#like i knew going in it would be easier because arabic is Hell for english speakers but

[suttttton]

i started learning french, which will be my third language after english and arabic, and after 5 years of studying arabic i am FLOORED by how easy this language is

[ziracona]

Would Adiris ever learn English? Or any other language where translation would be easier with her and her friends?

English is a very hard language I can definitely see Adiris hunched over on a desk, frustrated of the confusing as hell language she wants to learn in order to talk with her first ever friends. Damn, that's love right there. Subjecting yourself to migraines and hair pulling just so you guys can understand each other.

OR WAIT. Maybe instead, her friends would learn Akkadian from her. Since it's a dead language, it could be used to hide conversations from others in dangerous situations. But it's probably really hard for everyone else too, especially if Adiris is the ONLY one who can teach them, there isn't really any other outside source that would be super helpful.

Idk I just think about the intricate struggles with learning a new language when your mother tongue is nothing like what you're trying to learn. People who do it are very strong.

Oh I’m sure she would! And that it would go both ways. You’re right though that it’d really hard for them both. English is a Germanic language, and going back to its stem, Indo-European, whereas Akkadian is a Semitic language stemming from the Afro-Asiatic root. They have /nothing/ in common. So for both parties, it’d be a very hard thing to set out to learn; unfamiliar rules, frustrating grammar, totally different ways of doing things. But I think it would also be really cool for both to learn something so different and new, and they’d all go for it. It’s just a shame the survivors don’t have like, Arabic as a common language or something, because that’d be a lot easier for Adiris to approach initially.

While it’d definitely be a learning curve, I’m totally sure they’d go for it, and Adiris would pick up English and other languages, and teach them Akkadian. And speaking from some small experience teaching myself some amount of Akkadian last year, it’s both incredibly frustrating and super fun to approach a language that’s just fascinatingly completely different from your native one—and with a teacher? Way less frustration, way more fascination and fun. Plus they’d all (especially Adiris) get to learn by far the easiest way (immersion), so that would help a lot. Like, so much. And it would be really fun and cool in general, but also super historically valuable to have someone who actually knew and could teach and translate ancient Akkadian fluently. Like that’s a dead and buried language.

Anyway, she and they would both 100% do it and as soon as possible, and I don’t think they’d stop at just English and Akkadian. English is handy because all the survivors speak it, but I think after having those two so Adiris could talk easily with them, they’d dig into the language interest and go after some of the others too; Russian, sign language, Chinese, Spanish, Swedish, etc. If we had the time and ability to pursue languages during life easier, I think a lot of us would, and I feel pretty sure once they had the freedom, the survivors would really enjoy that. It feels good to learn languages. : )

[fridayfirefly]

Lost and Found [Part Eight]

Masterlist | Ao3

Time passed, and Marinette loved every second of it, especially the time she spent with her friends. By the time she graduated from collège and moved onto lycée, her group of friends had expanded. She, Nino, Kim, Alix, Chloé, and Adrien spent as much time as they could together. The group of six had started an unofficial language-learning club. Marinette, Nino, and Chloé all made a pact to learn English, their Soulmates' primary language. Kim, Alix, and Adrien chose Japanese as their language of choice. For a while, Marinette was exceptionally proud of herself for taking the initiative to learn English, until she learned that her Soulmate's actual native language was Arabic. It took only five minutes of begging for Nino to agree to teach Marinette Arabic. She didn't pick it up as naturally as she picked up English, but after three years, she got rather proficient.

Time passed, and Marinette yearned for her Soulmate. Every Friday night for three years, she spent with her five best friends in the world. They baked cookies, watched movies, and stayed up late talking about Soulmates. But there was always something missing - her Soulmate. Marinette desperately wanted to meet him, but she knew that neither of them was ready. They were both too young. Marinette's parents didn't want her to meet him until she was at least sixteen. Still, Marinette thought that she deserved to at least know his name. After all, he learned her name when they were fourteen. Marinette had slipped up and sent him a picture of one of her pieces of artwork, a piece with her signature at the bottom. When Marinette asked him to return the favor, he decided, citing that their previous agreement to not reveal names until they were sixteen was still in effect. Marinette knew he was right. Learning more information about him would only increase the temptation to try and discover his identity, and discovering his identity would only lead to her trying to meet with him. But understanding didn't make it any easier, not when she so desperately wanted to hold his hand and talk all night with him - in person, not through paper.

Time passed, and Marinette got better at being Ladybug. She and Chat Noir learned how to work together. At first, it was a little rocky. Marinette was her clumsy self, tripping over her yo-yo string and falling flat on her face every time she tried to use her new wings. Chat Noir was a good partner, though it took him some time to figure out how to work as a team. Eventually, they both perfected their roles as Paris's superheroes. Things only got better after the superhero duo revealed their identities to each other. Learning that Chat Noir was actually her friend Adrien Agreste was a relief - Marinette already had so much on her plate, and Adrien helped take some of the load off of it.

Time passed, and the burden of fighting Hawkmoth decreased. At first, fighting him felt like a full-time job. Marinette and Adrien had to transform at all hours of the day, and sometimes the fights would last hours and require multiple retransformations. For two sleep-deprived thirteen-year-olds, it felt like hell. But eventually, Hawkmoth's attacks decreased. A viral campaign, started by none other than Chloé Bourgeoise, called on the people of Paris to be kinder to each other, to help strangers in need, to do whatever they could to prevent akumas, instead of simply waiting for Ladybug and Chat Noir to fix everything. Amazingly, it seemed to work. Hawkmoth's akumas didn't stop entirely, but overall they grew less powerful, and eventually, less frequent. Tikki and Master Fu both had their own theories for Hawkmoth's gradual decline, but Marinette believed wholeheartedly that it was Chloé's doing.

Time passed, and Marinette changed. She started as an awkward thirteen-year-old, desperately trying to juggle her Ladybug responsibilities, her schoolwork, and her relationship with her Soulmate. Three years later, and Marinette was sixteen. Confident, capable, and ready for anything. She wasn't perfect, she knew that, but Marinette felt that she just might be prepared to meet Damian.

Time passed, and Marinette and her Soulmate passed notes constantly. Three years of notes required five separate shoe boxes just to hold them all. Every one in a while, Marinette would go back and read them all.

I played my first video game today and it was more enjoyable than I expected. My friend Jon got it for me. It's called Ultimate Mecha Strike III, and apparently, his Soulmate recommended it to him. It's really popular in France, but it hasn't caught on in the United States yet. It has a multiplayer mode, so if you play it too, maybe we could play together sometime. D.

After many months of waiting, my eldest brother finally took the engagement ring out of his sock drawer. If he doesn't propose soon I fear that I might have to do it for him. D.

The macarons you sent me this morning were absolutely heavenly. Unfortunately, I made the grave mistake of sharing them with my family. If you do not send more soon, there might be a riot in my house. D.

I passed my driving test this morning. Now that I finally have my license, my brothers will stop bothering me about my illegal driving. It's not my fault that where I live, you can only get legally licensed once you reach sixteen. Frankly, I don't think I should have had to abide by it because it's a rule made for children with poor risk assessment skills. My risk assessment skills are above average, and they have always been. D.

Happy Sixteenth Birthday, Marinette. I hope that you have a wonderful day today, and I hope that this year is the year we finally get to meet face to face. Damian W.

However, it wasn't until the day of Damian's seventeenth birthday, March 19th, that Marinette and Damian finally took the first step towards meeting each other in person.

On the morning of Damian's birthday, Marinette woke up early and headed down to the kitchen. Damian's favorite treat was Marinette's lemon raspberry macarons, so it was a birthday (and half-birthday) tradition that Marinette would bake him a whole batch and send them to him one-by-one throughout the day. The macarons were just a small gift for him, though. Marinette's real birthday gift for Damian was a project she had been working on for weeks. It had taken hours upon hours of practice just to become proficient enough at knitting to even think about beginning the project, but Marinette was nothing if not persistent, especially when it came to the people she cared about. Her gift to Damian was a knitted blanket, but not just any knitted blanket. It was made of soft dark blue and white wool. Marinette had painstakingly knitted it so that it contained the same constellations as would be above Paris on the night of Damian's birthday. So that tonight, even though we are miles apart, we can be under the same night sky. Marinette hoped he would like it. Her friends all assured her that he would (Nino, hopeless romantic that he was, was brought to tears when he read the note, which Marinette hoped was a good sign).

It wasn't until late that night when Marinette was sending the last macaron to Damian, that she finally decided to send her gift.

Every day, I am amazed by you, Marinette. Your creative talent astounds me every time I look at something you created. I will treasure this blanket forever. Damian.

Marinette blushed. The only downside of meeting Damian was that he would see exactly what his words did to her, specifically, the amount that she blushed on a daily basis just from reading the notes he sent to her.

