#disregard the part where it takes me over a month to read one relatively short book

[ratsetflummi]

me, at the start of the dark elf trilogy: ugh, what is this pretentious bullshit, why would anyone ever like this guy

me, three months later, at the end of the dark elf trilogy: *unintelligible sobbing*

[mcwriting]

Live from New York, it’s Saturday Night!

In which the reader is the musical guest at Saturday Night Live the same week Tom Holland is hosting.

Ship: Reader x Tom Holland

Word Count: 5747 (what in the heck?? my longest piece ever lol)

Warnings: Mild alcohol consumption

Rating: K

Preface: I mention the NBC page program, which is like an intense internship/fellowship with the company where college grads work with at least 3 parts of the company over a year to get job exposure. A lot of famous actors and actresses were pages!

***

Walking into 30 Rockefeller Center on Wednesday afternoon was a surreal experience for sure. As a young NBC page led you through hallways and up to studio 8H, you were getting butterflies.

On one side of the hall was a sign for studio 8G, which hosted Late Night with Seth Meyers, but the page turned the other way, guiding you through doors to the Saturday Night Live studio.

There was hustle and bustle all around you as she took you to your green room, which had a sign printed with your name on it over an NYC skyline. You almost pinched yourself.

You had known for about a month that you’d be performing as the musical guest for SNL the upcoming weekend, but now that you were here for your first rehearsal, things were getting real. 

When your manager had asked if you wanted to play the show, she’d been met by your enthusiastic “YES! Are you kidding me?!” It was even better when she mentioned who the host would be:

Tom Holland.

You’d watched every season of SNL since you were probably in middle school. You could easily name off every cast member but would have to remember to keep your cool until after Saturday.

Another thing you’d need to stay cool about was Spiderman himself. You had the biggest crush on him, but who your age didn’t? He was charming and British, disregarding physical features. You were most nervous to meet him. 

The page let you put your things down and took you to Lorne Michael’s office where he and some of the production team wanted to talk to you about your set. You’d only get two songs, but one of the writers also asked if you’d want to be in a couple sketches, too.

Later that evening would be the normal pitch meeting, where writers who’d spent all Tuesday afternoon and night into the early hours of Wednesday writing finally got to show the host and cast their ideas. They’d narrow it down to eight, so you were surprised they wanted you in not one, but two sketches.

It wasn’t difficult to say yes to that. You wouldn’t be present for the pitch meeting, however, because in just a few short hours you’d be heading down to studio 6B to film a segment for Jimmy Fallon’s show. 

Your management team stayed behind at the hotel to work on details for a couple concerts you had and were planning to head up to the studio before your interview.

After the meeting, you were shown around to familiarize yourself with the studio and stage before starting your first rehearsal. For one song, it would be just you and a piano, but the other song would have a band playing while you sang and did some limited choreography. 

You sat in front of the keys of a beautiful grand piano, stretching your fingers. Someone requested you play one of your songs, so you looked around, as if asking for permission. Everyone in the room nodded for you to play, so you began the tune of your favorite song from your album.

Your voice wasn’t warm and there wasn’t a mic on you, but you got lost in the lyrics and chords like you always did. By the song’s end, you’d drawn a small crowd. They clapped and you blushed when you finished, closing the lid and standing to do a sheepish curtsy. 

Most of the small crowd dissipated and you were talking to some crew about stage setup when someone interrupted you.

“Sorry to bother, but that was incredible. Can’t wait to hear how good you’ll be this weekend,” said a male voice with a distinct London accent. You turned to find Tom Holland right in front of you. 

“Oh, well, thank you! I- I uh, didn’t expect to meet you so soon,” you stuttered, thrusting out a hand. “Y/n y/l/n.”

He gripped your hand firmly and shook it, nodding his head once, too.

“Tom Holland. You know I was excited when I heard you’d be performing the same week I host. The last film I did, we listened to your music like, all the time. You could say I’m a fan.”

Was this real? Tom Holland was a fan of you!? You chuckled.

“I could definitely say the same for you. I love your movies. ‘Been a fan for years.”

You both smiled happily and Tom was about to respond when the page who’d been showing you around the whole time came up.

“Sorry to interrupt, but Miss y/l/n, they’ve asked to get your measurements in costuming if that’s okay.”

“Oh! Yes of course!” you said to her, then turned to Tom. “Sorry. It was nice meeting you! See you around?”

“Of course! Nice meeting you also!”

As the young girl led you away again, you missed where a younger brother of Tom said to him,

“Think you’re in love yet?”

***

After an eventful visit at the Tonight Show that included you and Jimmy playing box of lies and performing one of your songs for the audience, you headed back up to 8H alone. 

You’d remembered leaving something in your dressing room and had let your team go on back to the hotel without you. You’d felt confident that you could sneak back to your hotel safely without causing a big ruckus. It was only a few blocks away.

You were digging in your bag for your phone when you bumped into someone. Each of you said a quick “oh, sorry!” before looking to see who the other was.

It was Tom again.

You hadn’t realized before, but his room was the one right next to yours. It made sense, both of you being guests and all, but you were still caught off guard. 

“Headed out?” he asked. You felt yourself blushing a little.

“Yeah, well. I just finished at Fallon’s and they don’t need me back here until tomorrow so I’m heading back to my hotel to order pizza for my whole team and then crash,” you laughed. 

“Oh yeah? That sounds about like what we’re doing,” Tom gestured back to his brother and best friend, who you shook hands with gladly. 

You talked as you wound through the halls and quickly realized you were all staying at the same place.

“That’s crazy! We were just going to get a cab if you want to just come with us. I’m already paying for it, so...” he offered. You were surprised.

“What? No, no, I couldn’t just ride on your coattails like that,” you started.

“No seriously, y/n. It’s fine! We’re literally all going to the same place and no one can bother us from a taxi cab. You don’t even have to talk to us if you don’t want to.”

You looked at the other two boys questioningly and they nodded, encouragingly nodding for you to accept the offer. 

“Okay, okay! If all of you are fine with it, I’ll come.”

They cheered and you continued in happy conversation as you headed downstairs. A doorman called a cab for you and you piled in. Harry took the front and you offered to take the middle, sandwiched between Harrison and Tom.

Never in a million years had you expected to be in such close proximity to one, much less all, of them. It was a short drive and the driver took you to a back entrance, the place celebrities usually entered.

You still weren’t quite used to the star life. Up until you’d hit it big, it was normal for you to do pretty much everything yourself and stay in relatively cheap hotels like any other person.

Now, your management team handled most things and you were staying in five star places with secret celebrity entrances and prices that would probably make your grandmother faint.

Inside, you’d also realized you were on the same floor, both of you staying in large suites used by many elites over the years. You parted ways, anticipating seeing each other in the morning for rehearsals and later that evening when you’d be doing Seth Meyers’ show together.

***

The studio was buzzing when you entered Thursday morning. Your small team headed straight for the dressing room as you were taken away to a sketch read. Both sketches the writers had asked you about had been greenlit, so you were excited to work on them

“Morning, y/n. How was the pizza?” Tom asked cheekily when you first walked in. A couple of people passing by gave strange looks but said nothing.

“Well, who doesn’t love a good New York slice, huh? I’d say it was pretty darn good. And you?”

“We ended up getting room service, but pizza’s definitely next on my list,” he joked before you were handed scripts and asked to review them. The writers and cast were trying to figure out some basic spacing as you looked over your lines and cues.

You finally got to work rehearsing the two sketches. You broke a couple times when Kate landed a punchline and when Beck accidentally tripped. 

When they decided to move on from those, you where whisked away to wardrobe and makeup to shoot "bumper” stills and videos, the photos and clips between sketches and commercial breaks. 

You were excited to see how they envisioned your style and personality and would bring it to life. The photographer collaborated with you and shot some really incredible photos, both serious and goofy.

Next you were back in music rehearsals figuring out more about the staging and running some diagnostic sound checks. Once lunchtime came around, your stomach was growling.

You just barely caught Tom as you went for lunch, he was finishing up as you built your plate. As it always seemed, you only got a few words in with each other before someone was dragging Tom off for his own photoshoot.

You got to talk to Harry and Harrison for a little bit, too, until your manager asked to have a quick meeting about your schedule. Once you were free, you were taken to costuming to try a few things on and figure out hair styles that would fit the show.

There were more music rehearsals and you read the new scripts (as they had already been rewritten twice now). You were pretty tired by the time someone asked you to head across the hall to prepare for Late Night.

You grabbed a quick bite to eat on your way out of 8H and finished is by the time you were in the doors of 8G and a page led you to your green room, once again located next to Tom’s. 

Since you were both doing SNL together, you and Tom were going to be interviewed together, but you also had the added bonus of being the musical guest again. 

You only needed to rehearse a couple times to get the sound down (it’s not like it’s live, so you could easily restart if something went wrong). Once you were finished, they brought in the studio audience and you got a chance to go back to your green room and chill for a little while. 

Seth had a couple other guests, so while you were waiting, you knocked on Tom’s door to greet him and discuss the talking points each of your management had given Seth.

As the in-house band was warming up, Seth came into the room.

“Well I didn’t expect to see both of you in here,” he joked, shaking both of you hands. Tom had been on the show before, but this was your first time meeting the host. 

After a couple minutes, Seth was informed of the time and made his leave, going out to meet his audience and begin taping. After his monologue and the first guest, you and Tom were called to the stage.

“Now for our nexts guests we have both the host and musical guest of this weekend’s Saturday Night Live, Tom Holland and y/n y/l/n! Come on out here!”

Tom gestured for you to go ahead of him, so you walked out, waving to the cheering crowd. You took the seat nearest to Seth’s desk. 

“Well hello, there. Good to see you two,” he greeted as you settled in. “Welcome back, Tom, and welcome for the first time, y/n.”

“Wait this is your first time here?” Tom asked incredulously. You laughed.

“Yeah! Up until a few months ago like, no one knew who I was. Not even Seth!” you poked right back. Seth jokingly agreed. 

The interview went well, both of you telling some funny stories and explaining how the week was going. Finally, you cut for a commercial.

“Alright we’ll return with y/n and Tom after this short break!”

You were right back to the interview after the commercial “break.” Towards the end of it, you all got off on the subject of alcohol.

“You are 21, right?” Tom asked you. You rolled your eyes and gave an exaggerated hair flip.

“Yes, I am of the legal age. You should know as well as anyone what it’s like to have a baby face,” you roasted, causing the audience to go “ohh!” and Tom and Seth to raise their eyebrows.

“Wow looks like we’ve got a little rivalry now. The real question is who can handle their alcohol better. I think we oughta bring you two back for my day drinking segment to settle this!”

Both of you overconfidently pointed at yourselves when Seth asked who was better with alcohol.

“Now that’s an idea I can get behind!” you exclaimed before the interview finally wrapped up and you got ready to go sing. Tom and Seth stayed at the desk while you performed, which thankfully only took one shot.

As you wrapped up the show, you gave final waves to the audience and then headed offstage. You and Tom walked through the halls together and Seth caught up with you after finishing his outro.

He thanked you both for being on the show, you took a few pictures, then talked for a while. Seth was eventually called away to look at something, so you said your goodbyes to him and continued towards the green rooms.

“You were great tonight. Your voice is phenomenal,” Tom said to you. “and honestly I can’t believe you haven’t been doing talkshows that long. You’re a natural.”

“I think it has a lot to do with the fact that I love to talk about myself,” you quipped. “But seriously, thank you. Everything leading up to now has happened so fast, it’s hard to really gauge if things are going well or not.”

“I can relate to that. It’s hard, but having my family and brothers helps keep me grounded, you know? Harrison, too. They know that they can call me out and, yeah, I might get mad at first, but I understand that they’re keeping me from getting a big head.”

“Yeah I can’t imagine how overnight it must have been for you. My family and friends definitely don’t miss the chance to poke a little fun here and there to keep my ego down, too. You know, it’s nice talking to someone who understands for once. I love them, but unfortunately they’ll never fully get what it’s like, but you do,” you smiled.

You talked a little more, then spilt off to actually go to get ready to leave the building for the night. The upcoming Friday was going to be a long one.

Once again, you let your manager and assistant and everyone leave ahead of you. Regardless of whether you would hitch a ride with Tom again, you could find your way around easily.

You waited by the door until you heard their voices nearing and the boys came into the hallway.

“Oh y/n, you’re still here, too,” Harry said.

“Yeah, I was trying to decide what to do for dinner tonight before I head back to the hotel.”

“Well we’re going to grab some pizza if you want to join us,” Harrison offered happily, causing Tom to look at him funny. 

“Y/n probably doesn’t want to be bothered by us all day every day and plus, she had pizza last night, I’m sure she doesn’t want it again. Sorry, y/n, don’t feel pressured by this div,” Tom said apologetically.

“Honestly, I could eat pizza everyday, so that’s not an issue, and I honestly love hanging out with you guys. You remind me of my friends back home. If y’all want to eat together, I seriously would not mind.”

“Really?” Tom asked incredulously, then recomposed himself. “Well, yeah, sure. We were gonna head back to the hotel to change clothes and then figure things out from there, is that okay?”

“That sounds perfect, except I’m paying the cab fare this time.”

***

In most situations, a group of guys you’d only known a couple of days asking you into their hotel room would be a major red flag, and it probably still should have been, but you threw caution to the wind and went to Tom’s suite anyways.

Harry answered the door and let you in, and inside you found Tom and Harrison on the floor of the living space drinking beers. They both raised their cans up to you as you came in.

All three of the boys were in simple sweats and t-shirts, similar to you in your leggings and sweatshirt. It wasn’t much later that Harry went to the lobby to retrieve the pizzas they’d ordered and you were all digging in, seated around the coffee table talking.

You all discussed random things, poking fun at each other like you were old friends. It was like they’d already accepted you as one of their own.

“How you think this weekend’s gonna go, y/n?” Tom asked between swigs of his ale.

“I’d say pretty good. I’m hella nervous though. SNL is like its own universe.”

“You can say that again. This is like nothing I’ve ever done before.”

“Oh, come on. You two are both going to do great Saturday. Don’t think too much about it and just have fun,” Harrison encouraged as you continued eating.

Throughout the evening, you couldn’t help but pick up on the way you and Tom kept making eye contact. It was brief, but it was different than how you and Harry or Harrison looked at each other. There was something else there.

Your stomach fluttered. Who else could say that they spent an evening drinking with their biggest celebrity crush? And then continually exchange flirty looks?

At one point Tom even tossed a wink at you after cracking a joke, causing your heartbeat to quicken momentarily. 

After getting lost in conversation with the boys, you realized the time and prepared to excuse yourself back to your own room. The coming morning was going to be an early one, after all. 

“Oh man, I better head out. We’ve got a long day ahead of us,” you commented, stretching as you stood up. The boys followed suit.

“Wow I didn’t even realize how long we’ve been sitting here,” Tom added.

“Yeah. Thanks again for letting me come over tonight. I haven’t gotten to do something like this in a while so it’s nice to just spend time with people who I don’t pay to hang around me all day, you know?”

“I understand and definitely can agree, since these divs are kind of paid to hang around me.”

You all laughed as Tom walked you to the door. 

“Well. See you bright and early...” you trailed.

“Yeah, see you then,” Tom answered, awkwardly sticking out his arms for a hug. You obliged, squeezing your arms around his neck as his held your waist.

And goodness did he give good hugs.

***

You were definitely tired walking into 8H Friday morning. The caffeinated drink in hand helped a little, but late night beers paired with waking up early didn’t quite go hand in hand.

It wasn’t really a hangover either, since you hadn’t been fully drunk, but it didn’t help the exhaustion from traveling, working the past two days, and a lack of sleep.

The first thing you had to do was rehearse your songs for Saturday as the set team worked on transporting and putting together large set pieces that had been made at the navy yard in Brooklyn.

Tom and the cast weren’t far away, figuring the live show with costuming and quick changes along with doing some pre-filmed sketches. The writers were continually making adjustments and figuring out how things would be done. 

They eventually called you over, too, to rehearse your sketches and film one of them. You had to get used to the costumes and cue cards and blocking of each. There had been some minor changes as well, so you had to be quick on your feet.

By lunchtime, all the cast took a well deserved break to sit and have a bite. The writers were having to shuffle around while they tried to eat as you and Tom sat down to talk some more.

“Hey, sorry to bug you, but do you guys mind if I take a picture or two for the SNL social media accounts?” a page asked while you were munching on sandwiches.

You and Tom looked at each other and shrugged.

“Fine with me,” you answered, Tom giving a similar reply. The two of you leaned in next to each other, holding up your sandwiches and laughing.

A few photos were snapped and you and Tom approved of them to be posted online. You thought nothing of it as you went to more rehearsals, working through the show’s order and trying to get down timing before Saturday’s dress rehearsal and show.

You couldn’t help but laugh watching the sketches, as this was your first time seeing the ones you weren’t a part of. Tom’s comedic timing and dry British humor paired well with the material he was given.

When the day came to an end, you were looking through instagram and gathering your things. You went to SNL’s page and put the post of you and Tom together onto your story, adding the text “Can’t wait for everyone to see my favorite sandwich partner host the show tomorrow!”

As before, you thought nothing of it and posted the story, heading out the door to ride back with Tom and the boys.

***

At the hotel, you and Tom had decided to not hang out for the evening since you’d be having a late, late night Saturday and wanted to get some sleep. You opened up social media as you laid in bed to wind down.

You decided to look at the picture of you and Tom from lunch again and read some comments, hoping there would be some funny ones and whatnot.

Instead, you found hundreds of comments saying “omg ship” and “my two faves together” and “this couple would be everything!!” 

You were honestly shocked to see people saying that about you, especially since you had never heard of your fans indicating that they wanted to see you two together.

Twitter was also buzzing over you and Tom’s picture, some fan pages just talking about either one of you, while others also talked about shipping you.

In your heart, you kind of enjoyed it, since you were hardcore crushing on Tom now, but you had no idea how he felt.

Did he like you back? Did he just think of you as just a friend or acquaintance? Was he secretly dating someone and you were just reading too much into it? 

It was much to think about, so instead you closed your phone and fell into a deep slumber.

***

You didn’t have to be in the studio as early as the past days since dress rehearsal wasn’t until 8pm and the show started at 11:30. You felt better rested than the day before, but butterflies were constantly erupting in your stomach.

You and Tom caught each other at the building’s entrance and went up the elevators together.

“Ready for tonight?” you asked, tapping a foot anxiously.

“Absolutely not. You?”

“Same here. Not only is it going to be watched by millions, but some of the most important people in my life are coming and I’m freaking out a little.”

“Oh yeah?” he asked softly. “And who would that be?”

“Well, my parents and some friends from home. I can sing in front of sold out stadiums but I still get nervous if I know they’re in a crowd. It’s stupid, I know.”

“No I totally get it. My parents and brothers will all be here, too, and my heart races when they watch my work. The best advice ever given to me, though was ‘turn nerves into excitement,’ and that’s exactly what I’m trying to do.”

You nodded and smiled up at him.

“That is pretty good. Thanks,” you replied as the elevator doors opened. 

The halls were bustling with what seemed like every employee as you headed to your green room. It wasn’t long before you were being thrown updated scripts and rehearsing again.

Finally as dusk turned to night, the dress rehearsal audience seats began filling up. You were bouncing nervously in the hall as you watched the cast begin the cold open on a monitor.

“Nervous?” a male voice asked quietly next to you. It was Tom, of course. You bobbed your head from side to side.

“Excited,” you replied cheekily. He smiled and was about to say something else when a crew member came by to lead him to his starting place for the monologue. He gave a quick wave before heading backstage, instead. 

The dress rehearsal went okay, certain jokes and lines being cut and rearranged by the end for time. Thankfully the audience received everything well, for the most part. 

Your own music and sketches felt like a rush, but you were proud. Tom’s advice had really gotten to you, because you were bubbling with excited anticipation for 11:30 broadcast to begin.

There was about an hour between dress and the actual taping, so you scarfed down a few bites of food and tried to shake out some jitters. You also sipped some caffeinated hot tea and did vocal runs to stay in tip top shape. 

Your friends and family stopped by the green room to say hi before they joined the audience, giving you hugs and encouragement for the evening ahead.

As the clock neared 11:30, you were walking down a hall already dressed for your first song when you almost bumped into Tom.

“Oh, hey! Great job at dress! You’re gonna do amazing,” you immediately said, making him beam.

“Thank you! And you too! Your voice is on fire tonight, as if it’s ever not.”

“You haven’t heard me try to sing sick, then. I sound like a diseased animal.” You shook your hands and head to dismiss yourself. “But, uh, earlier I was gonna tell you ‘break a leg’ and then I remembered you used to dance, sooo... merde.”

Tom raised his brows and chuckled. 

“You know that phrase too?” You nodded. “Well then merde to you, too. Oh, and I was wanting to ask if tonig-” 

Tom was cut off by someone once again needing to drag him away to prepare for the show, causing you both to toss waves at each other again. Maybe he’d finish his thought later.

This was it. The real deal. 

You took that as a cue to find your place by the monitors until after Tom’s monologue and the commercial break, when you’d start moving to stand with the band.

The cold open landed well, and you felt chills hearing two of the cast yell,

“And live from New York, IT’S SATURDAY NIGHT!”

The classic jazz music of SNL played over the intro and Tom made his way down the iconic steps to do his monologue. 

Your heart fluttered seeing him stand on that stage with a wide smile, waving at the crowd. He was dressed in a blue suit and his curls were styled just right. He looked incredible.

The monologue landed well and you felt an even bigger flutter as you heard Tom lead into commercial, saying the iconic line,

“We have a great show for you tonight! Y/n Y/l/n is here! So stick around we’ll be right back!”

With that the camera panned out and cut, and chaos began as the crew moved everyone to set the first live sketch. In the meantime, a prefilmed sketch played, the one you had participated in.

The audience cheered and laughed at your surprise appearance in the sketch, which made you feel really good. You had moved now to a place where you could see the stage in person.

The camera panned in as the audience applauded and the next sketch began. Even after having seen it multiple times that week, you couldn’t help but laugh as the ridiculous character Tom played so well. 

When they cut to another commercial break, it was your time to get ready to sing the first song. 

Your stomach fluttered like it always did before a show, but Tom shot you a thumbs up before the break ended and boosted your confidence. A camera was pointed in his face as he calmly said,

“Ladies and gentlemen, y/n y/l/n,” as he gestured towards you.

The lights came up and you began playing, and you became lost in the music like always. It came and ended quickly, and suddenly you were listening to the cheers of the audience. You waved and bowed in thanks as the cameras panned again.

Up came the weekend update, your favorite part of any Saturday Night Live. The jokes for the segment were typically written on Saturday, so many of them were new to you. 

Tom came and stood next to you during the update with a bowl-cut red wig dressed in khakis and a sweater vest over a button up. You looked him up and down amused.

“Your performance was amazing,” he whispered.

“Thanks. You’re doing great out there. They love you,” you whispered back.

“I sure hope so. Hey I’ve been trying to ask if-” he started, but then was cut off by someone grabbing him and leading him towards stage for the next sketch. Your stomach fluttered again.

What could he possibly want to ask me?

The live sketch transitioned into a prefilm and then you were up again, this song was more energetic and included some choreography, and you felt confident in the shimmering gold bodysuit and boots you were wearing. 

You happily danced and sung after Tom reintroduced you to the crowd and got a large round of applause. There was only one sketch left of the show and you were in it, so the team rushed you into a quickchange booth offstage to put on your costume and a quick wig.

The sketch began and you stood to the side nervously. When your cue came, you burst onto the stage clumsily, as directed by the script. Your character made some inappropriate comments to Tom’s which garnered you many laughs again.

It was satisfying.

Once the sketch ended, all that was left were the goodnights, so you were again rushed off to change into a cute jumpsuit and reaffix your hair. Tom came out in a blue suit with the jacket unbuttoned, a black tee underneath. 

You rushed to take your place next to him as other cast members filed in around you, Lorne standing in the middle of the room watching to make sure everyone came out. The audience applauded as the music played and camera panned.

After they gave the final countdown, Tom began giving thanks to many people, from cast and crew, to family, and to you.

“I want to give a huge thanks to tonight’s musical guest, y/n y/l/n,” he exclaimed, gesturing to you. The crowd cheered and you laughed and waved, giving him a joking elbow. 

“I love you all! Goodnight!” he finally exclaimed. 

With that, the music was brought up and everyone began hugging as the credits rolled. You immediately turned to Tom and he to you, both of you throwing arms wide. 

You wanted to hug him forever, but realized that it would look fishy and there were many people you still wanted to hug and thank.

Both of you pulled back, giving each other a quick “good job!” before turning to others.

***

You were finally offstage and had said quick goodbyes to your family, who wouldn’t be staying for the afterparty. As you headed towards the greenroom for the last time that night, you were stopped by Tom.

