also chose solid airless tires, which are heavier but better for the terrain I'm in because I don't have to worry about them popping on rocks and cracked sidewalks. I also don't have to worry about filling them up, which is nice!

Think about where you would be using your wheelchair most (around the house, at work, etc) and take measurements of the doorways. This will inform you on how much clearance you'll need in tight spaces, and can help you figure out the right chair for you.

Make adjustments! It's pretty easy to learn how to adjust a wheelchair, you usually just need a set of metric allen keys to do most simple adjustments. Adjust the position and height of your footplate, your center of gravity, your dump, the backrest height, etc -- play around with it and find the best fit for you!

Overall, your first wheelchair is going to be a learning process. It'll help you realize what your preferences are, what you need, and what you don't like. Your first chair might not be perfect, but a few years down the line of being a wheelchair user and you'll have a much better idea of how to build a chair that's right for you.

Feel free to ask more questions, and good luck!

[knickynoo]

Back to the Future Part II, The Novel by Craig Shaw Gardner: Thoughts, commentary, and general ramblings

Part 3: A trip to Hilldale

Previous posts here

• We get a decent amount of information on the two police officers who take Jennifer to Hilldale, which is interesting. Their names are Reese and Foley (a fact I did already know), and we spend some time in Foley’s head as they bring Jennifer home.

Reese is evidently the by-the-book, serious cop while Foley is the more compassionate and easy-going one. Reese is always citing regulations and laws and refusing to bend them even slightly, and Foley thinks a lot of the rules are silly and should be bent when the situation calls for it—particularly if a regulation actually prevents them from helping someone. Foley wants to take Jennifer into the house so she’s safe, but Reese says it’s against regulation to enter a house without permission, so their original plan is to leave her on the porch until she wakes up on her own.

Poor Jennifer can’t stop getting moved to various locations and then just Left There.

• It’s mentioned twice that Foley hates her job. She’s worried about it turning her cruel and emotionless, and after saying goodbye to Jennifer, she feels, “—empty, deep in her stomach.” Someone write a fanfic where she quits and finds a career she loves.

• After Jennifer wakes up and is trying to figure out what on Earth is going on, she concludes something must have happened to Marty and Doc because, “They wouldn’t just leave her all alone—would they?”

LOL, YES, THEY WOULD, JEN.

• As Jennifer hides in the closet and watches Marlene, Lorraine, and George, she notes that Marlene is built, “—sort of huskily for a girl,” and that she’s probably an athletic type. This reminds me of the “pop up facts” feature on the DVDs I have and how one of the facts is that one of the jackets in the closet of the 2015 McFly house is a letterman one that supposedly belongs to Marlene’s boyfriend. So, yeah, I can see Marlene as a jock who is also dating a jock.

It also reminds me of how, years ago, I went for a checkup and the doctor was like, “You’re built like an athlete. You must play sports, huh? Soccer?” and I was like, “Ma’am I have never played a sport in my life.”

• In the movie, we learn George threw his back out on the golf course, but the book tells us that he was hit by a car that FELL OUT OF THE SKY. (while he was on the golf course)

• After Junior arrives on the scene and says hello to Jennifer, he hurries by too quickly to get a good look at her. Jennifer is relieved and thinks, “Lucky for her, he paid as much attention to most things as his father did!”

I love that line. Jennifer is quite aware that her boyfriend has no attention span and limited awareness of his surroundings at any given moment.

• After being firmly told by Doc to stay put and change back into his regular clothes, Book Marty—much like Movie Marty—quickly gets to work Not Listening. Except the book makes Marty’s disobedience sort of adorable because, after seeing the dog being walked with the drone, we’re told, “Maybe, Marty considered, now that he had his shoes on and all, maybe he should take a closer look at that dog, and, maybe, whatever else might be around the corner, like his future house.”

I can’t with Marty. This is the thought process of a six-year-old. “Well, Doc told me to change my outfit and sit here and not move, but, but…I did put my regular shoes back on! I did that one whole entire thing already, which is good enough, right? So maybe, maybe, I should go and Look At That Dog now. And if my house happens to also be there by some chance, maybe I can check it out too. Maybe.”

Ridiculous guy.

[wispstalk]

bear with me while I sound like some kinda online course for white collar management track ppl, but. there is a ton of advice out there about writing process and it's good to read it and try things out, but I only ever saw improvement when I set out on a project with a concrete goal and then used that goal to center my attention around *my* workflow. I have an inclination toward certain practices. Whatever I'm doing, however well it's working (or not), that's data and I can collect it, learn from it, and implement what I learn. I have a good outlining and drafting system, and it's incomprehensible to anyone but me, but it works because I leveraged my own working practices instead of trying to emulate how others work.

As for the goal, it's along the lines of "I'm gonna work on [characterization, dialogue, perspective switches, etc]" but you pick one priority and then you do that. Other shit can fall by the wayside at the expense of this priority. It's a little ridiculous to use words like "measurable" when it comes to writing ability but if you narrow your focus to one technique, you can then look back on your finished product (which you did finish, because you prioritized) and see if you accomplished what you set out to do. Are you satisfied with your attempt, are you getting feedback on the success of your attempt.

Previously I gauged my writing by, like, ~the gestalt~ of the whole story, and I spent so much time tweaking and editing and rewriting and staring at the screen in despair (while covered in crumbs. that's a little texture for visual appeal, which I'm prioritizing lately). It's inefficient. It's a huge amount of labor hours in comparison with the results. In that same amount of time I could work through three or four techniques that I've prioritized, and I'll see improvement in leaps and bounds.

I know I sound like a self help book for software guys but part of the reason they make six figure salaries is because they know how to work effectively. like, there's a whole industry around teaching these ppl how to work effectively, and they have some important shit figured out. Writing might be a labor of love but it's still labor, and I live in a world where I have to think about my time in terms of its market value. I'm vying for the highest net returns.

Sorry that I phrase things in these terms in another life I'd have been an economist but like. I get one life on this earth and it costs money to live it. Regardless of how I feel about that structure, when it comes to my hobbies I'm looking at the returns. Maybe that sounds grody bc creating is so personal and emotional but I have a bunch of finished stories I can point to as a result of thinking about it in terms of time=value. I can make things efficiently and I'm happy with what I make. Let me say some redneck shit to reset my karmic balance tho. y'all wanna go muddin in my lifted toyota

[thegodthief]

Ever since I put my foot down at work about no longer doing work outside of my spec, there has been one person that I set aside time to do just that for. It's not because they are above me in the food chain, it's not because they are well-regarded, and it's not because I need a mental break from my usual grind.

It's because they are actively trying to learn how to do this for themselves.

There is a particular report that my office often needs, but is not readily available from corporate. Corporate prefers that we make a formal purchase of the report from a separate department, but wow, that eats up our budget like water through a sieve because the report is calendar sensitive, so we're pulling it often. And even then, the purchased report has to be refined further to be useful to our needs. (Not to mention, that department always gives us grief because it's so tedious for them to do it that it takes a week to run it, hence the report charge.)

It was one of these refinement requests that put the report in front of me. I recognized where the data in the report came from. It is a refinement of a raw database dump that we are able to get without a purchase order. I obtained permission from my boss to get into trouble and obtained a raw dump for myself to play with.

Wow. That's a lot of data being collected for no reason other than to collect data.

Well, I don't need these twenty columns, or that duplicate column. How obvious can it be that these hidden cells are merged for no other reason than to frustrate someone trying to sift this data for themselves. So when I move these remaining columns to the order we need then that reveals where a refinement needs to happen. And then, and then, and then...

Done.

Took me two hours to figure out the steps, but then once I had the process complete and verified, it only takes me fifteen minutes to do this by hand.

But that's me.

I didn't realize how complicated the process was until I made a technical manual for it. I took nothing for granted and wrote it with the assumption that the most advanced thing the reader had ever done with the necessary program is to open an already existing file. I would complete a step, write down what I did in that step, look at what I wrote, and realize that what was one step to me would be six to fifteen individual actions to my intended audience.

What was a twelve step process to me became a list of forty-five individual instructions. And some of those steps had an explanation about why it needed to be done that way, and what to do if something looked wrong.

I sent the instructions to my boss and everyone that would need the report. It was not well received. Because that meant that no one now had an excuse to bother me to do the report for them when we often had several days notice that a report would need to be pulled on such-and-such day. The only time bothering me to pull the report would be justified is if it was needed in two hours or less. (But they have to explain to our boss why they waited that long.)

And then the exec who needed the report the most actually looked at the instructions. They printed them out and literally sat down at their desk and read them, line by line.

"Hey, Keri, I just read your report instructions. Forty-five steps? Really?"

"Yea, once I broke each step apart, it really does come to that."

"So, each step is an individual action, nothing is combined?"

"Copy and Paste pairs are combined, but nothing else."

"I notice that you don't require the user to use keyboard or mouse except for... two steps."

"That's because with exception of those two steps, it's really up to the user how to do those commands. I prefer keyboard, but I know most people here prefer clicking on icons."

"... I could do this. Thank you."

Earlier this week, I was asked to come to their office "only if there's free time". Yea, whatever, here I come. Turns out my instructions were introducing them to commands and features they have never used before and they wanted me to walk them through it because they are in Very Unfamiliar Territory.

"Oh. Cool. You're one of today's Ten Thousand! Sure, let's go."

"Ten Thousand?"

"One day, once we get your geek cred advanced, I'll explain it. But take my word that this is a Good Thing, Tee Emm."

As we went, they asked what each new skill could be used for. Suddenly, this wasn't about getting this one specific report put together, but this was now about how these skills could be used to make other tasks easier for the exec to do themselves.

"I can do this!"

Readers, let me tell you, I rediscovered joy at that moment.

They explained that each time they have asked IT for help and instruction, IT just did it and told them not to worry about the how because that's what they are there for. They had taken my instructions home and asked family members to help them understand the individual steps, only for said family to complete the report process (incorrectly) and tell them not to worry about it because the report was done. They have been wanting to learn how to do more than just open files and prettify reports and my instructions were giving them the opportunity to do just that.

"You probably think I'm an old idiot for not knowing these things."

"No, I think other people have been wrong to you and I am grateful that I got to be here right now."