Marinette was getting ready for bed when she received another note. She was immediately curious, as this one was in an envelope.

After the longest engagement in the world (3 years, can you believe it) my brother and future sister-in-law have finally set the date for their wedding. If you are able, I would love for you to be my date for the ceremony. You wouldn't have to worry about a hotel or transportation - my house has a spare bedroom that you can sleep in. You could stay for as long as you'd like, though I know that your internship at Agreste Fashion starts on the 29th, so I'm sure you'll want to be home in time for that. I hope that I can see you soon. Damian.

Attached to the note were a wedding invitation and a plane ticket. The invitation was beautifully designed, cream paper trimmed and decorated in gold foil. YOU'RE INVITED. The ▇▇▇ family invites you to celebrate the union between ▇▇▇ and ▇▇▇. The ceremony will be held on Saturday, June 20th at 5 o'clock at ▇▇▇ Gotham, NJ.

Marinette frowned. He had blacked out the names of his brother and his brother's fiancée, as well as the street address of the wedding location. "I'm not that obsessive," Marinette complained to herself. In fairness, while her actions used to border on stalking, she had mellowed out over the past few years, partially due to becoming Ladybug.

The plane ticket didn't have anything blacked out, though none of the information gave Marinette any hints to Damian's identity, other than the fact that he lived in or around Gotham. It was a standard ticket. American Airlines. The date and time of departure: Wednesday, June 17th, at midnight. The most surprising part of it was that he booked her a first-class seat.

"So sweet," smiled Marinette, "But you didn't have to."

There was one glaring problem in her going to Gotham for a week - Hawkmoth. But his attacks happened so infrequently, practically once a month at that point, that Marinette didn't think it should be her biggest concern. A quick internet search revealed that in the worst-case scenario, a nonstop flight from Gotham to Paris was seven hours. While Hawkmoth could certainly do damage in those seven hours, the miraculous cure would reverse all of the damage. Marinette knew it was slightly irresponsible of her, to put her Soulmate responsibilities over her Ladybug responsibilities, but she pushed the thoughts out of her mind. For once, she was going to make a selfish choice. Without even alerting Tikki of the situation, Marinette snagged a piece of notebook paper off of her desk and penned a note to her Soulmate.

To start, I would love to be your date to your brother's wedding. It might take a little bit of convincing to get Maman and Papa on board but I'm pretty sure I can get them to agree. I am sixteen now, after all. Also, you didn't have to spend so much money on the plane ticket. You're already letting me stay with you at your house. I would have been fine flying coach.

I’m glad you liked my birthday present. Hopefully, my next gift to you will be given in person. I’ll be counting down the days until I arrive in Gotham. ~~Marinette~~

Marinette sent the note off, going to bed before waiting for a reply. After all, she would need to be well-rested for a long day of convincing her parents to let her travel to Gotham alone.

——————————————————————

“No way. Gotham is one of the most dangerous cities in America. I’m not letting you travel there alone.”

"But Papa-"

"No."

Marinette frowned. Breakfast had gone a lot worse than she had expected. While she knew her Dad would put up a fuss, she hadn't anticipated him being so dead set against her going. It was Marinette own fault, for not preparing for the argument with her Dad, for trying to pass the trip off as "no big deal", for not doing her research on the crime rates in Gotham (apparently they were exceptionally high, nearly twice as dangerous as Paris). Marinette thought that the discussion would be fairly simple, but her Dad wouldn't budge.

"Tom, she has to meet Damian at some point. This is a good opportunity for her to get to know him and his family." Marinette's Mom was tentatively on her side, but Marinette could tell that even she wasn't fully on board with the plan.

I won't have Marinette traveling halfway across the world, unaccompanied, just to meet her Soulmate."

"What if I wasn't unaccompanied?" asked Marinette.

"It would be too difficult for us to take a week off from the bakery, you know that, Marinette," said Mom. "There's just no way that this trip of yours will work. I'm sorry, Sweetheart."

Marinette sighed, her shoulders slumping. "Fine," she whispered. Abandoning her half-finished breakfast muffin, Marinette grabbed her backpack and left the kitchen. "I'm off to school. Not sure whether or not I'll be home for lunch."

Marinette spent the walk to school holding back angry tears. Her parents promised her that she could meet her Soulmate when she turned sixteen. Yet now that she had the opportunity, they were opposed to it just because they didn't like the city he lived it. (In the back of her mind, Marinette knew that they were just looking out for her, but at that moment, missing the wedding felt like the end of the world).

"What's got you in such a bad mood?" asked Chloé as soon as Marinette sat down next to her.

The entire group of friends all had independent study together first thing in the morning, so all eyes were on Marinette when she pulled the envelope out of her backpack. Spilling the documents inside across the table, Marinette said, "Damian invited me to his brother's wedding, which would be wonderful, except my parents won't let me go because it's in Gotham."

"Gotham as in Batman and Robin?" asked Kim.

"Yep. Apparently, the crime rates are really bad, and my parents think it's too dangerous for me to go there alone."

Chloé picked up the invitation, furrowing her brow as she read it. "This is going to seem crazy, but look at this." Chloé grabbed a book out of her backpack, the copy of Pride and Prejudice that she had gotten so long ago, and opened up the front cover. Tucked inside was the same wedding invitation that Marinette had. "Yesterday, my Soulmate invited me to his brother's wedding as his plus one."

Marinette's eyes widened. "You mean-"

"Damian and J.T. are brothers."

Nino cleared his throat. "I got this from Jon this morning." He held the same invitation in his hands. "Jon says that his family is really close to the family of the groom, and Jon's brother is dating one of the groom's brothers."

"Just how many brothers are there in this family," Alix exclaimed.

"I suppose Damian has at least three," said Marinette. "He talked about his brother's a lot, but I never really connected the dots that there were three of them."

"Wait a minute," said Chloé. "If Nino and I go with you, you won't be going unaccompanied."

"We should all go," Nino suggested.

Kim shook his head. "Alix and I are spending all of June in Japan with Kagami, remember."

"Maybe next summer then," Chloé decided. "We should all take one big vacation somewhere next summer. Maybe a cruise."

While Chloé was brainstorming vacation ideas, Adrien had pulled out his phone to check his calendar. "Damn," he swore. "I have Fashion Week in New York City from the fourteenth to the twentieth. There's no way my Father would let me miss that."

"Maybe you could come afterward," suggested Marinette. "Gotham is only a two-hour drive from New York City. You could be in Gotham on the twenty-first, and you'll still get to spend time with us."

Adrien nodded. "I think that might work. Father would make me bring a bodyguard, though."

"Even better. There's no way my parents could complain about me being unaccompanied if I had a trained bodyguard with me for nearly all of the week."

"Then it's a plan," Chloé sounded excited.

"I can't wait," said Marinette, her mind already starting to daydream about her future trip to Gotham, to see Damian in person for the first time.

——————————————————————

Good news, Damian. I got my parents to agree to let me travel to Gotham. It's a bit of a long story, and I think I might wait to tell you about it until I can tell you in person. Also, you'll have to send me the dress code so I can start making my dress.

I'd like to stay in Gotham until the 27th if you're able to have me for that long. I'll leave early that morning, so I'll have a day to adjust to the jetlag.

There are 89 days left until I get on the plane to Gotham, which means that there are approximately 2136 hours until I meet you face to face. I might die from the wait, but I know that it will be worth it when I get to see your pretty face. ~~Marinette~~

Marinette felt her guilt grow every day that she didn't tell Tikki about the wedding. Marinette didn't like keeping secrets from Tikki, but she also knew what Tikki was like when she was disappointed, and it made her cringe away from the idea of telling her. But enough was enough, and a week after Marinette agreed to go, she brought it up to Tikki.

"Hey Tikki?"

"Yes, Marinette."

"How bad do you think it would be if Chat and I took a vacation in June."

Tikki narrowed her eyes in thought. "A train from London to Paris can make the journey in just under two hours. It's not ideal, but a vacation would be doable."

"I wasn't exactly thinking of England."

"Germany then? Spain? Switzerland? They're all a little further away, but another hour isn't the end of the world."

"I was thinking..." Marinette hesitated. "I was thinking Gotham. To meet Damian."

"No way."

"But Tikki, you don't understand."

"A flight from America to Paris would take far too long in an emergency."

"It's seven hours. You said another hour isn't the end of the world. What's another three or four?"

"Ladybug is not a hobby, Marinette. It's a full-time responsibility. You know that."

Marinette felt like her arguments were going nowhere. "Tikki, listen to me. Hawkmoth's attacks have been more and more infrequent lately. It's over halfway through March now, and we've only had four so far this year. All four were very weak akumas. Chat and I defeated them all in less than twenty minutes. Hawkmoth, for whatever reason, isn't attacking with the same level of danger as before."