“Hey! Y/n,” he said, putting a hand on your shoulder.

“Oh my gosh there you are!” you said, turning to give him another hug, this one more emotional and less performative.

“I’m serious y/n, you were incredible. I know I’ve said it a million times but you have a real gift. Not to mention your acting skills,” he said into the crook of your neck.

You pulled away to look at him, arms still loosely wrapped around him.

“Well thank you, but you were great too. Everyone loved you. I loved you out there.” You paused for a moment, arms sliding from his shoulders as you continued to walk down the hall. “You know I had a lot of fun this week. Doing this and just hanging out. I was really nervous to meet you.” 

“I did too, and yeah, we were all super nervous to meet you, too. Like I told you before, we listen to your music a lot. But, uh, that being said. All night I’ve been trying to ask if you’d like to go to the afterparty with me?”

“Oh yeah that’s perfect! Are the guys coming too?” you asked enthusiastically, not detecting the nervousness in his voice.

“No, no. I mean, yeah they’ll be there but...” he stopped and you followed suit. “I’d like you to go with me with me. And ideally leave with me... alone.” 

Your eyes widened and breath hitched. Now it clicked. He was asking you out.

“Oh! Well then... I’d like that very much.” You smiled.

“Yeah?” he asked, incredulous.

“Yeah,” you answered.

Let’s just say you were singing a different kind of tune that night once you left to your empty hotel room “with him.”

***

A/N: omg omg omg I started this story forever ago but finally got around to finishing it! No new marriage project chapter this week, I thought I’d just post this to hold y’all over ;) Thanks for reading!

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[thatpizzaoverthere]

A Motorbike, a Sprained Ankle and an Angel in a White Coat

Hi there! This is a Blackinnon modern AU that absolutely no one asked for. I am in the middle of writing another modern Au (the wedding planner one). So why did I write this one? Because I’m an idiot who likes to push boundaries. (read: lazy) I also sprained my ankle, have my leg in a plaster, am filled with painkillers, so do excuse my shitty writing (although I’m not sure if it is the painkillers, or just my inability to write.) Anyway, the story is down below.

A Motorbike, a Sprained Ankle and an Angel in a White Coat

a.k.a “Shirley, a Chipped Bone and, you know, a Doctor”

So, Sirius bought a motorbike. Does he know how to ride one? No. Does him owning a motorbike piss off his parents? Hell yes, and that was honestly the main reason he got one. He also knew chicks dig motorbikes, so what else was he supposed to do?  And that is how one day, he convinced his best mate James to go with him to the shop to get a brand-new motorbike. (And the day before he tagged along with Lily and Alice to the mall to get a leather jacket and aviator sunglasses, because he was Sirius Black, and he doesn’t do things half-heartedly)

Anyway, a few contracts later, and with a few pounds less, Sirius Black walked out of the bike shop with the new love of his life, a motorbike he named Shirley. He offered to give James a ride home, but James laughed him off and said he would rather wait an hour for the Tube than get on that death machine. It wasn’t that he was afraid of the bike, but this was Sirius, and he wasn’t exactly the most careful driver. On top of that, as Sirius had explained, motorbikes were supposed to be driven recklessly.

(Remus’ vein nearly popped out of his head when Sirius explained his theory).

Months have passed, and despite the bet going around when Sirius is going to injure himself (with Lily’s 3 days being the shortest time, to James having the most faith in him and giving him 3 months), Sirius and Shirley were inseparable, and most importantly, not one nor the other received a scratch or worse.

That is, until James birthday.

It was supposed to be a small affair, with just Peter, Alice and Frank, Remus and his new girlfriend Dorcas, and James and Lily in their new flat. Sirius was of course, late (fashionably, as he called it). But it really wasn’t his fault. He cursed at the audacity of the rain to be falling just as he was supposed to drive to the flat. He hated wearing a helmet, arguing that it ruined his hair and bad boy persona.

(For that comment alone, Remus already ordered a wreath to put on Sirius’ grave.)

But the rain wouldn’t stop, so Sirius begrudgingly put a helmet on and rode to James’ flat. On his way, some lunatic nearly ran into him, and he nearly ran over some bloke who darted in front of him. He arrived pissed at the rain and the idiots in traffic, until he got off his motorbike and realized he forgot James’ present. On top of it all, he took of his helmet and his hair was a mess. Frustrated, he let out a groan and kicked his bike. It was a split second after the kick that he realized he forgot to put his bike on her stand, and so Shirley got her revenge by falling directly on her owner. Sirius didn’t know whether to cry or curse at the universe. His right leg and arm were under the bike, and try as he might, he couldn’t get the bike off him. Using his left hand, he dug out his phone from his jacket pocket and rang James.

“Mate, did you already forget where we live? You were here literally yesterday”

“Piss off Prongs”

“Ow Padfoot. Is this the way to talk to your best friend, and on his birthday no less?”

“James, I do not have time for your drama”

“Look who’s talking”

“I am so not in the mood Potter, so could you just come down?”

“Sirius, what happened?”

“What happened? Oh, I’ll tell you what happened. I was getting ready to drive here, when this stupid rain started pouring, so I had to put on a helmet, and as I was on my way here, suddenly everyone decided to disregard traffic rules. To top it off, I forgot your present, so I kicked Shirley, and here I am now, paying for being mean to her, being squashed under her”

“You forgot my present?”

“Is that really all you heard from what I just said, and not the part of me being squashed under 400 lb of metal and plastic?”

“I heard you, dickhead, we’re coming down”Sirius sighed and waited. Shortly after he saw the building’s door being opened and heard his mates laughing when they saw him. He gave them his most murderous look and hissed “Get me out of here”.

“No problem mate, just let me take one quick photo” said James, snapping potential blackmail material, before lifting the bike with Frank. 

“If this ends on any social media, I will murder you” threatened Sirius as Remus hoisted him up. James laughed at him, putting Shirley on her stand. Just as Sirius made a step towards the flat, a jolt of pain spread from his ankle and he found himself on the floor once more. He looked at his right foot and saw his ankle doubled in size. 

“Why do all my birthdays end with one of us ending up in the ER?” asked James when he saw Sirius’ foot.

“Because you’re all idiots who don’t know boundaries” replied Lily, fiddling with her car keys.

“Uncalled for Evans. Besides, there’s no need for me to go to th-” was all he was able to utter before Peter prodded his ankle and another jolt of pain spread. . 

“Don’t know mate, looks pretty bad to me” said the pudgy man. 

Remus lifted Sirius once more, and with Peter’s help, got him into Lily’s car.

“Sorry we had to cut the party so short, but mum would kill me if she heard I didn’t take this wanker to the hospital” said James, entering the car “Feel free to join us. There’s a pub across the hospital, called The Three Broomsticks, and we’ll join you after we sort him out”

“Ok, see you there” “Sure” relied Dorcas, Remus, Peter, Alice and Frank before pilin into Peter’s van, and driving towards the hospital after Lily’s car.  

The drive to the hospital was relatively short, and soon Sirius found himself seated in an uncomfortable orange chair with James beside him, while Lily left to give his details to the nurse. He looked at the clock and saw it was 11:27. Sirius didn’t like hospitals. Although, who did. They were too clean for Sirius’ liking. James had beaten one level on Gardenscapes on his phone when Lily returned. “The doctor is currently in the OR, and when they get back, they’ll take a look at you” she said, sitting next to James. And so, they waited.

Half an hour later, a nurse approached them. “Mr Black? The doctor will see you now. Take him to exam room 1”. James supported him as he hopped on one foot to the room and helped him sit on the exam bed. “Well mate, see you when you’re done” said James and exited the room, leaving Sirius to wait some more alone.

He heard the doctor before he saw her. “Apologies for waiting Mr Black, but there was an urgent appendectomy, but I’m all yours now” she said, removing her surgical mask and giving him a small smile. Sirius sucked in a small breath. Fuck. She had a beautiful smile, showing a hint of pearly white teeth, before she turned her back on him. He could see strands of blonde hair escaping her scrub cap. “So, Mr Black” she said while opening his file on her computer “what brings you here today?”

Here’s another thing: Sirius Black knows his way around women. His good looks partnered with his natural charisma worked like magnets, and he prided himself on his ability to woo women.. He was especially proud of knowing exactly what to say to them. So imagine his distress when he found himself at loss for words in front of his doctor. And it wasn’t like he actually wanted or needed to woo her; she was trying to give him proper medical care. “Mr Black?” she asked after a few seconds of Sirius just staring blankly at her.

“Right, yes. Sorry. Bit dazed. Erm…” What the fuck was he supposed to say to her? Well doc, my bike fell on me because I’m a massive idiot just didn’t sound right. But what good was lying to a doctor? “I own a motorbike” was all he was able to mutter, mentally facepalming himself for his stupidity. “So, were you involved in an accident?” she questioned further. He was a proper git. Good thing James wasn’t here, or else he’d never hear the end of it. “No, there was no accident” he said after some time, but couldn’t for the love of God elaborate further. The doctor frowned and fetched a small flashlight from her desk. “I’m going to check if you had perhaps suffered a concussion” she explained, pointing the flashlight in his right eye “Have you experienced any head trauma, like hitting yourself on the head or being hit by something?”

He blinked at the surge of light, and averted his gaze “No doctor, I just… I did fall, but I haven’t hit my head. The only thing that hurts is my ankle” And my pride. The doctor crouched and surveyed the ankle. “I’m going to touch you around this area, and I need you to tell me where it hurts and how much” she said, and started investigating the swollen area. Seconds passed in the exam room, as the doctor pressed on various areas around his ankle and Sirius letting out ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ when she would reach particularly sensitive spots. After a while, she returned to her computer typing away her diagnosis and explaining it to Sirius “Personally, I believe you only sprained your ankle, but just to make sure, I would like to do an X-ray”

“Yes, doctor” replied Sirius. “I’ll tell the nurses to bring in a wheelchair, so you don’t have to hop all the way to the radiology room” she said, signalling to the nurse, who wheeled him out of the exam room. Sirius saw James braiding Lily’s hair, still seated on those awful orange chairs. “Hey Sirius, what did the doctor say?” asked Lily. “They have to do an X-ray scan, and then we’ll see.” 

The X-ray was done in less than 5 minutes, and Sirius found himself in the exam room once again, mentally preparing himself not to make a fool of himself in front of the doctor. She walked in again, but this time she switched her green scrubs for a classic doctor’s white coat. “Just one question Mr Black: do you do sports?” she asked him, turning her face from her computer towards him. Her eyes were blue “Well, sometimes I play football with my mates. Occasionally do a bit of running here and there” answered Sirius, as the doctor turned her face back to the computer and typed something in. “Here’s the thing Mr Black” she began, turning her monitor towards Sirius. He could see an X-ray scan of his ankle. “As I assumed, you sprained your ankle. But there is this little thing over here” she said, pointing to a spot on the scan “This over here is a bone piece that shouldn’t be here. I suspect it must’ve broken from your talus bone, which can sometimes chip, in occasions such as running on uneven terrain”

“Wouldn’t I have realized I have a broken bone? I felt no pain before today” said Sirius, which prompted a laugh from the doctor. “Yes, well, sometimes when such small pieces chip, they don’t really cause much harm, and tend to mend again with the bone on their own. This one probably would’ve done the same, but it appears that your accident today sprained your ankle, moved the chipped bone and caused a bit more pain than a usual sprain.” she explained, and turned the monitor back to herself. “So, here is what we’re going to do. We’ll put your ankle in a plaster for about 3 weeks, and then you’ll come in for a check-up and a scan, and then we’ll determine whether you’ll need a plaster again or not.” 

“Yes doctor, thank you”

“Now, I’ll wheel you to the plaster room, they’ll put it on and you’re good to go”

She led him through the other doors, into another hallway rather than the waiting room where Lily and James were. She knocked on the doors to the plaster room, and a burly nurse opened. “Hey Jack, I’m gonna need a plaster on his right ankle, up to the knee, without the heel”

“Sure thing doc, we’ll be done in a sec” said the nurse and grabbed the bandages. The doctor helped Sirius from the wheelchair and sat him on the bed. She grabbed his ankle and positioned it under right angle. Sirius suppressed a yelp as she offered a sympathetic smile “I’m sorry Mr Black, I know it hurts, but it has to be this way, so it heals properly” “Yeah yeah, I understand, but one thing. Please don’t call me Mr Black, it makes me feel way too old. My name is Sirius” This elicited a laugh from her, and Sirius couldn’t help but smile along, forgetting the pain for a second. “Understood, Sirius” The nurse returned and put Sirius’ leg in plaster, under the doctor’s watchful eye. When he finished, he helped Sirius to his wheelchair. “Thanks Mark, see you later” said the doctor, wheeling Sirius out and through a hallway.

“You’ll pick up your papers from the nurse who you spoke to when you came in. Bring those papers to your check-up, and in the meantime, don’t use your foot at all. You are to rest, understood?” she applied a stern voice, but Sirius could see she was smiling. “Yes ma’am” he replied, intentionally not using her title to tease her. She stopped and stood in front him. She narrowed her eyes at him, realizing he was messing with her. “It’s doctor, not ma’am. I didn’t go to med school for 6 years to be called ma’am” “Understood, doctor” he answered, giving her a dose of puppy eyes. She rolled her eyes at him and continued to drive him. “Just teasing you, they say joking helps to alleviate the pain”

“True, but how wise is it to tease a doctor: a person that knows how to kill and make it look like an accident?

”Sirius looked at her incredulously, and she laughed at him “What? Joking alleviates the pain”

“Touché doctor. Well, I guess that postpones Shirley’s and my road trip”

“I’m sure your girlfriend will understand, Sirius”

“Oh, Shirley’s not my girlfriend. She’s my motorbike”

“You named your motorbike?”

“What did we say about teasing doctor?”

“Not teasing, just curious. Besides, what would you do if I were teasing you? Hop after me until I apologize?”

Sirius looked at her, dramatically clutching his chest, feigning being insulted. He called after a nurse who was passing them by “Excuse me, nurse? Yeah, I would like a new doctor. This one is hurting my feelings” he explained. The nurse looked from him up to the doctor, who waved her hand dismissively. “Don’t mind him Keisha, he had a concussion when he fell from his motorbike and is talking nonsense” said the doctor and wheeled him away from the nurse.

“Oy, I didn’t fell from a motorbike”

“Yeah, but now she thinks you did.”

“You are a cruel woman, doctor”

“Well, it’s what you get for calling me ma’am”

Sirius laughed just as they rounded the corner and found themselves in the waiting room where Lily and James were still waiting. They rose towards him and the doctor, James snapping a photo of him in wheelchairs. “Mate, stop it, or I swear they’ll be putting your hand in a plaster next” “Sure thing Padfoot, but you’ll have to catch me first, and I don’t really think you’re in the position to do that” replied James, and Lily swatted him on his arm “James, don’t be a dick, can’t you see your friend is suffering?” “Yes James, can’t you see I’m suffering?” said Sirius smugly, but Lily cut him off to continue “Suffering from embarrassment for having a motorbike fall on him because he kicked it” she finished, high-fiving James for the joke. Sirius just looked at them annoyed “I liked both of you better when you weren’t dating” “You didn’t tell me a motorbike fell on you” said the doctor, trying to stifle a laughter.

“Yeah yeah, go ahead, laugh at the idiot who got crushed by a motorbike, it’s not like I got hurt or anything”

“Yeah, but did you die?” asked the doctor, and they all outward laughed at Sirius.

“Wow doctor, I really thought we had a moment there”

“Oh Sirius, you think you have a moment with every gorgeous woman you talk to” Lily teased him

“Yeah, and why do you keep calling her doctor?” asked James.

Sirius just looked at them as if they were mad.

“Yeah, I wondered that too. At first, I thought he was being polite, then I wondered if he actually had a concussion, but when he started being his usual teasing self, I realized he has no clue who I am” said the doctor. Maybe I’m the one going mad thought Sirius. He would’ve remembered knowing someone as beautiful as her. And funny.

“Wait, we know each other?” asked Sirius

“Well, we did go to school together” replied the doctor.

Seeing that Sirius was not getting it, James decided to help him “Right mate, I’ll give you 2 hints: football and Scottish”

“And I think the lightbulb went off” said Lily, seeing the look on Sirius’ face as realization hit him.

“Oh my God, McKinnon?” asked Sirius, and the doctor laughed.

“There he goes!” exclaimed James, and clapped for him. Lily too.

“Technically, it’s doctor McKinnon. But you know, Marlene will do”

“I swear, I had no idea. I haven’t seen you in years. Where’s your accent?”

“Ugh, don’t ask. When we started going round hospitals in med school, no one understood anything I said. I even took classes to help me lose the accent”

“Sorry to interrupt your flirting, but all this with his ankle: is he ready to go?” asked James, and Marlene repeated her instructions about not moving and the check-up in 3 weeks. Lily went out to bring the car closer to the doors, and James excused himself to go the loo, which left Sirius and Marlene to wait for them.

“Where did you go after Oxford?”

“I went to Australia to do my training and residency. I was there for 2 years, but I missed home, so I came back. Been here for 2 months now.”

“And didn’t think of contacting your old friends?”

“Still doing paperwork. And I’m a doctor with ridiculous shifts. Besides, why would I contact people who forgot about me?”

“I’m really sorry Marlene”

“Don’t beat yourself over it. And I mean really don’t, you don’t need more body pieces in plaster”

“Right, I see your humour hasn’t changed”

“Hey, why fix something that’s not broken?”

“I don’t think everyone would agree”

She playfully hit him on the arm and then looked at her watch.

“Well, this is where we part. Thank you for helping me end my 14-hour shift on a bright note”

“Ugh, 14 hours, that must be rough. I suppose you can’t wait to go to sleep, knowing you”

“Trust me, med school put an end to my heavy sleeping for more than 10 hours, Besides, there are a few episodes of Musketeers waiting for me at home”

“Sounds lonely”

“I have friends. There are millions of bacteria in my body to keep me company”

“Really? Biology jokes? That’s horrible, even for your standards. But anyway, thank you Marlene. You’re an angel in a white coat.”

“So, a doctor?”

“Your jokes are terrible”

“What can I say, I’m an acquired taste”

“Come on, Hopper, let’s get you to the car” said James, wiping his hands on his pants as he returned. He helped Sirius out of the wheelchair and led him towards the door.

“I guess I’ll see you around then. Have fun guys” said Marlene and gave them a little wave, before turning around and walking towards the exam rooms.

Sirius looked after her, in a sort of daze, before James swatted him on the head. “You idiot, why did you do that for?” he asked, massaging his head.

“Because you’re looking after her like a lost puppy. Why didn’t you invite her to go with us?” James asked, giving him a bewildered look.“Was I supposed to?”

“Lily, this idiot didn’t invite her to come with us” James said to Lily, who was opening the back door of her car for Sirius.

“Are you telling me you spent time with a pretty woman, and you didn’t ask her out?” the redhead asked him, giving a same bewildered look as James. 

“It’s because he has had a crush on Marlene since we were 18”

“Fuck off James”

“Language, Padfoot”

“James?”

“Yes mate?”

“Help me go after her”

“Of course, mate”

And that is how James helped Sirius hop to Marlene, who laughed at the sight of the pair, but nevertheless accepted their invitation and joined them at The Three Broomsticks, where she was greeted by her old friends and together, they celebrated James’ birthday until the wee hours of the morning.

After Sirius’ legs healed, he introduced Marlene to Shirley and took her for a ride. He even kissed her for the first time while leaning on his motorbike. This time, of course, he remembered to put the bike on its stand.

(And yes, James uses this story as a part of his best man’s speech at their wedding a few years later. He even shows photos as proof.)

[vssoise]

A Long Overdue Diary Entry

So I’ve been in Baltimore three days now and I decided that today’s events were just noteworthy enough to warrant my sitting down to actually write this journal (diary?) entry that I’ve been promising will come for a long time now. I guess it also doesn’t hurt that being outside Dayton and being in a new place somehow makes me feel like I have more bandwidth and free time, despite nothing on my to do list actually being shorter/checked off purely due to the change in location. That’s part of what I was going to talk about though, haha. 

It’s a strange thing; as soon as I got to Baltimore, my schedule has felt a lot lighter. Things have felt much more easily addressable/categorizable, like there’s Dayton Driven stuff, there’s medical school stuff which is basically away rotation planning and rotation planning, and there’s doing well on this particular rotation at Hopkins. And then that’s it! Nothing else to really worry about or think about or plan around. So as a result, it leaves me with a lot of free time and evenings to just use however I want exploring the city, or reading my book, or just binge-ing yet another tv show (watch Atypical it’s the best). But what’s weird is that, even while I was in Dayton, I had only the same things to think about but somehow felt way more put-upon, and busy, and like I was being pulled in so many different directions. I wonder why.  I complained to Weanne earlier this week that my fellow rotators aren’t as social/curious about the city, and as a result that leaves with a lot of time to explore things for myself and make new friends. Maybe that’s a factor, that I don’t have social commitments? Maybe. Though if that were the differentiating facor, I’d rather have the social commitments over this free time, haha.  It does remind me of when I visited Lili at St Andrews though. I remember waking up early, around 7am, and we went and had breakfast with the rest of her flatmates at their dining hall, simple fare, just a coffee and a croissant, while they made small talk, and then we walked back across their idyllic campus to their apartment and I read while they prepared for their lecture coming up in a few hours. I even attended one of their Recitations, or TA sessions. I remember the whole thing felt very... secluded? Charmed? Like the university and life there was a bubble to itself. Nothing else really mattered, you were just free to focus on your studies, the things that interested you, and the friends you had and wanted to spend time with. It felt very peaceful, and I remember registering that so clearly because I remember it being something I very desperately wanted in my own life at that time.  Then I went back to Penn and somehow felt re-submerged in the chaos that was my state at the time. But I digress. My point being, I’ve been able to experience some semblance of that in these last couple days in Baltimore. It’s a new city, I don’t know anyone (or very many people, rather), I only have this course I’m here to do so the work is relatively straightforward. Maybe it feels like it’s a parenthesis from life generally. I’m not sure. But whatever it is, it’s interesting and nice to feel that sense of calm and peace again. It’s a pleasant, and welcome, surprise. 

Otherwise though, the rotation itself has been going well! It’s only been 3 days of course but I’m leaning hard into my WHO experience and trying to make the best of my very short time here. I went to a lecture today by a Hopkins professor who works in emergency humanitarian healthcare (who leaves for Iraq tomorrow after having just got back form Kabul the month before) and remember feeling stirrings of those same feelings I felt when I listened to people talk or present their work at the WHO; his excitement and his interest in his work, the direct impact his work had on the people he was trying to help; it was good to find that excitement being stirred up in me again, especially as the last year and interview season have given me few reasons to think about that kind of career as a near future possibility. This rotation I think, more than anything, potentially opens a door for me to pursue this career more immediately than I otherwise would be able to, if for no other reason than the people associated with the school, like this professor (Dr Gilbert Burnham). And even if not, even if it doesn’t translate directly into the Prev Med Residency position I want here, I’ll at least come away with having had a chance to experience that ephemeral peace that I talked about before, and to taste that WHO style inspiration again, that I haven’t felt from faculty since leaving the internship. 

As for the rest of my experience here, even though it’s only been 3 days now, it’s been very interesting! I’ve gone out of my way to try to learn more about the city and get comfortable in it, exploring its different neighborhoods and studying/working at its different cafes, and trying to visit a different area/bar during the evenings after work, while also trying to drag a fellow rotator along with me so I can get to know them better. I figured out the local public transport system after much painstaking googling, and even figured out how to use the scooter-share network in the city, which I’ll likely use much more often going forward, given that it’s so much cheaper than an uber. Today I was riding it back from the grocery store to the public health building to make it back in time for class and this old guy walking on the sidewalk stopped next to me as I was stopped on the street on the scooter waiting for the red light to let me go. He said hey brother, stay good, and then gave me two werther’s orginial caramels, saying I should take them in case I need some extra energy today. So I, of course, in flagrant disregard for everything my parents and teachers had taught me about accepting candy from a stranger, took and ate them during the class I got to on time.#noragrets

But more interesting, to me, has been my experience at my AirBnB. My host is a Rwandan doctor who works in public health and development (right?) and his friend who’s staying with him for a while, also from Rwanda, who speaks much better French than English. So I decided that since I was already capitalizing on the professional side of things with the host, I might as well capitalize on the other opportunity; so I asked his friend to only speak in french with me for the remainder of my stay.  And this evening we actually had an entire conversation, and I don’t mean one of those “conversations” out of a french textbook where it’s just pleasantries till one you decides that you do in fact know where the library is, I mean a legit conversation. We talked, in french, about my friend who came by this evening before we went out to dinner, about how french is a difficult language to hear pronounced, about how mandarin is a very unique language and I even taught him some mandarin (again, in french), about indian cooking; we talked about how we felt about these things too, not just about the subject matter generally. I recounted to him, in french, that when I was learning mandarin in college, french was similarly a relatively difficult language to me, so when the teacher asked me to say something in mandarin, I’d say half the sentence in french and half in mandarin coz my brain just merged the two languages coz hey they’re both equally foreign to me and he doubled over laughing. It felt great to be able to convey a story and a feeling in such a way/fluency that it actually elicited the response I was going for in another person.  Every time I’ve had a relationship with someone else in a language primarily not in english, it’s been with a relative. But this was the first time I think that I experienced a facet of a real friendship based entirely in a language that was completely foreign to me. It wasn’t my mother tongue, it wasn’t a language I had grown up with. But I was able to converse to a level where I could build the foundation of a real relationship, and not just that of a passerby conversation. Suffice to say that I’m back on the Duolingo, after my long sulk after losing my 71 day streak, hahaha. 