It took the exec two days to complete what I could do in fifteen minutes. They got some steps wrong, but rather than fixing it for them, I coached them through realizing their error, how the error impacted further steps, and how to recover from the error. Their notes were extensive, mostly about alternative ways to enter each command.

And along the way, I was reminded how good it is to learn something new, the joy of the student and the joy of the teacher. How warm it can be for someone who did something for themselves for the first time.

I didn't realize I had forgotten until then.

[pezboisworld]

Oral History of Filming Holes (2003)

Louis Sachar, author and screenwriter: I didn't want someone to make it into a fluffy children's story. I wanted it to be gritty and tough.

In 1998, Sachar published "Holes," a young-adult novel about boys at a correctional boot camp in Texas. It became a mainstay in English classrooms nationwide, and by the early 2000s, directors and producers were vying for the film rights. They eventually went to director Andrew Davis and his production team.

Andrew Davis, director: The studio originally hired somebody else to try to adapt the book into a screenplay, and this idiot tried to change the whole book.

Teresa Tucker-Davies, executive producer: That writer came back with this insanely dark, dystopian film not even anywhere close to the story.

Read a copy of the original script

Instead of looking for a new screenwriter, Davis and Tucker-Davies hired Sachar, who'd never written a screenplay before.

Sachar: Andy was persistent in having me write the screenplay. At the time, I didn't realize just how special that was — he was really going out on a limb for me.

Davis: "Holes" was wonderful because it was an independent movie that had studio distribution and financing in place. That's rare.

Marty Ewing, executive producer: Disney really wasn't involved. It's not like they were on the set. It's not like they gave us creative notes that I saw. It's not that they challenged the director's vision at all.

Once the cast was in place, Davis figured out where to shoot the movie. The cast and crew ended up splitting filming time between Hollywood soundstages, the Disney Ranch in Santa Clarita, California, and Ridgecrest, California, in the Mojave Desert.

Miguel Castro, Magnet: We had to do six to eight weeks in boot camp because we actually filmed in the desert. We had to get prepared to be under weather conditions of 115 degrees Fahrenheit and higher.

Davis: Alex Daniels, the stunt coordinator, took the kids and had them digging holes. They had to get callouses on their hands and learn how to do it.

Castro: The hardest part for me filming was the heatstroke. I mean we got to a point where we were hitting 104 degrees, and it was nothing to us anymore — that was a chill day.

Davis: It was quite intense. It was very, very hot inside of those holes and we had to have the kids sprayed down and hydrated to make sure they were gonna be safe.

Castro: I remember one day was 119 degrees. I thought they were gonna cancel the filming, but we all agreed to knock it out. I was hallucinating, and I started seeing water, a swimming pool. The production team gave us thermometers to check the temperatures of our holes. If the holes hit over 125 degrees, we had to get out of there. That day, some of our thermometers broke 130.

Davis took adapting Sachar's book seriously, and from day one, the director included the author in every step of the process.

Sachar: There was one scene where Sam is selling onions to a bald guy to make his hair grow — that happened to be the day Andy remembered he promised to put me in the movie. Because it wasn't in the script, I was the only bald person on set. I'm glad I didn't know about the cameo beforehand. I would've practiced my one line in the mirror until the words had no meaning left.

After months of filming were over, it was down to Davis and the editing team to turn "Holes" into an actual movie. Then the director had to team up with Disney execs to figure out how to promote the sometimes-dark family film.

Sachar: Andy would send me the tapes as it was getting cut down. The initial tape was four hours long, and then gradually, every few months, he'd send me another tape of it tightened.

Davis: In terms of the editing, we didn't have a lot of screenings where Disney executives told us to change things. We finished it and that was it.

[hullbreachgame]

First Update!

Hello! I'm Duncan, and this is where I'm going to be posting updates for my personal, hopefully-to-be-completed-one-day game project!

The quick sales pitch: Heat Signature with a dash of Hardspace: Shipbreaker.

The less-quick sales pitch: A game where you play a highly disposable (and incredibly indebted) fixer who solves a big problem that a lot of individuals and companies have in the time of FTL travel; sometimes you would very much like something, but unfortunately it is on someone else's ship. In fact, it is often not just on someone else's ship, but in fact behind large amounts of personnel who may hold some strong objections to removing it from their ship. Or, they may in fact be the asset that needs retrieving and may not be particularly interested in coming quietly. Your goal? Completing the objectives set forth in your contract, employing whichever methods suit your particular tastes as well as the contract's stipulations-- some might want you to use a more delicate touch, while others want to send a message. Do what you can to earn as much as you can and maybe even pay off your debt-- or just try and enjoy the relative impunity you operate under.

Things are very much in the planning and testing phase right now. So, without further ado, let's get into one of the big things being worked on right now: Destruction.

------------------------CLANG - what was that?!-------------------------

The game is being developed in Godot 4, which is a fantastic engine for people who are a bit less experienced in the development space. It does have a few major downsides though, and one of the huge ones is a lack of assets and libraries. This makes it a little bit harder to get things moving and also means that there is the need to kind of develop quite a few things completely from scratch.

One thing that people who have messed with things like Godot and Unity in the past would probably understand is that you really want your collision objects to be convex. Basically, nice and solid, no holes or dips. You can stick a line in anywhere and it will only ever exit in one spot. In fact, you cannot even have rigidbodies with concave collisions in Godot. This is because it's really hard to calculate concave collisions, and really expensive on a computational level. This translates to: please have mercy on my framerate.

This generally isn't a huge problem, and there's plenty of ways to get around this, like just using static bodies, manipulating collision masks (which I actually will be using for a few neat things!), or you make sure that your concave objects, like a tunnel, or a doorway, are composed of convex polygons. A square room, for example, isn't just one big cube typically, it's six squares representing each face, 6 distinct collision objects.

It might be useful, then, to have some ways to break a concave shape into convex ones. And you'd be right! In fact, you'd be so right, that you'd assume it was a problem we've completely solved. And you would not be correct unfortunately! It's a topic that has a truly gargantuan amount of research poured into it. Google "Convex Decomposition" if you want to learn more about the subject-- it is genuinely very interesting-- there are people far more qualified than me to talk about it.

I have some plans in mind to solve the problem in a way that is performant for my needs, and I will also be (hopefully, providing it doesn't end up being utterly impractical) releasing these tools on their own within Godot so that other people can use them for free as well!

Actually writing out the code for it is... interesting, to say the least, as I am not gifted in the ways of geometry, and did not know too much about mesh generation until recently. However, I am currently working at implementing a very quick-and-dirty 'hole cutting' method right now.

Here is a gif that shows off the basic process for how it works:

Here's an explanation of how the general process will work:

Figure out your hole shape-- in this case, it's a square hole made by the rod punching through the prism. Get the points along the corners as well as your direction. In this case, we've got the 4 points on the face closest to the camera and pointed towards the left face.

Make a plane that is flush with the first 2 points and in the direction of the cut. Everything to one side gets snipped off of the first mesh and moved into another one (we don't actually separate them, but it is separated for easier visualization). Additionally, make a note of the first point in the hole and its intersection point-- in this case, bottom left point of the hole and about 3/4 of the way along the bottom of the prism.

Now-- repeat this step until you get to the last point of the hole; create a plane flush with the side, snip off everything on one side, and move to the next side. Connect everything up. Additionally, if this is the last repeat of this step, make a note of if you have intersected the two points from step 2. If so, you can drop the intersection point from step 2.

For the last points, just connect the previous point, the first point, and the intersection point from the previous point and the first intersection if it wasn't dropped.

After you've gotten all those pieces, you can just replace the original mesh with the 4 new ones. Tada! You have what looks like a hole through a mesh, but in reality it's 4 segments. If you're so inclined, you can also make the surface of the cut its own material-- maybe you want the 'inside' of a wall to look different.

Now, this solution isn't perfect. It cannot be multi-threaded in this fashion, since the sequential cuts depend on the prior cut to happen. I have a few other methods that could actually be done simultaneously, but this one is pretty easy to visualize and for the purposes of the game it should be completely functional. The astute among you may also realize that this will not work for concave holes without a few changes-- this is actually not the hardest fix, but it won't be relevant for the purposes of this type of destruction. It might be included in the library, though!

My next goal is to actually get this method implemented in Godot so that I can show it in action! This will also get me a bit more comfortable with mesh manipulation.

After that, we will be able to get to some really exciting stuff as well with some more... dynamic destruction. Cutting holes is all fine and dandy, but what about smashing them? Hopefully you'll see some more on that in the future!

[electricbluebutterflies]

Hi! I really love your works, particular Joel and Tess. The post you just shared with different ways to say I love you is so them too, would you consider writing one of them for them? I was thinking the sit next to me or the If you do it I do it ones but it is up to you of course!

"Sit next to me" is a good prompt. Early-era, PG-ish, also on ao3.

As a general rule, Tess doesn’t flirt. That requires effort and a confidence level Tess normally doesn’t have, even after a few drinks, and-

It doesn’t count if it’s someone she knows, or at least has already let touch her. The rules are different. Maybe all of this is different.

She hadn’t expected to see him again, after – Boston is still big enough for someone to not want to be found, even the sort of person who spends any time in the sorts of places Tess does, and she’s never been the second-date type let alone the girlfriend. But she’s never let a good opportunity go to waste, and that man is still so pretty and right there and apparently hasn’t socialized himself too much in the couple weeks since he pinned her to a wall and-

“Hey! Over here!”

The yelling is objectively unnecessary, the enthusiasm questionable, and Tess does not have a plan beyond possibly trying for a repeat of their past encounter. She’s always been reckless like that, detached mind and body, impulsive unthinking lucky-she’s-never-caught-anything and-

“You need somethin’?” he asks, more confused than unimpressed and god that voice does something to her, looking at her like he knows he knows her from somewhere but he’s had to learn too many new faces too fast to keep ‘em all straight and-

“Sit next to me,” she says. Might as well be direct.

“Not an answer.”

“You do know who I am, yeah?” Unfortunately not the first time she’s had to use that phrase this week, and still just sounds wrong, but at least this time isn’t you-do-know-I-have-way-more-underworld-connections-than-you’d-think-from-looking-at-me, at least this time is-

“Tess, right?”

Is it bad that she’s genuinely shocked he remembers her name? That’s how far her standards have sunk, she processes, how little she expects from former flings, how little-

Former, she thinks, may not be the right word here. Not if she has anything to say about it.