"Hawkmoth is still a threat."

"I understand that, but a flight from Gotham to Paris is seven hours. While the akumas would cause damage during those seven hours-"

"-and that damage to Paris would damage the reputations of Ladybug and Chat Noir. The citizens of Paris will spend seven hours believing that they've been abandoned by Ladybug and Chat Noir."

"We can fix any physical damage. As for damage to our reputations, it wouldn't be that hard to record a message telling everyone to remain calm and wait for us to show up. It wouldn't be great for our reputations, that's true, but I’ve given the last three years of my life to Ladybug. I deserve to be Marinette for a little bit.”

“I- I- Fine,” Tikki sighed. “You and Chat do deserve a break. I’m sorry for being so unreasonable.”

“It’s not your fault. You’re just looking out for Paris, in case I get a little too wrapped up in my own life. We balance each other out.”

Tikki nodded, her smile returning. “Life is better with a little bit of balance.”

Taglist: @fanboy7794 @mikantsume @hetalia-lover-is-here @howtoshuckatlife  @you-will-never-know-how-i-think @redscarlet95 @derpingrainbow  @friedchickening @melicmusicmagic @beautym3 @kunstner1 @shizukiryuu @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @crazylittlemunchkin @black-streak @darkshadowguardian @mystery-5-5 @trubel43 @fandomfan315 @vincentvangoose @royalchaoticfangirl @mooshoon @drama-queen-supreme @kae690 @unabashedlyswimmingtimemachine @zoerayne2426 @littleredrobinhoodlum @lunar-wolf-warrior @dani-ari @sam-spectra @be-happy-every-day-please @xxmadamjinxx @interobanginyourmom @northernbluetongue @eliza-bich @romanoff-queen @scribblinggraveyard @dur55 @jeminiikrystal @sassakitty @miss-mysterys-blog @aegyobutpsycho2 @pirats-pizzacanninibles

[blossomhcney]

( brent antonello. 34. cis male. he/him. ) in texas, thomas horne is more commonly known as tommy. they’ve been living in newton for thirty-four years and currently a florist. some say they are resentful & emotional but i’m more inclined to believe those that say they’re calm & trustworthy. if you walk by their house, you can sometimes hear river of tears by alessia cara playing from their window. ( blood stained dog tags, muddied boots, the smell of freshly cut flowers, rose thorns pricking soft skin, early mornings that lead to late nights. ) 

yes, yes. i am back again with yet another character. pls feel free to hit me up for connections with my lil love bug ! he is my fave baby atm i love him so much do not hurt him. or ...... or do. 

PINTEREST BOARD !

NAME. thomas malcolm horne. NICKNAME. tommy. AGE. thirty four. GENDER. cis male. PRONOUNS. he/him. SEXUAL ORIENTATION. homosexual. ROMANTIC ORIENTATION. homoromantic. HOMETOWN. newton. OCCUPATION. owner of the bloom room & horne family farms.

ZODIAC. virgo. POSITIVE TRAITS. calm, trustworthy, honest. NEGATIVE TRAITS. resentful, emotional, guilty. LANGUAGES SPOKEN. english, french, spanish, arabic.

HEIGHT. 6′1 EYE COLOR. green. HAIR COLOR. brunet. TATTOOS. can be found on the pinterest board ! - with the addition of ‘aiden’ across his heart. 

QUICK INFO.

trigger warnings: pow, death, mentions of torture, mention of cancer.

thomas horne was born to mary and jacob horne on a stormy tuesday evening. he was the second born horne child, but not the last. they would go on to have three more children, growing their family steadily over the years. jacob had always joked about needing to have five children so they had somebody to pass their businesses down to when they died and whilst he was making a joke about it, he would have three children who wanted nothing to do it and two who would dedicate their lives to their family businesses. 

thomas was a shy child and he rarely left his older brother’s side, clinging him to as though his life depended on it when they went anywhere outside of their home. it took him a long time to finally become comfortable with the idea of being alone, not lonely, because he would never grow accustomed to such a feeling. he began to play alone and try to branch out and talk to the other kids at school. there was one in particular that almost seemed to take pity on him, but they became fast friends and, before he knew it, they were inseparable. they were most certainly his best friend in the whole entire world and thomas could not imagine a day without them.

upon discovering that his father had been in the army, thomas had become fascinated with the idea. the thought of helping his country and making a difference was so very attractive. he could not help the obsession as it slowly grew. looking at old pictures of his father, looking at his dog tags, listening to his stories. it was hardly thomas’ fault that he was as interested as he was, especially when his father described it the way he did. there was nothing wrong with just looking into it, right?

wrong. the second thomas began ‘looking into it’, he was hooked. he was absolutely determined to join and he longed for the satisfaction that his father had found whilst serving. his mother was reluctant to get on board with the idea, but she saw the way thomas’ face lit up each time he even mentioned going away, so how could she say no? his siblings constantly talked about how jealous they were that he was going to get out of texas, but truly, he was scared to do it. he was terrified to leave his family behind and become somebody new, somebody that he was so.. scared of meeting because what if he didn’t like them? what if he hated the person that he was to become?

eighteen came and thomas joined the army. the feeling was only to be described as elation as his father hugged him tightly and wished him all the best, his mother grasped his hands tightly and told him to write to her and call whenever he could. his siblings gave him small tokens of their affection and off he went. he felt like he had won the lottery and everything was going perfectly. his mos was translation and it was the best decision he could have made. 

just as he thought that nothing could get better, he fell in love. it was as cliche as it could be, but he slowly began to develop feelings for another on his team. finding out that he felt the same only made it better and more complicated. secrecy was something that thomas was highly skilled at for all his years of only spending time with himself, but it did not make things any easier. he wanted to be able to tell the world about the man he loved and he could hardly tell him.

he had been on patrol one night when everything turned to shit. he and aiden had spent the past few years discussing the potential of their future and thomas had been so excited to take aiden home to meet his parents because his mother would adore him. and he had absolutely every intention of following through with that. until he had been taken as a prisoner of war. not just him, the guy who was on patrol with him that evening had been taken, too. he would go on to spend the next year and a half chained up and tortured because he refused to give up information. the problem was, the information he was refusing to give up? he did not have. he watched as they killed the man he had been taken with and the only thing that got him through each agonising day was knowing that he would see aiden again. 

when he was finally rescued, they told him that there was nobody waiting for him and that he needed to go back to his hometown and not tell a soul about the experience. it took him a while to believe that aiden truly did not care, but he never came for him, so he resigned himself to the fact that he had cared more and opened himself up to heartache. and he had lost that battle. upon arriving back home, his parents were distraught at being told their son was alive after being told he had been killed in action. seeing him in the flesh was something else entirely and it took his mother an entire week to stop sleeping in the bed with him. hell, he needed that more than she did, because he couldn’t close his eyes without seeing images of the torture he had endured. 

after a while, he had been sat at home, not really doing anything and he needed to get back out there and experience life. perhaps not in the ways that he once had the joy and time for, but he needed to do something. he started helping out on the family again and helped his mother with the flower shop. he grew to love the bloom room more than he had when he was a child and he took a course to become a florist with the help of his mother. he finally felt that he had a purpose to his life again.

some months later, his mother fell ill and thomas threw himself into working at the bloom room in her absence. he was there before opening and after closing and people were beginning to associate his face with the face of the shop. when his mother died after a six month battle with cancer, she left the shop to him in her will. it was devastating, that after such a long period of her believing her son was dead, she got him back. but thomas knew that he could never have her back. she was gone and she was gone forever. 

now, he works nonstop at the bloom room and helps out at the farm most evenings and early mornings. he does nothing but work and spends what little free time he has with his family and the few cherished friends he still has. 

WANTED CONNECTIONS.

childhood best friend: i mean ..... this one is super cute and self explanatory, but they were the bestest friends as kids and teenagers and grew apart when he left for the army. they were the first person he came out to, they literally told each other everything and were inseparable.

first girlfriend: so, thomas had a tiny period where he thought he might be straight and this would have been the girl that sort of .... confirmed for him that he wasn’t. he was 16 at the time, so she would have been 16 or 17 at the oldest. it was not a ‘she turned him gay’ thing (which is not a thing at all but i digress), so there would be no hatred here, but we can discuss this in length. 

first boyfriend: now, this was literally right after his first girlfriend. they weren’t even technically dating, but they took his virginity and he took theirs and it was cute and they ‘dated’ right until he left for the army and he will always cherish them for giving him the experiences he felt he needed before he went off to grow up.

close friends: literally anybody that would wanna love down a lil damaged army boy who secludes himself and want to help pull him out of his shell. he’s basically gone back to his childhood ways of closing himself off so pls feel free to drag him tf out.

and uh anything else y’all want !