All in all, I’m looking forward to what I can make of this rotation. I’ve got the same worries, about Dayton Driven, the same anxieties about where I’ll get residency, the same nagging thoughts about potentially not making the best of this internship.  But I’m gonna try to enjoy this feeling of simple peace that I feel like I’ve been able to tap into after so long. And continue to polish my french. And keep trying to meet the right people and expose myself to the right classes and professors to keep broadening my view of what’s possible. 

I think when I get back to Dayton, even if it’s just for a short time before I’m off again for a lot longer, I’ll ideally be able to bring some of my lifestyle in Baltimore back with me. Maybe it’ll help infuse my regular life with some of this much needed simplicity, or perhaps clarity, rather, that this life seems to have. 

Or really, maybe it’ll just make me more susceptible to taking that snickers bar from the guy in the white van the next time he pulls up. It’s either way, really.

Till next time! I’ll write again soon, I half-promise : P

[diningpageantry]

Waterfright

Archive Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17343617/chapters/40995866

Chapter 3/11 of Of Wealth and Leisure

Word Count: 2633

Summary: A beach day goes slightly awry, leaving Sir Snow curious as to where he and Mr. Pitch stand.

Eventually, the initial tension of the fight melts away. I’d say that it’s due to the previously budding resentment building between us making the fight feel somewhat natural, but it’s much more reasonable to say that it was the exhaustion of avoidance of one another.

We’re still at each other’s throats, of course. That, I’m sure, is not to stop.

Even as I raise my head, hearing a knock on the second floor parlor room door frame, I see that Mr. Pitch is standing and sneering pompously onto me. “I’ve come to reluctantly invite you with us to our beach outing,” he mulls, words dragging out of him as if it’s torturous to spit them towards me.

I’m quite astonished by the offer, slowly lowering my book as I glance around. I see no trick; no gleaming knife in his hands as a showing that it’s a murderous plot all along. It’s clearly out of courtesy towards me, the guest.

“Actually,” I say, closing the book in my hands and, in one fluid motion, tucking it under my arm. “I’d be delighted to join. When does the carriage leave?”

“Eleven.”

I allow myself to smile at him, nodding briefly as I stand and button my jacket. “Tell your father I’ll be joining, then.” As he rolls his eyes and starts to turn, I peep up a finishing “Will there be sandwiches?” To that, he scoffs and stomps off wordlessly.

I still wonder if there’s going to be sandwiches.

Thankfully, as we’re packing into carriages, I see the sandwich platter and feel myself exhale in relief. That relief disappears the moment Mr. Pitch slides into the carriage beside me, dragging his eyes over me before letting out a disgusted scoff.

“Snow.”

“Mr. Pitch.”

His hands fold on his lap, gaze drifting out the window as he sits in resentful silence  letting us ignore each other entirely as the short journey begins. On the occasion that I feel a slight prickle of discomfort, I turn my head and catch him steal a quick glance at me, attention turned towards me and combing over my figure. To these moments, I return a scoffed clearing of my throat and rolled eyes as I can barely remove my gaze from him. We remain looking over one another once, sizing each other up in starched stiffened air.

We’re still glaring at each other as the carriage finally pulls to a stop, forcing our tension-filled staring contest apart and out of the tight, confined space.

I step down and out, lowering my hat back onto my head and blocking some of the sun’s burning rays.

“Are you joining us in the water, Sir Snow?” Mrs. Grimm humors, sending a toothy grin aside to me as she ties her elongated brimmed hat onto her chin. Her hand grazes her husbands arm, holding him back for the brief second as I stand, overlooking the ocean. The servants bustle around us, rushing to set up chairs to lounge in and umbrellas to sit under.

Waving a hand, I hold the book I’d intended to take some time to read close to my chest. “Perhaps later. I wished to get some open air reading, first.” They shrug in disregard, going off towards the tents that the servants dragged up for changing.

I settle, removing my shoes and hiking up my trousers up to my knees as to not ruin them. The chair I sit down onto is close enough for the waves to lap up onto my feet. The lingering silence of the ocean washing up to shore is cut by the chatter of The Grimms, making their way towards the water as the glaring light of the sun quickly gets blocked my a figure behind me. I snap around, squinting in frustration as I frown and see who’s approached.

He snickers behind me, bending over my shoulder to peer onto the page. I snap it shut on him. “What do you want?” I demand shortly, squinting up at him as he bolts upright with laughter.

“Scared to join us?” He taunts, moving to step in front of me as he backs into the water. He stands before me in striped beach apparel, arms spread and, for some unknown reason, making me feel exposed in such situation. Dare I say that he seems carefree, letting waves knock into his soft brown calves as he cocks a daunting brow at me. “Never learned to swim, Snow?”

My eyes comb over him, throat feeling stuck as I push out a “I had learned, of course. I just wish to keep my book and myself dry, for the time being.”

Mr. Pitch smirks at me, still slowly stepping backwards before his tongue flickers out, wetting his lips as a foot kicks up and splashes me. Quickly, my hands fly up in front of me and my head turns aside, breath catching in disbelief as the man practically cackles.

I squint in a more aggressive manor, watching him laugh and back himself deeper into the water. “What, are you going to come in? I doubt you won’t sink first.”

I gawk at his dare, remaining absolutely flabbergasted for a long moment before I slap my hands down onto the arms of my chair. Standing up, I glance around for the changing rooms and (guiltily) demand for a suit to change into from the servant with my bag. After the fastest change I’ve done in what feels like years, I stomp out in my beachwear and spot Baz off in the drifting waves of water.

As I step in, it shocks me as colder than expected. Huffing out a breath or two, I manage to wade in up to my knees. That’s when he spots me and hits me with a splash of salty water, laughing as I gasp and tense up. “Afraid to come in more?”

“I’m afraid of nothing,” I hiss back, bending down and scooping a handful of the brined water before tossing it towards his face. He turns away, looking back with a glare and pushing a wave at me, tackling my legs and submerging me under briefly. I manage to drag myself back up, huffing out shocked grabs for air.

Looking awfully pleased with himself, he backs off a little with hands raised into the air as he stands. “Not fully afraid of nothing, then.”

“I’m not afraid of water,” I bite back, staying under in avoidance of the freezing chill of wind. “Simply surprised as the temperature of the water.”

His swimsuit hangs slightly from his body, clinging to his chest yet draping down at his sleeves and legs. As his hands run up his face and back through his hair, pushing it slick, I feel my heartbeat pattering faster. Is this a fight or flight defense, making me want to launch into battle? I would topple him over, if I had the chance, thus making me sure it's a battle impulse. What else would my heart be racing for?

He catches my gaze, head tilting upward as his lips pull into his devilish smirk. “Sir Snow,” he draws out my name, spilling like molten gold from his lips. “Keep your eyes on me and I’ll drown you in a flash.”

I swear I feel my bottoms tug, although I might be dreaming of them growing more taught. Then there’s the awkward, quickly forming realization that my beachwear is definitely becoming slightly strained around me. Thank all luck for the fact that I’m mostly submerged, and when I stand, the water covers up to my hips.

I feel my hands shove his chest before I register what my motions are, jolting my mind awake as we get into a bit of a tossle. Nobody comes to separate us--nobody seems to care as we go back and forth, shoving each other under and trying to fight each other down. Eventually, with heaving chests in a cloud of a hatred-fueled haze, we back off one another and separate for lunch.

I practically inhale a sandwich and a half, staring off into the scattered clouds among the sky as the gentle heat of the summer sun beats onto my skin and dries off the ocean’s remains. I change, while the others return to the water, and sit a good distance from the waves as I continue reading my book. After we grow bored of the salty scent and stinging eyes, we return to our carriages and begin the journey back.

Mr. Pitch keeps his distance from me, hair still slightly dripping as his head turns and stares out the glass. His shoulder length strands are shiny, spooling off into soft waves as it dries and fills more into the air around him. They’re not curls, per-say, but a dark mass. I bet they’d still be damp to the touch.

It rather suits him. It’s much less tidy than the oil slicked smoothness he tries to maintain, which is clearly a mirror for his father’s style. This, though, seems freed. More personal, and much less controlled. I think I’d like to see Mr. Pitch in a looser environment, sort of like how he was before. With disregard to his tauntings, he seemed more welcoming to the area. Laughing, but not only to mock. Smiling, but not only to tease. I wonder if he can feel as free as he had earlier once again.

The carriage draws to a stop and we all clamber out, going to dress well for Friday dinner. As usual, it’s mostly silent; the only noise that fills the room is the soft clanking of dishes and silverware. I’ve learned through my few months of being here to eat much faster, as my dinner seemed to end too quickly in my first week. Once the clock chimes, we all simultaneously finish and, as per usual, part our separate ways.

I find myself back in the stable house at the end of my evening, listening to Ebb tell a tale of how she’d delivered her first foal.

She catches on relatively quickly that my mind is quite distracted, running off with another thought and disconnected from the scene at hand. “Simon?” she muses, poking my arm with her mug as I snap back into reality for the second time this visit. “Well, spill it. We haven’t got a lifetime for you to daydream.”

With eyes downcasted and head full, I exhale slowly and let myself unravel. “Does Mr. Pitch ever find peace?”

She blinks at first, curious as to what I’m saying before her mouth falls to a chuckle. “Care to elaborate?”

My lip pulls into my mouth, teeth dragging along the skin and sucking slightly. It tastes of ocean water still. “He’s such a wound-up young man. Always seems to have order in his life, and never seems to seek out fun and entertainment of his own. It’s always based around some other person around him, especially his father. He seems to overly conform…” I trail, feeling my head spin as I loop around thoughts. “Is he never truly doing actions upon his leisure? Does he seek out--this sounds quite odd, but--companionship?”

Her lips turn upward at first, but as I search for joy in her face, I come short.

“Mr. Pitch is quite the lonely young man,” she begins, shaking her head in the slightest. “That’s all that should have to be said. It’s quite hard to search deeper into him for answers, unless you seek further desperation for attention. I’ve seen the boy grow, and he’s always seemed to look for someone to follow, or some way to hide himself more. He is, in such a way, the proper example of English suppression of emotions.”

It feels like a rather unfair statement at first. While entirely understood, it also strikes a note of mild grief with me and making me want to seek out the brighter version of him hidden inside.

In defiance of my own better thinking, I press onwards about his courtship. “He doesn’t fancy anyone? It’s odd to have an heir not seeking a wife.”

Her head turns to me, looking quite shocked as she raises her tea to her lips. “Simon Snow, you can’t possibly be that oblivious.”

I feel my lips turn into a frown, mouth hanging open as I begin a protest. “I can’t quite tell what I’m missing-”

“Some don’t seek public companionship,” she says, voice dropping. “For certain reasons or another, and while privacy raises suspicions, avoidance simply makes one seem like a bit more of an outcast rather than a concern.” Each word spilling out of her reads more cryptic, making me drag myself towards the edge of my seat.

“I’m… still a bit lost…”

The sad smile washed across her face doesn’t budge, mug softly settling back down onto the wood of her tabletop. “Do you know why I never seeked companionship?”

“No.”

“Does my attire not raise any questions?”

I briefly pause, glancing over her. “I typically don’t attempt to use my mind in such unneeded forms to thinking. One's’ appearance normally only draws my attention when I see them first, or when it’s brought to it.” Which only makes my drawing towards every entrance of Mr. Pitch’s even more confusion. Why does he make me feel the need to care and study his outfits at every change?

Ebb watches me somewhat trail off in thought again. “Some of us wish to seek companionship that’s not deemed as socially… respectable. There are some who do find companions, and they hide with them well. For too many of those who do, hiding can only go so far before they’re found. Then, there’s others like me who don’t seek such companionship in fear of any public eye.”

My eyes fall onto her trousers, then her suspenders and what’s deemed as a man’s shirt. At first, I’d assumed that she dresses as so through the ease of finding such clothes; snagged from worn out sports clothes of Baron Grimm or Mr. Pitch. Yet, now as I observe her, I notice how much she would present as a male suitor, if women pleased.

“Ebb, do you wish to have a woman suitor?”

She doesn’t quite answer, staring into her fireplace.

“Ebeneza?”

She exhales, fingers drumming on the porcelain of the mug. “Are you aware that Mr. Pitch’s aunt is unmarried? The only other possible heir to the fortune, Fiona Pitch.”

“I… was not aware, no.”

Her head nods, eyes still locked onto the flickering licks of flames, keeping the offcentered pot of her dinner stew warm. “She has always been more carefree than her sister. I know I had mentioned that we were friends, but briefly we engaged in…” She lets the sentence trail. I know enough to puzzle together where it would’ve gone. “So, she left. Unmarried, but close with a man. My brother. I don't know where they went, but they've disappeared from public attention.”

I stay silent, finishing off my drink as I study her face while it sits, lost in thought. It doesn’t quite dawn on me immediately to comfort her, as I fear that I would do that wrong (Penelope has told me before that I need to work on being compassionate). I do, though, know of one thing to say. “I’ll never tell a soul.”

She laughs at that, cheeks cracking comfortably as she finds my face again. “No, I know you wouldn’t.” Her hand extends out, resting upon mine and rubbing it caringly.

Not long after, I leave wondering how my feelings--my reactions--towards Mr. Pitch stand, if Ebb felt the need to share such personal information. Was she teaching me to offer an open comfort to him, enemies or not?

Or is there something I’m simply not seeing?

[wordsandshawn]

Before Now - chapter 1

Read the Prologue here

1.

December 2016

It’s my first time back home after my first semester at Uni. After seeing and spending some time with my family, I drive straight over to the Mendes house. I missed Karen and Manny, and last week, I promised Aaliyah I’d pick her up and take her Christmas shopping as soon as I got home. She missed me as much as my own siblings did. In fact, arguably, she missed me more than my own brothers did. I knock once, then I enter the house without waiting for someone to let me in, just like I have always done ever since I was little. What I don’t expect at 4:30 in the afternoon is to find Shawn standing at the stove, his back toward me, only wearing basketball shorts. I didn’t expect him to be at home at all, much less shirtless in his kitchen.

Thankfully he hadn’t heard me come in, which gives me just enough time to recover from my shocked expression. “Hey,” I say to announce my presence, probably a little awkwardly, and mostly embarrassed that I just barged into his kitchen without waiting for someone to answer the door. And even though I’ve always done this and never felt uncomfortable before, this time seems different. I caught him off guard as much as he caught me off guard. He spins around, the wooden spoon still in his hand, “I knocked, but—“ I trail off, not really knowing what to say next since I don’t have any explanation.

His surprised expression is replaced by a smile. “Oh hey, Ky, don’t worry about it. You know you’re always welcome.” I freeze momentarily, hearing Shawn use his nickname for me catches me off-guard since it’s been so long since I’ve heard it. He is the only person to ever call me that. Its not exactly the most obvious nickname to come from the name Skylar. I was too young to remember, but our parents told us that when we were just learning to talk, the sharp “S” sound in my name was hard for him, so he dropped it entirely. Apparently, he called me Kyla for a while, disregarding my last “R” too, before finally settling on Ky a little while later. Our parents thought it was cute, probably thought he’d grow out of it one day, but apparently, he never has.

I try not to let my eyes travel any lower than his face, but his muscular chest and his well-defined abs are hard to miss when they’re right in front of me, practically daring me to stare. My still teenaged mind can’t help but wonder, when did he get abs, did he really bulk up this much since I last saw him? It has been a while, now that I really think about it.

He leaves his pot on the stove, coming around the counter to give me a hug, something that should have been totally normal, but yet felt different somehow. “Did you just get back home?” He questions, obviously being the one to carry the conversation this time. As far as I can remember, I had always been the one to do most of the talking between the two of us. He was more of the thinker, but a lot has changed, I have to keep reminding myself.

“Yeah, I did.” I say, stepping back from him a bit, intentionally creating space between us, “How long have you been home?”

“Just a couple of days, but I leave again on Saturday.” He says, sounding a little disappointed and I don’t blame him.

“Oh, but you’ll be back home for Christmas, though right?” I ask.

He nods, “Yeah, I’ll be back on the twenty-third, just in time for Christmas.” He forces a smile past the hint of sadness.

I smile too, nodding. A short silence elapses, where we both take each other in. He’s probably realizing how much I changed just like I’m realizing how much he’s changed. Luckily, Karen walks in saving us both from whatever awkwardness would have otherwise ensued after the moment passed. “Skylar!” She says, rushing over as soon as she notices me.

I smile and wrap my arms around her, “Hi Karen,” I say as I melt into her motherly embrace.

When she finally releases me from the hug, she asks, “How’s Uni?” but she gets too excited and before I can even begin to answer, she speaks again, “We’ve missed you so much around here, you can’t leave again, we miss you too much when you’re gone.”

I can’t help but pull her in for another hug. “I’ve missed you too.”

“No more leaving,” She basically commands, and I just smile.

“I’ll be home for a month,” I tell her, trying to make the fact that I fully intend to leave after a month seem a little less bad.

“Alright,” She says, “I guess that’ll have to do. Are you hungry? I don’t know what Shawn is making. It’s probably not safe to eat, but I think I have some leftovers in the fridge.”

At this, Shawn makes a bit of an offended sound. “I’m making rice, and chicken. And it’s definitely, probably going to be edible, if you want some, Ky.” Shawn offers, and I just smile.

“I’m not hungry, actually, but thank you. I just came to pick up Aaliyah, and say hi, of course.” I say, making sure they know that I’m there for them too, even though the main reason really was that I had promised to take Aaliyah Christmas shopping.

Aaliyah comes bounding down the stairs now. She probably heard us all talking downstairs, and she rushes straight into my arms. “I missed you,” She practically screams in my ear, but I missed her too, so I’m not even worried that I might be deaf from her scream. I say goodbye to Karen and Shawn and try to forget the way that he actually seemed happy to see me and interested in what I had to say. I try to forget about how I actually felt sad that I didn’t have more time to talk to him.

~

After a few hours of shopping, Aaliyah and I get smoothies and sit down in the middle of the mall because we’re tired from all the walking. We had talked nonstop, quickly catching each other up on the last few months of our lives. Although we talked on the phone frequently while I was gone, catching up in person is different. She told me everything that had been going on with her at school, and I filled her in on my first semester of University.

“So, are there any cute boys? College boys?” She questions with a raised eyebrow and a mischievous grin.

I laugh at this innocent question coming from her, and I tell her about one boy who’s caught my eye, just to appease her, even though absolutely nothing was going on between the two of us. Suddenly, she’s asking if I’m going to get a boyfriend. She’s asking all kinds of questions about him and boyfriends and boys in general, but I can’t help how my mind keeps wandering back to her brother at all of her inquiries. Even just the thought of it makes my stomach twist into knots in a way it never has before.

~

Shawn isn’t home when I drop Aaliyah back at their house after shopping. I decide it is probably a good thing that I don’t see him again, despite the unfamiliar and seemingly inappropriate feeling of slight disappointment. I don’t think I can handle another encounter like that one. It was so strange, too strange.

But what is even more strange is a text that I receive from Shawn the next day. I didn’t even realize that he still has my number. I definitely don’t have his saved in my phone. Well, I had a number of his saved in my phone, but probably an old number.

Hey Skylar, this is Shawn, I was wondering if you wanted to catch up and hang out before I leave on Saturday?

Everything in my gut is telling me to say no, to stay away from this boy who knew my heart before it was full of anything but lofty dreams and love. He knew me then, but that doesn’t mean he knows me now. And I don’t know him, not anymore. Sure, my encounter with him in his kitchen gave me no reason to stay away from him or avoid getting to know him, but I’m still not sure if I want to. I’m not ready to let anyone in, and certainly not someone world famous.

My internal battle prevents me from answering for a day. In the end, my curiosity over Shawn’s sudden interest in catching up gets the best of me. I can’t help but say yes. He wants to pick me up, always the gentleman, but instead I suggest we grab coffee, meeting at a coffee shop between his house and mine. It seemed safer to me, less pressure. Old friends always meet for coffee and it doesn’t have to mean anything.

Maybe I’m being hyper aware, or maybe it’s just that obvious how everyone in the tiny, relatively empty coffee shop seems to look twice at Shawn, and then they look at me, and I pretend not to notice. Shawn insists on buying the coffee, the first major hint that this might be more than just old friends catching up.

Once we find a table in the corner with our drinks, we start simple. The kind of catch up conversation I expected. He asks about my parents, my little brothers and my first semester at college. He seems content to talk about me, genuinely interested in how I’ve been doing, and it occurs to me that he may know my family and my childhood, but he has no real knowledge of who I am now. And in a way, maybe I can start over with him. He didn’t know me for almost all of high school since we stopped spending much time together around middle school, and we certainly never really talked. I decide to take advantage of the opportunity to be who I want to be, to share the parts of me I want to share without worrying that he knows more. Because the truth is, he’s barely been home at all for the last three years.

I ask about his family, even though I never lost touch and already know most of what he tells me. Then I ask about his career, a topic I’m not quite sure how to approach, and, if I’m being honest, intimidates me completely. He doesn’t go into much detail, doesn’t share anything more than what I believe is common knowledge. Maybe it’s better that way.  

After about an hour we say our goodbyes and go our separate ways. At the end of the day it didn’t feel like much more than catching up with someone I used to know, and I realize that I’m grateful for that. I’m not ready for anything more with Shawn. Not because of him so much as all of the things I’m sure come with Shawn Mendes. The things I know nothing about and have no desire to discover. He seemed like he felt the same way about me, content to catch up and go our separate ways, or maybe that’s just what I forced myself to believe.

This is probably why I’m so caught off guard when he calls me later that night, explaining that he wouldn’t normally do something like this, but that he really wants to see me again before he leaves for a week on Saturday. I’m not good under pressure, and I’m even worse at saying no.

....

chapter 2

[ais-n]

So what ideas did you have for Boyd in Fade regarding human experimentation? What were you willing to put him through? Also, would you be willing to go into detail on what happened to Boyd while he was with by Janus? I always wonder about the details and I love reading your answers regarding them. Thanks ais!

Something of an answer is below but I might someday be more specific. I ended up rambling quite a lot on a bit of a tangent, so I’m putting this behind a cut.

WARNING! Some vague spoilers are below. But mostly I talk about some aspects of human experimentation from WWII. Don’t read this post if that will upset you or freak you out.

Hi! I’m so sorry, I was going to answer this like a month ago but then I lost my enthusiasm for the topic and then doubted myself on if I should talk in depth about things I had thought about... I’m still not sure right now on how much I actually should say. Not like it’s a big deal but I’m dumb. I do have the other ask still available so if I can get my weird mind and heart back on track for going at length on the topic in the future I can totally just answer off that. 

Do you ever get this way, where you’re super excited about something and you can go on about it, but then if you don’t do everything RIGHT THEN while you’re inspired, even days or sometimes even seconds later, that inspiration and excitement just completely fades? It’s so obnoxiousssss D:

Anyway so what I’ll say for now is my INITIAL idea involved that super asshole bullshit thing Unit 731 did where they tied people to posts at varying lengths away from a biochemical bomb they detonated in the center to release diseases and see how long it took people to develop symptoms and, sadly usually, eventually die... if not by the disease, then lots of times by the vivisection they performed without anaesthesia, sometimes just straight up taking out organs. 

But then I was like, man that’s going to be hard to come back from so I probably shouldn’t do that. 

There were people who lived through these things and were subjected to them repeatedly until they couldn’t live through it again. The entire thing is just so goddamn horrific, it’s out of control. But I kind of wanted to show how the road to hell can be paved with good intentions... the idea that just because you think you represent something “good” doesn’t mean you can’t become the same person or group you purported to fight against. In ICoS, Janus was as ruthless, if not sometimes more, than the Agency, but believed themselves not to be. They justified every terrible act by claiming the other side was more terrible first. 