“That gets you a drink,” she replies. “You remember my first name and you’re making eye contact. That’s…”

“The bar is that low?”

“The bar is six feet under and most men still trip,” Tess laughs, trying to be cool, trying to keep the bitterness and the self-criticism buried where they won’t ruin her evening. “And here you are…”

“You’re a hard woman to find.”

“You went looking?”

“Kept an ear out. Figured…”

“You don’t wanna go where I do. You really don’t.”

“See, that just makes you more interesting.”

She’s gotten that compliment before, in a way that didn’t usually sound like one – interesting, she’s learned, is usually a polite way of saying batshit crazy. Not that she’s earned that, she’s done a few desperate things in self-defense but that don’t count, and-

“You really are the most desperate thing,” she murmurs. “Out of any living thing you could latch onto, you pick me.”

He has the sense not to directly respond to that, but his free hand reaches for hers and she lets it happen, allows the small initiation of what might become everything she wants. Whatever she did to provoke this imprinting, she’s in no mood to fuck it up.

“There’s something about you,” he says at some point later, towards the end of the evening, towards the part where she’ll take him home again. “Something…”

“Terrifying? Confusing?”

“Compelling. That enough of a word for you?”

She answers with a heartbeat of a kiss, much as she’ll ever do in public without ulterior motives. There are lines, even for her, even-

“And I thought I was bad at this shit,” she laughs.

“Don’t think so. I’m still here.”

[rachaelwilterdink]

How to Earn IIBA®’s CBAP® Certification

I was recently chatting with another Business Analyst colleague, who was interested in learning more about certification. I figured I had already written a blog about this, but when I searched my own site, I discovered that wrote a blog about the benefits of certification, but I somehow missed writing about my actual experience in earning the CBAP® designation from the International Institute of Business Analysis® (which is one of the greatest accomplishments of my professional life). So, to remedy this gap, here’s my guide to getting certified as a Business Analysis Professional!

Join the IIBA®

The best thing any Business Analyst can do to move their career forward is to become a member of the IIBA®. This is the organizing body of the profession, established in 2003, and the benefits of being a member are incredible. I recently wrote a blog citing my Top 10 membership benefits, so be sure to check it out.

As it specifically relates to certification, as a member, you have access to a free copy of the Guide to the Business Analysis Book of Knowledge® (BABOK®), which is the main reference material for the exam. As a member, you also get to take the exam at a discounted rate. Subsequent recertification fees are also reduced for members.

Review the CBAP® Handbook

The next step is for you to download the CBAP® Handbook from the IIBA®’s website. This is your step-by-step guide to the process of applying for and taking the exam. Interestingly, it looks like the requirements have changed since I sat for the CBAP® (originally earned in 2015). When I took the exam, the minimum required education was a high school diploma. Previously, (if I remember correctly) if you had a bachelor’s degree, you needed half the number of experience hours. Now, the CBAP® handbook doesn’t even reference educational requirements, and the experience requirements appear to be the same for all candidates.

Do the Work and Document Your Experience

To be eligible to sit the CBAP® exam, the IIBA® expects you to have at least five years of experience, with 7,500 hours of work history within the past 10 years. So, don’t even think about going for the CBAP® if you haven’t put in the time. There are other levels of certifications you may still be qualified for that would be worthwhile considering while get the necessary experience hours (ECBA™ and CCBA®). I didn’t do either of these certifications, but the prep class I took used the same materials and was the same course for people preparing for either the CCBA® or CBAP®.

Get 35 Professional Development Hours

Another requirement for being eligible for the exam is earning 35 professional development hours. There are plenty of prep courses and boot camps out there that will get you the hours you need and prepare you for the exam at the same time. That’s what I did, which can be pricey (fortunately, many companies will pay for this), but it’s not the only path. Check out IIBA®’s list of options that can help you get the hours you need. Keep in mind that you have to earn these credits before you apply!

Line up Two References

A unique requirement of the CBAP® is having two professional references who vouch for you. The IIBA® is specific about who you can use for a reference – it has to be people who have known you at least six months, and acted as your supervisor/career manager, or is an internal or external client you have worked with, or someone who already has either the CCBA® or CBAP®. So, nope - your peers and friends won’t suffice as your references.

Fill Out the Application

I always tell anyone who asks me that the application process for the CBAP® is half the battle when it comes to earning this designation. You should feel good that you didn’t have to do this “back in the day” when it was a paper application. The online application has also improved over the years, too, so it’s much easier to complete than in the past. All of that said, it’s still a daunting task. To qualify for the exam, you must align your experience with the knowledge areas of the BABOK® and have a minimum of 900 of those hours completed within four of the six knowledge areas (for a total of at least 3,600 of the total 7,500 hours required). It’s a lot. You must remember every job you’ve ever had, every project you’ve ever worked on, and what business analysis work you did on each. It’s intense and time-consuming. You’re extremely lucky if you have only worked at one company and they happen to have a time-tracking system with your work recorded – in this case, you can just do a data dump that will speed things up dramatically. Most people aren’t that lucky, though.

Pay the Application Fee and Submit

Another unique requirement from the IIBA® is that you must pay even to have your application considered. As of this writing, the cost in USD to apply is $145. Also keep in mind that it’s non-refundable. If approved, you then have three attempts within one year from your application’s approval. You get two re-takes, but you must pay for each attempt. And, if your application lapses, you get to start all over again! So, if you get this far, don’t let it be for nothing!

If You are Approved, Pick a Target Date

It can take a few days (or more) to get an answer on whether your application is approved. This is a seriously stressful time – trust me. When I went through this, it seemed like there was great variability in how long it took to hear back. I’m guessing it’s more automated now, so I would anticipate most people would get a response quickly. Hopefully, you’ll get the message that your application has been approved, and the email will provide you with instructions for the next steps. Just getting approved to take the exam is a huge accomplishment, in my book, so have your first mini celebration when you know you’ve passed the first step!

Then, choose a target date for taking the exam that is less than a year from the date of your approval. Having a date on the calendar will give you a sense of urgency and give you a starting point to work backward from when building your study plan.

What to do if you are Not Approved

I didn’t experience this personally, but I wouldn’t be surprised if this happened often. Like I said before, the application is extremely rigorous and it’s easy to miss things. Don’t be discouraged if you do get rejected – I assume the IIBA® will tell you what was missing or wrong, and then you can remedy the problem and re-apply. But, again, you’ll have to pay for another application, so you’d be better off double-checking your original application to make sure you nailed it.

Create your Study Plan

With a target date picked, it’s easy to lay out your study plan on a calendar. Everyone has their own best way of learning, so hopefully you know what yours is, and your study plan will reflect the activities that work best for you. Attend a Boot Camp I was fortunate enough to have my company’s support and they sent me to a preparation boot camp. Not only did this earn me the necessary 35 Professional Development hours, but it also gave me a good guide to the contents of the BABOK® and tips on how to pass the test. This was a great supplementary material that I used in my studies. Absorb the BABOK® However, my primary focus was going chapter by chapter of the BABOK®, with more attention on the knowledge areas, of course. I also didn’t follow the order of the materials in the BABOK® because it’s not meant to be a sequential process – I decided what made most logical sense to me and proceeded accordingly. As I was going through each part of the BABOK®, I created a question/answer spreadsheet that I uploaded to a study site called Cram.com, which made it easy (and fun) to drill. Buy a Prep Book There are a couple of good prep books that different business analysis experts have published. I would pick one of these up (be sure to read other readers’ feedback before buying). Some also come with subscriptions to sites with practice exams, flashcards for drilling, etc. Books like these can help make the materials of the BABOK® more accessible. Take Practice Exams As part of my boot camp course, I also had access to Watermark Learning’s practice exam and used that heavily to gauge my weak areas so I would know where to focus my studies, along with my readiness and confidence to take the actual test. This company has since been acquired, so I'm not certain whether their online exam simulation is still available. I also found other sample of practice exams and worked those into my plan.

Study Every Day

Once you have your plan in place and your study materials, the best thing you can do is study every day. Yes, you read that right – study every single day. This is not easy stuff to absorb, and the best way to do it (besides being an active practitioner) is to drill it daily. If you try to cram for an exam like this, it’s doubtful that you’ll pass, and you’ll certainly stress yourself out. Stick to the tortoise and the hare rule – slow and steady wins the race.

Pay for and Schedule the Exam

You may never truly feel “ready” to take an exam like the CBAP®, just because of the sheer volume of knowledge and experience you must have. But that’s why having a date (and a deadline – remember you must sit the exam within a year of your approval) will force you to do it anyway. When you decide to schedule the test, dig up your approval email and follow the instructions. Proctored Online Taking the test online wasn’t an option when I earned the CBAP®, but due to the wonders of technology (and maybe COVID), the exam is now available to take online. You will be proctored, which means you will be watched as you take the test, and there are pros and cons to doing it this way. I have taken a few other similar exams, and you may run into technical issues (which I did), your environment must be perfectly spotless, and you’ve got to have a rock-solid internet connection. If you’re worried about any of these things going wrong, you might be better off going to a testing center. When things go wrong (and they always can), it will increase your stress level and may cause you to bomb the exam. In-person Testing Center Although taking the exam at home might seem easier, a test center has its drawbacks, too. When you arrive, they treat you like a criminal – you must get “wanded,” empty your pockets, take off all your jewelry and such, and put everything in a locker. It’s a little bit like being in a library in a private cubicle, but with cameras and people watching you. So, stressful doesn’t even begin to describe it. But, if you go this route, at least you can’t be blamed if something goes wrong with the technology. Another nice thing is that when you pass, you get a certificate immediately.