[sasslightertm-a]

ooookay, so, some bullshit™ happened earlier this past week and I’m annoyed and pissed. incoming rant/vent under the cut (with screenshots used by permission).

As most of you who have been following me long enough probably know by now, there is a Charmed Discord server and I was in it for a while until I left in early January 2019, for reasons that will be discussed later. The main mod runs a few Charmed rp blogs here on Tumblr, we did have a few threads planned out together, and eventually after I left the Discord server it got to a point where I felt uncomfortable seeing her posts on my dash so I quietly unfollowed and deleted our thread I’d had in my drafts (which had been sitting there for months by this point anyway because I am slow af). Shortly after I unfollwed her, she unfollowed me without so much a message of “Would you be interested in continuing any threads?”.

This mod, while I was in the server, also created a venting/ranting group Google doc against another Charmed roleplayer who has been around for years and had been in the server as well but also left for much the same reasons I later did (namely, feeling unwelcome within the server). (The Google doc has since been deleted, I believe.)

Which brings me to the main point of this post. One of my close friends/mutuals noticed this mod and the roleplayer starting to interact again when both of them had unfollowed each other for months beforehand after the mod decided this roleplayer was Toxic™.

Uh-huh, sure, I find it very hard to believe you told her about the call-out Google doc and everything in it and she was perfectly understanding about it. I also have yet to hear an apology at all from this mun when 1) the most we would do is talk OOC anyway; 2) my Chris and Bilie were constantly ignored despite me showing interest in some of her wishlist ideas; and 3) any threads we did have would only get two replies in if I was lucky and were then dropped. So I unfollowed ages ago and moved on with other mutuals, and at this point it’s honestly not worth it.

And no, sorry, the server was not inactive when I left it back in early/mid January. Everyone was either in the general, headcanons, or venting channels And yes, any time anyone responded to me it was because I or my friend had said something they wanted to argue with or turn into a headcanon about their own next-generation muses. Also? For all y’all would squee over white US-American YouTuber cover artists or Korean boybands (despite none of you speaking a word of Korean), or the mod occasionally slipping into Arabic and then translating when one of us would ‘???’, the instant I try and share a cover by an amazing Turkish musical-theater singer who speaks German and does German-language musicals (said cover was in English, by the way), or the instant I would talk about something I learned in one of my German classes (despite most of my ancestry being, y’know, German [and for the record, said German ancestors came over to the States in the 1800s, so don’t even go there])... dead silence. 

1) oh my gods I’m howling. Thanks for admitting most of the people in the server hate me just because they found my fanfiction and that I like to write dark-themed fics and smut. Out of curiosity, was it one of my FF.net accounts (my main, my Charmed-fic-centric one, or my dark!AU Tenth Doctor-fic-centric one) or was it my AO3? (Also way to go for basically admitting that yup, you’re all a bunch of antis and really be drinking the evangelical fundamentalist Christian purity culture Kool-Aid.)

and btw, saying “complete transparency?” like that is just code for “I’m about to be a petty bitch and you’re not going to want to hear it, but too late.”

also, what, like none of you have ever wanted to write kinky smutty fanfic just because it’s fun and lets you work out various fantasies that may or may not be inherently transgressive? as far as I’m aware I was one of maybe two other people in that server who identify as asexual so don’t even try and say any of youse are sex-repulsed aces.

my smutfic isn’t even that kinky, but go off, I guess

tbh they also probably hate me bc I called them out over their misuse of the word “pedophilia” in regards to this one particular scene in a teen drama TV show between fictional teenage characters being portrayed by adult actors that airs on a network aiming for a 18 to 49-year-old demographic, and the mod and I would disagree over various things concerning US-American Wicca, but hey, it’s easier to just go after my fanfiction and say they hate me because of the fanfics, right?

speaking of that scene they were so up-in-arms about, don’t even try and tell me real-life allosexual teenagers are not horny and don’t have sex with other teenagers, because coming from a state with one of the highest rates of teen pregnancy (where more often than not both would-be parents are teenagers of or around the same age), I will not believe you

like, seriously, do NONE of you remember ever being horny and hormonal as a teenager, or...? 

2) Stop trying to make this an argument that needs to be won, because it isn’t. Also? By the time I left the Charmed Discord server didn’t even feel like a Charmed server anyway, so. There’s that.

3) My friend is right and she should say it.

A few things here: 

How does any of that sound accusatory when it’s true and my friend calmly laying out how she felt about the situation??

Again, stop trying to make this into an argument or personal attack because it isn’t. And not every single conversation is a debate that needs to be won.

“I was half joking”, uh-huh, yeah, riiiiight. Also? How is it any of your business how she decides to run her blog and curtail it so she feels safe on her own dash??? Especially when you don’t even follow or interact with her anymore?? Hell, I softblock people myself who are either inactive and just taking up my follower account, or are personal/fandom blogs who I just don’t want interacting with me. And if you follow me but don’t make any motion to interact, then yeah I’m probably going to softblock you too after posting a heads-up that I’ll be cleaning out my follower count.

And the best part??? Immediately after all this the mod/mun made a post on her blog saying how she doesn’t put up with passive-aggressiveness or manipulation. How the fuck is my friend/mutual being passive-aggressive or manipulative???? 

I’m sorry, but no, you do not get to do that. I see what you did there, and it is not okay. And I am glad I don’t have to deal with any of this mun’s bullshit anymore, or most of the people in the server, apparently. They blocked me solely because they found my kinky darkfic? Fine, great, it’s not like any of them ever interacted with any of my muses anyway and I don’t want to deal with them either. (But also... I made it clear on the server that I also write a dark eldritch!AU Tenth Doctor from Doctor Who and they all knew I have a sideblog for the canon evil version of Chris Halliwell so how exactly was it a surprise that I like writing fanfiction with darker themes and grey areas?)

Anyway, no, that language used on my friend was not called for at all. Neither was trying to make her out to be the aggressor when anyone who’s chatted with her OOC for long enough knows that even doing this much is hard emotionally for her. This was also not an argument that absolutely had to be won so quit trying to turn everything into an argument to make yourself look better. And ooh, boy, tone policing on top of that. That last response was classic “I know you’re right but I don’t want to admit it so I’m just gonna say something to make myself look like I came out on top.”

Nah. 

There’s the door. Make sure it hits you on the way out.

[sailorsolar12]

A Possible Fic

Hey everybody. This is a trial chapter of a possible Kamigami no Asobi fiction I wanna do in the future. Please let me know what you guys think. Also, please send me requests. I finally sat down and rebooted my old laptop that I had wiped, so it is much easier for me to do writing and things on Tumblr, Wattpad, and Fanfiction. One more note, this story would go onto either Wattpad or FanFiction. I can’t choose right now. I have no official title for this at the moment. If you have any ideas go ahead and shoot me a message for possible ideas. If anyone has any ideas about cover art or would like to submit something PLEASE send it to my email heirofthejedi@outlook.com. From there I might hold a contest and have you guys vote on which cover I will use.

WARNING: Swearing, mentions of abuse

I will be using Google Translate by the way guys for whenever I use translations. I am putting a key below for you guys. Arabic will be for Thoth’s talking when he isn’t teaching a class.

WRITING KEY:

Writing - Japanese

Writing - Arabic and Anubis Speaking

Writing - Norse

Writing - Greek

Words:

Chapter - 1752

Total - 2130

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For the entirety of Yuri’s - or Lily as she preferred as it was the English translation of her name - life, she dealt with an alcoholic mother, an abusive father, and fake friends. She often found herself taking the beating for her younger brother as she didn’t want him to be exposed to the true horrors of their parents. She knew that she was not her parent’s child biologically speaking - even if both of her parents were half Japanese, but after her 12th birthday everything began to change. She naturally blonde hair gained a whitish hue to it and slowly turned blue at the ends. Her dull teal eyes became a vibrant cobalt blue that would flash bright gold if her emotions became too much to handle. Her father had noticed the change, and that was when the abuse started.

She was now 17 and in her senior year of high school in San Francisco. Her 18th birthday was in two months, and she couldn’t wait because she would fight to get custody of her brother and get out of the hellish hole. She had been working non stop at the small diner near her home as she had known the owner since she was a kid. She started working at 15, and began to save every single penny that she earned to get her and her brother out of the country and to Japan. She didn’t understand why, but she somehow felt connected to Japan in some way. She always found that she was someone who would wake up just before the sunrise and seemed to get sleepy just after the sunset.

Currently she was curled up on her bed listening to her typical playlist that included Paramore, Starset, Skillet, Black Veil Brides, and Breaking Benjamin. She knew that quite a few of the songs were darker, but she liked them as the lyrics were relatable. She tensed suddenly feeling something around her. The 17-year-old froze hearing a loud yet deep voice.