I felt that the atrocities committed during WWII, particularly those done in secret by the Japanese government who can sometimes be overlooked now as much more innocuous than they were, were reflective of the levels to which a group would go to gain superiority over a system which they felt was denying them the power they deserved. I fucking LOVE Japan and I love so much about Japanese culture, I love the Japanese language, I’ve never been to Japan but I want to go because I know from images and videos I would absolutely love the country - but they definitely have done some really awful things that for a very long time, they absolutely refused to acknowledge. They just kept acting like these things didn’t happen because it wasn’t convenient to talk about and because of many other factors, I’m sure. 

But Unit 731 was fucking AWFUL, like at least as bad as the shit happening in the actual concentration camps, and yet everyone knows about the Nazis and how absolutely horrific the camps were, yet I had no idea about Unit 731 until I was in college and my Japanese film class or something else random like that covered it. That, and the rape of Nanking, and so much else. When we think of WWII, we think of so much of what happened in and directly around Germany, and we absolutely should. But there were also horrible things happening elsewhere, which were able to go more under the radar because of various circumstances, and which are under-acknowledged globally to this day. 

Essentially, because the Nazis and Germany were at the center of attention in this case, it allowed for Unit 731 and Japan to fly under the radar except to the countries and people they were directly causing massive trauma and impact. Unit 731, after all, fancied itself a scientific endeavor, in the same way that Janus fancied itself a revolution. It isn’t that science or necessarily even revolution can’t be important topics to focus on... it’s the way it was done.

That was what made me think of Janus initially... because there were all these other groups out there who kept taking the attention of the Agency, while in the background Janus was building an empire that was, ultimately, founded in pain. They also were both fine with collateral damage... victims of Unit 731 were a mixture of innocent victims kidnapped and coerced into their “cause” while others were prisoners of war at the mercy of a self-contained system that practiced no empathy. Not just a lack of empathy, a clinical dehumanization and disregard of the victim down to the aspect of not even labeling them as people, but instead calling them ‘logs’ in reference to the fact that their headquarters was an old logging facility. 

Janus was against the Agency because of many reasons (some of which were very valid points), but they allowed for innocent victims to be caught in the crossfire, then turned to coercing them into their control, and began experimentation on prisoners of war and others who they ultimately saw as a project, not a person. For both Unit 731 and Janus, the end goal was far more important than the journey. This was business, and in business people get hurt. That’s fine to them, because their business outweighs the worth of the people they roll into their fold as fodder for the cause. Same as the Agency, really, but the Agency had the control whereas Janus wanted to take it. Which, therefore, made Janus believe they were even more justified in going to greater lengths to seize that control, so it would be in the “right hands.”

So the short answer is that I was initially thinking I’d have Janus basically be willing to do just about anything Unit 731 did, but of course not all to one person because they would never survive it. And some things would be unnecessary to “test” in a more modern setting because science already knows the answer which it did not know at the time of Unit 731.

The trouble is that Unit 731 was the fucking worst, and people did not leave their care intact very often, if at all. All my original ideas could potentially work if done in just the right way, but most of them would have such lasting damage realistically that it was going to make it difficult to have him roll right back into being an agent in any sort of reasonable time. And if he came back without even a possibility of being an agent, I knew he wouldn’t last long at all.

So that’s what got me into thinking of other things that might be a bit more realistic for recovery, while still being awful and representative of the lengths to which humans believe they are justified in going just because they can. Ultimately, that got me thinking it might have to be more about the mind than the body. But also ultimately, that could almost be worse.

So that was the thought process that led to what went into the book. Feel free to ask me again in the future if you want about what more maybe happened in the part I didn’t write out in the book. When my brain isn’t being weird as hell I will probably be able to explore that topic more. I’ll leave the original ask untouched just in case, too.

Oh also btw, relatively recently Japan disclosed the names of thousands of Unit 731 members, which is a massive fucking step since for decades they refused to properly acknowledge Unit 731 even was a thing. So that’s a step in the right direction, at least, and an update I hadn’t known about on this topic until I googled it just now to check something else. Although, that article is a little misleading because it suggests the only victims were Chinese civilians and that isn’t the case. It was them, and a lot of other people from other countries, which I mention not to dismiss or discount the Chinese victims, but rather to recognize them, and add recognition to the other victims as well.

Anyway I rambled enough on this and didn’t even answer your question, I’m sorry... but if you do want an idea of what I was thinking when I first went into planning that whole arc, and if you have a strong mind and stomach, you can read into Unit 731 and get a good idea of the vibe of my initial imaginings. They were not happy vibes. They were incredibly fucked up.

[keithos]

On “Covid Fatigue”

It’s come to be fashionable to declare that “covid fatigue” is the reason that we’ve been seeing the huge rise in new infections here in Trinidad and Tobago over the last several days.  There is a notion that people have gotten tired and are starting to let their guard down, which is causing them and others to contract the disease.

I find that notion offensive.

The notion makes a full mockery of the people who have done their best for more than a year to mask up, sanitize everything in their orbit, and attempt to distance themselves from friends, extended family and colleagues.

It takes no consideration of the fact that these persons have kept themselves abreast of all the news and developments around Covid-19 locally and abroad, and that they will have attempted to remain in compliance with local measures at every step.

It disregards that these are the very persons who will have shifted to delivery and curbside pickup services, who will put off necessary home renovations so as to avoid contact with strangers, who will have given up otherwise regular forms of leisure in order to keep themselves and their loved ones safe.

These are the persons who are genuinely exhausted of what their lives have become, sequestered with their household, avoiding normal but unnecessary human contact.  They are, in fact, the people least likely to take a chance with their health and well-being.  Because they are fully cognizant of the implications of doing so, especially those who will have been closely tracking the daily numbers of new infections even as they were still in low double digits.

Unprotected Borders and Illegal Immigration?

The other cause celebre for the recent increase in new daily infections has been an alleged influx of illegal immigrants at points along our border.

This creeps though toward the xenophobic, that a people are the cause of malady in the country, running close behind the former US President calling Covid-19 the China Virus.

This notion also nestles itself closely in the realm of the illogical for a couple key reasons.

The first is that there has been no confirmed reports of roving bands of illegal immigrants grabbing people and coughing in their faces, and licking door handles everywhere they go.

Secondly, even if there are infected illegals here, the current numbers means that they would have to be interacting with a lot of people, or those persons would have to have a lot of secondary contacts.  This raises questions about the reasons for interacting with illegal immigrants without then reporting their presence in the country to the authorities.

While, yes, there would be illegal immigrants here who may have escaped detection at the border either on their own or with help, for any infected to spread the virus, help from locals who are harbouring and/or not compliant with public health measures and recommendations would be essential.

Mout’ Open, Story Jump Out Though...

While the numbers have been going up, there is a lot more conversation and revelation about how persons may have found themselves infected.  In the last week, I’ve heard or read about:

A doctor who attended to a gentleman exhibiting flu-like symptoms and did not ensure that the man was tested.  The man eventually ended up falling far more ill and testing positive for Covid-19, after reportedly spending time with people in more than one household.

Another doctor at a public hospital who, while performing procedures for the relative of an acquaintance, was maskless and coughing.  That relative eventually was found to have contracted Covid-19.  While it has not been determined whether the doctor was the source of infection, the doctor’s behaviour makes him a candidate.

A senior Police officer falls ill and is rushed to the Couva Hospital, a facility which is dedicated to Covid patient care.  He subsequently and soon passes away.  But the news reports and press releases raise more questions than they provide answers, as it’s unclear where the gentleman was when he became sick enough to have to go into hospital, and how many persons he may have interacted with while infectious.

A service manager who spent the better part of a week coming to work visibly ill, interacting with juniors and customers, before eventually testing for and finding that they were infected with Covid-19.  While I’ve heard about one case of this directly, I’ve heard people speak about similar situations across private enterprise.

Whispers about one business that rallied for three days after a staff member tested positive for Covid-19 before deciding to avoid the reputation risk of having the public find out that they had not sanitized their public space

In past months too while on my way to make necessary grocery runs, I’ve seen people I know liming hard at corner bars.  I’ve heard people talk about going to limes and events, and I’ve wondered whether they understand what that does to their personal bubble.  I’ve seen photos published to social media of a party where persons known to me - neighbours - were in attendance in numbers well above the posted regulations, and along with them in the event were persons unfamiliar, likely affiliated with the host.  Only two masks appear to have been in evidence, both on little children.

Covid Fatigue?  Not so much...

I’d posit therefore that our problem isn’t fatigue.  The fact is that despite restrictions and regular press conferences and all attempts at public education and sensitization, we have a large swathe of people here who were always and have continued to be non-compliant or maliciously compliant with Covid-19 regulations, displaying at minimum the inability to properly follow the simple request to wash hands, mask up and not congregate with others.  We know them and see them every day.

Someone who just splashes their hands in the sink at the grocery, wears their mask beneath their nose, and walks up under you in the aisle and the checkout line is equally likely to flaunt regulations about gathering when they’re not being seen.

The doctor who sent a sore-throat and fever patient away with a prescription for Chloroseptic, Emergen-C and Panadol and no Covid test might be as likely to turn other Covid-positive patients back into the community to continue spreading the disease.  Consider that patients presenting symptoms will have already been infectious for days before.

If the restaurant was quietly offering to spike your drink during the time that they were not supposed to be selling alcohol at all, to what other measures were they paying short shrift?

And what about the heroes who have always insisted on coming to work sniffling and coughing?  That didn’t stop during the last year, did it?

These behaviours didn’t arise late.  They’ve been prevalent from the start of our public health protection measures more than a year ago.  The one thing that has been consistent about the last 14 months is the continuous pushing at the boundaries set by our public health officials by both individuals and bodies corporate.  And these actions have served to actively derail the efforts of our public health team to keep us all safe.  Because all that’s happening now is that Covid-19 is breaching the gaps that have been with us, left by people more concerned about personal inconvenience and comfort than general public well-being.  And they in turn are infecting the people around them who have been more careful to comply, some not recognizing the risk to which their contacts have been exposing them.

Don’t Put This On The Exhausted. It’s Unfair.

The people who have been holding strain for more than a year have enough to deal with.  They don’t need the additional psychological weight of thinking that people like them decided to take a breath and caused all of this.  It’s unfair.

It’s an attempt to share the blame that should be fully ascribed to persons who have themselves not been responsible.

It further adds to the anxiety and stress that compliant citizens have already had to deal with, and tells them subliminally that that they can’t take reasonable risks with their guard without the full fear that they may contract or cause someone to contract Covid-19.  People have enough to deal with balancing spouses, children, parents, in-laws, employers and employees, work and school, food and nutrition, lack of sunlight and fresh air, weight gain, the general psychological impact of isolation... Don’t put this on them too.  Don’t accept it for yourself either.

Yes, there is Covid fatigue.  Yes, people are very weary of having to live like this, pent up and sequestered away and, in some cases, alone.  But don’t put it on the fatigued that they dropped their guard and thus contributing to the state of things now.  It might not be pointing a finger, but it can gnaw at already frayed psyches in myriad ways.

This is on the people who’ve never had their guard properly up in the first place, or never had their guard up at all.  They weren’t holding up their end.  They shouldn’t need help bearing the weight of responsibility now.

Photo Credit: Medical University of Southern California

[sagara-megumi]

SasuSaku Month - Day 17: War Torn || [Fanfic] Forgotten Tales from an Ancient Time - Chapter 1

Title: Forgotten Tales from an Ancient Time - Chapter 1

Rating: T/PG-13

Notes: As I answered in the questions (some in private), this story is going to be darker than the Omiai one. It’s the first time I write something like this, so I hope that you like it ^^ The inspiration came because of an episode of the Galileo jdrama whose plot and setting was related to Tengu. But also, there are lots of influences from a couple of anime and manga, so it’s a big mixture.

What is a Tengu? For those who don’t know, it’s a supernatural being in the Japanese mythology. To make it short, since I don’t want to bore anyone, I’ve seen it translated as “goblin” quite a few times. Nowadays, they are protectors of mountains and forests, though before they were well-known for their mischief and evil ways. They are normally represented in two ways: a human with a very long nose and red skin, or like human-like birds (usually crows -Karasu Tengu-, but before, they were depicted as birds of prey). For more information, I’ll leave here a couple of URLs that I used as a reference.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tengu https://www.tofugu.com/japan/tengu/

*There are other notes that I’ll leave for the end of the chapter, since I don’t want to explain/spoil (? ô__o) anything before your reading.*

The setting is going to come mostly out of my imagination, so it won’t be really accurate this time regarding locations, especially. I don’t know if this will change in the future.

Probably, the prompts will be in a different order from the one in the calendar, but since the SasuSaku Month already passed, I think it won’t have much importance. Also, I’ll be a bit irregular in the updates. I have an idea of what I want to do, but it’s not as clear as in the other story, so (as what happened with this chapter) it’s taking me more time to write it (and, as I told you, I’m unfamiliar with the genre, so I’m being extra-careful with everything ^^U)

Be aware that the rating is T/PG-13 for all the story. There are (and will be) depictions of violence and blood, and in this one (I don’t know the rest), a brief reference to sex.

Glossary:

-Obon: an annual Buddhist event for commemorating one’s ancestors. It is believed that each year during Obon, the ancestors’ spirits return to this world in order to visit their relatives.

-torii: a traditional Japanese gate most commonly found at the entrance of or within a Shinto shrine, where it symbolically marks the transition from the profane to sacred.

-Chimata-no-Kami: Gods of the crossroads, highways, byways, and footpaths. They help and protect their people and are honoured with roadside shrines.

As always, if there’s something wrong (spaces, brackets, words in another language…), please, tell me.

Words: 5553

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FORGOTTEN TALES FROM AN ANCIENT TIME

Chapter 1

The Shadow entered one house after the other through the open windows, swiftly. The humans from those times were careless and sceptic, and that made their spirits weak to perceive the creatures that surrounded them. So many technological advances and knowledge had made them think they were invincible and disregard the beliefs of their ancestors, their respect for the things beyond their comprehension. It looked around as he slithered in the shadows around the street lamps, watching as the supernatural beings floated around the few individuals that still walked around when the moon was still in the sky or lurking in the darkness, waiting for a chance to possess them. If humans knew that they could be devoured by those entities whose existence they denied anytime they wanted, they would not be so proud believing there was not anything or anyone above them. A cruel smile drew across one of the several tentacle-like shapes It adopted as It slid between the narrow space between the floor and the door of a flat. They needed a Divine Punishment. However, that was a thing of the gods and the only interest he could have in it would be watching as those little beings suffered. It spilt on the wooden surface, invading everything given the lack of light in the place. Better leave the gods to their own matters and concentrate on Its.

A couple was having sex in that room and It stopped to watch briefly, especially after realising the nature of the man, as he sucked the vital energy out of the woman from her mouth. He looked at It for a moment, creasing his brow at having a voyeur, and the Shadow retreated quickly. Some youkai were so zealous of their own matters… However, mingling with humans to feed oneself was disgusting. It considered that Its methods were much more refined. First, finding the right prey. For the Shadow not all humans were acceptable, it was the inconvenient of being on that world so many centuries, that It had become a pleasure-seeker regarding Its food. Moreover, it was so exciting to hunt them and then, watch their agony as they withered away, their panic faces when they did not understand what was happening to them, and their futile struggle when they did, make them suffer as It fed on them… That was an ecstasy…

The Shadow knew that if, in that moment, It could shapeshift into a human form, It would lick its lips. Oh, yes, that was the best part… It was the moment when their fear took the best of them that their taste was exquisite.

The sky above started to tint in a lighter shade and the Shadow knew It had to look for a place to spend the day. It could not, by any means, stay out in the sun. Soon, he found it. As the Shadow dissolved in a small corner on the ground, It rejoiced in the trepidation that would continue once the darkness returned.

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As most days, the alarm clock went off at exactly half past six in the morning. Reaching out a hand to it, Sakura opened one eye and looked at the ceiling of her small flat. It was bathed in the soft light of the first rays of sun, and the shadows of the curtain that moved slightly in the breeze, played games of hide-and-seek on it. Then, she closed it again, feeling drowsy. She had not slept well that night. The city was in the middle of a heat wave that summer and she had had to leave the window open in addition to turning on the electric fan. The noise of the cars and had kept her awake till the early hours of the morning, when she supposed she had finally fallen asleep from exhaustion. However, she could not afford to sleep anymore or she would be late for work. She stretched slowly, feeling the creak of her back and the slight roughness of the sheet under her on her skin. No matter how thin and short her nightgown was, she had ended up discarding it after it clung uncomfortably to her body because of the sweat. Absentmindedly, she put a hand on one of her breasts, sliding it to her stomach. She had never liked too much to sleep without clothes, it made her feel strangely defenceless. However, in cases like that, she preferred that sensation to the sticky one of the heat. Her head turned lazily to the alarm clock and she almost had a heart attack. Eleven minutes had already passed from the time she had supposedly had to get up and if she did not do it soon, she would miss her train. She sat down on the bed in a hurry and grabbed her nightgown, putting it on quickly before closing the curtain and turning off the electric fan. Grabbing a towel, she entered the shower.

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Barely on time, she ran down the stairs of the station to enter quickly in the train just before the doors closed. She sighed, relieved, and looked around. The coach was almost empty, except for an old man who was reading the newspaper and a young one who had fallen asleep and whose head, leant back against the glass of the window, rolled from one side to the other with the swaying of the train. It was really different from work days, when she usually was squeezed between people as she fought to keep her balance while receiving one or two pushes from people who moved towards the doors. She sighed in content. Even though the day before had been her last day of work before the holidays, the library where she worked was preparing an exhibition related to Obon and one of her workmates in charge of it with her and other two, had asked her the favour of covering her. She had promised her children to take them to the amusement park that day, before the shifts of that month were assigned, and she did not want to disappoint them, especially her younger one, whose birthday was that day. She had promised her that she would cover for her on the day she had to go back, so she could have an extra-day in her holidays. Honestly, even without that agreement, Sakura would not have minded having to go to work on Sunday. She loved what she did, and the library was like her second home.

She took out a folder from her bag and pulled out some papers stapled together that showed defined pictures of the pages of an old book. She had found it while looking for materials for the exhibition. It was a compendium of old myths in the prefecture, some of them well-known by her, with the location and descriptions of those deities’ shrines, including a map for pilgrims. She knew that some people considered her fascination weird, but she could not help it. She had been brought up in a small Shinto shrine and her adoptive mother, Priestess Tsunade, had instilled in her the respect for the Gods and supernatural beings, and the thirst of knowledge about her cultural roots. She liked to take trips and visit sacred places, famous or forgotten, and was planning to dedicate one or two days of her holidays to that hobby of hers.

Minutes later, she got off the train and walked the too familiar road to her workplace, going over the content of the exhibition and its order in the display cabinets once more. When she turned at one of the corners, the library appeared in front of her eyes, at the top of a slope, a hill full of trees and bushes before the city development reached it, devoiding it from its natural beauty. It was a relatively modern building made of cream coloured stone, with seven floors and large windows on the first three. There were five steps that led to the main entrance, a big wooden gate with a classic European design. She went around it to enter through the back door. Immediately, her nose perceived the smell of books that she loved so much, and a huge smile drew across her lips.

“Good morning!”

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The Shadow roamed around the city once more. After days of hunting, the hunger was starting to get unbearable and that made It slower. It paused to rest behind the fence that surrounded a building, between the lights of the street lamp and the entrance. It needed to find Its prey quick. If It did not, It could not carry out a much more important task, the one that really mattered. But for that, the Shadow needed the strength to shapeshift and be able to touch material things, and years and years of waiting for the perfect moment had weakened It. Now, It was merely that, a shadow.

Suddenly, a shudder went over It, like a wave. Near, Its prey was near. It could feel it. Gathering its strength, It slithered along the street to the end of it, and crawled the wall of a two-floor building, entering through the open window. It moved sinuously along the wall junctures and the shadows casted in the room with the most insignificant objects, anxiously. Finally, It reached Its target and, despite the overwhelming desperation, the Shadow looked at it for a moment, its rosy cheeks and slightly parted lips. It was so tender, so warm… As it slid under the prey’s back, It could feel the softness of its skin, as it wore few clothes because of the heat and It delighted with the sweet smell. A prey of such quality was not found every day…

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The baby next door started to cry suddenly, and Sakura woke up with a start. The room was still in darkness only an occasional car’s lights disrupted the shadows in the ceiling. The electric fan was working, blowing air on her legs, and she lifted her nightgown just under her breasts to feel the cool on her stomach, damp from the heat. She had been having a strange dream where she walked alone along the dark streets of the city, but she did remember anything else. She looked at the alarm clock with half closed eyes and sighed. There were still two hours left from the time she had set it and she turned on her stomach to cool her back and hid her face in the pillow. She had planned a short trip for that day to a small village half an hour from the city by bus where there was an ancient shrine dedicated to an old forgotten mountain god and she needed all the rest she could get. After a few moments, though, feeling uncomfortable, she lifted her torso just enough to grab the nightgown and pull, letting it fall beside her. She sighed in content as the cool air fanned across her back, and little by little, she fell into a deep slumber again, not realising that she was not alone in the room anymore.

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The Tengu landed on the tree after taking a surveillance flight of the mountain. It was one of the few things He still enjoyed doing in that life of His, too long now that He was alone. Not even humans came to the mountain anymore as they did before when it was one of the fastest ways to reach the capital, that it was not the capital anymore. Now, they rode those strange things with wheels that moved on their own. Only a few had ventured, laughing and making fun of legends; or beings with a skin of the colour of the milk who spoke strange languages in a loud voice, not minding the sacred place they were stepping on. They had got what they deserved, though, he remembered with a smirk. However, tricks were more fun when He did them with His brother and cousins. Now, it was more a way of releasing His anger against all that surrounded Him. He looked up and half closed His red and black eyes, leaning back on the trunk, watching the leaves move in the soft breeze. All that was deeply buried in old times, and He had stopped bothering or fighting against something He could not change. What only mattered to Him now was that everything was calm on His mountain.

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Sakura got off the bus and looked around. The village where she had stopped, located at the foot of three mountains, one much bigger than the other two and clearly a place of worshiping, was really small, just a few houses in a line along the border of the forest which covered them, framing the torii that marked the entrance of a shrine dedicated to the god of the highest mountain, a famous one which appeared in quite a few legends. She entered the sacred place and made a pray for her safe journey. Then, she went to buy some food and took out the photographed pages of the book to be sure, once more, of the route she had to take.

The myth said that there was a very small sanctuary deep in the forest of the mountain on her right, the one with an average height, dedicated to an old forgotten mountain deity worshiped and feared by the travellers who had to cross the mountain to go to the old capital, a legendary creature famous for His mischief and rage against those who did not pay a proper homage to him. Then, she looked around, trying to orient herself. The path to the mountain had to be near there.

“Excuse me,” she asked, walking towards an old lady who was watering the road outside her house. “Sorry for bothering you, but could I ask you some questions, please?”

She had learned in her little trips that old people were the most willing to share information about local myths, but only if they were approached with respect and politeness. The old woman looked at her upside down and then straightened a bit her bent back.

She took out her map.

“Could you tell me the way to go to the mountain, please?”

She lifted her brows scornfully.

“There’s a small stand just next to the bus stop. Didn’t you see it?”

“Oh, yes I did” she smiled. “But I don’t want to climb that mountain, but that one” she said, pointing at the one behind the lady’s house, and she opened her eyes in surprise.

“This one? Why? Nobody goes there nowadays, Miss.”

“I’m a librarian, you see, and I’m interested in traditional legends” she smiled a bit; she had also learnt that to receive information, one had to give a little first. “Moreover, I grew up in a shrine and I’d like to visit the ones I hear people talk about, or read in books, and that are not so well-known.”

She eyed her, and Sakura had the impression that she was evaluating her, trying to see if she was lying or not.

“A few years ago, some stupid kids or a fool tourist came from time to time and went from one mountain to the other, behaving really poorly. But the gods punished them because they usually came back scared and saying things about rolling rocks that almost squashed them and a strange laughter in the air.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Our ancestors believed that a Tengu clan lived in that mountain.”

Sakura opened her eyes in surprise. That was not what the book said. She felt a bubbling excitement in her chest, as if she was going to open a present.

“There was a small shrine dedicated to Them and they went there once a year to make offerings so they wouldn’t fall victim of Their impishness. However, the legend says that They angered the gods and they exterminated Them, and it’s this the fourth generation since we don’t go up there. But some of us still leave a small offering on the path to said shrine. Even though They are not there anymore, we have to respect Their spirits. And to tell you the truth,” she beckoned her and lowered her voice, “no mischief had happened to those of us who do it… while I can’t say the same of those who don’t… so maybe there are still some of Them up there” she regarded to the young woman with a lifted brow. “Do you want to go up there yet?”

Sakura looked at the mountain pensively, and then, nodded.

“Oh, I see that you’re a stubborn one, Miss…” the old lady put her hands in her waist and looked at her once more, this time with a small smile. “Wait here.”

The woman came out a few minutes later, carrying a small parcel.