Take the Exam and Pass

The actual process of taking the exam is where the rubber meets the road. A lot of trainers will recommend you use a single allowed piece of paper or whiteboard to do a brain dump. I didn’t do this because I think this is a tool used more for crammers than people who took the time to study slowly and steadily. Answer All the Questions and Guess if you Must A top tip I remember from my boot camp is that it’s best to answer all the questions, even if you’re not sure about the answer. If you skip a question, you have zero chance of getting it right; if you make your best educated guess, you at least have some chance. Flag Questions to Come Back to Regardless of whether you’re taking the test online or in a center, you can flag questions you’re unsure about so you can come back to them later. Use this feature. You don’t want to waste too much time on any one question, and if you flag a question, you can come back to it if you have time. The system makes it easy to go right back to any questions you flagged. Your First Instinct is Usually the Best Choice Another tip I recall from my boot camp is that your first instinct is usually the best choice, so it’s best not to overthink things. If you change an answer, chances are that you’re changing it to a wrong choice, so it’s best to go with your gut. Watch the Clock and Pace Yourself It is best to be aware of how much time you have remaining – the system usually displays a ticker showing you how much time is left. Try to aim for having a certain number of questions answered by a certain time, and speed up or slow down accordingly. Review if You Have Time If you get through all the questions and have adequate time remaining, go back through all the questions. Make sure you didn’t miss any. Guess on ones you aren’t sure of, using your best educated guess. Only change an answer if you are 100% certain you should. Submit! When you are done, hit the “Submit” button (or whatever it’s called). Don’t be alarmed if you receive a survey before you see your test result – this is incredibly annoying, but it ensures you fill the stupid thing out. It might take a few seconds, but after the system has processed your exam, if you did well, you’ll see a congratulations message. I don’t remember seeing any other words on the screen than “Congratulations!” Then, take a deep breath – you did it!

Celebrate!

Don’t forget to celebrate and share the news! Earning the CBAP® is no small feat, and it shows that you are among the elite in the profession.

What to do if you don’t Pass

I know plenty of people who didn’t pass on the first attempt. If this happens to you, don’t despair – there’s a reason this certification is so well-respected and difficult to achieve. You can take the test again, and now that you know what the experience is like, you know better what to expect so you can be prepared. You have up to two more attempts, so study again and focus on your weak areas. Don’t let a failed attempt stop you from moving forward – you can do this!

Good Luck!

I hope this guide is useful in your own journey toward earning the CBAP® designation. It’s not easy, but it’s well worth the effort. If anyone else has additional tips, please let me know in the comments below! Read the full article

[saint-starflicker]

I play the piano, the guitar, and made it into the chorus of my high school's production of Pippin which was how I first got voice training. I also have composed a handful of songs. Here's two ways I recommend:

The Digital / Voice-Only Way

What I advise you do is get a voice recorder app on your smartphone, or a digital dictaphone, or even a cassette-tape voice recorder if those still exist...

...and if a tune comes into your mind, without words, then la-la-la it into your chosen recording medium (or if it's entangled with lyrics, like the tune went to your mind while you were writing a poem for it, then replace the la-la's with your poetry/lyrics.)

That's one way. You can even do that with what's called a capella, which can be a solo voice with no accompanying instrumentals, or multiple layered voices that become the "instrumentals".

Audacity is a free sound editor, if you want to play around with layering your voice recordings in addition to cutting-and-pasting the parts of your voice sound file that you want. You can record a percussion voice as one layer, a chord-humming voice as another layer, and your melody-lyrics as the main part. Combine those and you have a song.

That's mostly the digital way. When I say "chord" it's when you sing a note (that's one moment of music, a "la") or a series of notes ("la-la" or "la-la-la"), and there's a different note that the "instrumental" is playing at the same time—even if that "instrumental" accompanying it is another voice.

The difference between the song-notes and the accompanying "instrumental" notes creates a chord (technically the term is interval, but I mean to give you a general idea of what a chord is.)

Or you can keep the solo voice with your melody and lyrics, then worry about accompaniment much later. The recording devices and applications are only to help your memory.

Minus the tech, a lot of traditional ballads were probably composed in this way ("Drowned Lovers" by Kate Rusby; the poetic structure of a ballad is alternating lines of iambic tetrameter and iambic trimeter but this is not a strict form so it's not important I only add it here in case you're curious), and even a lot of modern music uses solo-voice a capella for emotional effects: Jax the Bard's "Chemical Workers Song", Bo Bice's cover of "In A Dream", Tori Amos' "Me and a Gun", etcetera.

The Analog Way, or Actually Learn An Instrument

The piano is better for learning music theory, I think you can get smaller and cheaper digital/electric MIDI keyboards that plug to upload to Audacity all right with a cable, and the steeper learning curve is worth it for the versatility...but I personally prefer the six-string acoustic guitar at standard tuning for composing songs because it's more tactile, I think as an instrument the guitar is easier to learn than the piano. You don't even really need a capo or a guitar pick when starting out.

What I recommend starting with is rhythm guitar stuff: If you learn the C-major, A-minor, G-major, and D-major chords on the guitar...then you have basically learned to play the guitar accompaniment of almost every pop song. There's a difficult way and an easy way to play G-major on a standard tuning 6-string guitar; don't start out with the difficult G-major.

If you're going for a more Lana del Rey and maybe Lorde vibe, then I think only E-minor and A-minor and maybe D-major and D-minor will be most of what you need.

With an analog and acoustic basis this way, what can happen is you listen to the change between chords, and then you start putting a melody to match those chords and rhythm-guitar percussion—instead of the method I recommended above, which creates the melody-and-lyrics first and then builds the accompaniment around that. In this other way, you create the pattern of chords and rhythms first, and the melody-and-lyrics get built on top of that.

After either of these, you can figure out your creative process. Sometimes a rhythm, percussion, or bass line is the first part that a songmaker thinks up for their specific song ("Jason" by Andrew Muccitelli started with its bass, if I recall correctly). Other times, the melody emerges from the words ("Jolene" by Dolly Parton, she was trying to remember the name of somebody who asked for her autograph, because Parton got permission to use her name in a song, so it was repeating the name to herself that created the urgency of the first verse and became a melody as she repeated the name to remember it.) Other times still, I will think of a melody and that bit of melody will remain orphaned without lyrics, and I don't even know if that bit of melody will be the verse or the chorus.

There was (is?) a composer-lyricist team I followed whose process, according to the lyricist, was that they fight. One of them has a feeling or idea about what they want the next song they work on together to be about, and if the other disagrees then they fight, and the one who's most passionate about really feeling the style and the subject matter wins. The next step after that is getting into a rhythm, because if the lyricist has a rhythm and the composer has a rhythm and they agree on that, then they can work on those independently from each other. At the end of the day they meet up again, they share what they worked on for the song they fought about in the first place, and the composer's melody will match the lyricist's lyrics because they shared the rhythm or tempo.

I think that process can happen to one person, but it can take longer if you can't work on both parts of the song at the same time (or if you never win that first decisive "fight" with yourself about what this song is even going to be about.)

So even though that's my advice to start out, your creative process is really going to be yours, you discover what works best for you or what you can make-do with within your limitations. Maybe you think the guitar is too difficult while the piano keyboard is easy, opposite of my experience and opinion. That's completely all right. If it works for you, then it works!

guys i rlly want to start writing songs bc i’ve been building up my voice and writing some vague lyrics for possible songs but i dont know how to play any instrument and its rlly hard for me to come up with creative and good melodies 😭 if anyone can help me pls respond

[thedrarrylibrarian]

Hello!! I was wondering if you know any fic with a secret identity trope? Hehe thank you

Secret identity

Such a fun trope! I tried to put a mix of options for everyone in here! I hope you enjoy!

Faces by @floydig (323 words, rated T)

Dumbledore’s voice was solemn. “You’ll become one of them; infiltrate. Gain their trust, take the Mark when they offer, then terminate all.”

“I’ll do it,” Harry said. He did not fear death.

a new kind of blind date by @swoontodeath (1,233 words, rated T)

Keen to escape his fans, Harry joins the cast of a hidden-identity dating show.

Harry Potter and the Half-Guard Prince by @swoontodeath (4,416 words, rated M)

Banished to the Muggle world by the conditions of his parole, Draco Malfoy is forced to learn how to protect himself without magic.

The Half-Guard Prince might never show his face in his videos, but that low, seductive voice is strangely familiar…

Turn My Blue Heart to Red by @bonesliketambourines (4,587 words, rated M)

Harry figured he'd never see Draco Malfoy again after their disastrous not-a-relationship-no-really-Hermione ended after Eighth Year, but Harry's never been lucky, so naturally it's Head Healer Malfoy who's swanning all over Harry's emergency department, looking all pale and accomplished and competent as he sneers down at Harry's systems and processes.

Meanwhile, what about that fit bloke at the gym...?

Inexplicably, I Find Myself With You by @bafflinghaze (6,160 words, rated M)

During a masked ball, Harry meets a man and has a great night. When night turns to day, the man leaves and Harry is left with a mysterious white mask.

The Bum Universe by @p1013 (7,964 words, rated E)

From this angle, Harry can make out the entire shape of the tattoo. It's a snake, curled lovingly across the man's lower right back, nestled within a bed of peonies. The lines are slightly faded, and the soft colors of the petals are a dim pink. Harry imagines what it would've looked like right after the man was tattooed, everything vibrant with fresh ink and blood-raised skin. His hand perfectly covers the flowers, the snake's eyes peering out from the space between his fingers, and the man shivers beneath Harry's palm.

Lost N Found by @famoustruth (10,812 words, rated T)

The six times Draco writes love letters to Harry without either of them knowing and the one time they do.

Statues Crumble by @fictional and @xanthippe74 (13,683 words, rated T)

Between one war and the next, Draco has lost his parents, his home, and his menial Ministry job. All he has left is the secret (and anonymous) work he does to help Harry Potter overthrow another government—oh, and that statue he stole from the Ministry Atrium.

Always Him by justlikewriting (14,124 words, rated M)

After the war, Draco and Blaise had set up The Agency as a side project. And Draco knew that it was just meant to provide people with someone to do fun things with: no sex, no romantic entanglements allowed.

Yes, Draco knew. He really did. Even if his next client was Harry Potter, the Harry Potter he’d been carrying a torch for for much too long now.

Day Shift on Diagonal by @prolix- (22,192 words, rated E)

Auror Draco Malfoy has been relegated to patrol duty again. After a long shift, he stumbles upon a new coffee shop on Diagon Alley and finds himself being served coffee by none other than Harry Potter. Charmed, Draco can’t help but go back again and again in order to get a glimpse of what’s become of the wizarding world’s Golden Boy—and to get his weekly fix of caffeine, of course. But, as time passes, Potter’s mind seems to be occupied with more than just coffee… and it’s up to Draco to figure out what’s going on.