Yuri Akenomyōsei

Lily swallowed thickly and looked around rapidly as she took out her headphones. She frowned slightly and looked around her room. She went wide eyed seeing the ornate Japanese fan glowing. The teen slowly stood going to the fan and reached out to touched it but froze as it pulsed with power and the voice spoke again.

Yuri Akenomyōsei

The white and blue haired girl reached up to grab the fan when everything around her turned white, and she was gone from her room in a flash of light. A small groan left her lips as she realized she was laying on a hard surface. She felt something pushing lightly at her nose and slowly opened her eyes. Lily frowned slightly seeing a white haired bunny. She slowly sat up confused as she looked around and saw she was inside a large hallway of sorts. The 17-year-old looked at the rabbit for a moment and frowned as she slowly pet its head. “What on earth are you doing out here little one? Where’s your owner?” She went wide eyed as the rabbit turned and began to hop away.

Lily scrambled to her feet as she ran after the rabbit and frowned as it led her through the many hallways. The architecture style of the hallways and building seemed oddly like a Japanese school, but she wasn't 100% positive. The blue eyed girl stopped as she saw the rabbit go into a classroom. She blinked and slowly came up to the door pushing it open slightly and poking her head inside. She frowned seeing a light purple hair boy holding the rabbit. The teen swallowed slightly as she studied him for a moment. The boy seemed very familiar, but she didn’t know from where. He seemed to be of Japanese descent so she easily spoke up in Japanese. “Anata wa watashitachi ga doko ni iru ka shitte imasu ka?” Lily watched as the boy looked up from petting his rabbit and froze.

Tsukito Totsuka leaned against a window sill as he waited for his brother to return from searching for Usamaro. He looked down as the rabbit came hopping into the classroom. He quickly reached down and scooped up the rabbit petting his head. He heard someone else enter the room and thought it was his brother, but then he ward the person speak and found it was a girl. Tsukito looked up after the girl spoke and everything stilled. No there was no possible way. This couldn’t be her….after all this time. He answered quickly. “Dare ga ieru no? Anata mo ushinatte imasu ka? Anata wa kanari onajimi no yōdesu.” He paused as his brother walked back into the classroom.

Takeru sighed heavily as he rubbed the back of his head. Usamaro had run off, but he couldn’t find the white rabbit. “Burazā, usamaro ga mitsukaranai… ā, kare wa modottekita? E? Anatahadare?” He frowned and put his hand in his pocket as he narrowed his eyes while staring at the second person in the classroom with his brother. He knew that hair. He had seen her die. There was no way that she was alive. The blue haired deity glared as the person turned around to show the very eyes that belonged to the one he called sister. “Anatahadare?” When she didn’t answer right away, his glare darkened as he stomped towards her. “Koko kara kimashita ka. Oshietekudasai! Kono basho wa nanidesu ka? Naze anata wa kanojo to mattaku onajiyōni miemasuka?”

Lily went wide eyed as she backed up slightly as the blue haired guy stomped towards her and got in her face. She blinked slightly confused as to what he meant. She could understand him, but she didn’t really understand why he was acting in such a manner. She frowned at him and straightened. “Anata ga dareda to omou no ka, dareda to omou no ka watashiniha wakarimasen. Watashinonamaeha Akenomyōsei Yuri.” She saw what looked like hope drain from his eyes as he backed up.

Takeru scoffed and walked away dragging his brother with him. They needed to know where the hell they were. He did not want to be around his sister’s look alike for the rest of the day. He glanced behind him as he saw the girl - Yuri - start to follow them. He glared at her. “Forō shinaide kudasai.”

Lily frowned at his attitude and wanted to retort back, but she decided not to follow them so she could focus on finding out where she was.

About thirty minutes later, the 17-year-old stumbled upon a large room that had a grand staircase. She frowned slightly seeing the two people she ran into earlier as well as quite a few others. She saw a purple haired girl standing with a blonde not to far ahead. The white and blue haired girl saw another blonde on the staircase holding a staff. She frowned. Power radiated off of this man, and it made her nervous.

Zeus smirked as he saw the last person enter the room where everyone had gathered. He looked around before speaking. “Welcome to my garden, to my academy...my beloved students,” he said speaking in English knowing that because of how the garden worked everyone would speak English in a crowd.

Takeru growled as he stepped forward. “Cut the crap! You’re behind all of this!!” He glared at the blonde god with rage.

Zeus looked at the sea god and simply smirked. “Japanese God of the Sea, Susano’o. Japanese God of the Moon, Tsukuyomi. Japanese Goddess of the Sun, Amaterasu. Norse God of Light, Balder. Norse God of Fire, Loki. Norse God of Thunder, Thor. Greek God of the Underworld, Hades. Greek God of Fertility, Dionysus. And Greek God of the Sun, Apollon. You will all learn about humans in order to revive the ancient link between the gods and humanity.”

Loki smirked darkly, but as he was about to speak, someone beat him to it.

“You piece of shit. You are batshit insane if you think I am a goddess!” Lily yelled stepped up next to the girl and Apollon. “There is no fucking way I am a goddess. No fucking way that you think you can kidnap people. That’s not how shit works asshole!” She could feel everyone staring at her as spoke, but Lily didn’t really care about anyone’s opinion. This fucker did not have the right to just kidnap people. She hadn’t realized that her eyes turned bright gold and her hair seemed to glow.

Zeus stared down at the Japanese goddess. He had never heard such vulgar language from someone who was to be an important deity. He frowned as he saw Susano’o call on his divine powers and lunge at him while he felt Loki call on fire and jump over the railing of the balcony. Just before the two reached him, he tapped the bottom tip of his staff on the step he stood on. Lightning crackled and sent the two flying down to the ground. “If you use your divine powers indiscriminately, this academy will be destroyed,” he said with a smirk.

Lily narrowed her eyes as she crossed her eyes. Her eyes were now back to their normal blue color. She was curious as to how he would block their supposed divine powers, and if he would do to her what he would do to them as he claimed she was a goddess. The white and blue haired girl gasped softly as she felt something wrap itself around her neck. She looked down and saw a large green pendant around her neck. Lily quickly set to work trying to remove the blasted thing, but it wouldn’t budge. She looked at the younger blonde man, Apollon if she remembered correctly, and saw he himself was trying to take off a ring. Her eyes looked around the room, and she saw Loki and Takeru trying to take off their own shackles. This Zeus guys had some serious issues. She listened intently as Zeus continued to speak. The 17-year-old paled as she heard him say that they would have a year to graduate or they would be stuck on this island together forever. She stepped up. “You have to send me back! Please, I can’t be here for a year! I have to be there for my little brother! I can’t let him get hurt.” She mentally cursed herself. She didn’t mean to give away part of the reason she feared for her younger brother’s safety.

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Japanese Translations:

1) Anata wa watashitachi ga doko ni iru ka shitte imasu ka? - Do you know where we are?

2) Dare ga ieru no? Anata mo ushinatte imasu ka? Anata wa kanari onajimi no yōdesu. - Who can say? Are you lost as well? You look rather familiar.

3) Burazā, usamaro ga mitsukaranai… ā, kare wa modottekita? E? Anatahadare? - Brother, I can't find Usamaro...Oh, he came back? Huh? Who are you?

4) Anatahadare? - Who are you?

5) Koko kara kimashita ka. Oshietekudasai! Kono basho wa nanidesu ka? Naze anata wa kanojo to mattaku onajiyōni miemasuka? - Are you from here?! Tell me! What is this place? Why do you look exactly like her?

6) Anata ga dareda to omou no ka, dareda to omou no ka watashiniha wakarimasen. Watashinonamaeha Akenomyōsei Yuri. - I don’t know who you think you are or who you think I am. Ny name is Yuri Akenomyōsei.

7) Forō shinaide kudasai - Don’t Follow us

This is all that I have for the moment. I won’t continue until you guys let me know how it is.

[batboys-batboys-whachu-gonna-do]

"Let's finish this, brat! I want to go home," Jason yelled under his helmet while kicking one of the men that surrounded him.

"Todd, I'm not freaking magical so shut the hell up and do your damn job!" Damian yelled back from the other side of the room, where Jason couldn't directly see him. The only confirmation of Damian's work was his cursing and the bodies of the enemies hitting the floor loudly.

He chuckled under he's breath as he saw two of them trying to get up and then immediately sitting back down because of the current Robin's threats.

"Dare to come back here, and.." he said whilst flipping a man and making him hit the floor with a thud "...and you'll definitely NOT like it," he finished kicking another one's kneecap.

A strong punch in the stomach woke Red Hood from his trance, the poor guy wasn't even in a defensive stance so instead of using any weapon he just threw an uppercut knocking him out.