“Take this with you for your lunch” she said practically pushing it in her hands, and Sakura knew it better than to refuse, even if it was politely, or telling her that she had already bought food. “And this” she added putting another small bundle on her palm. “As an offering from myself. Don’t unwrap it under any circumstances. Only They can do it.”

“I’ll do it as you wish” she opened her backpack and put the things inside carefully. “And thank you for the lunch. I really appreciate it.”

The woman moved her hand, playing it down.

“Now, show me that map of yours” she said, pointing at the pages Sakura carried on her hand. “Oh, and one more thing,” she added after showing her the way. “Buy something to offer Them. That way, They won’t play pranks you on your trip.”

Sakura nodded again, adjusting her rucksack to her back and nodding politely. Then, she turned and started her journey.

“And don’t forget to pray to the Chimata-no-Kami before you go up!”

“Don’t worry!” she waved with a smile and turned at the corner the old woman had told her.

The lady shook her head with a sigh. Young girls those days…

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After a brief prayer and an offering of a few coins, Sakura started the path that went up the mountain. At the beginning, it was wide and the trees, tall and proud, were well kept. However, as the slope started to get stipper, the track became narrower and there were fallen pieces of wood, already half decayed, here and there, which she had to get around. Big rocks covered with moss bordered her way for some time, and the roots of the trees nearer the trail had risen from the ground and twisted in disturbing shapes. The sun she could see among the crowns, now was barely visible, the branches twining over her head, making a green cave. She shivered slightly, feeling a mixture of reverence and unease in that quiet, uncanny atmosphere. It truly felt like the home of a deity from the past.

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The Tengu startled, straightening on the branch and scanning his surroundings, frowning deeply. Someone had entered His territory. He stood up and unfolded His wings, taking off at a high speed and flying through the trees, not even brushing one with the tip of His feathers, as if they opened at His passing. The presence was near Him now, and He wrinkled his nose at the stench that humans always brought with them: smoke, sweat, impurity, deep-buried desires… However, there was something different about this one. The smell was not so strong as He had expected, but also, there was something hidden in it, a strange scent he could not name. He landed on a branch just above the ground just in time to see her approaching along the barely seen path with papers in her hands. She stopped a bit under the tree, looking around and then, she sighed, frustrated.

“I think I got lost…” she murmured softly, as she compared one of the pages, which was brownish and had something written in an intricate calligraphy, with the map depicted in the other one. “I should have turned to the right in this intersection…” she was talking to herself.

She sat down under the tree, and the Tengu observed her as she took out a bottle of water and took some sips, staring down at the papers she had put on her lap. He crouched a bit curious. The calligraphy seemed really old and He could barely make out most of the kanji, only a few that talked about the path across the mountain and something about the deity of the place. A deity. He smirked. Typical of stupid humans not being able to distinguish a goblin from a god…

He sat down on the branch. She seemed harmless, so he relaxed against the trunk and closed his eyes, letting one of his legs hang from the branch. A long, long time ago, He would have possessed her to tempt any stupid monk who dared to cross His mountain. In other circumstances, He would have, maybe, kidnapped her and left her in the middle of the forest just to amuse Himself seeing how she tried to find her way again. Or probably, He would have taken his anger on her for feeling alone, and forgotten by those who had to pay Him homage. But that was all in the past now and He did not feel like having fun.

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Sakura reached the crossroads where she had strayed her way and took the other path. It was in a similar state to the other one, and she had, once more, to walk looking at the ground to avoid any roots or small rocks hidden by the fallen leaves. Then, she looked at her maps again. If the old one was correct, something that, in that moment, she was not so sure anymore, the shrine should be around that area. She walked slowly, paying attention to where she put her feet and her surroundings. Otherwise, she would not have seen the torii half hidden by two trees, one of them completely leaning on it, covering the top part with its branches. Through them, she could see the sign which marked the sanctuary, that filled her heart with a sincere feeling of happiness, and she smiled satisfied at having reached her goal.

Tengu

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The Tengu snapped his eyes open, His pupils changing into a six-points star, cursing himself. So that human was looking for His clan’s sanctuary. He gritted His teeth, it had been too long since the last human stepped through His mountain and he had become careless. But He would not forgive those who dared to desecrate His land. He vanished.

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The short paved road was cracked in several places and roots and plants grew between its stones. The small shrine was in shambles and the climbers had taken possession of the place. It seemed that it was true what the old lady said. Nobody came to pray there anymore. She felt sadness replace the happiness that she had been feeling until that moment. As her adoptive mother said, no creature, supernatural or from this world, should be forgotten because that meant a much worse death than the physical one. She clenched her jaw. Well, if there was not a single person who went there to show her respect, she, who had reached what many thought a figment of men from ancient times’ imagination, would do it.

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The Tengu appeared on top of the torii and knelt, a rock materialising in His hand. A well-aimed throw to her back would not kill her, but she would learn not to mess with the goblins of that mountain. A few hours in the outdoors without being able to move and feeling the humidity of the summer heat in the air and the wild animals sounds would be a good scare for someone like her. Then, the girl turned to go where the old purification fountain was and He stopped His movement suddenly, frowning confused. She took the bottle from her backpack, that she left at her feet, again and performed the ritual with water from it.

Then, she returned to the shrine and clapped twice, bowing in respect and prayer. The Tengu closed his fingers around the rock, so strongly that it became dust, feeling something soft grow inside Him. It had been a long time since someone prayed at His clan’s shrine. He remembered the difference He had perceived when He had seen her, and now He knew what that was. Sincerity and respect for what was above her understanding.

Then, she went back to her backpack and took something from it.

“This is from an old lady who lives in the village at the foot of the mountain” she said, putting a small wrapping on top of the offering box after she pushed some wild ivy aside. “She told me to give it to you… But she didn’t tell me her name…”

The smell of the offering reached Him and He knew immediately who she was. She left offerings for Him every year at the start of the path, just after passing the Chimata-no-Kami stone. Before, she went higher, but He supposed that, with each passing year, her age weighed her down more and more. Also, she left some little things, like a riceball or some pickled radish, for him in her back garden sometimes. He knew because her prayers always reached Him.

“And this is from me. It’s store-bought and I didn’t think about offering it at the beginning, so I don’t know if it will mean anything.”

She bowed again and then, taking her things, went back to the forest.

There was a change in the air and the Tengu lifted His head sharply, taking out one of His swords from their sheath at His back. Looking around cautiously. He had not felt such an evil energy in the mountain for centuries. The last time had been when…

As soon as the girl put a foot outside the torii, energy cracked and she was suddenly surrounded by a black crackle and pushed forward, falling down the stairs with a panicked cry. After tumbling down the steps, she landed at the base of the steps, hitting her head on a rock by the trail, lying lifeless for a moment before her lips left out a weak pained moan. His pupils widened and He gritted His teeth. Such a pure soul attacked in His mountain, in His shrine, spilling her blood in His clan’s grounds. He was not going to allow it.

The Tengu looked around, angered, and His eyes changed again, three slits parting from His pupil, as His body brimmed with power, surrounding it in a dark blue aura that winded like a blaze, and His wings spread out. A fan made of feathers appeared in his hand. He perceived a sudden movement on his left and a spear of black power materialised out of thin air, aiming straight at her. He fanned towards it and the strong gust of wind made it disappear. However, it was not finished with just that. The whole atmosphere was still filled with darkness, and He kept up His guard, knowing there would be another attack, trying to perceive the direction from which it would come with the fast movement of His pupils. And then, in the tree on His right, a flash of crackle, louder than before, wrapped it around one of the branches. He moved the fan again and all trace of a magical presence suddenly vanished. However, the branch was already damaged and with a sickening crack, it broke off, just as the young woman, who had regained her consciousness was trying to lift herself from the ground, supporting herself on her elbows.

“Idiot, watch out!”

Sakura heard the words clear, very near, and afraid, she looked from one side to the other, not seeing anyone. When she twisted her body and looked up, she saw the branch coming to crush her in a slow motion. She tried to move, crawling with the help of her hands and feet but she was still dizzy from the injury on her head and a cut in her leg made her actions slow. She braced herself for the impact.

Suddenly, Sakura had the feeling that something, someone, was covering her.

The branch fell down on Him and the Tengu grunted, feeling something that was not really pain but that surged through all His body. He looked at the woman encased in His arms, her hands covering her head and her eyes closed tightly. She seemed fine and He smiled lightly, relieved. With his arm, He tossed the branch aside and then, tried to stand up. And then, it came. A lacerating burning surged from His back and He collapsed on top of the girl who he had just saved.

Sakura opened her lids slowly after a few moments of deafening silence after the noise of the branch hitting the ground that still resounded in her ears. She was still alive. And she was alone. Uncovering her head, she made a quick mental check of her state. Apart from the injuries from the fall, she did not feel any new wounds. Carefully, she sat down, cleaning with the back of one of her hands the blood that had run down the side of her face, and set her eyes briefly on the branch, that strangely was a few metres from her. Then, her pupils wandered her arm and her body, and then, stopped on her lap. There, lying lifeless, it was one of the most beautiful birds of prey she had ever seen. She was not sure about the name, but it was not very big, with long narrow wings and tail. It was brown, but in some parts of its body, it was a paler shade. Its legs ended in sharp claws. She gasped when her eyes fell on the big wood chip sticking near the joint between its back and wing.

“Hey, little one…”

With extreme care, she touched it with a finger. Its feathers were soft and she ran it along the shape of its chest, very slowly. Not obtaining any reaction, she took it in her hands, staining them with blood. The bird trembled once.

“No… Please, no…” she whispered, feeling her eyes fill with tears.

She frowned. It was not the time to cry, she had to make a decision, and quickly. But, she berateded herself, what decision was there to make… There was only one. Delicately, she wrapped the bird in one of the towels she had brought with her, and taking it in her arms, ignoring the searing pain in her head and leg, she started to go back along the path at the fastest pace she could muster.

Going down the steep was easier than when she had started her journey, apart from the fact that she remembered the places she had passed by before and in half the time she had taken to reach the shrine, she was already at the foot of the mountain. With a quick bow, still half running, she apologised the Chimata-no-Kami for not thanking them properly for their protection in her trip, making a mental note to ask for forgiveness later and make a more generous offering.

“Miss!” the old lady, who was at the corner, twisting her hands frantically and looking at the path, went to meet her as soon as she saw her, staring at her with wide eyes and a pale face. “I was very worried! There was wind coming down the mountain and a thundering sound-!”

“I need help!”

The other woman looked at her wounds and the blood that soaked part of her clothes anxiously, but she shook her head, playing it down, and she showed her the bundle in her arms. The woman startled letting a strangled cry leave her lips.

“This is…!”

“It needs a vet urgently. Is the bus here yet?!” Sakura interrupted her.

“It just departed-” she rummaged in the pocket of her apron. “Give me a moment!”

She took out an old mobile phone and dialled a number.

“Shoichirou, stop the bus now!” someone answered to her. “There’s an emergency with a girl!”

Not waiting for an answer, she hung up.

“Quickly” she said pushing her. “The bus is still down that path” she looked at the bird. “And please, take care of Him…”

She nodded curtly and started to run as fast as she could, not noticing that the old lady put her hands together, like in a prayer, and bowed deeply.

Sakura found the bus just after turning the sharp curve after leaving the village. The driver had got off the vehicle and was waiting for her, with his arms crossed on his chest and a mixture of annoyance and confusion on his face. However, seeing the state in which the young woman was, his expression changed to one of deep concern.

“Sorry” she said bowing first to him and then to the passengers who were looking at her through the windows with deep curiosity painted on their faces.

“Come on” he ushered her in, getting on after her. “You need to see a doctor immediately…”

She paid her ticket and then, sat down on the first free seat she saw, barely containing a gesture of pain as she took off her backpack. The bus started its journey again and as it went down the mountain, Sakura put the bird, who was losing its warmth little by little, against her chest.

“You can’t die…”

TO BE CONTINUED…

Extra-notes:

-I won’t call Sasuke by his name until probably the middle of next chapter because of reasons that I hope I’ll be able to explain properly in the story, so be patient, please ^^U

-Sasuke’s Complete Susanoo is a Tengu. In this story it's dark blue because that’s the colour it has in the original manga. There are a few fanarts which depict Sasuke with Susanoo’s armour. His Tengu form here is inspired by these ones:

http://jmbfanart.deviantart.com/art/Sasuke-Perfect-Susano-o-Armor-475753671 (I love it ♡)

http://tuanenam.deviantart.com/art/sasuke-vs-naruto-susanoo-armor-vs-bijuu-modo-357840182

-I’m still thinking if Sasuke’ll have black eyes at any moment in the story. I read somewhere that Tengu have red eyes, so Sasuke’s pupils will be the Sharingan. When he’s relaxed, he’s got the normal one, if he’s on guard, his eyes change to Mangekyou Sharingan, and in his Tengu form, Eternal Mangekyou Sharingan. My descriptions regarding the Sharingan are not very good yet, but I promise I’ll get better at them.

[lunamanar]

I Needed This

This is something I posted a month or two ago, but it was then pointed out that almost all of the links were broken...and at the same time, tumblr enacted their new restrictive linking policy. Meaning almost no one it was directed at actually saw it. I haven’t had the chance to correct the problem until now, and in that short time, the post referred to has climbed to over 14,000 notes. Like...what? Holy crap. Okay.

I wish I could sit down and reply to everyone who responded to the post, but at this point that’s just impossible. Just know, I do see the notes, and I’m grateful for every single one.

Below is the fixed post, as it was supposed to appear in April. If you’ve already read it, feel free to disregard this and scroll on by.

So...I’m gonna do one of my weird things. This isn’t really to do with FFVIII, but...I feel like I owe people this. Because I’ve been watching this silly little writing power build and build and snowball, and...it just seems...so counter to the situation of the people I seem to be reaching, that I can’t just let it sit there and rack up “points” in the form of notes without taking a moment (well, a few hours at this point, but I had the time, and this is what I decided to do with it) to at least acknowledge the response. I’ve received messages from people, a flood of kind comments and tags, I’ve watched people reach out to one another to support them in their writing endeavors. Most of it has been outside this fandom, so...I apologize ahead of time if this is somewhat off-topic.

I really don’t know how to begin talking about this, because I���m terrified it’s going to sound like I’m trying to call as much selfish attention as possible to a viral post I made by total accident. That’s not what I want to do at all, here, and please believe me when I say that I don’t think I did anything to deserve thousands of notes on what amounts to a “top ten” post of personal writing philosophies. When I posted it, I thought it might be helpful to a few very specific people in my immediate fandom circle. I never thought it would escape that circle, much less become the...giant ball of positivity that it has. Not that I’m complaining! I’m so beyond floored that it reached as far as it has, I don’t even know what to feel about it, anymore. I certainly don’t feel like I wrote anything brilliant. More than anything, I’m just...puzzled. And flattered, by how many people have been leaving kind tags and notes for me.

The other thing that I feel about it, though, is...sadness. Sadness that so many people feel such anxiety over their writing abilities. So many personal things have been said on this post, by total strangers, about their struggles with anxiety, depression, trauma, alienation and isolation when it comes to their writing. Some people write thousands of words and post them with bated breath, only to be met with a few hits and no comments. Some people are so certain that they have nothing of value to add that they can’t even bring themselves to start. Some think they’re too old to start now, that all their peers of the same age are so far “ahead” of them, they’ll never have any hope of “catching up.” Some are embarrassed to be writing at all, then they’re unemployed and feel like they should be looking for a “real” job instead of indulging in hobbies. There are so many hundreds of ways writer’s block and blues affects people, and the reality of it is, well...I wish they would all go through the hundreds, even thousands of tags and replies simply so they could see how not alone they are in their struggles. Maybe they could even find other people who would be up to being their reading partner, so they could have someone to trade stories with. So many people posting to a void, and it’s hard to see that it should have to be that way.

So...I mean, I don’t know what this will do, if it will do anything. This makes me feel nervous in itself, actually, because I’m not only reaching out to strangers, I’m going to be tagging people who aren’t even a part of the pleasant little community that is FFVIII. A lot of them. And maybe I’ll screw up...maybe I’ll tag someone who doesn’t want the exposure. I tried to comb through bios and take out anyone who explicitly said they were selective about who they talked to. If I tag you here, and you want me to delete your name, please send me a message and I will do so as soon as I see the request.

But at the very least...I do want everyone I ping in this post to know that someone--me, at least--saw their response, and felt it, too. I want their stories to be written and I want them to find the audience who enjoys those stories. I’m here saying, “hey, I see you. I give a shit.” Even if I don’t know anything about whatever fandom you’re in, or if you’re writing a completely original story, or whatever...it’s important. There is nothing more tragic to me than a story aching to be shared that never sees the light of day.

I also want to acknowledge some potential mistakes I may have made in writing that post (and this one). Few people had anything bad to say about it--and thank you all, for such tolerance of my rambles--but I am certainly not perfect, and I want to try to improve my communication where I can so I do ever less harm.

...I guess I’ll start, then.

Tumblr is chock full of “don’ts” when it comes to writing, and it’s my opinion that there’s just not enough love out there for the simple act of writing, itself a massive investment of time, energy and brain cells. Not every piece you write will be a success, but there is much to be said for the energy it takes to carry a story in your head, let alone take that and translate it into words so others can share the meaning it holds for you.

So, take a look at this. I posted that list sometime in...October 2016? I think? And in 7 months, 11,000 people either liked or reblogged it, and most people who reblogged it left a tag or two. By far, besides your generic “writing” or “writing advice,” the most common tag of note was this:

#I Needed This

...or something to that effect. I tried to find and count as many as I could. And I really want people to see just how many accounts out there who just happened to see a single writing tips list felt that they needed the encouragement. And those were the ones who were able to work up the nerve to say so in the comments or tags. I’m sure many more were too shy (and that’s OK).

@finduilasnumenesse @amid-a-lightless-place @phan-band-fandoms @powerfulweak @kayteonline @anotherwinchesterfangirl @blue-phoenix-tears @requiemforthewolves @indi-flying-with-dragons @puppytoast @bxanxgtan @mcfuzzy20 @hexthespectre @purple-and-red-ribbons @fromotterspace @burn-it-slow @tehartmonkee @dutifullymadameashley @killiandameron @captainpoopweinersoldier @artlessictoan @purrtlepuff @chocolatebunnycake @argent-gale @nothingtoleave @nightmare-fantasia @midniallsnack @andromedas-daughter @my-write-mind @different-principles @tangeythetangerine @c-e-gold @random-alefiasolar @ellebeedarling @droid-to-the-world @xpress--urself @closeonmarksnosedive @thinkblueandr3d @novemblu @leopoldfitz @tonks42 @seraphim-of-the-finale @dragonshost-fanfiction @poketin @ofcoursetheymind @author-of-sins @peetaspikelets @officialao3fandomlastforever @randomfangirllaughs @thereddestglass @gaybirdkid @sailorgreywolf @strangesorceries @thecorruptedquietone @melifair @ganbareno @peanutbutterflutist @bi-antagonist @preciousgaby @atomicpen @mariamagica @comebacknow @reconfemmandoforares @happiestastronaut @marmaladephan @ayumichan46 @sergeantrooper @weldlys @bearlytolerable @thatnewcarsmeli @rozenly @notori @mymomthinksimfunny1 @sylvesterelle @edwardsisland @be-kita

@welkikitty

...I know people tend to not like vertical lists of @’s, but I just...want to illustrate that each of these tumblr names is a person who has a story to tell, is in some way struggling with their confidence level, and often, that lack of confidence is due to obscurity. Frequently, feeling intimidated by the work and popularity of one’s peers is just as pen-stopping.

But just by skimming each of their blogs (which I did, individually--this has taken hours of my time), I can say with certainty that none of these writers are bad ones, and I wish I had the time to sit down and read everything they all had to offer, not just to make them all feel better, but because I am sincerely curious! Look at all the fandoms! Look at all the genres here! This is a veritable cornucopia of colorful ideas and potential. Most of these people are relatively unknown. If you’re in one of the fandoms you see here, aren’t you curious about what you’re missing? Goes double for people who have original novels they’re working on, but have no one to read over their script and help them with it. Seriously, isn’t there something that can be done about that?

The second most popular tag was some variant of “thank you.” Which is very sweet, but I really don’t read that as indicating any virtue of mine so much as just another indication of need, someone who needed to read or hear that their situation isn’t hopeless, they don’t suck, and they can write that story they’re struggling with. They don’t hear anyone else telling them that on any sort of regular basis. Especially for someone who’s still trying to find their footing/niche as a writer, that’s a toxic, tragic state of being if writing is something you love. And for the record, I don’t buy for a second that love is enough to keep someone writing if no one is there to read it. Not for struggling authors and people just starting out. Silence is just as bad as, if not worse than condemnation for emerging writers. It’s one thing for an established writer to let a quiet, or disappointed crowd roll off their backs; they have the experience to know and trust in their own skill, and--largely because they already have a support network--can get back on that horse and keep writing even if they produced a lemon or two. Someone without that experience or support? Silence and strict criticism, more than anything, tends to cause a shutdown. (Yes, I’m aware there are exceptions, but in general, it’s true, and I’ve seen it again and again: “My writing doesn’t meet x standard, so what’s the point in even trying?”)

The point is that you usually have to walk before you run, and you can’t even get that far without support, encouragement, praise and redirection. You don’t even have to be an established mentor, you can be a passerby--hey that’s a nicely worded metaphor, good job...you misspelled “principle,” there--and you cannot understate just how helpful even that little interaction can be, if you’re positive about it. Even if you were flying at one point, it’s possible to fall, and if you do, you’ll need some help picking yourself back up. So when I say “don’t write in a vacuum,” that’s what I mean: even if you don’t show your work to anyone until you finish it, just knowing that there is someone out there waiting to see it, and anticipating it, willing to help you with it if you need it, and cheering you on all the while, is empowering. Isolation, on the other hand, not knowing who if anyone will even care to read your work or like it once it’s done, breeds blank pages and brain fog. Much of creativity is about communication. If there’s no one to communicate with, creativity suffocates. Unless you are a particularly talented introvert, you can only carry on a conversation with yourself for so long before all the words start to sound the same.

So, to @castiel-comatose, to @satari-raine, @referencesforpiamio... to

@blue-phoenix-tears @mama-sally @indi-flying-with-dragons @acidmatze @vanillaroses @fromotterspace @pristinepastel @blankinsidecards @nynynightmare @ruminationandtea @chocowl @chiyala @mag-i-cal @andromedas-daughter @megatraven @the-real-inu-girl @remsyk-blog @universe-apart @xmayleensyo @ellipsesarefun @internallydeceased @kigamin @sweeneymads @wepush @heartofpages @lauralot89 @franzwantscoffee @loveablelevi @poketin @maginpui @richard-of-windoor @yuri-on-ice-ice-babyyyy @azurethoughts @thunderstormsandcuddles @bekasyura @contentmintdraws @kurosakiami01 @strangesorceries @brynnmclean @howtotrainyouragents @lumierc @spywerewolf @yourcouragetothestickingplace @heuvelliedje @kateandtheuniverse @weeardo0 @ayumichan46 @silverbuttercups @rozenly @heartofwriting @darthshizuka @guardianmantis @gladnis-trash @firstorderelite @amiitens

...You’re welcome for the post, but it really was just...that sometimes, *I* feel isolated, and I feel like my writing is shit and no one could possibly care. But experience has taught me that there are so many reasons that’s simply an illogical sentiment, and those ten-ish items help me remember why it’s far more reasonable to assume I’m a good writer who faces the inherent difficulties of publishing in a vast sea of other writers on the Internet. In many ways, including with the list itself, I got lucky, got noticed by other people who already had a lot of followers, and through them I found people who were interested in my work, not because I’m some amazing writer (I’m not...just look at this structural disaster of a post at 5-something in the morning), but because I bothered to reach out in the first place. I’ve made similar posts several times in the past, and they didn’t go anywhere, but this time, I just ran into the right people at the right time. So it got to you, and you commented or tagged, and now you’re on this post with a bunch of other people you probably don’t know. Keep trying, and it happens, eventually. You will be seen.

That’s the real tragedy of all this...your ability to be seen and heard is attributable as much to chance as it is anything else. And you can’t really start to make your own luck until you have some social capital. I have a few followers, and so I hope that posting this can facilitate at least a little bit more luck for everyone I mention. So don’t be scared to respond (reblog--more people see that than when you comment), and say what you’re working on that you want people to see, or that your afraid won’t be finished, or won’t turn out right. Start a conversation about it. Say what about the story is important to you. Reach out. Let people know you have a story you want to tell, one that really matters to you. Maybe give a brief synopsis--you’d be surprised how that can pique someone’s interest. Really, anything. Just keep trying. Over time, people will find you.