Hop, Skip, and a Jump by @rockingrobin69 (22,222 words, rated M)

Harry's finally reached the bottom. Took a while, but here he is, right where he should be. Miserable, angry, terrified, and most importantly, numb - isolating himself in Grimmauld Place seems the natural next step. Alone, all alone. Except for this pesky little problem.

Love Bites, Or How Draco Malfoy Learned to Let Go and Celebrate His Allure by @mosrael (50,797 words, rated M)

Recently-turned Draco Malfoy is doing his very best to be a normal, productive, contributing member of wixen society. So far, he's managed to keep his bloody little problem a secret, even from his best friends. But when the professional opportunity he's been dreaming of finally falls in his lap, he finds himself with much more than just a potential promotion. Will a profile on a new creature-exclusive dating app, a wolfy stranger who seems hellbent on liking Draco just the way he is, and a little self-confidence help Draco finally love himself and his newfound community?

Dancing with a Dragon by justlikewriting (27,913 words, rated G)

When a new group of potions smugglers, also known as the Dragon Cartel, infiltrates the UK market from mainland Europe, Harry is happy to go on a mission to Brussels. That is, until he finds out whose bodyguard he will have to be, because, of course, that just has to be Draco Malfoy: his former, er-, schoolmate and the same prat Harry has only recently encountered at a particularly boring ministry event.

The Boy Who Only Lived Twice by @letteredlettered (54,117 words, rated E)

Harry Potter is an Unspeakable. Draco Malfoy is the wizard who shagged him. Adventure! Intrigue! Secret identities, celebrities, spies! It's all right here, folks.

Who we are in the shadows by @quicksilvermaid (99,714 words, rated E)

Ex-Auror Harry Potter, tossed out of the Ministry for something he had no control over, has been looking for a way back to his former life. When he comes across Draco Malfoy in the criminal underbelly of Wizarding London and in need of protection, Harry figures bringing him in to face the Ministry's justice is his ticket back to everything he's lost.

But nothing is exactly as it seems. Not even Harry himself. And as he gets drawn further and further into Malfoy's world of honour and deception he finds himself questioning everything he thought he knew—about his childhood nemesis, the Ministry job he misses so much, and most of all, about himself.

Pages of You by @wolfpants (101,717 words, rated E)

Summer, 1980. Harry is floating between university and becoming a Real Certified Adult. He's not ready. He really isn't.

In a desperate attempt to have the Best Last Summer ever, he takes a casual job at his godfather's bookshop in London, starts an illicit pen pal affair with a wordy posh boy that he's catching feelings for, all while dealing with the son of Sirius's business rival, one Draco Malfoy, insufferable know-it-all extraordinaire.

A story about trying to figure out who you are, where you're going in life, and who you want to take along with you.

❤️ As always, if you find a fic you enjoy, please remember to leave the author a kudos or a comment! ❤️

Lots of Love and Happy Reading!

[reinersbb]

𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐄𝐓 [𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐊𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐢𝐧 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫] Chapter Six- Purple

                                                     ılı.lıllılı.ıllı.                                                ᴺᵒʷ ᵖˡᵃʸᶦⁿᵍ; [ 𝐓𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭 ]                                             0:21—◦———— -2:38

The lead from your mechanical pencil left dull scribbles of different examples of French sentences utilizing past participles on your sheet of notebook paper. Your right earbud hummed lightly a tune from Brent Faiyaz in your ear as you worked diligently on your French coursework.

Thursday was the fourth day of November. Midterms had thankfully come to an end, and even though you had managed to pass all of your tests with flying colors, it didn't mean that you hadn't endured any stress during such a treacherous week. You were left feeling burnt out from all of the studying and stress that came with the previous week, sure, the weekend had been an upside for you, but now you were back into your same routine of studying and working hard towards when your next set of tests would be.

Due diligence. You wanted to be on top of everything, especially your grades. University was hard, and you couldn't afford to fail.

So, that's why you were currently sitting in a small cafe just outside of the campus grounds after your last class of the day, trying to stay ahead of the game by tackling your French work. There was a slight sigh of relief from you, feeling at ease for swapping German for French. Not that learning another language was easy, but for you at least, French came to you more naturally.

An old wooden wheelbarrow painted white that was filled and stacked with a variety of pumpkins was the cafe's attempt at decorating for the fall season. Some spheres were bright orange, while others were dull in color, and some were also speckled with bumps and lumpy all over. The wooden vessel was parked stationary right outside the cafe's large glass doors. Every few minutes you would take a moment to give your eyes a rest from your work to glance out of the tall windows and take in the scenery, watching the crisp orange, yellow, and red leaves sweep the cobblestone pathway outside. The pigmented colors of autumn were a sure sight to take in, especially since it wouldn't be much longer until autumn was to turn into Winter and then everything would be dull and grey.

Scarlet maple leaves continuously dance in the wind as you forward your attention to your phone so you could change the song as 'Trust' drew near to its' ending cord.

You had been in the cafe alone for almost forty minutes now working on your course material. This time alone to yourself was a must considering as of recent how much you'd been out in a public setting.

Your fingertip draws away from the device screen, 'because I like a boy,' is now playing in your ear.

The light tune bumps in your ear as you go back to work, scribbling down the foreign language onto the paper. It's when a dim shadow from a passerby walking outside of the cafe obscures your line of vision and sweeps your workspace that steals your attention. The lead of your pencil digs into your paper as you halt your writing process. You see that it is a couple passing by, hand in hand while heading for the entrance of the cafe.

The bright chime from the bell hanging just above the glass door mocks you, the sound of the bell seems to slow down in time and the bright tune twists down a cord in a melancholy manner as you observe the couple entering the cafe together.

How you instantly regretted looking up from your work to witness the two love birds.

Roughly fifteen feet away from you stood a slender figure, one hand buried deep into his jacket pocket, his left hand holding onto the woman's right hand as he stared forward gawking at the cafe menu. His red hair was short on the sides and longer on the top. The girl with dark hair that was glued to his side was still laughing at something that he had said previously while walking into the cafe. The couple had no care in the world and was oblivious to you, while you on the other hand were suffering just by existing around their presence.

Of course, your ex-boyfriend, Floch, and attached to him was Mina.

Jean's offer to help forget about Floch for the night being had done justice because the last time you gave Floch any thought was back at the party whenever you saw him together with Mina. The steamy night together with Jean did more than just help you forget about Floch, the night you shared together was really the only thing you've been able to think about as of recently.

So seeing your ex in the same vicinity as you, especially with the girl he most definitely left you for and more than likely cheated on you with, made your mood plummet drastically. Your whole day was now ruined, that's what it felt like at least to you. You had gone such a long time without thinking about him, almost a week-long, and now it felt like you had to start back from square one all over again. The feelings you had for the man were gone, but seeing him with her and the insinuation of what conspired between the two did hurt you.

With your fingertips curling tightly around the mechanical pencil, you ducked your head down, burying yourself in your work in an attempt to make yourself less noticeable. You plucked your other earbud out of its case and swiftly inserted it into your left ear, at the same time you increased the music's volume and went on with your work, hoping to be able to retain anonymity.

"Shit," you mumble to yourself when you notice you have left random pencil markings on your work.

With a huff, you begin erasing the stray markings and wipe the shedding from your eraser off the table out of frustration. The pink fibers fall aimlessly in the air as you stare down at the paper in front of you. A few minutes pass by and you, fortunately, begin to forget that Floch and Mina were even there in the first place. And no, you were not planning to look up and get a quick analysis of the cafe to check and see if the two were still there in the cafe with you.

That is until you notice in your peripheral vision the movement of two chairs being moved at a nearby table. You snatch your eyes up and over to the commotion of chairs being moved, noticing that both Floch and Mina were sitting down at a nearby table. The table the two were sitting at was so close to you that you thought that they'd seen you and decided to fuck with you by purposely sitting near you as some type of cruel joke. Or maybe, just maybe, they were completely and utterly oblivious to your existence by being so self-absorbed in each other's presence.

The position in which the two were sitting at their table made it easy for you to remain unnoticed unless they were to purposely look around, which you were grateful for. Though, you couldn't help but ignore your work and keep watch of them and how the two interacted with one another. You and Floch used to act the same way with each other at one point in time when things were nice and fresh between the two of you at the beginning of your relationship, but those more joyful memories seemed so far and distant now.

The atmosphere around you was now bleak, a bitter taste was left lingering in your mouth, and it wasn't due to the aftertaste of your cinnamon maple latte either. You felt more than uncomfortable being entangled in the same presence as the two, you wanted to crawl out of your own skin, and you would do so if applicable. But, instead of committing to such drastic actions, you decided to make it easy on yourself to pack up and leave.

The porcelain cup which held the remnants of your unfinished caffeinated beverage clanked against a dirty plate at the cafe's dish drop-off that customers would use once finished dining in. You hadn't even had both straps of your backpack completely looped over your arms before you pressed through the exit of the cafe.

Finally being outside of the cafe and standing on the cobblestone walkway strip felt freeing to you, like a weight had been lifted off of your shoulders, and that you were no longer being suffocated. The day sky was a shade of dusty pink as the time of day slowly began to change from day to night.

Your fingertips pinch onto your left earbud and you place it back into its case as you began to head your way back towards your dorm, there you would cocoon yourself inside of your comforter for the rest of the night, and maybe even all weekend long. While pushing the earbud pack into the pocket of your sweatpants, you halt in your tracks, pausing your march back to your room as you notice a familiar sweet freckled face exiting a store with a large yet slender white box hugged in his arms.

"McFly!" You say while striding towards the man with dark hair, putting your other earbud away mid-process.

Marco's face lights up brightly and says your name whenever he notices you approaching him, "I was confused for a second whenever you said McFly but then it hit me. But, oh my goodness, hi, how are you? I haven't seen you since the party."

Seeing Marco's happy smile immediately began to cheer you up, he seemed to be such a sweetheart.

You laugh while listening to him, "I had to get your attention somehow, and I am feeling a little crummy right now, but I will be okay. How are you, Marco?"

"Why are you feeling crummy right now?" Marco asks with a slight frown on his face before saying anything else. "I am doing great, thanks for asking. Actually, I am super excited for tonight," Marco suggests to the box he is holding in his arms.

"You do seem really excited, what's tonight?" You ask, forwarding towards the white box, "and it's just relationship things, I just had an encounter with my ex, unfortunately."