Jason had to admit that he tried to call the attention to him, but the kid was and easy target, or that's what the bad guys thought...and that affected greatly to the point where Damian had almost 15 more people around him than the legendary Red Hood.

Even if Jason knew that the brat could handle it, it was still unfair. For them, not for Damian, who seemed to enjoy it.

The Hood headed rapidly to the other room because of the sound of a threatening blade.

"What did I tell you about being too mean, Dames, huh?" He said, eyeing the many unconscious men in the room. Did he just talk like Dick? Dear god.

"T-T," Damian answered him using the handle of the sword to break some guy's nose.

Jason joined him amused by his little brother's way to obey his orders, they worked rarely in silence and more effectively than normal, just a few comments between them. Even if they weren't the best friends, there was always a promise of protection between them.

Almost half an hour later, they were done. Mostly because it was very easy: clear the place, no killing.

The master mind of the organization had already been taken out of the equation and the people in the building weren't even near the high ranks...they were just thieves and the trash that desperately craved something in the streets.

"Guys, we have a problem," Tim spoke in their ears as they waited in the rooftop of that place in the middle of nowhere and added, "you'll have to wait, we're having trouble in here."

Jason groaned,"How much, Timbers?"

"Five hours, more or less," Red Robin answered trying to sound at ease but failing epicly.

"Drake," Damian said softly but with a clear hint of anger, "What the hell happened?"

"Madness. No one is hurt, but this new whatever that is got us in a trap and with some kind of device blocked the Batwing and almost everything else. We're working on it," Tim explained quickly as if he was in a rush.

"I want a call at any change of situation, Drake." sighed Damian. Tim huffed at that, but answered affirmatively.

Jason started wandering around the rooftop, touching everything and looking more bored with each step. Damian analyzed the night, noticing in a weird gleam by the door, maybe the moonlight reflecting, but suddenly realized what it really was.

He moved faster than he thought he could and pushed Jason and himself off the roof.

"What the fuck, kid?" was the only thing that escaped Jason's mouth. He desperately tried to catch Damian in the air but something up there exploded, they felt the heat and the strength of the bomb making everything blow away,pushing them apart.

From that height, it was granted a certain death and in the commotion he couldn't even find Robin.

Out of nowhere a hand found its way to his and took a tight grasp. Damian had improvised, his eyes looked determined but he knew pain was going to come as soon as the rope tensed.

"Damian, I need you to push me up,"Jason shouted. They were in a horrible position, if they stayed like that both of Robin's arms would end up broken.

Damian tried his best, but there was no way he could just lift a man twice his size just using his body and there was no time. The rope tensed, and the sound of a loud crack and a feral whine flooded the air.

"Fuck, I'm so sorry, Dames," Jason said pulling himself up when they reached the wall. "Don't move, I'll take it from here," he added in a whisper watching the pain in Damian's eyes. The poor kid couldn't even talk.

Jason grabbed something out of Robin's utility belt and secured him to his chest.

The harsh surface of the building made climbing easier, he broke the nearest window and carefully entered the room trying to not cause Damian any more pain.

The kid soon started to drift into sleep, almost passing out.

"Damian, I'm gonna have to put them in place," warned Jason without hesitation, "or it'll be worse."

Robin just nodded and prepared himself by biting some cloth that Jason handed him. He closed his eyes and screamed as he felt the waves of pain hit him, big tears formed and disappeared into the cloth.

A soon as all Jason could do at the moment was done, Damian fell asleep.

"Timmy, we had a problem," Jason informed him, emotions mixed with his voice.

Tim made an annoyed sound and was interrupted by Jason,"Damian got both of his arms broken and I seriously don't want him to stay injured in a place like this. He's asleep because of the meds that I found in here, but I wouldn't trust them. Plus, we didn't kill anyone so they'll be probably waking up soon and if the police arrives..."

"Damn," his brother huffed on the other side of the line, preoccupation very present in his tone, "We'll get there as soon as we can or I'll send you someone"

"Okay," Jason simply responded, almost irritated, looking back at Damian, who was spreaded on the floor. He took his helmet off and putting the boy wonder in his arms he sat down, resting Damian's head in his shoulder and covering him with his cape.

An hour later Damian woke up with a grunt, "shit," he whispered waking Jason up too with the sound.

"Don't move too much," Jason warned him, so the little Wayne just rubbed his head on Jason's shoulder trying to find comfort.

"I'm sorry, I should have noticed before,"he said to the kid in his arms.

"Don't be," he answered and chuckled, "but it actually was your fault."

"I know," Jason stated bluntly, taking all the blame on himself. There was a change in Damian's eyes.

"Hey," he whispered, "don't worry about it. We're a team, like hell I was going to let something like that happen."

"And here I thought you hated me," he answered, surprised and filled with guilt.

"Tt, I'm just bugging you. If I truly hated you, I'd just ignore the hell out of you." Damian added, fully awake but still weak.

"Wait, but you do that with Tim all the time, does it mean...?" Jason stopped talking because of the bat-shut-up-now-stare the kid was giving him.

"Obviously not, if I really hated him I'd just start to question his job. You see, while you are in need of someone who acknowledges your presence, he is in need someone who trusts his decisions," Damian slowly explained with a stern look, like it was obvious

Jason was startled by how much the kid was talking in such pain, but let him continue, Damian never talked much to him anyway.

"The only moments I truly intervene physically is when he's stuck or about to do something stupid." The kid added thoughtfully.

"Dames, you two fight like every day"

"First of all, Drake is 24/7 in a state of sleep deprivation, and he needs to get out of the damn cave from time to time. Plus I get to bother him, it's a win-win situation," Damian told him glaring annoyedly to the ceiling and continued, "but I'm almost always aware of what he's investigating. Being in that state can compromise the missions."

"And what about me, pup? Do you have an eye on me too?" Jason laughed as he saw Damian nodding in an odd manner, with unfazed but surprisingly warm eyes.

"I know where all your safe houses are. Remember whe you got pizza delivered every time you were in one? Yeah...and no sleeping unless I know everyone is home. Pennyworth doesn't like it, but I use the time wisely." Damian was slipping many of his secrets in that conversation, maybe it was because of the situation or the medicine, Jason thought.

"What about the girls?" Jason asked.

"I respect them too much to do anything to them, and Cass will still eat my food even if I lick it so it's pointless. I've gotten to appreciate our current Fatgirl" Damian smiled at the thought, "..and everyone gets enough annoyed with my fights with Tim so there's no actual need. The only one that never seems to be bothered is Dick, I'd have to really kill someone to for him to be mad at me and I think he would still forgive me."

"He would, but you don't want to see him truly mad. He's worse than Bruce"

"Really? He never seemed to be like Father," Damian wondered and perked his eyebrows up, encouraging Jason to speak.

"He's different in many ways, but Bruce raised him up and some things always stay with us." Jason explained, hoping Damian would understand him.

"Father is.." Damian started but Jason asked right away, "why do you call him like that?"

"What else should I call him, idiot? He's my father," said Damian harshly, making his question sound way more stupid than it was.

"It's just that it doesn't sound affectionate, I don't know," Jay said.

"Maybe it's because of the way I learned English." The kid said as if it explained everything.

"Wait, English isn't your first language?

"Nope, it's Arabic" Damian responded. Suddenly his eyes lighted up remembering something.

"The first Christmas I spent here was very weird, mostly because reading about something is pretty different from experiencing it.

Anyways, for some Dick of a reason," the boy said gaining a a hard laugh from Jason, "Father didn't let me go on patrol because Dick said that I had to stay home and enjoy the real Christmas. How the heck would I enjoy being alone? on Christmas? But at the moment I really didn't get what it all was about so I followed what Pennyworth said. And I'm not gonna lie, I actually had fun, but it was just the two of us, and surely Pennyworth wanted to have everyone already home as much I wanted." He made a pause, making sure Jason was listening and kept going, " All of you arrived later than expected and I was so tired because of the patrols of the nights before that somehow I just switched languages. I called Father Baba , he almost choked." A grin spreader on Damian face, but the pain could still be clearly seen.

"What does it mean?" Jason inquired mostly because he wanted to hear Damian's voice, because in fact he knew what it meant.

"It's something like daddy, more or less" the kid confessed, and switched his position to face Jason. He didn't look bothered nor embarrassed, just tired.

"Maybe he wasn't ready to hear it," Jason suggested shrugging slowly to not hurt Damian, but he managed to hurt him with his words.

That's when it hits him, the hopeless look on Damian's eyes, the pout on his mouth and the way he tried to hold back his tears: Damian was just a kid. Jason would call him that to annoy him, not because he thought that the Robin was one. It didn't matter how hard his eyes looked in the field, he had seen worse stuff in his short life than Bruce in his own, and the boy was still a little kid.

He had been programmed since he was a baby to be perfect and he had betrayed his mother by joining Batman, a man he didn't know, and Jason bet it was way harder that it sounded.