Either way, point is, I don’t know you, and you don’t know me, but just because you left a tag on a post that helped you, someone saw you, liked you, and has every confidence that you have beautiful stories in your head that you are more than capable of putting to the keys. Whatever else you do with that information, please do not stop writing, and if you need help, maybe look through some of the people here who are or have been feeling rather invisible--there’s likely someone who shares your interests. Or just reblog, or message me, or message someone you know who maybe you haven’t thought to ask before, whatever it is you feel brave enough to do. If you want to, that is. If you don’t want to, that’s alright. I just...wanted to give everyone I saw a chance, a platform for it.

If I have one thing to add to my list--a #11--it’s that if you have a lack of support, encouragement and visibility in your writing life, you should probably treat that as a primary obstacle to your writing, before you blame yourself or your abilities. Beating yourself up for not being able to grab people’s attention without a preexisting network isn’t fair to you, although the inclination is understandable, given the expectation people tend to have for writers to do exactly that. But the truth is, you owe it to yourself to reserve judgement on your own work until you’ve seen what you can do with that support.

Now that I’ve spend entirely too many words explaining what’s probably a very simple concept, there were a few responses to the post that I felt...like I should answer, specifically. This isn’t because these people are better than anyone in the lists above (in fact many of them are in those lists), it’s simply because they said something I happened to have a specific response to. So...here goes nothing. Making friends, I hope!

@night57byrd

replied to your post

“Things I Try to Remember When I’m Nervous About Writing”

Thank you for this advice and wisdom. I have long harbored dreams of writing but have allowed my inner inner critic hold me back. This posting has given me a tremendous boost. Thank you for the gift.

This was one of the most heartwarming comments I received, and it showed up on my dash on a day where it seemed like everything was just falling apart around me. I should thank you, for giving me the synergy boost to soldier through the rest of a very difficult day. Knowing that at least I’d done something that had helped someone that much helped me make it through without breaking down. So thank you, for your gift of strength to me. I sincerely hope you enjoy getting into the wonderful, if often stormy world of writing (and I hope you’re able to get another season out of Pitch--I’ve been meaning to give that show a shot, along with Southside With You, but it just hasn’t happened for me, yet).

@wtf-and-shit

replied to your post

“Things I Try to Remember When I’m Nervous About Writing”

I really needed this cause I’ve been in a slump of sorts. Even asked myself “what do others want to read?”

And @whenimaunicorn has similar woes:

sometimes i lose my own voice trying to please the whole crowd but i'm just writing 'my' story not 'the' story i gotta remember that

Asking what others want to read (or conversely, what other want you to write) is a nasty trap I’ve fallen into multiple times. It’s not even conscious, half the time, you just start worrying if the words you’re putting on the page are just going to be too weird, to boring, or just not what people want to see. You start tweaking things to better reflect what you think others want to see, and before you know it, you’re writing something you really just don’t care about at all. I really sincerely believe that the best way to keep a story from falling over dead is to be continually invested in the content, even if that means changing the story to accommodate you when your interests change. That can sometimes lead the story in strange directions, but better a story be strange than incomplete, I would think.

Several people commented about calling themselves names:

@freestridingprinces said:

One of my very cute kouhais tagged me in this. I have a terrible habit of doing all of the negative things on this list. I’ve called myself boring many times. I will stop. I would never call anyone else who I’ve ever spoken with boring. So, I’m working on staying positive and nice to myself along with you all. Thank you for being kind to me when I needed it.

while @thecrimsonarcher is similarly inclined:

#10 is my biggest issue. Honestly, judging by the lack of feedback from my writings, I have come to the conclusion that my writings lack creativity because I am unable to hold anyone’s attention. My story is a mixture between Lovecraftian horror, psychological horror, and Southern gothic. Nobody wants to read that during this day in age.

and further notes the difficulties of competing with erotica (sorry, I switch the order of paragraphs for effect):

It’s made worse when no one gives me feedback or likes the post. Was my story really that bad? Did it suck so bad it didn’t warrant a response? More often than not, I find myself deleting my progress that I post on Facebook or Tumblr. If no one will give it the time of day, why even post it? What’s the point? The only way you’ll ever get recognized for writing on Tumblr is if you do fanfics, especially erotic fanfics.

I suspect one of the reasons fanfiction is as popular as it is, is that you automatically have something of a fan base right from the getgo, because the material in question is...well, by definition, a product of fandom. It’s also just a fact of life that people love smut, and often they love it for smut’s sake, rather than paying much attention to the quality of the writing. And that’s fine! But it does make things complicated when what you write is not smut.

One thing I would recommend is looking up some good Genfic groups. Even if you’re not planning on writing exclusively sex/relationship-free stuff, they might be a good place to start with short stories, just to build an audience and start working in the right direction to find more people who are looking for more than just getting off.

@dust2dust34 chimed in,

i've been very unkind to myself lately with blood hands     very unkind  

and @headphonesandbackpack also gives themselves a hard time,

#i need to keep that in mind #also i tend to hate my writing style #i think it's incredibly boring #i bore the shit out of myself while boring #but my french teachers seem to love what i write??? #and when i read it like a year later i think it's not that bad #i guess i need to believe in myself

There’s a lot of people out there who beat themselves up over their percieved skill level:

@lechatrouge673: I HAVE A CRISIS OF CONFIDENCE AT LEAST ONCE A WEEKAND I FEEL LIKE AN UTTER FRAUD

@ishipmyselfwitheveryone:  +sometimes i call myself 'useless sack of severed cocks' when i won't write good  +maybe that's part of my problem

(Well...tbh, yes? haha, I can think of several politicians who are far more deserving of being called that right now...*ahem* ANYWAY...)

@dragonsinparis has some strong feelings (that I agree with) while falling to #10 even in tags:

#i'm a lazy enough writer that i only actually get off my ass if there's a story i desperately want that I can't find  #(hence state of grace and this isn't what we meant especially)  #but what you're looking for that you can't find can be as simple as a style or an aspect or a moment or a choice  #which means that it is still rooted in your voice  #ANYWAY EVERYONE KEEP WRITING  #STORIES BUILD COMPASSION AND IF THERE IS ANYTHING WE NEED MORE OF IN THE WORLD IT IS THAT

So the self-berating issue seems to be pretty common, if completely unnecessary. Again the ability--or inability--to be able to get the words out perfectly is held as a measure of one’s talent or potential, and frustration with that and/or a lack of feedback leads to self-abuse--or it seems that way to me, correct me if I’m wrong, or want to add to this analysis. I’m no expert...but I remember that’s kinda how it worked, for me. I thought I should be able to just be better, and additionally, I didn’t want anyone to think I was stuck-up or pretentious about my work, so I said a lot of damaging things about myself and my writing, just to keep my expectations down so I could avoid disappointment. Problem was, the more I said it, the more I believed it, and the harder it was to actually feel like writing was worth the effort. It wasn’t until very recently I found enough support for that behavior to change, and I’m much less likely to put myself down nowadays.

Several people were just happy that kindness showed up in their feed:

@litwww:  Thank you, kind person who randomly appeared on my dash ❤

@letspartyrightnowplease:  I really needed this right now as I’ve been struggling and stressing the heck out

@zodiacdog101:  Thanks dude this helped through the slump I’m going through

@classicbkrder815:  Reblog. Thanks i needed this today. Lol I’m going to read it everyday to inspire myself.

@orcaspanielmermaids:  These are some of the kindest words I’ve received all week, after struggling with RL issues on top of fighting to get out of the corner I’ve written myself into. Thank you, OP. <3

@gymleader-nick:  You have no idea how bad I needed to hear this right now.

I swear I’m not including these to fan my ego, I was just very surprised how many people seemed surprised to find something encouraging on their dash. I am very happy that the list helped! I hope it continues to. But as @dragonsinparis opined above, encouragement and compassion in the writing world appear to be in lamentably short supply.

Guilt over breaks, unfinished work and asking for attention also seems to be a big culprit of empty-page syndrome:

@beqm:  I love the ‘You’re allowed to take breaks.“ Because right now I feel like I’m being a horrible slacker. I want to write but everything else seems to bee getting in the way.

@perpetuallyfive:  #the guilt is what makes writing the hardest for me? #any time i'm struggling with something and think ''maybe switch to another piece for now'' i feel bad #any time i ask someone to look at my stuff #anytime i want to say i'm trying to write a thing and i worry i won't finish in time and then all i can think is that i never finish in time #i sometimes try not to even post a thing until another thing is half finished because there are those times when no one cares #about that last thing you posted and it's SO DISCOURAGING #like you accept that you just write for you but it makes it hard to continue the next thing when you can't stop thinking you know #maybe you're not that good anymore #maybe you never were maybe it was just the fandom you were in was fucking thirsty #writing is the worst honestly except for those limited few times when it's the best #(i've been trying to write lately. if you couldn't tell.) #anyway i'm going to reread this list a lot right now.

@icybluepenguin: #I wish I were better talking about my stories with other writers #It always helps #But I always feel so guilty

@woodlandcrowns: I'd love to have a support circle of [fanfiction] writers--or even for original stuff at timesbut I believe I'd be a bother

@effinunicorns: I need to work on the 'talking to people about my fic' thing more but it feels so awkward

#7 of the list is a quick reminder for me that however many unfinished works I have that I never tell anyone about, there are just as many behind all the finished, polished stories I see on the AO3 pages of my friends. And hey, some people are simply more prolific than others, and that’s all right. Has no bearing on your worth as a writer if you cannot churn out chapter after chapter. Focus on what you want to do, what’s exciting for you to write right now. Then go for it. At some point, you’re going to get absorbed in one of those projects until it’s finished. It might take a while, even years, but it will happen, and you’ll find your groove along the way.

I should’ve made a 7.1: the number of finished works is not a measure of whether you’re a good writer. It’s worth considering that the purpose of writing, as an art, isn’t always to follow a story all the way to completion. If writing is a sort of “zen” thing for you, something you do to explore ideas for yourself, communicate them to others, and just enjoy and grow as a person through the process, it really doesn’t matter if the stories go unfinished, as long as you benefit from the exercise. Writing can be as much akin to meditation as it can be a job that you live off of. If that’s how it works for you, it’s still legit and you can still be extremely good at it. Even if you never finish a single piece, if it’s making your life better, don’t sweat it. Enjoy your talent for what it is. You can always hone it, but if the process of trying is both failing and causing you to lose confidence or self-esteem, maybe your writing pattern and skill is just different from that of the typical “career writer.” Maybe not, but it’s worth thinking about, and if that’s how it is for you, don’t let anyone tell you that you suck just because.

A lot of people are scared/already convinced that nothing they produce is any good and no one wants to read it:

@formsans96:  I just feel that no one does like them that much. Even my finished works.

@canadian-buckbeaver:  I keep looking at the views and kudos of other stories and it immediately affects me. “Why am I not that popular?” “Am I not that good?” But then I read everyone’s comments… immediately feel better.

@noodle-dogs:  #I HAVE LIKE....3 BIG PLOTS IN MY HEAD RN #BUT IM JUST SCARED MY WRITING WONT BE GOOD ENOUGH

@decembercamiecherries:  I get really nervous when writing WTWFI'm scared it won't turn out good and pple will be disappointed

@talentlessandoptimistic:  #the downside is I'm literally the only person who wants to read it #which is why I don't share it

@sandrasr91:  sometime I want to write but I don't know if it'll be any good

@itsactuallycorrine:  # i keep telling myself i just need to put words on the page # but i'm at the halfway point and doubting everything

This is writer anxiety #1, and I’m 100% convinced that (in addition to the effects of more uncontrollable factors such as clinical depression and other intrusive MI in some individuals) it results from a lack of support. If no one ever reads your stuff or says anything good about it, how are you supposed to know if it’s an effective piece of writing or not?

That’s another way of combating writing anxiety: Don’t judge stories in terms of “good” and “bad.” I tend to think of most stories as “good,” even if they’re poorly written. We all wrote crappy stories before we wrote “good” ones, but it was still good that we went through the experience of writing the crappy ones, and old stories still have a certain charm about them.

Rather, I try to look at stories in terms of their effectiveness: did they reach the reader on a personal level? Did I communicate what I wanted to say? If so, then the piece was a success, was effective. If not, it was an ineffective piece, and I’ll just have to work on making sure the next one comes across more clearly.

But nothing, no philosophy, no reminders, no lists can substitute for friends and writing/reading buddies. It’s so important to establish those, or you’re likely to feel isolated and distraught when you post your blood sweat and tears to a brick wall and receive nothing in response for your efforts.

If you’re not writing fanfiction, there is a group called Critters (critters dot org) that I cannot recommend highly enough. They call themselves a “workshop,” but really, they’re a fantastic resource for submitting manuscripts for (gentle, but useful!) critique. There’s a very reasonable, common-sense but quite in-depth etiquette for critting others’ work (people tell you when you do something RIGHT, too!), and you are required to critique a few short stories before you can submit your own, but it’s not hard, and gives you a lot of great practice on both giving and receiving writing assistance.  I used this group for a few years while I was unemployed, and the people there are wonderful and helped me a great deal. Do give it a look if you’re having a hard time finding anyone to read your work. You’ll make some friends!

There was one comment that caught my eye on this note:

@mamakat926:  All good things I need to remember when I’m struggling to write my first fanfic…

I wish you the best of luck! The first one is always hard. And even though you’re writing fanfiction, it’s worth having a look at Critters (critters dot org)! There’s so many resources there to help you get off the ground with your first attempts.

Of course, I have to mention the lovely @lidicores, who translated the entire post into Portuguese. I can’t read a lick of it, but that was awesome, haha!

I needed this right now. I’ve been lacking drive to write since last november. The emptiness is excrucianting. Then a week ago a friend asked me about the story and I suddenly started to think about it again. I even reread some chapters… hopefully I’ll be back soon. Hopefully…

Oh, English is not my first language, so, don’t you worry, I’m not this bad writing in Portuguese. LOL

Having two or more languages under your belt already gives you a leg up on most writers. I hope you’re able to get back into it, soon.

Several people expressed concern about coming back to writing after a long hiatus:

@mxrdins: #i wanna start writing fanfics too :( #i mean long ones in englisn #but am i too late with it #after all im 18 lol and there is a looooong break behind me in writing

@sazula:  I haven't written anything in so long but i want to

@arie-172:  # i need to remind myself of so many of these# idk but it's been so long since i've written something that i had forgotten what it was to feel this way# you know the way in which you kind of second guess everything

@dragontameroutofcharacter:  mmmmm i feel like this is · why i can't write lately tho · there isn't · anything i want to read · like honestly lately i just · want to sleep · i work and i come home and i try to stay awake until evening · i've got books i was so excited to get · that i'm still not reading · haven't even started · i miss writing ·

Just like when you’re first starting out, getting back into it is a question of connection and support, knowing who and what your resources are, and using them. And patience with, and compassion for yourself. You can’t expect the first thing you produce to be as clean as the last thing you wrote before your hiatus, so avoid comparing them. Maybe you want to try a new style or a different perspective, just for fun or to keep the results from being comparable in the first place. I really hope all of you are able to dive back in, though. And 18 is not at all too old! I skipped 3 years of writing between 16 and 19, and it didn’t take me long to get back up to speed.

One person expressed skepticism at the implications of needing/taking writing advice from a tumblr post:

@epherians:  #I DON'T FEEL SURE WHEN I HAVE TO FIND COMFORT IN WRITING ADVICE POSTS…

I understand and even share this sentiment, and of course you’re perfectly welcome to throw all this out the window with no resentment from my end! But...I’m curious, have you ever seen the movie, Adaptation? If not, you really should. Even though it has Nick Cage in it. Or because it does, depending on your persuasion.

Now, to a few slightly more personal responses. The first is more of a question, because I spotted this tag in one of the reblogs:  ableist language ...I wanted to ask, @arathergrimreaper, was this meant to note that I used such language in my post? If so, please let me know where I messed up so I can fix it! And I’m quite sorry if I injured anyone with some bad wording in there.

@theladyjanes used the tag  such powerful words for the post, and that...I dunno, it just hit me hard. Thank you. Powerful is not often a word that is used to describe me or what I say, so I appreciate it, a lot.

@americannoteven said,

#I've reread this about 15 times now #each time feels more and more personal #bc fuck #I should... stop being so hard on myself

Yes, please...if you can manage it, give yourself a break. I hope that the list helped you, and I hope you work through your writing struggles soon. My message and ask boxes are always open, to everyone. =)

@xbean wrote,

#It's taken me a while to get back into it especially when someone you called your best friend read one and made you feel like shit after the

Okay so this messed with me, because...well, because this happened to me several years ago. And I’m sorry, so sorry that that happened to you. It’s a horrible, awful feeling. I hope you can get back into the swing of writing--and if you have to, use spite and resentment to fuel your determination to write, no matter what anyone thinks about it. It’s yours. Do your thing! The best antidote for the shame and hurt is to just keep writing, and when you finally get through the pain, you will have leaned an incredible amount about what parts of your writing are yours and how to discard the pieces you put in there simply to please others. Be strong, you can make it through.

@bamfcoyotetango raged,

FUCK IF I DIDN'T NEED THIS AFTER THE SHIT SHOW THAT GREETED MY LATEST CHAPTER

29 HITS FOR A CHAPTER NEARLY 2K LONG

Another awful feeling, working especially hard on a story or chapter, only to have no one comment, and hardly anyone even look at it.

It likely isn’t that your writing is bad or even ineffectual, though. It could have been a bad time of day to post. Your normal readers just might not have been available. Did you let anyone know that the chapter was up? Try pinging them, if not. In any case, don’t immediately think that silence means it sucked and no one liked it, or that it was too boring for strangers to notice. True is, it’s really hard to make a title that gets people’s attention without designing it as pure clickbait (and if you’ve avoided that nasty habit, good on you!).

I hope your next chapters garner more interest. Out of curiosity, what’s the story about?

@takemeawaymothman said, this last one really like? got to me 

-- and it seems like, while #1 (write what you want to read) was the most popular/cited, #10 (don’t call yourself names) had the strongest reaction...a few tags suggesting it pulled some tears. I’m a little curious as to why that is...is it really so rare for anyone to tell you that you are not stupid? Gosh...I want to give all of you hugs, haha!

(also, cool account name!)

@bastian-casillas-fussballgott (omg, I spelled it!) simply said,  this means a lot to me. This seems like one of those quiet, but profound statements, and I’m happy that this little list was so meaningful. I hope it helps.

@fireferns said,  

#making a bunch of these things stuff i think and believe had helped my writing more than anything

And I wholeheartedly agree that...nothing on that list really does anything to help if you do not internalize it. It has to be something you’re just as willing to tell other people. And it’s not comprehensive! Nor is it for everyone. Many people mentioned that they actually do write better without any outside interference. That’s great--the list was just my list, and I think everyone would probably benefit from making their own, tailoring it to what works best for their writing style.

@infinitelystrangemachinex echoes my feelings:

#I am nervous about writing 100% of the time#It is the most stressful and unforgiving thing I have ever done and ever will do#but I also love it more than anything

Yes, yes! Even writing this, I am constantly thinking about how it all can go wrong, how people might be mad at me for @’ing them, or think I’m creepy for having gone through all the notes and read them...but, I just have this thing I have to get out, you know, and as terrifying and sometimes heartbreaking as it has been, nothing has ever been more rewarding to me, or caused so much positive growth in me, than my writing. And if I don’t constantly defy my anxiety, it takes hold of me and paralyzes me. So, writing is not just important. To me, it’s necessary. I imagine it’s that way for many other people, too.

@pandora15 had a conundrum:

#this is giving me inspiration to work on my clone wars fic

#but like

#i have an exam tomorrow

#so i shouldn't

#ugh but I WANT TO

#this is hard

I have to know...what did you choose?

@thetamburlaine got excited about their AU plotbunny--er, porpoise?:

this actually got me writing right away after a few weeks slump the two first points did it i think anyway for future encouragement free willy au here i come

WOW, I’m glad it helped that much--and also, wow again, a Free Willy AU? I’d never have imagined there would be fanfiction for that movie, but now that I think about it, it kinda makes sense. I’m very curious!

@irresistible-revolution said that  #i might be crying #the blogger had an emotional day y'all  and I really hope that wasn’t a bad thing. I don’t want my post to have made things worse! I hope you’re all right.

And finally, @positivelycurious writes  #needed this as I'm attempting to finally write a memoir -- A memoir, really? That’s awesome, I’ve never met anyone who’s written one, before. Good luck!

Um...okay, I think that’s all. I know that there will be more notes after this date (05/07/2017), but unfortunately it will be very hard for me to separate old from new comments and tags, so I may never be able to get to answering any more. Sorry about that, but please know that I read everything, even tags, and this post has just gone on an unbelievable journey through so many people, if only briefly. I appreciate all the feedback and hope it continues to help others get out of their writer’s block.

I also apologize if this post is in any way out of line or uncomfortable to those I’ve tagged in it. I mulled for a long time on whether or not to do it this way, rather than just sending individual messages to everyone I mention here. Again, if you want to be removed from this post, tell me and I will do so immediately. The reason I made this post is at least partially based on a post I made about two years ago, where I called out as many of my followers as I could to tell them how and why I was thankful for them. Really, that’s what I’m trying to do here, too. Although most of you do not follow me, and honestly, you probably have no reason to start, just being aware of you and your writing troubles, and the fact that I may have helped them just a little bit, makes you all very important to me. There’s so much creativity out there and I hate to see it bottled. Your gratitude and thanks have been a constant stream of comfort during a terribly stressful time in my life, and for that, I really cannot thank you enough.

Even though we’re complete and total strangers, I know you matter, and so do your stories. Do not give up on them. The world is better if they’re written, that they might fall into the hands of someone who needs them.

-Luna

[impatient14]

Comprehensive EMP Analysis and Predictions

Last week I posted a Meta about how we are due to return to CAM tower and I still believe that to be the case, however I’ve changed the details surrounding it. I also posted a popular gun-meta that has people believing that we will be revisiting the aquarium in TFP- and in a way, that is true, but it is not in the way you think.

In this ask and this post I began to postulate how I think things are going to go down, but I am going to expand on that theory in this post as well as collect a few other metas that I’ve posted over the last few weeks. I figured it would be nice to have a EMP theory masterpost for my blog so this will serve as that. It is thorough, so it is quite a long read. 

Let’s start at the beginning: His Last Vow. 

This is the episode I believe EMP begins because all of the signs point to that being the case. There are a few errant details and clues that would suggest that perhaps we have been operating in Sherlock’s mind since TRF, but ultimately, I do not think that is the case. There is such a thing as too long when it comes to EMP, but I do not think one season is that. In fact, I think its bloody brilliant.

In HLV, we have a relatively normal episode, up until Sherlock and John enter CAM’s tower, private office, and ultimately his private flat where the confrontation with Mary begins. 

Before Sherlock’s entrance into CAM’s private flat, we have him deducing whose perfume he is smelling. 

He doesn’t recognize it immediately, saying out loud, “Where do I know it?” 

John answers with, “Mary wears it.,” but Sherlock tells him that it is someone else and disregards Mary. He believes it is Lady Smallwood.

In this post, I point out the parallels of this scene with the one in TAB about Mary’s perfume deduction. In one situation, Sherlock correctly deduces that it is Mary’s perfume and in the other- he does not. I came to the wrong conclusion in that particular post, but the parallel itself exists for a reason. We’ll talk more about that when we get to TAB.

So, Sherlock goes upstairs to CAM’s flat, believing he is about to walk in on Lady Smallwood threatening CAM, but is shocked to find it is Mary. They exchange words, then Mary shoots him. Sherlock loses consciousness in seconds. What we see after that is not what really happened, but it is what Sherlock thinks is likely to happen. He believes John would have gotten to the room too late to save him or see Mary. He then goes into his MP to save his own life, but fails. He flat-lines. The doctors give up. He only returns to life when he realizes that if he dies, he would be leaving John alone with Mary and John doesn’t know Mary shot him. Sherlock comes back to life, but he does not regain consciousness. He begins what he referred to in both TST and LYD. He starts to calculate every possibility by accounting for every detail, effectively predicting the future. The lovely creators of EMP theory, (shout out to @monikakrasnorada @gosherlocked & @the-7-percent-solution ) dubbed this long-term premonition exercise: Extended Mind Palace.

So, there is some debate about whether Sherlock wakes up for a short period of time in the hospital only to consciously begin EMP after Janine leaves the hospital, but I believe he never woke up. Sherlock believes Mary is alive and she definitely is not. More on that later. 

Sherlock has a problem, he just doesn’t know yet what the true problem is. He believes he has to Save John Watson from Mary, knowing that if he left John alone with her and Mary never got caught for shooting Sherlock, that Mary would undoubtedly hurt John in the future. So, Sherlock begins running all the possibilities of how he can save him.