"I'm sorry to hear that you're feeling a little down right now. And tonight, a few of the boys from our frat and I are going out to have dinner at a restaurant to have a mini celebration for Armin's birthday that was yesterday, I was picking up a cake for the occasion."

The news was a surprise to you, "yesterday was Armin's birthday? I had no clue."

"Yeah, and as I said, we're just doing a small celebration since there's going to be a huge party next Friday to celebrate both Armin and Porco's birthdays since their birthdays are only like a week apart from one another."

"I am jealous, I love cake," you huffed a joyful response, "also, could you make sure to tell Armin I said happy birthday for me, please?"

"Of course, I can do that for you without a doubt," his chocolate brown eyes are shining at you as he smiles, "what are your plans for the rest of this fine Thursday evening?"

"Oh," your voice drains as you think of what to say. Because explaining to Marco that you were on the way back to your room to hide away in your covers would be way too embarrassing, "nothing much honestly, probably just stay in my room for the rest of the night."

Marco's eyebrows furrow together slightly and it seems like he begins to think of something momentarily. Then, his face lightens up brightly as it seems like an idea struck him out of nowhere.

"Marco?" you ask, wondering what it could be that he thought of.

Marco says your name full of excitement, "you know what? Instead of me telling Armin happy birthday for you, how about you do it yourself by coming out with us tonight, it will be great!"

"I don't know, I wouldn't want to impose since I wasn't invited originally. And besides, didn't you say if was just people from your frat going to be there?"

"Well, I am inviting you now, if anyone has a problem with it then they'll just have to deal with me. Plus, Jean will be there," he cooed the last bit, almost as if he were trying to get a reaction out of you.

Jean. As for pretty much everyone else, Jean was also someone you hadn't seen since the night together in your dorm room. You wanted to see him again, but you never knew how to ask over text, you kept quiet.

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip lightly as you think of a response, "only if you're sure that it'll be okay if I show up, I wouldn't want anyone to be annoyed with my presence."

"Trust me, I promise, and it was just an idea it's not like there are any set rules to it," Marco's voice is encouraging, "asides from dressing semi-formal, Armin's request, of course."

"Okay, fine, it's a done deal," you say but quickly you realize something, "by the way, what time and where exactly?"

Marco happily gives you both the time of the place where the birthday dinner was supposed to be, and where the dinner was planned to be held. With the new information, your trip home to your dorm room is quicker than you'd originally anticipated. And as soon as you got back to your room, you got to work since you only had an hour and a half at most to both be ready and be at the restaurant on time.

The time is almost twenty after six in the evening as you approach a cream-colored stone building that seemed to be three stories tall. The brick of the building was old and seemed to be able to tell a tale of years while the paint was fresh and new. Bright warm light shines through all of the windows which are tall and narrow and boxed in with dark wooden frames. There are three thin trees spaced out evenly just in front of the old building. There are benches lined up parallel to the building, the same as small plant boxes for decoration. A large sign at the very top of the building had the name 'Sina's' in cursive script, the subscript underneath read the words 'dine, lounge, and bar'.

You stare at yourself in the reflection of the front door, raking in your appearance and doubling yourself over to make sure you looked decent enough. It had been a while since you last saw Jean, and for some reason, you wanted to make sure you looked your best for this occasion. Hugging onto your body was a ruched fabric bodycon dress with sheer long sleeves in the shade of rich deep purple. You wore your favorite color of jewelry to match the dress, along with black high heels to go with tonight's look.

You swap your clutch to your other hand as you push through the swing door and into the inside of the restaurant. The open space is tall with high ceilings, there is a grand staircase that leads up to the next floor. Two large waterfall-type fountains are structured into the wall just beside both sides of the staircase. After taking a moment to gawk at the main entryway, there is a man standing at a podium just beside the entrance who was ready to greet you.

"Good evening ma'am, welcome to Sina's, how may I assist you?" the sound of water lapping plays in your ear.

"I am supposed to be having dinner with my friends here tonight at around this time."

"If you head just up those stairs," the employee points towards the staircase, "you will find yourself in the restaurant where you will be seated with your group."

"Okay, thank you so much," you say to the man while also shining a polite smile before heading upstairs.

"By yourself?" The hostess asks while collecting a single menu as soon as he sees you approach.

"No, I'm here with a large group, the reservation should be under the last name Arlert."

"Why of course, the party of nine, right this way," the host places the menu back where he originally grabbed it from, "if you'll just follow me."

You follow the tall lanky individual across the restaurant until you reach a big circular table that already had menus all aligned along with perfectly folded napkins that held gold-plated silverware pocketed inside the folds. You also notice Marco who was currently readjusting the center of the table with the box of birthday cake and a card.

"Thank you," you say while collecting a seat that had you facing the entrance, "where is everyone else, Marco?" You couldn't help but observe that it was just Marco currently present while the rest of the table was vacant.

Marco's voice shines as he greets you, "the time for dinner is supposed to be six-thirty, I wanted us to get here early so you could help me prep some things," he explains.

"That explains why you told me to be here at six twenty instead of a normal time such as six thirty," you laugh lightly, "what do you need my help with?"

Marco chuckles at the first part of your sentence, "I've pretty much got it, honestly I just wanted some company while I got everything ready."

It doesn't even take another minute before he is finished setting up the table completely. In the center of the table was the birthday cake, along with a card that was signed by Marco, and underneath the cake and laying scattered across the tablecloth was large gold metallic confetti.

To avoid feeling exposed by bringing nothing to the table, Marco had done the favor of scribbling your name down onto the card he had brought with him, you made sure to slip some extra cash on the inside.

"It looks great, Marco," you admire his handwork and his attention to detail, "you did a nice job."

"Thank you," Marco sports a radiating smile as he admires his work before he checks his dark brown leather watch to evaluate the time, "we still have a few minutes left to kill before the rest of our group shows up."

"Thanks again for inviting me out tonight, Marco, I didn't want to say this earlier, but if I am being honest, I was planning on going back to my room and staying in bed for the rest of the night if it weren't for you."

"Please, it was all my pleasure, and actually," Marco pauses for a moment as he scans the area before continuing, "I wanted to thank you for something."

"Thank me... what for exactly?" You stare at him with a questioning look painted across your face.

You were more than curious to find out what it was exactly Marco was so thankful for.

"About Jean, you see, Jean has been one of my closest friends for quite some time now and he has been in a dark place for a little while, even though he won't open up and admit to it. Not only that, but the aftermath of him and his ex hasn't been pretty. I will say though, in the past few weeks I've noticed a positive change in him and I can only connect the dots that it might have something to do with you, so whatever it is you're doing, keep doing it please, I haven't seen Jean this happy in a while."

The ex Jean was talking about at the costume party, that ex? Even though Jean had said he wasn't sure if he was in love with her, was there more to the story?

"Me? Are you sure, Marco? I haven't done anything special besides exist," you've done more than just exist in Jean's world, but you were going to spare Marco the explicit details that had occurred between you and Jean.

Marco shrugs, "it's just my suspicion, that's all, he seems a bit brighter around the house and he brings you up quite often believe it or not, also, did you know that Jean is a mama's boy?"

All of the information that Marco was throwing at you was a lot to process, and your brain was only processing things at half speed, "wait a minute, he talks about me? What, a mama's boy, where'd that even come from?"

"You cannot tell him that I told you any of this, okay? So, back a few weeks ago, he tells me about how this beautiful woman bumped into him while he was on a jog and he felt like a dumbass for not grabbing her number. He felt like all hope was lost until he saw her again at a party the very next day."

A wave of heat flashes over you, toasting your face as you listen to Marco speak about how Jean was talking about you. You couldn't believe what you were hearing, but, at the same time, you couldn't get enough of the tea and wanted Marco to keep spilling the beans.

"After the party that he went to, he was back in my room telling me how he managed to kiss her at that party and how he ran into her again and invited her to a Halloween party," Marco continues.

"Okay, so maybe that is me he was talking about, all of that stuff did happen between us," and more than just that too.

"And about him being a mama's boy, I just think it's because he misses home or something."

Just as you open your mouth to say another word, your response is cut short when you notice a large group begins to walk toward the table where you and Marco were seated at. You immediately notice the birthday boy himself before anyone else due to such radiant glow that engulfed him.

Shortly after, you notice the tall man with ash-colored hair walking just behind the vast group talking with who seemed to be Niccolo. From what you can see, you cannot help but notice a small unrecognizable frown pulling at his lips as he walks towards the table behind everyone.

"No way," Eren spouts a look of surprise whenever he notices you and shouts your name to gather your attention, "what're you doing here?"

Eren saying your name causes Jean's attention to rip away from the conversation he was having with Niccolo. Jean's eyes are glued to you as you stand from your chair to greet everyone. You had your arms open to Armin to wish him a hello and a happy birthday, but instead of the blond wrapping his arms around you, Eren made sure to swoop in and get to you first. Eren's gesture is genuine, this you could tell to be truthful compared to other times you'd seen him, especially whenever he wasn't sober.

Eren's presence is inviting enough, but, there's something off about the embrace that has you almost instantly rejecting his closeness internally. It's as if something felt off to you, or the encounter just outright felt unnatural. Jean's eyes narrow down on you and Eren as he watches the encounter from afar.

"Hello, Eren," you say as the tall brunette releases you from his grasp, "why, don't you clean up nice," there was a subtle hint of surprise laced in your voice as you viewed Eren's well-groomed appearance.

You couldn't help but poke fun at the boy with shining emerald-colored eyes. For once his hair was neatly tied back without any flyaways hanging loosely, nor did his breath reek of cheap booze and his vape pen.

"Special occasion," Eren says to you with a toothy grin and a light pat on your shoulder before he chooses a seat at the table.

"Armin," you finally greet the birthday boy with a light embrace, whenever you two separate is when you continue to speak, "I'm so sorry I didn't realize it was your birthday yesterday, I had no idea or I would've said something sooner, but, happy birthday nonetheless!"

"Thank you so much, and no, It's okay, I don't go around spouting to people that it's my birthday, so it's understandable that you weren't aware, I'm glad that you are here actually, it's a nice surprise."