Jason remembered his time with the League and wanted to shout, he wanted to kill Talia with his own hands. He wanted to slap Bruce in the face and tell him that Damian needed him, that he himself needed him. He wanted to erase the bad memories out of his brother's head, but the sad truth was that maybe he'd have to erase everything.

Instead of saying anything, he just pressed his foreheads together as he had seen many mothers do to their children . Jason didn't expect the sound he heard, it was a genuine giggle. Damian Wayne was giggling, that broken kid. A kid that got dragged into a cruel world, that had no chance,no choice, that didn't think he could choose.

Jason giggled too, the boy's laugh was contagious enough to make him feel something tingling in his chest. He really needed to stay away from Dick and his gross brotherly behavior.

"What is so funny?" He asked Damian while opening his eyes only to see a pair of green ones staring him back.

"I can't explain why, but it makes me feel better."

"Yeah?" Jason asked incredulous, still the smile in his face

"Affirmative," the boy answered resting his head against the Hood's shoulder.

"Hey, pup," Jason called after a while, "do you like being a Robin?"

"Honestly? I don't know, but I have to do it. Father needs a Robin," he answered simply.

"No, Bruce needs a son. Batman needs a Robin," the man closed his eyes, "you've been fighting for too long and you didn't even choose to do so. Is there something you wanna do, kiddo? I know you're super intelligent and probably in the League they already thought you all any school could teach you, but...?" He inquired, feeling Damian moving nervously in his lap.

"I enjoy painting," the kid said, kind of embarrassed and proud at the same time, "Pennyworth says I'm as skilled in that matter as I am in sword fighting," he added.

Jason let an approving sound escape his lips," and that's much to say since you'd kick all of our butts if we were challenged to a duel, including Bruce"

"Probably," he answered, but didn't sound proud or anything else. It was a plain voice, he probably had bad memories about it. Maybe even nightmares in which he had to fight his family.

"Let's do something," he told his younger brother, "while you recover I'll do all of your patrols and when you're back on the game I'll ask you again if you want to go on field. If you want, maybe you and I can put our patrols together and if you don't want to I'll talk to Dick and Bruce. Maybe I can make them understand, you know, that way you avoid getting in fights."

"If I decide to quit, I want to be with you when we tell them" Damian stated, still unsure but determined to stand for himself.

"Okay, buddy" Jason answered, caressing the boys hair.

Damian fell asleep again in that position, curled in Jason's legs. Jason talked to the device in his ear.

"Timmy, how are we doing?" He asked, but instead of hearing his brothers voice there was a deep rage filled voice: Bruce.

"What the hell happened there? It was a simple mission, almost impossible to get hurt and you still managed blow more things up." The man said in the other line, not that Jason wasn't used to it, but one thing was getting himself hurt and other thing was being the cause of someone getting hurt. So for once in his life, he didn't talk back, he just listened to Bruce ranting and telling him all the stupid things he had done that night, and in all his life. He could hear the preoccupation hid behind the rage, but it was unreachable for everyone.

"Father," they heard Damian in the communicator, his voice muffled and sleepy, "no blame must be held, the trap was placed to be undetectable."

Bruce released a grunt of disapproval, but he sounded also relieved.

"I want the details of what happened when you come back, and you two are grounded" Bruce stated firmly.

Jason just couldn't contain himself and said, "Bruce I don't even live with you and Damian has both of his arms broken" he could feel how Bruce was about to snap again, but Damian snorted just before Batman could even start. Bruce stopped himself immediately and asked with an alarmed voice, "what's wrong? Something happened?"

"What? No, Bruce, he's just laughing. Have you ever heard of that?" Jason answered, looking at Damian in his lap, who chuckled and said, "You're an idiot, Todd."

[chronicbatfictioner]

Theater of the Soul - Chapter 6

They'd spoken in tongues around him, he'd heard. None of them knew that he understood them.

"<You crazy enough to take the boy away from him, you bastard, then you should be crazy enough to eliminate him!>"

He hadn't recognized the voice. But the language was Hispanic - a learned language, not a street- or birth-earned language. He'd suspected a white, upper-class somebody being there other than... than the horror that is the clown. He had not heard the reply, only that it was followed by a lot of loud noises. Ugly, loud noises. The last time he had heard those kind of noises, cops were later seen leaving the apartment next to his after taping the door with bright yellow ribbons.

And then he was leaving. He'd had no idea where to, or how. Just that he was leaving. Leaving all the noises behind. 

And there was a lot of blood in his line of sight. Only he wasn't sure if it was his line of sight or his own eyes. Maybe it had been him bleeding. Maybe he'd caused the bleeding, he couldn't be sure. He knew there were others - warm, soft bodies.

And then everything was cold and chilly again. There was so much pain, too. And he'd kept moving. Somehow, his brain had told him to keep moving, ignore the pain and just keep moving. That keep moving would be his best bet to survive.

Barbara's friends were... scary ladies, if anyone would ask Tim. Fortunately, no one would ask. And they looked... well, Dinah Lance and Helena Bertinelli looked like they'd just walked out of 'The Gladiator' movie set - almost complete with Roman gladiator garb. They were both tall, and even if Tim's brain said that Barbara would've been just as tall if not for her wheelchair, the two ladies still looked imposing to him.

The three of them, Tim thought, looked very colorful - with Barbara's flaming red hair and fair skin, Dinah Lance's platinum blonde hair and peachy-tan skin, and Helena Bertinelli's jet black hair and dark chocolate skin.

And yes, he did not hide his surprise well when Helena said that she was a primary school teacher. "Does that mean I'll have to call you Miss Bertinelli?" he asked, only half joking because he did feel like he was still in Primary School.

Helena was glaring at him, and Tim hoped that she would at least be amused.

"You're... what? Ninth grader?" she asked.

Tim frowned. "I've graduated high school last year." he scowled. Yes, he was small even for 15. But he still has time to get some much-needed growth spurts, surely. Like one or two - or a dozen.

She looked surprised. "Well! A genius, Barbara? Who'da thunk it." she smirked.

"I would. His grandpa was Jeremiah Galavan." Barbara said, almost smugly. "The guy who almost singlehandedly built the wastewater treatment plant in Gotham. Even when everyone was laughing at him. I'm not surprised that Tim has his brain."

"Here I am thinking that Bruce would only take people with high theatrical aptitude." Dinah Lance said.

"My parents were stage actors." Tim told her. "That's how I know Bruce. They... left me in his custody when they died."

"That's nice of them..." Helena quipped. "So close in the heels of..." then she paused.

"He didn't take me in to replace Jason!" Tim snarled. "I was officially adopted before Jason left!"

"He never take anyone to replace anybody," Dinah said, practically calming him. "Bruce takes orphaned children because of his own deep need to make sure you won't be lost in the system. Like some of his..." she paused and meet his gaze, "... earlier acquaintances." she finished. Tim suddenly got the thought that by 'acquaintances', she had meant herself.

"Matter at hand, ladies." Barbara reminded them.

"I'll go with the little genius bird." Helena stated, her voice sounded challenging.

Tim just sighed. He was not in the mood for arguing. It was already past 10.30 and he felt that they would be kind of wasting time if they were to argue on who rides with who. "Whatever." he said. "Can we go now? The addresses were arranged by location, anyway, and we've got some solid 33 thousand square miles to cover." he cringed inwardly, suddenly thinking just how small Gotham City suddenly felt.

"Relax, kiddo. We'll find him." Dinah patted his shoulder gently. "Bruce should've..." and she pressed her lips, willing herself not to say anything more.

"I don't disagree, Bruce should've asked for help back then. But that door is closed already. Now we move on." Barbara didn't snap, but her tone implied so. "We will find Jason. Even if it means knocking every damn door in the whole county of Los Angeles."

"Babs and I can start at the north side, from here onward to Antelope Valley areas." Dinah said. "You take the beaches?"

"Will do." Helena said.

"It's not like my wheelchair would be bothered with the beaches, you know." Barbara cocked her eyebrow at them. Her wheelchair was specially made - lacking the back handles because she didn't like to be pushed by anyone else; and has reinforced all-terrain wheels.

"Nothing to do with your wheelchair, hun. Southward are usually populated with family ones. While northward are veterans and otherwise." Dinah replied calmly. "They see your wheelchair and they'll be more inclined to talk than otherwise."

"Psychological query." Tim acknowledged.

"Yes, little bird, you got that right." Dinah gave him a finger-gun salute. Tim almost grinned.