1.) Scenario 1: Tell John the truth, because he knows better than to keep things from him like in TRF, but trust that Mary has a very good reason for shooting him. He wants to see the best in her. He runs through what would happen if he decided to trust Mary and push John to forgive her. He gets rid of CAM to ensure their domestic bliss. He sells himself a fairytale. However, this fairytale ends up sending him to Serbia on a suicide mission and turns Sherlock into a murderer. Better scrap that idea. At the end of the scenario, the longest Sherlock has probably ever run, we get a crack in his subconscious. At this point, he is in so deep, his mind grows less stable. The ‘Miss Me’ broadcast seeps in, distracting Sherlock long enough to make him think there is another puzzle to solve.  

Throughout this scenario, there are inconsistencies that many have found too glaring to ignore. The dramatic feats of an internally bleeding man, the missing six months, the duplicate A.G.R.A USB drives (one John shows Mary and one that he throws into the fire), the super secret laptop with potatoes on it, CAM’s men not patting down SHerlock or John for guns, CAM saying, “It was very difficult to find a pressure point on you Mr. Holmes”, even though we saw him scroll through several at the beginning of the episode, the inconsistencies about CAM’s glasses and MP sequences, and the fact that Rosie was supposed to be born in December but Mary was still very much pregnant when Tarmac hell happened on January 1st. 

What is interesting throughout this scenario that Sherlock runs, is the way he casts John. On a conscious level, he wants John to forgive Mary for the sake of the MP exercise, but unconsciously he has made a lot of John’s actions and dialogue go directly against the forgiveness he is supposed to be feeling. Sherlock doesn’t want John to forgive Mary and its showing through.

Scenario 2.) Explore Mary and John’s relationship more, see if it is worth saving in the first place and try to better understand where the ‘Miss Me’ broadcast in his MP came from. We begin TAB (after the introductions are made) with Sherlock once against deducing a woman’s perfume. However, this time, he deduces its Mary’s perfume correctly and makes a jab at John’s marriage while he does it. There is a Watson domestic and Sherlock says quiets them then says, “The stage is set, the curtain rises, we are ready to begin.” This line is to symbolize the beginning of the new puzzle, not the one Sherlock is already trying to solve. He remembers the flashback of Moriarty’s broadcast and believes it to be worth looking into. He didn’t place it in his MP, and yet it made its way inside. He has to know how. In TAB he goes in an out of a deeper part of his MP, the mystery of the broadcast pulling him back under even when he regains focus enough to realize he needs to get back to his original plan. The “Miss Me” phrase and then later the note is a trigger for this. However, once he realizes none of it is real and that Moriarty is in fact dead, he stays in MP long enough to make a very important deduction about his relationship with John. There is always two of them. 

This episode is the basis for all of Series Four. I break that down in detail here.

In HLV, John was right behind Sherlock when Sherlock ran off to confront Mary. He wasn’t staying with Janine anymore. He leaves his post with her, just as he left his post in TAB. Sherlock deduces, because there are always two of them, that John would have walked into the room soon after he did, just in enough time to see Mary shoot him. In TAB, there are two sets of glass windows breaking. One that is unexplained (until the deduction sequence), and one Sherlock can account for. Sherlock realizes he remembers a second gun going off. He deduces that John shot Mary. Killed her. 

Scenario 3.) Sherlock realizes that John killed Mary and he also deduces that John would not kill CAM, as he was not an immediate threat. SHerlock knows he can’t outright kill CAM to protect John from CAM’s blackmail, because he’d end up going to jail or Serbia. So, in TST Sherlock runs a scenario to create John an alibi. Something so convincing that CAM’s word would be useless.  He uses old cases as a backdrop for how he would create an alibi for John, just as he used an old case to deduce that Moriarty wasn’t responsible for the unconscious ‘Miss Me’ inserted into his MP. It is no longer as important because John is once again at the forefront of his mind. He needs to figure out how to save him from CAM’s wrath. He creates a scenario that paints John and Mary as a happy and loving couple, adding the necessary fairy tale flair that we expect from him. He  knows that CAM will tell about Mary’s past, so Sherlock creates a new identity for her, something redeemable, something Mycroft could easily fake, so that when her past catches up to her eventually, it looks like John would have still been devastated by her loss because they were such a happy couple. He once again wrongly deduces the baddie is Lady Smallwood, but this time he casts someone else to take Mary’s place because Mary is a good person in this reality. The fact that Sherlock introduced the issue of who the baddie was and didn’t remember that it wasn’t Lady Smallwood, is a sign that his mind is breaking down further.  The fact that he labeled the entire thing “Amo” is his conscious mind trying to get him to focus.

However, as I’m sure you noticed, Sherlock once again cast John in a role his subconscious knew John didn’t want to play. He just couldn’t help himself. Down deep, Sherlock knows that Mary isn’t what John wants or needs, but he doesn’t want to admit it to himself. The cheating arc we saw was Sherlock’s mind not cooperating with the process. It was rebelling against him.  Its yet another sign that, at this point, Sherlock’s mind is fracturing. He is in far too deep. Pieces of his mind that were once forgotten or deleted are making themselves known again. There are cracks in the foundation of his MP. The ‘Miss me’ DVD resurfaces, but this time its Mary, someone he has discounted as being the reason for the crack in his MP, but she does remind him of it. Once again, “Miss Me’ is a trigger. He decides to stay in his MP to figure out what this his subconscious mind is trying to tell him and also goes to MP therapy to think about what he should do about John. Now that Sherlock has taken care of the most important issue, making sure John is safe, he can run a scenario as to how he should handle the fact that John just killed his wife for him, an emotional event that Sherlock isn’t exactly prepared to deal with without careful thought. I also suspect that Sherlock may not be able to leave his MP even if he wanted to- he’s been triggered by the note “John” gives him, which undoubtedly says ‘Miss Me’ on it. He’s being forced a level deeper. This is representative of this text, “The curtain rises. The last act. Its not over.” The phrase is referencing TAB- the beginning of the second puzzle. Sherlock here knows he has already solved the case as to how to give John a good alibi, it just has to run through. Now he is forced to think about the other puzzle again. The crack in his subconscious holds him hostage until he figures out what it means. 

Throughout this episode there are glaringly obvious clues that things are not right. I summarize that here.

Scenario 4.)  In The Lying detective, we find Sherlock completely off his rocker, just like I anticipated because that was where we left off in TAB. Sherlock now believes that he must be prepared for the emotional fallout of John choosing to kill his wife for Sherlock. Sherlock anticipates that this will be an extremely upsetting and devastating experience for John. He makes no time for the baby that was in TST because there never was a baby and there is no need to involve it here in this deduction. He does feel guilty about the fact that none of this would have happened if he had just been honest with John about his feelings or never left him in TRF, you can see that coming through pretty clearly. Sherlock is punishing himself. He remembers John in ASiP, berates himself for not being more careful about John’s suicidal state then. He imagines John talking to Mary about Sherlock because Mary comes to represent their relationships potential. With her gone, they could finally be together. If you’re wondering why she became team Johnlock, its because SHerlock cast her as the physical embodiment of everything he should have done right the first time with John and everything he wants to do right in the future. She is also there to convince John of this, because I think Sherlock still believes John may need some convincing. (He also probably picked up on this- sad face) Sherlock runs through how he might do that. However, once again, SHerlock’s subconscious takes over Mary’s characterization and while painting her one way, his mind makes it so that she is ultimately responsible for all his strife. She set him up to fail. 

This is also deepest Sherlock has ever been, this is his forth scenario. Most people give up after three, but he’s gone one further. He is falling further into the pit and cant get himself out again. He needs John…but there is something pulling at him, haunting him. His MP is breaking down, he cant keep scenes right, he can’t keep facts straight, he’s remembering things he deleted. Sherlock’s mind is breaking down, allowing that which he doesn’t even know to protect himself from inside. From this crack, a trickle becomes a flood and Sherlock is bombarded with memories of his sister. A sister he didn’t know he had but his broken mind has supplied for him. We know Euros didn’t really shoot John because John is walking around fine in The Final Problem. No, that was Sherlock being his dramatic self, realizing the thing that has held him back from declaring and embracing his feelings for John, is the same thing that made him put on the sociopath mask in the first place. Whatever happened with his sister, she is why Sherlock is the way he is and she is the reason he isn’t with John. She put their relationship in danger. He realizes this after he picks up the paper “Faith” left in his flat. Triggered again, he goes one level even deeper.

There are a lot of signs in this episode that things aren’t as they seem. I wont go through all of them, but you can check my #EMP tag for some quality stuff. A quick list: phone booths every ten feet, walls changing color, skull hell 2.0, no mention of ELla, no mention of the note John supposedly gave SHerlock, ASiP parallels, and a host of other tom-foolery. There are bucket loads of evidence that TLD is not real.

So at this point, we are at conjecture, but seeing as how we still have half an hour of TAB to account for, I can make some guesses. There will be a long deduction sequence where SHerlock realizes he is dreaming because Euros comes to him as Moriarty did in TAB. There will be imagery of John in the well (the perfect place for Sherlock to stick him in his repressed mind- surrounded by water, i.e. gay love, but completely out of reach), having been placed there by Euros and she will taunt Sherlock about his relationship with John. Eventually, Sherlock will awaken, most likely because he remembers that John still needs him. When he wakes up, there will be a funny bit where John and Mycroft have essentially already done everything Sherlock was going to tell them to do about Mary and we get a nice role reversal from TLD. (There will be cute smiles between John and Sherlock.) With Mary out of the way and John safe from CAM, Sherlock and John will confront Mycroft about Euros. There will be a lot of backstory here and there is only so much I can guess. Due to the fact that John is paralleled to a dog often, Im going to make a stab and say that Redbeard was Sherlock’s replacement for Euros in his MP when he deleted or was forced to delete her. Other than that, I don’t have a lot to go on.

At some point though, we will get a waterfall scene parallel just as we got an Irene Adler/greenhouse sex talk parallel. However this time they will not be constrained by the times and our boys will be truly honest with each other. Love confession and likely a kiss will follow and our boys will end the episode happy and in love at Baker’s Street.

EDIT TO ADD:In a private chat @thisbetterbeworthit reminded me of some really important details that I left out here. The final problem! No, not The Final Problem the episode, but the final problem as given to Sherlock by Moriarty. I talk how the final problem is Staying Alive here and here, but my friend here has some excellent additional commentary.

How exactly did Sherlock stay alive in TRF and then again in HLV? No, I’m not talking about the exact details I’m talking about what made him want to and how did he find the strength? The answer to both of these questions is John. We know that the final problem is Staying Alive, and we know that John is the key to saving Sherlock, now it just comes down to Sherlock admitting this is what happened to him.

My new friend also pointed out that in TAB John says this,

Which would imply that there will be a scene where Sherlock will need to figure out how to wake up in TFP and this will happen after what would resemble the waterfall scene in TAB. I don’t think they will do a true confession here, because they’d want to save that for the real world, but I think they could do something that makes it obvious to the audience but not yet to John.

I think what a lot of people have trouble swallowing about EMP is how long it is taking to get Sherlock through it. However, if it is done this way, I honestly think this could be considered groundbreaking. Doing a dream sequence this way and doing it correctly could honestly be the finest bit of television I’ve ever seen. I mean, obviously, I like my own theory but I recognize that things may not be exactly like this. But even if this is just close- I think it could be amazing. I don’t care that it was an entire season, because we saw Sherlock grow and figure things out and we saw it happen in a way that allowed him to account for other peoples reactions because as he said in TLD, he knows them so well he can predict their behavior in scenarios he devises. We can take at face value that a lot of what we saw is what would have happened if Sherlock actually went through those scenarios for real. I love that we got to see two realities, I really do.

Hopefully, if I’m right, everyone else will do.

Check out this post for more information on the triggering process, courtesy of @deducingbbcsherlock

@monikakrasnorada @isitandwonder @ebaeschnbliah @gosherlocked @tjlcisthenewsexy @may-shepard @loudest-subtext-in-tv @yan-yae @the-7-percent-solution @loveismyrevolution

[kathydsalters31]

Help! My Dog Hates My Husband!

I get this inquiry more often than you would in fact believe!

As well as I have to be straightforward it isn’t always the “other half” sometimes it is the “spouse” or even the kids or everybody “else” in the household. Often I assume it is the husband or the man because they have a tendency to be somewhat much less nurturing than the female in the relationship, however it definitely works both means!

The issue is that these dogs can mess up partnerships.

They can also end up in shelters or die as a result of their violent relationships.

You see, THEY are the abusers.

They often being in the lap of their “selected” (person) and also roar, hackle, and also endanger to bite anybody that may trespass or get anywhere near.

Visualize having a child or an “X” sitting on your lap and also anytime an additional individual came near hug you, rest beside you, or speak to you (consisting of various other household) they blinked a dagger. Now picture they went after the person away with the switchblade, or even gently reduce them.

I believe that would be an issue, don’t you?

And also, most individuals would certainly never ever approve this actions from one more person or youngster right? The authorities would be called and the person removed and certainly prosecuted.

Proprietors placed up with this from their cherished animals.

Both the one being “secured” or possessed as well as the person or people being mistreated imitate it is no big deal when it originates from something with hair as well as teeth (rather than a dagger).

You see, usually the person whose lap it is assumed the pet dog is “shielding them” or the various other person thinks the canine is “shielding the partner” yet really the pet dog is guarding what he considers a “source” or possessing the person (not almost as fairytale-like as individuals like to believe) for more on that go here. Step One: Stop Making Excuses

This leads straight right into action one, which is to quit vindicating the actions, making justifications or enabling the dog.

Beginning seeing him of what he is; an abuser! Bear in mind the analogy with the knife …

You can not make a true change if you’re empowering, allowing, and also making reasons for the actions.

And, if you do not make real adjustment you might shed your household as well as your pet dog could lose his life.

What will occur if the wrong individual or youngster techniques you and this canine? Bites typically bring about assisted suicide!

Also if you aren’t making this difficult decision to transform for your family; make it for your pet that might die if you allow this actions to continue.

Tip Two: Take Away Privileges

Life and also services are an opportunity, treat them therefore.

If your kid takes or damages a rule benefit of you and your partner what happens?

I hope that you say he/she sheds an advantage.

The very same regulations need to put on dogs, particularly those that are having aggressiveness problems.

And, yes, threatening to attack your family and also partner is aggressiveness! Welcome it and call it what it is(this goes back to enabling as well as not making excuses). If your next-door neighbor’s pet was trying to bite YOU, you would

call it aggressiveness, yes? If the hostility is extreme and anybody hesitates of being severely attacked or there are little ones included a veterinary behaviorist should be involved. For more on that particular

visit this site Offered That You Are Not Worried About A Bite, Continue Reading:

Aggressive pet dogs, those who are aiming to possess you or intimidating a person that comes close to must NOT be allowed on furnishings.

Getting on the bed is an opportunity.

Being on the couch is an opportunity.

Being in your lap is a benefit!

And, pets that bite, roar, hackle, bark or endanger people should not get these privileges. Duration! I am all for well behaved canines to be on the furniture, but I will certainly be the initial to claim that pet dogs with hostility problems need to never get this benefit; it provides “little male or little pet dog disorder” and also plays into their suggestion that they ought to rule your home or the world.

Tip Three: The Person Being “Possessed” Needs To Separate Themselves

The person that these pets idolize or “possess” must withdraw in their lives!

This is possibly one of the hardest points for every person involved.

For one reason or another, people who are relatively the “apple of these dogs’ eyes” have a really difficult time giving that up.

Yet it is important!

He or she requires to step back, and the other individual (the individual that has actually been bullied) needs to tip up.

The loved person requires to rarely interact with the pet whatsoever, and the despised person needs to be in charge of all points crucial as well as all points enjoyable.

The Dog Must Be Forced To Interact & & Depend On The Person They Dislike

It would certainly stand to factor if you needed to see the exact same individuals everyday, or needed to cope with them opportunities are they would certainly expand on you over time. Also if you really did not like them, you would certainly locate something to such as concerning them (alright, not always however mostly).

Sometimes dogs bond to ONE PERSON and also they feel like they do not require any individual or anything else in their lives.

We should persuade them that they are incorrect.

The individual who is hated should feed the canine, they have to walk the pet,

they ought to try to take part in have fun with the canine; all while the various other person mainly neglects the pet. You see even if the various other individual does every one of these points as well as the person the dog likes still cuddles as well as likes on the pet dog

, the pet can still see no genuine requirement for the other person. In order for an actual bond to take place in between the when loathed person and also the pet, the person the pet apparently possesses or loves has to type of break connections.

It does not imply FOREVER yet the individual needs to disregard the dog nearly entirely.

Regard The Need For A Bond To Form– Let It Happen

Allow me suggest for you.

I used to educate Service Dogs.

I worked for a number of organizations, but one particular company had a very high success rate and also I believe I recognize why.

This organization did not allow any of the various other family member to communicate with the brand-new Service Dog, truly in any way (unless the impaired person required it for upkeep like bathrooms, nail trims, etc.), for at the very least a month.

You see, if the pet went home with their brand-new partner and discovered that the “mother” constantly fed, cuddled, and enjoyed on the dog while never ever giving commands, who would the canine bond to, right? The handicapped partner was requiring job and also initiative from the canine for deals with and love. They were making the pet dog work.

By not allowing the various other family members to interact with the pet, the dog was provided the opportunity to bond to the individual that would certainly be their forever companion as well as the household was given time to recognize the need for this bond as well as regard it.

I believe the very same should occur with these controlling pets.

They have to find out to NEED the other person in the house or partnership.

They require to be fed, they need to be sprinkled, they require to be walked and also they need to be trained and also engaged with; if this is only coming from one source it stands to factor that the person now doing this would certainly become more crucial.

Fortunately for those of you that may be panicking that YOUR pet dog will certainly never ever love YOU again is that this is a foolish thought. Of course he will. As soon as you go back in and also do the periodic cuddle after he has bonded with the various other individual, he will still love you! He will still undoubtedly be YOUR pet dog but in order to be a happy family he needs to find out to enjoy other people!

Step Four: Train The Dog

I state it in all my short articles but it is true!

Obedience is also important.

It is essential to be able to control these pets.

It is important to be able to give them regulates that they will follow.

You should not have to feel that you are at the whim of a pet dog!

If the pet dog shows hostility, you should have the ability to provide a command and also have the pet dog conform!

I really feel that the individual who is done not like must take a class with the dog. Not the old fashioned: “Yank Them and also Make Them” course however a fun favorable reinforcement course. A class where they can have fun as well as develop a bond, will certainly change their relationship!

Due to the fact that good obedience ought to be enjoyable and also rewarding for every person included!

source http://www.luckydogsolutions.com/help-my-dog-hates-my-husband/ from Lucky Dog Solutions https://luckydogsolutions.blogspot.com/2020/07/help-my-dog-hates-my-husband.html

[barryswamsleyaz]

Help! My Dog Hates My Husband!

I get this inquiry more often than you would in fact believe!

As well as I have to be straightforward it isn’t always the “other half” sometimes it is the “spouse” or even the kids or everybody “else” in the household. Often I assume it is the husband or the man because they have a tendency to be somewhat much less nurturing than the female in the relationship, however it definitely works both means!

The issue is that these dogs can mess up partnerships.

They can also end up in shelters or die as a result of their violent relationships.

You see, THEY are the abusers.

They often being in the lap of their “selected” (person) and also roar, hackle, and also endanger to bite anybody that may trespass or get anywhere near.

Visualize having a child or an “X” sitting on your lap and also anytime an additional individual came near hug you, rest beside you, or speak to you (consisting of various other household) they blinked a dagger. Now picture they went after the person away with the switchblade, or even gently reduce them.

I believe that would be an issue, don’t you?

And also, most individuals would certainly never ever approve this actions from one more person or youngster right? The authorities would be called and the person removed and certainly prosecuted.

Proprietors placed up with this from their cherished animals.

Both the one being “secured” or possessed as well as the person or people being mistreated imitate it is no big deal when it originates from something with hair as well as teeth (rather than a dagger).

You see, usually the person whose lap it is assumed the pet dog is “shielding them” or the various other person thinks the canine is “shielding the partner” yet really the pet dog is guarding what he considers a “source” or possessing the person (not almost as fairytale-like as individuals like to believe) for more on that go here. Step One: Stop Making Excuses

This leads straight right into action one, which is to quit vindicating the actions, making justifications or enabling the dog.

Beginning seeing him of what he is; an abuser! Bear in mind the analogy with the knife …

You can not make a true change if you’re empowering, allowing, and also making reasons for the actions.

And, if you do not make real adjustment you might shed your household as well as your pet dog could lose his life.

What will occur if the wrong individual or youngster techniques you and this canine? Bites typically bring about assisted suicide!

Also if you aren’t making this difficult decision to transform for your family; make it for your pet that might die if you allow this actions to continue.

Tip Two: Take Away Privileges

Life and also services are an opportunity, treat them therefore.

If your kid takes or damages a rule benefit of you and your partner what happens?

I hope that you say he/she sheds an advantage.

The very same regulations need to put on dogs, particularly those that are having aggressiveness problems.

And, yes, threatening to attack your family and also partner is aggressiveness! Welcome it and call it what it is(this goes back to enabling as well as not making excuses). If your next-door neighbor’s pet was trying to bite YOU, you would

call it aggressiveness, yes? If the hostility is extreme and anybody hesitates of being severely attacked or there are little ones included a veterinary behaviorist should be involved. For more on that particular visit this site Offered That You Are Not Worried About A Bite, Continue Reading:

Aggressive pet dogs, those who are aiming to possess you or intimidating a person that comes close to must NOT be allowed on furnishings.

Getting on the bed is an opportunity.

Being on the couch is an opportunity.

Being in your lap is a benefit!

And, pets that bite, roar, hackle, bark or endanger people should not get these privileges. Duration! I am all for well behaved canines to be on the furniture, but I will certainly be the initial to claim that pet dogs with hostility problems need to never get this benefit; it provides “little male or little pet dog disorder” and also plays into their suggestion that they ought to rule your home or the world.

Tip Three: The Person Being “Possessed” Needs To Separate Themselves

The person that these pets idolize or “possess” must withdraw in their lives!

This is possibly one of the hardest points for every person involved.

For one reason or another, people who are relatively the “apple of these dogs’ eyes” have a really difficult time giving that up.

Yet it is important!

He or she requires to step back, and the other individual (the individual that has actually been bullied) needs to tip up.

The loved person requires to rarely interact with the pet whatsoever, and the despised person needs to be in charge of all points crucial as well as all points enjoyable.

The Dog Must Be Forced To Interact & & Depend On The Person They Dislike

It would certainly stand to factor if you needed to see the exact same individuals everyday, or needed to cope with them opportunities are they would certainly expand on you over time. Also if you really did not like them, you would certainly locate something to such as concerning them (alright, not always however mostly).

Sometimes dogs bond to ONE PERSON and also they feel like they do not require any individual or anything else in their lives.

We should persuade them that they are incorrect.

The individual who is hated should feed the canine, they have to walk the pet,

they ought to try to take part in have fun with the canine; all while the various other person mainly neglects the pet. You see even if the various other individual does every one of these points as well as the person the dog likes still cuddles as well as likes on the pet dog

, the pet can still see no genuine requirement for the other person. In order for an actual bond to take place in between the when loathed person and also the pet, the person the pet apparently possesses or loves has to type of break connections.

It does not imply FOREVER yet the individual needs to disregard the dog nearly entirely.

Regard The Need For A Bond To Form– Let It Happen

Allow me suggest for you.

I used to educate Service Dogs.

I worked for a number of organizations, but one particular company had a very high success rate and also I believe I recognize why.

This organization did not allow any of the various other family member to communicate with the brand-new Service Dog, truly in any way (unless the impaired person required it for upkeep like bathrooms, nail trims, etc.), for at the very least a month.

You see, if the pet went home with their brand-new partner and discovered that the “mother” constantly fed, cuddled, and enjoyed on the dog while never ever giving commands, who would the canine bond to, right? The handicapped partner was requiring job and also initiative from the canine for deals with and love. They were making the pet dog work.

By not allowing the various other family members to interact with the pet, the dog was provided the opportunity to bond to the individual that would certainly be their forever companion as well as the household was given time to recognize the need for this bond as well as regard it.

I believe the very same should occur with these controlling pets.

They have to find out to NEED the other person in the house or partnership.

They require to be fed, they need to be sprinkled, they require to be walked and also they need to be trained and also engaged with; if this is only coming from one source it stands to factor that the person now doing this would certainly become more crucial.

Fortunately for those of you that may be panicking that YOUR pet dog will certainly never ever love YOU again is that this is a foolish thought. Of course he will. As soon as you go back in and also do the periodic cuddle after he has bonded with the various other individual, he will still love you! He will still undoubtedly be YOUR pet dog but in order to be a happy family he needs to find out to enjoy other people!

Step Four: Train The Dog

I state it in all my short articles but it is true!

Obedience is also important.

It is essential to be able to control these pets.