Jean is the last person you greet out of the entire group. His saunter has a certain beat to it as he strides over to you. He stands front and center to you, standing tall as he towers adjacent to you. You weren't sure why but you were full of nerves being within his vicinity, even though there was no real reason to be nervous especially after sharing more than one explicit evening together.

"Jean, hello," your senses are swamped with the familiarity of Jean's rich sheer cashmere cologne as his long arms pull you to him.

"It's been a while, hasn't it?" Jean's hand is caressing the small of your back as he has you sink into his embrace, "I'm happy to see you."

Feeling the warmth of his body press against yours made you want to melt into him as his presence engulfed you. Feeling weak at the knees by his touch alone left you feeling helpless. But before you were left in a sea of hopelessness, the intimate encounter between you two ended faster than you would've preferred.

Your skin was left buzzing in all of the places where Jean had just touched you, your skin felt aflame as if his touch had set you on fire. You wondered if Jean was currently feeling the same way as you.

As the two of you reluctantly pull away from one another, you drink the tall figure in as he stands before you. Jean's ash-colored hair is combed back at the sides, though strands still manage to fall and drape over his forehead and over his hazel eyes. Jean wore a dark grey overcoat with a deep maroon turtleneck tucked into black slacks underneath. His eyebrows are relaxed as you finally draw your attention back to his face, you catch his pale eyes drinking you in as you had been doing the same to him.

Jean laughs slightly whenever the two of you make eye contact, noticing that you caught him eyeing you, "you're wearing purple, the dress looks great on you."

"That I am, and thank you, Jean," you bat an eye playfully, knowing the reason why you picked this dress was from recalling that purple was Jean's favorite color.

Jean helps you take your seat by pulling out your chair for you, and whenever you're seated he helps you push the seat forward to the table. Jean follows suit by taking the seat to your right before the spot is taken since Marco had already taken the seat to your left.

Sitting beside Jean felt comfortable, natural, even.

Jean tilts his chair back, leaning back in the chair to gain eyesight on Marco. The two begin to have a conversation oh hello's and how are you's to catch up with one another behind your back as you pluck the menu from off of the table and your eyes begin to wander across the options.

Just as you were becoming well acquainted with the menu, you hear Eren speak out from across the table.

"There she is," Eren announces as his eyes are pinned to the entrance, "I thought you weren't going to make it."

You turn in your seat to watch as a woman who was wearing a red satin dress breeze through the circular dinner tables toward your group. You had only seen her once or twice before, each time was from both parties you had attended recently. The name that belonged to the woman was on the tip of your tongue, but, unfortunately, your memory was currently failing you.

"Hey, Mikasa, I didn't think you were showing up with us tonight," Armin chimes brightly at the woman with short dark hair.

"Happy birthday again, Armin," she crouches beside the blond and places a small gift box in front of the man, "Annie sends her birthday wishes," Mikasa's lips draw into a small pucker as she kisses the birthday boy by the ear.

Armin's milky white face floods to a scarlet hue after listening to Mikasa's response, "thank you, Mikasa," his bright blue orbs comb over the small gift as the corners of his mouth pinch to a smile.

Eren nudges Armin with a sheepish elbow press to the upper arm to gather the blond's attention. Armin is pulled from his bashful trance to glance at Eren, at the same time Eren mouths something to Armin, the only bit of information you could collect from Eren's lips was the word 'Annie'.

"I had trouble finding parking for this place, or I would've been here sooner," Mikasa apologizes as she finds a seat to the left of Eren.

"I think we all had trouble finding a place to park for this place," Jean jumps in on the conversation.

You look at Jean after he speaks and begin to analyze how his eyes happen to linger on the woman in the red dress. Watching his pale eyes stay fastened onto Mikasa as the conversation flows around the table causes your stomach to involuntarily twist and bend while an undisclosed feeling begins brewing deep within you. While watching the two and slowly piecing bits and clues together, mainly how Jean's eyes were pinned to her and how he would smile when speaking, but the corners of his mouth would form into a frown each time Mikasa looked away from Jean's vicinity. Realization hits you which helps you finally connect the pieces together and see the bigger picture, or, the reality of the situation.

Mikasa was Jean's mysterious ex.

To you, everything began to make so much more sense. And you couldn't help but belittle yourself for not figuring it out sooner.

Remembering back to the Halloween party when you and Jean sat in the locked room completing the dare that Sasha commanded you two to execute, and how Jean began talking about his past with his ex. How Jean explained to you on the couch that his ex was there at the party, you remember Mikasa being there that night at the Halloween party, along with the other party previous to the costume party as well.

You try to shake the feeling away of what felt like some form of jealousy or bitterness by shifting in your seat, fixing your posture, and focusing your attention face forward so that way your eyes land on Armin before your line of sight falls to the script printed on the restaurant's menu. Your eyes continuously rake over the dinner entrees without processing any of the words while reminding yourself of how Jean reassured you that same night that he was completely over his ex and past relationship. Jean was more than genuine when he opened up to you about such a delicate topic, this you had thought at least.

Biting the bullet, you push your feelings aside because you knew that it made no sense to feel this type of way, it was childish. Jean was no one in particular to you aside from someone you had been having casual hookups with, there had been no feelings involved. Jean wasn't your man, he had been there to help you forget about Floch, so Jean's personal affairs shouldn't be a hindrance to you, let alone be any of your business or concern. You told yourself that to be true, but even you didn't believe in yourself.

Glasses of champagne had been poured as refreshments and topped off for refills as the dinner commenced. Light classical tones of a live musician playing a tune of Erik Satie on a grand piano from another section of the building trickled into the dining area.

The pad of your index finger taps on the glass of your champagne to the melody while you hold the drink in your hand as you glance around the restaurant while others laugh cheerfully across the table. You had been relatively quiet the whole evening, aside from quick responses and dry laughs whenever you were talked to directly, but when it came to initiating conversation you remained silent.

Your line of sight casts over toward the right side of the table, lips against the rim of your glass as you intake the rest of your champagne while glancing at Jean. As if Jean can sense your eyes on him, he turns his head to the left, his eyes glancing off into the distance before his eyes snatch to you, instinctively finding yours and holding eye contact with you. There is a catch in your throat as you exhale deeply. Throughout the evening, your eyes caught onto Jean's more than a handful of times whenever you'd glance around to see Jean looking at you. And each time, your heart would swell with a dull pressure.

"Would you like more champagne?" Jean leans towards you so he could be heard by you from over the volume of the table, referring to the bottle of champagne that had been left in a bucket of ice for the group.

"No, thank you, Jean," you place the tall glass down beside your half-eaten plate of pasta, "I am going to go freshen up before they start digging into dessert," you say while taking the napkin you had laid in your lap on top of the table as you push your seat back and stand to your feet. "I will be right back," you announce to the table.

The palms of your hands run along the fabric of your dress to adjust your appearance. You press your weight against your chair to slide it back under the table before deciding to wander off to find the restroom. Just as you make an exit out of the dining area, you glance over your left shoulder only to notice Jean watching you make your exit.

You needed a moment alone to gather yourself. Not that you didn't enjoy the others who were around you, but, you wanted to get ahold of your thoughts and feelings and gain control of your emotional stability to prevent a shadow of gloom from casting over the others. The thought of being jealous was absurd, there was no reason to be jealous over something so simple as Jean eyeballing his assumed ex, yet, you couldn't shake the bitter feeling that had been lingering deep in a pit inside of you.

Frosted cranberry-scented soap bubbles were frothy against your palms as you scrubbed your hands under the warm sink water, letting out internal frustration. You were at a crossroads with yourself by both your mind and body going against each other. Logically, you knew that there was no reason to feel so bitter, but your body wasn't listening to your own sound reasoning.

The paper towel was ripped with one swift motion from the dispenser before you began to pat your hands dry. You crumple the paper towel into a tight ball before tossing the used paper into the waste bin. Just before you decide on leaving the restroom, you touch up both your hair and makeup before venturing off back to the table.

As you were walking back to join the group, your attention is drawn towards a set of tall French doors with glass windows that lead out to the outside. You can see from inside that it is a dimly lit outside patio with the option of dining outside. Without thinking, or without any reason, you are drawn to the exit doors and make your quiet approach to the cold autumn nighttime.

**Listen to 'My Luv' by RINI and Bibi Bourelly now to get the full feels of this scene**

You stand just before the railing of the restaurant's patio, staring out into the shining night sky of the city lights. Luckily enough for you, no one else was to be seen outside due to the chilling temperature the nighttime brought about. Sheer white vapor exhales from your parted lips as you take the bustling scenery in. You clasp your palms around your upper arms and rub your skin hoping the friction warms you up as you stand alone outside.

It was times like this you enjoyed, times that brought to you a sense of clarity and peace.

You can hear the door from the restaurant open and close, and you retain your own bubble and ignore the other restaurantgoers while you stay pinned in your own little world. That is until you feel a warm and heavy material blanket your shoulders as Jean's voice softly speaks your name into presence in the night's atmosphere.

You're pulled from your own headspace to turn and look at Jean who was standing behind you, and you notice that he too was staring out at the city lights.

"What are you doing out here all by yourself, is there something bothering you?" Jean's eyes are staring out at the city lights before he turns to look at you.

"Jean," your lips buzz as you gather something to tell him, "nothing is bothering me, I just wanted some fresh air is all," you lie.

The old Eddison bulbs hanging in fixed arrays shine warm light which cascades over both you and Jean. Though there is scarce lighting, Jean is illuminated by the warm light, and the warm light dusts over Jean which makes his skin glow.

"Is that so?" His eyes lead back out to the city lights as he turns his head, his face dips downward as he hangs his head in between his arms that he has perched on the railing.

Jean is quiet for a moment, the silence envelopes you two, but the silence isn't uncomfortable. Without any premeditation, Jean lifts his head, eyes still drawing out to the distance. You cut your attention away from watching his facial features and go back to gazing out at the moving city as well.

Your fingertips pinch at the sides of Jean's heavy coat that he draped over your shoulders just a few moments ago, closing the fabric over yourself to give yourself some warmth. Without looking, Jean leans to the left which allows his arm to press against yours, his body heat radiating off onto you. His presence warms you up even though you were only parallel to each other.

"I don't know," Jean states while messing with his hands, "I feel like there's something bothering you, did I do anything to upset you? Did something happen with your ex again? I'm here to listen to you if you have anything to say."

You weren't sure if it were scary or impressive how well Jean could read you like a book.

Yes and yes.

"You didn't do anything to upset me, Jean," another lie from you, "and yes, kinda sorta, I saw him earlier today with the same girl and I've been in a weird mood ever since then. It's so odd because I don't even care about him anymore, but I guess realizing that I was probably cheated on with that girl is what irks me."

Jean's jacket acts as your cocoon as you try to shield yourself away from the rest of the world as you pour your heart out. Though Jean was looking face forward out at the city, it didn't mean he wasn't paying attention any less.

Jean's chest drops as he exhales as if he had come to a mental agreement about something before taking a step back away from the patio railing. Turning on your right foot, you watch as Jean takes another step forward, but this time he approaches you directly. Jean places his hands on the railing at either side of you, you fluidly step back into place, your rear end pressing into the cold safety fence behind you. You were now enclosed in Jean's presence as his long strong arms trapped you in place. You could drown in Jean's familiar cologne due to how close he was to you.

His head is bent so that way his eyes were all on you, only on you. The sides of his face were illuminated and glowing from the warm Eddison bulbs, but a shadow was cast over the depths of his face. Even though a majority of his face was blanketed with darkness, his amber eyes still radiated with brightness as he was holding eye contact with you.

You could feel your rampant heartbeat vibrate your entire body as you stood pressed against the safety rail. You felt like your entire world was closing in whenever Jean says your name for another time in a hushed tone.

"I know that my original offer was for the other night back at the Halloween party, but, I'd like to clarify some more," Jean's chest rises and falls as if he was gathering the courage to speak. "I would be more than willing to help you forget about him and what he did to you, whenever you need it," Jean dips his head down closer to you, waiting to hear your response, "I don't mind."

'Whenever you need it' repeats over and over again in your head.

"Jean," you peer up at him through your eyelashes as his face lingers dangerously close to yours.

There are no other words said or shared between you two as Jean's lips hover just above yours, you couldn't even begin to fathom a reply as you were more focused on how it would feel for your lips to connect with Jean's. You feel his warm exhales of anticipation fan your skin, sending a cool shiver up your spine. Instead of the bitter feeling you'd been feeling all night, now there was a new feeling erupting in your core, you couldn't place the emotion, all you knew is that your body yearned to be touched by Jean- no, craved.

A jolt of electricity shoots through your body and all of your extremities whenever Jean's lips finally press against yours. Your feet felt embedded in the ground, like you could never be moved and that nothing could come in your way with Jean, yet at the same time you felt lighter than air and that a simple wind could brush past you and knock you over.

As you stand lip-locked with Jean on the restaurant's dimly lit patio, you feel his body heat axis ring against you. Jean's hands grip the railing as the kiss deepens and is filled with more passion. Your nose is swamped with his sweet whiskey scent as Jean's presence engulfs you.

Jean's knuckles burn white as his fingers crease the metal pole, wanting to do nothing more than grab ahold of you, but he held himself back. Jean's pelvis presses into you as he drinks you in, slow yet deep kisses you two share. His tongue grazes against your lower lip and you immediately allow him entrance. Jean's tongue brushes over yours in a smooth motion and swirls back around. You two play this battle for a moment, but it is clear to you that Jean is much more powerful than you, much more dominant, you knew you couldn't win but it was more than pleasurable trying.

A sweet moan forms in the back of your throat and is muffled by Jean's mouth. Jean would more than happily take you right then and there if applicable, but both you and Jean knew better to commit such a scandalous act at a time and place like this. Instead, Jean stood before you, pressing into you gingerly as you reach your hands up to the back of his neck to have him deepen the kiss and form more into you. Naturally, your hand runs through his lengthy hair, grabbing onto the man and refusing to never let him go. Your muffled moans seep through the corners of your mouth as you and Jean would bob your heads in a synchronized rhythm together. Every time Jean would hear you moan would result in the corners of his lips perking up into a grin. How he loved hearing you make sounds of pleasure from his doing.

Unable to take much more, Jean caves in as his fingers release the railing and his hands push through the opening of his coat that you worse and slip onto your body. His hands instantly rake your body over, feeling along all of your dips and curves through the tight fabric of your dress. Naturally, Jean pulls you in close to him, his hips now pressing into you as the passionate kiss continues without any pauses or hiccups. The two of you share a groove together that is seamless and natural.

Though the two of you could've kept going with your passionate make-out session, Jean reluctantly pulls his lips away from yours. As soon as his lips are peeled away from yours, you heave in deep shaky breaths of hot air. Jean dips his head to you once again, his forehead pressing against yours as he too takes a moment to catch his breath.

"I have missed seeing you around," Jean's voice is patchy with the intake and exhale of shallow breaths as he says your name.

Hearing Jean say this makes your insides swell with splendor. The corners of your mouth poke upward into a bashful grin as you peer down, reliving the information Jean had just revealed to you.

"Really? Why's that, Jean," you were curious to know, but, mainly you wanted to hear what Jean had to say.

Jean's chest vibrates as he chuckles breathlessly, "are you seriously going to make me say it? Fine, if I'm being honest with you, I enjoy your presence, that's why I've missed seeing you around."

Truth be told, you had missed Jean entirely way too much. Much more than you would've thought or expected, but you weren't going to tell him that.

His bright hazel eyes are darkened as you tilt your chin up, locking eye contact with him. All humorous tones had cleared from his voice. Jean's eyebrows are slightly pinched together as he stares down at you, his right hand reaching for your face as he continues holding eye contact. You fell into a trance staring at the man, feeling the warmth his hand brought to your cheek as the pad of his thumb strokes smoothly against your skin. Jean hadn't given you any time to speak, let any time to form a thought and think on what he had said.

Jean's fingertips lightly press into your face as he maneuvers your head back, chin tilting back as he places one last soft kiss on your lips, "I think it's time we head back in before they come searching for us."

You nod your head in a brief motion, watching Jean as he retracts his hand away from your face to brush his long fingers through his hair. Jean is close beside you as he leads the way back to the glass window pane door. You made sure to shrug off Jean's coat and return it back to him just before entering the inside of the restaurant.

Just as you were passing through the threshold of the door, a thought occurs to you, "so, were you looking for me?"

Amber eyes glance down at you then back straightforwardly, "I was worried about you, and I had this feeling that something was bothering you throughout the evening, so I came looking for you to make sure that everything was alright."

"Thank you for checking up on me," a content smile is plastered on your face.

The thought of Jean's ex would have to be tucked and buried away into the deepest parts of your brain, at least for now, at least for the rest of the night. With the thought of Jean's ex out of the picture, you could enjoy the rest of the time you had together with Jean before dinner was over.

They always say that ignorance is bliss.

That's exactly what you were going to do. There was no need to dwell over something that you couldn't control. Controlling who Jean's ex was was way out of your power, the only thing you could try to do at least was not let the fact bother you so much. Not that there was a real reason to care anyway, Jean wasn't your boyfriend, his loyalties didn't lie to you, and neither did yours to him. Besides, being wound up in a new relationship after recently being broken up with would've been too soon. To you, hooking up to forget about Floch was currently the best option, you got what you wanted without any ties, without any commitment. And it seemed that Jean had no issue with hooking up either.

The group at the dinner table was steadfast in talking to one another, it almost seemed like no one even noticed or recalled you stepping away in the first place, let alone Jean as well. Whenever both you and Jean approached the table, a few eyes glanced at you and smiles followed suit as you were welcomed back to the table.

"Welcome back, while you were gone we sang happy birthday as dessert was served and I was about to open my gifts that everyone brought," Armin informs you.

Jean pulls your seat out for you from under the table, and you rightfully take your seat back with everyone else. Jean helps push you back into place before he takes his seat right beside you.

"Let's see it, shall we?" Jean says, his chin resting on the palm of his right hand as he has his arm propped up on the table, his expression seems flat but his voice is saucy enough.

You catch his hazel eyes glancing over at you after Jean finishes speaking to Armin. The corner of Jean's lips pins into a sly smile after he notices you catch him glancing at you while he corrects his posture and sits up straight in his chair, his chest flaring broadly. Or, rather, he smiles after seeing you had stolen a glance at him just as he did the same to you.

By the time Armin was finished with opening the gifts he had received from everyone you had finished your slice of birthday cake that was provided by Marco, and everyone's tab had already been settled.

Before anyone from the table were to depart again, Eren halts everyone from moving any further as he pulls out his cell phone.

"Sit your asses down, we need to take a couple of group pics with the birthday boy," he announces, staring straight at his phone as his thumb taps on the camera application.

Eren stands to his feet and crouches a bit as he holds his phone up to take a group selfie of the table. Everyone around the table gets ready and into position, you take a second to readjust yourself and get ready for the photo before leaning in and over to the side to be seen by the camera. You feel Jean's left arm snake around your shoulder along with his weight shifting towards you slightly which causes a chill you race up your spine. You take a quick second to glance over your right shoulder to look at him, his eyes are pinned on the cell phone in Eren's hands and there was a bright smile on his face. Quickly, your attention is back forward to the selfie that was about to be taken, your lips are peeled into a cheerful smile as Eren counts down from three.

"Happy birthday, Armin," Eren cheers, snapping a shot of the moment.

Everyone goes back to normal and falls out of poses. You notice Mikasa's eyes are on you and Jean as his arm slips away from around your shoulder. A knot twists in your stomach with an unpleasant feeling even though she is smiling at you. The feeling you try to ignore as you push your chair back away from the table and stand to your feet.

You follow along with everyone outside of the restaurant, Armin leading the group with Eren by his side, and to Armin's left was Mikasa. You fell somewhere in between the mix of everyone, with Jean still right beside you, of course. You were holding casual conversation all the way out of the building until you hear Eren call out your name. Your attention is pulled to the front of the group, noticing Eren had stopped to turn around and look for you.

"Yes?" you continue to make your approach.

"Would you be up to stopping by the frat? We are going to play some games before calling it a night if you'd like to join, we are all heading that way from here."

"Sure, I don't see why not," you pull out your phone to contact your taxi service, "I just need the address for my uber."

Jean's large hand fans for your attention, "don't worry about wasting money and calling an uber, I can drive us back to the house," Jean's hand digs into his pants pocket as he pulls out his set of keys.