It is important to be able to give them regulates that they will follow.

You should not have to feel that you are at the whim of a pet dog!

If the pet dog shows hostility, you should have the ability to provide a command and also have the pet dog conform!

I really feel that the individual who is done not like must take a class with the dog. Not the old fashioned: “Yank Them and also Make Them” course however a fun favorable reinforcement course. A class where they can have fun as well as develop a bond, will certainly change their relationship!

Due to the fact that good obedience ought to be enjoyable and also rewarding for every person included!

from Lucky Dog Solutions http://www.luckydogsolutions.com/help-my-dog-hates-my-husband/

from Lucky Dog Solutions https://luckydogsolutions.tumblr.com/post/624918222587691008

[bichaelmaker]

... about firearms.

In my most basic thoughts and feelings, I know that the current state of things is in part due to the lack of accurate information or the very disregard for accurate information. To educate myself I have gathered information from various sources so I can understand the issue and generate more accurate opinions. Following is some of the information I have gathered.

1. Calling an AR-15 an assault rifle or an assault weapon may be incorrect. Calling an AR-15 an automatic rifle is incorrect. We need to include additional information when talking about classes of firearms. The mainstream media calls an AR-15 an assault rifle or an assault weapon (or even an automatic rifle) because it is good for ratings and column inches. Just because it looks like a military assault weapon and it sounds like a military assault weapon and it is used like a military assault weapon doesn't mean it is a military assault weapon.

2. The AR in AR-15 does not stand for assault rifle or automatic rifle. The AR in AR-15 stands for Armalite Rifle after the manufacturer who developed the AR platform in the 1950s. The AR-15 platform rifles are among the most popular firearms being sold and they are today's modern sporting rifle. Any and all firearms built on the AR-15 platform are commonly referred to as an AR-15 but may have many names depending on the manufacturer. M&P15, SR15, M15, and MMR are a few of the names. They are all AR-15 firearms in the sense that Ram 1500s, Ford F-150s, and Chevrolet 1500s are all half-ton pickup trucks.

3. The AR-15 platform of weapons is a semi-automatic weapon: one trigger pull fires one bullet, ejects the spent cartridge, and loads a new bullet into the firing chamber. Some weapons have a burst firing mode: each trigger pull releases a burst of three bullets. An automatic weapon has a continuous firing mechanism which will continue to fire bullets as long as the trigger is held or the bullets run out.

4. There is no definite nationwide definition for "assault weapon" or "assault rifle". The gun lobby contends that the term(s) was/were invented by the anti gun lobby in the 80's in order to try to ban semi-automatic firearms. Generally the firearms industry has a traditional definition that an assault weapon/rifle is a weapon that has select fire capabilities and can fire in automatic mode. The federal government usually refers to a military-style weapon capable of firing multiple rounds, either semi-automatic or a fully automatic firearm. Individual states or localities may have different definitions. For purposes of continuity of anything I post here or elsewhere and for discussion purposes, I hold the traditional definition of an assault weapon/rifle/firearm as accurate: It has select fire capabilities and can fire in automatic mode. An automatic mode assault weapon/rifle/firearm is generally known as a machine gun.

5. Machine guns (military style fully automatic weapons) can be purchased in the United Stated by common citizens. Yes. They can. You can't simply go into a gun store and do it because they most likely don't have them and there are significant rules and regulations in order to do so. Those rules and regulations in general are as follows:

A. You need to be eligible to possess firearms in general. B. You must live in a state where NFA items are permitted and machine guns, specifically, are legal to possess. C. The machine gun you wish to acquire must have been manufactured on or before May 19, 1986.  That is the cutoff date for entries to be made in the NFRTR (National Firearms Registration and Transfer Record), the registry of all NFA items in the United States including machine guns. D. You must locate a Class III dealer (FFL01+SOT) that sells or can transfer in the machine gun you wish to acquire in your state of residence. E. You must purchase the machine gun upfront prior to transfer and have it shipped to your Class III dealer.  For a full-auto M16, this will be anywhere from $12,000 and up.  Typical prices for an M16 hover around $14,000 to $16,000. F. Once purchased and with your dealer, the dealer will fill out the Form 4 application on your behalf to submission to the BATFE and collect your $200 NFA transfer stamp tax. G. The application will be submitted.  Now you wait 8+ months for the full FBI background check and BATFE processing to complete. H. Once the Form 4 is processed, it will be returned to the dealer along with the tax stamp which is part of your paperwork.  You can then take possession of your military grade fully automatic firearm and take it home. I. The tax stamp must be kept with the firearm it belongs to at all times!  The tax stamp is your only affirmative defense to prove you are not in possession of an illegal machine gun.  The tax stamp is proof you paid the transfer tax and legally transferred the machine gun.  Ranges that allow Class III will want to see the stamp.  If you get pulled over and the gun is discovered/inspected, law enforcement will definitely want to see it too.  You may be required to present the firearm for inspection on demand by the BATFE. J. You may not transport the fully automatic firearm across state lines for any purpose without prior consent of the Federal government.  You must request this in advance and provide details on where the firearm is going, when you are leaving and when it will return to its registered location of residence. K. You cannot leave the presence of your fully automatic firearm.  If someone else is shooting it, you must be with it, legally speaking.  The one exception to this is if you have formed a legal trust for the purpose of possessing the firearm, in which case all beneficiaries of the trust (usually family or employees) may have access to the firearm.

The short answer is that yes, a citizen can buy an automatic military style weapon, but it is time consuming, difficult, and highly regulated, and the firearm is relatively expensive and vintage.

6. The Second Amendment to the Constitution of the United states is 27 words long. Four of those words are capitalized: A, Militia, State, Arms. It is my feeling and I assume the original writers of the amendment, the founders of our country, that A Militia is necessary to ensure a free State and the government cannot prevent keeping and bearing Arms for that purpose. The intent is to protect the free State from a tyrannical federal government. Yes, the free State is made up of people, but it is the State of free citizens who forms the Milita. The federal government has no business regulating the bearing and/or keeping of firearms.

I have read through a lot of information and summarized the major points above. I have drawn the some conclusions and have formed my own opinion regarding the subject of firearms in the United States of America.

When our country was founded, firearms were a way of life and they were a necessity for survival. Times have changed and that is not necessarily the case any longer. For a person who is a hunter, sportsman, or target shooter, I don't understand the need to own a weapon capable of firing up to 90 rounds per minute. It frankly does not sound very sporting to me. However, I do understand the joy and comfort of collecting and owning something you care about as well as the satisfaction of being in control of a serious and significant piece of hardware. I do not own a modern semi-automatic firearm but I am familiar with them and am able to handle one safely. I do not own a sidearm and do not have a license to carry concealed but I am not averse to doing so maybe in the future. If there is a time when WE need to stand against tyranny then I want to be behind someone with adequate weaponry for defense and will gladly join in bearing arms against those who want to harm me or my family. I believe we need comprehensive background checks in order to buy firearms.

Guns are not going away and I don't want them to go away. I do not believe that an across the board ban on firearms will prevent gun violence. We need to learn to be able to live with them.

(There are many other issues that are related to and contribute to the school shootings we see on a regular basis. I intend to research, summarize, disseminate, and form my own opinion on those issues in separate posts.)

[fadingfartconnoisseur]

The Secret Sauce Behind Scott’s Cheap Flights

“Have you heard of Scott’s Cheap Flights? Should I use them?”

When friends and family far removed from the travel hacking/cheap flights space ask me about a website, I know its mainstream. While there are many good deal websites out there (The Flight Deal, Secret Flying, and Holiday Pirates are three of my favorites), Scott’s Cheap Flights seems to have broken through where others have not. Over 1 million people get his daily flight deals email. I’m a big fan of the website and their ability to often break airfare deals (I used one of their alerts to fly to South Africa). It turns out Scott is a fan of my website too so we sat down for an interview where I got him to spill the secret behind his website:

Nomadic Matt: Tell everyone about yourself. How did you get into this? Scott: When I graduated college in 2009, I knew two things: (1) I wanted to travel the world and (2) I was never going to be wealthy. So if I wasn’t going to let #2 prevent #1, I knew I would have to figure out some creative ways to travel without spending my life savings. I began reading up on flight pricing economics, spending hours on various flight search engines, and learning various airfare patterns. Before long, I found an online community of fellow travel hackers and cheap-flight aficionados who enjoy not just travel but also the thrill of getting a great deal on flights.

Where did the idea of this website come from? Scott’s Cheap Flights has a weird origin story. In 2013, I got the best deal of my life: nonstop from NYC to Milan for $130 round-trip. Milan hadn’t even been on my radar as a place to visit, but for $130 round-trip, there’s no way I wouldn’t go. And it turned out to be amazing! I went skiing in the Alps, caught an AC Milan match, hiked Cinque Terre, hung out on Lake Como. It was divine.

When I got back, word spread among friends and coworkers about the deal I got, and dozens of them began asking me to let them know next time I found a fare like that so they could get in on it, too. So rather than try to remember to tell George and Esther and Aviva when a great deal popped up, I decided to start a simple little email list instead so I could alert everyone at once. Scott’s Cheap Flights was born.

For the first 18 months, though, it was just a little, fun hobby I did for my friends. It wasn’t until August 2015 that it had generated enough organic growth that it made sense to think about turning it into a business.

You’ve sort of blown up in the last year or so. What do you think have been the two biggest factors into your success? First off, thanks! We just hit one million subscribers — still hard for me to believe. The credit goes to two primary factors:

First, there’s an incredible team who runs Scott’s Cheap Flights. It’s not just me; we’re up to 25 folks on the team now. We have a team of flight searchers finding great deals around the world, and also a team of amazing customer support folks. On an average day we get well over 700 emails in our inbox, and most people get a response within a few hours, if not a few minutes. I think this is a major reason why more than 50% of people who sign up for Scott’s Cheap Flights found out about it via word of mouth.

Second, the startup itself had very serendipitous timing. Right around when Scott’s Cheap Flights became a business, international flight prices began to plummet, fueled by low oil prices and a bevy of new low-cost airlines like Norwegian and WOW jumping into the transatlantic market. Whereas in 2010 it was rare to see flights from the US to Europe under $900 round-trip, in 2015 (and through to today), it’s relatively common to see those same flights around $400 round-trip, if not less. We can’t force airlines to offer cheap flights, but we’ve been there to ride the wave these past few years and help subscribers pay half of what they used to to travel abroad.

Were there any media hits or high-profile features that really changed your trajectory? I remember hearing about you a few years ago, but now it seems everyone I know, even outside of travel, has heard of your newsletter. There was one in particular: a Business Insider article and I were taking in the summer of 2015. It helped take Scott’s Cheap Flights from a hobby to a full-fledged business by bringing in thousands of new subscribers. We’ve had hundreds of media hits in the two years since then, but as we’ve grown, each individual one has necessarily had a diminishing impact. Perhaps a Nomadic Matt interview will give a big new boost though!

How does your website work? How do you find these deals? Do you have team of people searching for deals? Is it an algorithm? One thing that surprises a lot of people is that we don’t have a bunch of computers running secret algorithms to find cheap flights. All of our fares are searched by hand. The secret sauce is hard work. Airfare changes by the hour, if not by the minute, and the best deals don’t tend to last very long, so finding out about them early is the key to booking them before they’re gone. Most people don’t want to spend all their free time searching for cheap flights; we love doing it and being subscribers’ early detection radar.

Another way to think of it is like this: Almost everybody is capable of cooking dinner at home, but that doesn’t prevent the existence of the restaurant industry. People don’t always want to put in the time and effort required to find cheap flights, so we’re happy to do it for them.

That seems super time-consuming. How do you decide what and where to search? Do you just randomly plugging in places and dates, or is there more of a method to the madness? There’s a bit of proprietary knowledge that goes into the process, but 95% of it is just the sheer legwork, day after day, searching various routes and seeing what pops up. There’s more of a skill aspect to the process than I would’ve guessed four years ago, whether that’s remembering certain esoteric routes that periodically go on sale, or knowing that a fare war out of one city likely indicates fare drops in other similar cities. For the most part, though, it’s just a small team of incredibly talented and dedicated flight searchers scouring through fares all day every day, disregarding 99% of them and skimming off the juiciest 1% to send to subscribers.

What are some of the biggest trends in flights you are seeing right now? In the last year or two we’ve seen far cheaper flights than in the past to India (before: $1,000+, now: ~$600), Italy and the Netherlands (before: $900, now: ~$350), and Hawaii (before: $800, now $350 from the West Coast, $550 from further east).

Unfortunately (though perhaps not surprisingly), we’re seeing a continued drought of cheap flights to popular destinations like Brazil, Argentina, Australia, and New Zealand.

In addition, we’re seeing a continued unbundling of airfare: more low-cost carriers and “budget economy” fares offered by full-service carriers that don’t include checked bags, seat selection, or meals.

Do you use your own deals or are you more of a points/miles-in-business-class kind of guy? Sure do! I’m personally not a business-class type of guy. I’m still young enough to be fine in coach for as long and far as a plane can fly. Ask me again in 20 years — but in general I’m uncomfortable being doted on in the premium section of the plane. I’m a simple guy. I don’t need much.

Will we see more business-class deals? Don’t wanna overpromise and underdeliver. Stay tuned!

Do you plan to go global and feature more non-US deals? Yes! We have a team of flight searchers finding cheap fares departing not just from the US but also Canada, the UK and mainland Europe, Australia and New Zealand, the Caribbean, Latin America, Asia, and the Middle East (Sub-Saharan Africa coming soon!).

You get all these flight deals, but tell me some of your favorite travel experiences. What’s one of your favorite recent travel memories? Last year my wife and I took a trip to Belarus to visit her family. One of the days we took a trip to a “park” that consisted of a big open field filled with old discarded and retired Cold War–era Soviet weapons. Think machine guns, missiles, and tanks.

Mostly people would walk around and pose for selfies in front of these massive weapons, but at one point I saw a small group of tourists from Asia hand a park operator some cash and then start to climb on top of a WWII-era tank. I thought they were just going to take photos, but a few seconds later the tank started lurching forward before hitting a cool 25 miles per hour, zipping around the park. These tourists were having the time of their effing lives, and it gave me so much joy just to watch them.

Your deal website is great of course, but what about just everyday flights people need to see Grandma. What advice do you have based on your experience learning how airline pricing works? The single best trick to getting cheap airfare is flexibility. Being flexible not just with your dates but also your locations. For example, that NYC-Milan nonstop round-trip deal for $130 I mentioned at the top. I wasn’t living in NYC; I was living in DC. But for that fare it was well worth the short $20 bus ride up. I spent the weekend with friends in NYC and saved myself $650 off what fares would’ve been from DC to Milan.

The way most people approach getting a flight is this: (1) pick where they want to go; (2) pick their dates; and (3) see what prices are available. By prioritizing the fare lowest, they often end up with expensive tickets.

Instead, if getting a cheap flight is your priority, flip the order: (1) see what prices are available to various places are around the world; (2) decide which of the cheap destinations appeal to you; and (3) select the dates you like that have the cheap fares available.

What’s the craziest deal you ever got? In addition to that $130 nonstop NYC-Milan deal, my wife and I recently scored $169 round-trip flights to Japan — flippin’ love mistake fares. And team members have gotten similarly good deals to Hawaii, New Zealand, etc.

Finally, what’s one non-airfare-related travel piece of advice you’d give someone? Read more magazine articles and listen to more smart, informative podcasts. I’m a firm believer in the liberal arts approach of knowing a bit about everything (as opposed to everything about just one subject), not only as a way to be a well-rounded person but also as a social lubricant. If you can hold a conversation about anything from architecture to the stock market to Asian budget airlines, you’re far more likely to meet interesting people and develop deeper relationships.

Scott founded Scott’s Cheap Flights in a Denver coffeeshop. Scott is the flight searcher-in-chief, spending 8-12 hours a day on Google Flights as well as oversee daily operations. If you’re looking for flight deals, it’s one of the best.

The post The Secret Sauce Behind Scott’s Cheap Flights appeared first on Nomadic Matt's Travel Site.

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The Secret Sauce Behind Scott’s Cheap Flights

“Have you heard of Scott’s Cheap Flights? Should I use them?”

When friends and family far removed from the travel hacking/cheap flights space ask me about a website, I know its mainstream. While there are many good deal websites out there (The Flight Deal, Secret Flying, and Holiday Pirates are three of my favorites), Scott’s Cheap Flights seems to have broken through where others have not. Over 1 million people get his daily flight deals email. I’m a big fan of the website and their ability to often break airfare deals (I used one of their alerts to fly to South Africa). It turns out Scott is a fan of my website too so we sat down for an interview where I got him to spill the secret behind his website:

Nomadic Matt: Tell everyone about yourself. How did you get into this? Scott: When I graduated college in 2009, I knew two things: (1) I wanted to travel the world and (2) I was never going to be wealthy. So if I wasn’t going to let #2 prevent #1, I knew I would have to figure out some creative ways to travel without spending my life savings. I began reading up on flight pricing economics, spending hours on various flight search engines, and learning various airfare patterns. Before long, I found an online community of fellow travel hackers and cheap-flight aficionados who enjoy not just travel but also the thrill of getting a great deal on flights.

Where did the idea of this website come from? Scott’s Cheap Flights has a weird origin story. In 2013, I got the best deal of my life: nonstop from NYC to Milan for $130 round-trip. Milan hadn’t even been on my radar as a place to visit, but for $130 round-trip, there’s no way I wouldn’t go. And it turned out to be amazing! I went skiing in the Alps, caught an AC Milan match, hiked Cinque Terre, hung out on Lake Como. It was divine.

When I got back, word spread among friends and coworkers about the deal I got, and dozens of them began asking me to let them know next time I found a fare like that so they could get in on it, too. So rather than try to remember to tell George and Esther and Aviva when a great deal popped up, I decided to start a simple little email list instead so I could alert everyone at once. Scott’s Cheap Flights was born.

For the first 18 months, though, it was just a little, fun hobby I did for my friends. It wasn’t until August 2015 that it had generated enough organic growth that it made sense to think about turning it into a business.

You’ve sort of blown up in the last year or so. What do you think have been the two biggest factors into your success? First off, thanks! We just hit one million subscribers — still hard for me to believe. The credit goes to two primary factors:

First, there’s an incredible team who runs Scott’s Cheap Flights. It’s not just me; we’re up to 25 folks on the team now. We have a team of flight searchers finding great deals around the world, and also a team of amazing customer support folks. On an average day we get well over 700 emails in our inbox, and most people get a response within a few hours, if not a few minutes. I think this is a major reason why more than 50% of people who sign up for Scott’s Cheap Flights found out about it via word of mouth.

Second, the startup itself had very serendipitous timing. Right around when Scott’s Cheap Flights became a business, international flight prices began to plummet, fueled by low oil prices and a bevy of new low-cost airlines like Norwegian and WOW jumping into the transatlantic market. Whereas in 2010 it was rare to see flights from the US to Europe under $900 round-trip, in 2015 (and through to today), it’s relatively common to see those same flights around $400 round-trip, if not less. We can’t force airlines to offer cheap flights, but we’ve been there to ride the wave these past few years and help subscribers pay half of what they used to to travel abroad.

Were there any media hits or high-profile features that really changed your trajectory? I remember hearing about you a few years ago, but now it seems everyone I know, even outside of travel, has heard of your newsletter. There was one in particular: a Business Insider article and I were taking in the summer of 2015. It helped take Scott’s Cheap Flights from a hobby to a full-fledged business by bringing in thousands of new subscribers. We’ve had hundreds of media hits in the two years since then, but as we’ve grown, each individual one has necessarily had a diminishing impact. Perhaps a Nomadic Matt interview will give a big new boost though!

How does your website work? How do you find these deals? Do you have team of people searching for deals? Is it an algorithm? One thing that surprises a lot of people is that we don’t have a bunch of computers running secret algorithms to find cheap flights. All of our fares are searched by hand. The secret sauce is hard work. Airfare changes by the hour, if not by the minute, and the best deals don’t tend to last very long, so finding out about them early is the key to booking them before they’re gone. Most people don’t want to spend all their free time searching for cheap flights; we love doing it and being subscribers’ early detection radar.

Another way to think of it is like this: Almost everybody is capable of cooking dinner at home, but that doesn’t prevent the existence of the restaurant industry. People don’t always want to put in the time and effort required to find cheap flights, so we’re happy to do it for them.

That seems super time-consuming. How do you decide what and where to search? Do you just randomly plugging in places and dates, or is there more of a method to the madness? There’s a bit of proprietary knowledge that goes into the process, but 95% of it is just the sheer legwork, day after day, searching various routes and seeing what pops up. There’s more of a skill aspect to the process than I would’ve guessed four years ago, whether that’s remembering certain esoteric routes that periodically go on sale, or knowing that a fare war out of one city likely indicates fare drops in other similar cities. For the most part, though, it’s just a small team of incredibly talented and dedicated flight searchers scouring through fares all day every day, disregarding 99% of them and skimming off the juiciest 1% to send to subscribers.

What are some of the biggest trends in flights you are seeing right now? In the last year or two we’ve seen far cheaper flights than in the past to India (before: $1,000+, now: ~$600), Italy and the Netherlands (before: $900, now: ~$350), and Hawaii (before: $800, now $350 from the West Coast, $550 from further east).

Unfortunately (though perhaps not surprisingly), we’re seeing a continued drought of cheap flights to popular destinations like Brazil, Argentina, Australia, and New Zealand.

In addition, we’re seeing a continued unbundling of airfare: more low-cost carriers and “budget economy” fares offered by full-service carriers that don’t include checked bags, seat selection, or meals.

Do you use your own deals or are you more of a points/miles-in-business-class kind of guy? Sure do! I’m personally not a business-class type of guy. I’m still young enough to be fine in coach for as long and far as a plane can fly. Ask me again in 20 years — but in general I’m uncomfortable being doted on in the premium section of the plane. I’m a simple guy. I don’t need much.

Will we see more business-class deals? Don’t wanna overpromise and underdeliver. Stay tuned!

Do you plan to go global and feature more non-US deals? Yes! We have a team of flight searchers finding cheap fares departing not just from the US but also Canada, the UK and mainland Europe, Australia and New Zealand, the Caribbean, Latin America, Asia, and the Middle East (Sub-Saharan Africa coming soon!).

You get all these flight deals, but tell me some of your favorite travel experiences. What’s one of your favorite recent travel memories? Last year my wife and I took a trip to Belarus to visit her family. One of the days we took a trip to a “park” that consisted of a big open field filled with old discarded and retired Cold War–era Soviet weapons. Think machine guns, missiles, and tanks.

Mostly people would walk around and pose for selfies in front of these massive weapons, but at one point I saw a small group of tourists from Asia hand a park operator some cash and then start to climb on top of a WWII-era tank. I thought they were just going to take photos, but a few seconds later the tank started lurching forward before hitting a cool 25 miles per hour, zipping around the park. These tourists were having the time of their effing lives, and it gave me so much joy just to watch them.

Your deal website is great of course, but what about just everyday flights people need to see Grandma. What advice do you have based on your experience learning how airline pricing works? The single best trick to getting cheap airfare is flexibility. Being flexible not just with your dates but also your locations. For example, that NYC-Milan nonstop round-trip deal for $130 I mentioned at the top. I wasn’t living in NYC; I was living in DC. But for that fare it was well worth the short $20 bus ride up. I spent the weekend with friends in NYC and saved myself $650 off what fares would’ve been from DC to Milan.

The way most people approach getting a flight is this: (1) pick where they want to go; (2) pick their dates; and (3) see what prices are available. By prioritizing the fare lowest, they often end up with expensive tickets.

Instead, if getting a cheap flight is your priority, flip the order: (1) see what prices are available to various places are around the world; (2) decide which of the cheap destinations appeal to you; and (3) select the dates you like that have the cheap fares available.

What’s the craziest deal you ever got? In addition to that $130 nonstop NYC-Milan deal, my wife and I recently scored $169 round-trip flights to Japan — flippin’ love mistake fares. And team members have gotten similarly good deals to Hawaii, New Zealand, etc.

Finally, what’s one non-airfare-related travel piece of advice you’d give someone? Read more magazine articles and listen to more smart, informative podcasts. I’m a firm believer in the liberal arts approach of knowing a bit about everything (as opposed to everything about just one subject), not only as a way to be a well-rounded person but also as a social lubricant. If you can hold a conversation about anything from architecture to the stock market to Asian budget airlines, you’re far more likely to meet interesting people and develop deeper relationships.

Scott founded Scott’s Cheap Flights in a Denver coffeeshop. Scott is the flight searcher-in-chief, spending 8-12 hours a day on Google Flights as well as oversee daily operations. If you’re looking for flight deals, it’s one of the best.

The post The Secret Sauce Behind Scott’s Cheap Flights appeared first on Nomadic Matt's Travel Site.