Their plan for today was to prowl the homeless areas, as well as stopping by at Napier-owned buildings or whatever property he has. Tim was a little proud that Barbara did not shot down his suspicion that the reason Bruce hadn't been able to find Jason right off the bat would have been because Napier had somehow hidden Jason somewhere. He was not at any hospitals back then, and the only record of him showed that he was checked out of LA General Hospital a week after he was admitted. Bruce had even pulled all the stops by asking a load of favors from his friends to ask if any of the private rehab centers and/or hospitals would have had Jason there - to no avail.

Hence, really, Tim's suspicion that Napier was not what he appeared to be. Not 'merely' a stage critic, but was hiding something else. When the Harley Quinn club opened a mere few months after Jason went missing - based on the date of the accident and his last known whereabout as he was signed out of the hospital, Tim's suspicion was vindicated.

And his suspicion lead him to poke around the internet and unternet - the dark side of the web - to find out who the hell this Napier guy really is. Said poking around also provided him with a list of assets belonging to Napier, mostly in Los Angeles County area - much to his relief; a small number in Gotham. Dick would poke around at the Gotham ones - excluding Quinn's club - with Barbara's father, James Gordon, in the guise of finding a place for himself. James Gordon, the city's Mayor, would be a good smokescreen - no pun intended for his smoking habit, really - to hide their true purpose.

Tim has to begrudgingly admitted - albeit inwardly - that explaining the general gist of things to Helena was easier now that he has had time to mull it over and brainstorm it with Barbara. They have barely gotten a block away from the Penthouse when Tim's presentation of his theory finished.

"So how is it a brainiac kid like you get roped to the ever-glamorous world of showbiz?" Helena asked. "Yeah, I get it that your folks were in it. But you could've gotten yourself a scholarship somewhere, MIT? Ivy? I mean, why stay?"

Tim fiddled with the camera on his lap. The camera would be their cover story - building Helena's portfolio at interesting locations, or having her pretend to be a reporter if all else fails. "Why should I?" he asked.

"Why should you what?"

"Why should I go for technical stuff just because I'm a genius?" he pressed. "Why can't I be in arts, just because I can work out how a supercomputer works, or how a robot can move and walk and talk at the same time? Why can't I be a painter, or singer, or photographer?"

There was a few good seconds' worth of silence following Tim's questions, and he knew he'd stumped Helena.

"You're right. I actually never thought of it that way." she finally admitted. "Most of the kids in my school are average. There are a few with above-average intelligence, and they all tend to lean toward sciences."

"They do that because through science - things that has absolute, numerical and alphabetical quantifier - because they can prove their intellects through it. How about languages? Did you know that the English language - while the second most spoken language in the world, has significantly less amount of words? As in, it has only one word that defined art: 'work'. Bengali language has five, Russian has four, Arabic has five. That, to me, is interesting. Would you like to know how I found that out?" Tim asked, almost coyly.

"Okay, I'll bite. How did you find that out?"

"Jason Todd told me. People tend to think him stupid, just because he was a street urchin and didn't get to be schooled to show his academic skills. But he speaks five languages fluently. All of which he'd learned on his own by reading the books at the library. Is he not a genius, then?"

"Ah," she nodded. "I get it. There are many types of genius, and the more visible ones are those with science-based aptitude."

"Yes, that should answer your question on why I'm not interested with scholarships. I don't need them to do what I love. And what I love is--" Tim suddenly clamped his mouth shut, realizing his true motive in doing this. It has nothing to do with what he loved to do - taking photographs, sharing the printed evidence of things he could easily pull out from his memories with vivid details. Not because he'd wanted to 'save' Jason. Not because he didn't want to see Bruce upset and stressed.

He wanted to do this so that he could earn his place within the Wayne family. He wanted to prove that Bruce taking him was not a mistake. So that Jason would stop being mad at him. So that Jason would come home.

Before Helena could finish her questioning, thankfully, they were approaching their first target location,

[whatwouldfrogsdo]

Peeling Back the Layers (Part ii: After Hazeapalooza)

In terms of Fresh, this fic lines up with chapter 5, but it's actually more of a sequel to Mistake. It also repeats a part of Surprise because it didn't make much sense without that section. (actually it's more accurate to say that I used an extract of this for Surprise).

Nursey finally tells Dex about his bipolar

Content warnings: - Discussions of bipolar (including paranoia and dissociation) - Discussions of medication, and mixing medication with alcohol

AO3

Part i (does not have to be read to understand this part): Tumblr | AO3

“Oh, hey,” Skye said, glancing up as Derek walked into their freshman suite after class the day after Hazeapalooza. Derek raised an eyebrow. Skye was the quietest of all the girls in their suite, and he wasn’t sure that she had ever spoken to him directly before. “A girl came by looking for you. I let her into your room.”

Derek frowned. He wasn’t expecting anybody. Lardo, perhaps?

It wasn’t Lardo sat in Dex’s desk chair and looking incredibly amused as she pushed his pens slightly out of line with each other.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. He flips out if I touch his stuff.”

She turned to grin at him. “And here I thought you’d learnt not to touch other people’s things after I confiscated Tigger.”

“You didn’t confiscate him, you stole him, Lei. And I was three, you could have just let me play Barbie with you.”

She laughed, and jumped to her feet to throw her arms around his neck. “I missed you, Der-bear.”

“What are you even doing here?”

Her expression turned to serious when she pulled away. “Shitty rang me.”

It took Derek by surprise, sometimes, that Leila and Shitty were friends. He and his sister hadn’t overlapped at Andover at all, her being five years older than him, but she had been there the same time as Shitty. In fact, she had known him before he became Shitty, and it frustrated Derek no end that she wouldn’t reveal his real name. “What did he ring you for?”

“He said you weren’t doing so well.”

Derek groaned, and backed up so that he could sit on his bed. “I’m doing fine. I stopped sleeping, so I went on the antipsychotics and my first day on them they decided to do hazing. It just took me by surprise, and shit happened, but I’m fine. I’ve been taking benzos, too, just to be sure. It’s all chill”

“Have you seen a doctor?”

“I rang my one in Andover.”

Leila sighed and flopped down next to him. “Okay, aboowe , I’m glad you’re trying to take care of yourself, but you do need to get a doctor closer to here, and you need to let other people look after you properly when something happens.”

“It’s chill.”

“It’s okay if it’s not, though,” she told him. “And I’m serious about the doctor. If only because it’s ridiculous to have to drive up to Andover every time you need a prescription.”

Derek let his head come to rest on his sister’s shoulder and breathed out a sigh. “Okay.”

“Promise me you won’t deal with all of this on your own.”

“I promise. There’s a few people now, on the team, who know at least bits and pieces.”

“Including your roommate?”

“Er, no. Dex doesn’t know anything.”

“You know it’ll be easier if he does.”

Derek didn’t know what to say. Leila had no idea of the relationship between him and Dex, and trying to explain the complexities of how they got along, or the way that there was only a small collection of things Derek could actually talk to Dex about, was impossible.

When he didn’t respond, she just knocked her shoulder against his and pulled his laptop onto her knees, guessed his password right on the second try and brought up Netflix. Derek tried to remember the last time things were so calm and simple between he and Leila. Childhood had been arguments and tension and the constant feeling of being overshadowed. Even at Andover, the upperclassmen had all looked at him and immediately said “You’re Lei’s brother.” That had become his persona for two years until everyone who had known her had graduated. Derek wondered if what fixed their relationship was just them growing up or him finally going to a school where the only person who knew her was Shitty.

“I’m glad you came,” he muttered, and when she looked at him, he could see she wasn’t expecting him to say anything like that.

“Of course I did. You’re my baby brother. It wasn’t too bad a surprise, then?”

“Nah.”

They watched a film, and then two episodes of Brooklyn Nine Nine, and then Dex walked in. As Leila scrambled to cover her hair with the scarf she had abandoned on his pillow, Derek tensed. They had barely spoken the past couple of days — not since before Hazeapalooza. Dex didn’t look over at Derek’s bed as he strode across the room and dropped his bag in its place under his desk. He froze, head bowed over the desk, then a shaking hand came up to slowly fix the crooked pens. He turned back to Derek, eyes narrowed.

“That was her,” Derek said quickly, pointing at Leila.

“You always were a tattle-tale. Hi. I’m Leila. Sorry about that. He was late.”

Dex looked between them. “Derek’s sister, right?”

“That’s me!”

“He didn’t say you were going to be visiting.”

Derek scoffed. “Ch’yeah, you need to talk to me for—”

“Well, to be quite honest, I didn’t tell him, either,” Leila interrupted

Dex flexed his hand. “Oh. Just… I mean, no offence or anything but I kind of thought you two didn’t really—”

Leila snapped her head towards Derek. “What the hell have you told him?”

“Nothing about you!” Dex said quickly, hands up in surrender. “Just about your parents, and—”

Derek sucked in a breath. “Shit. Shut up, Dex.”

“What did you say?” Leila asked in Gujarati.

Derek flinched. “Nothing, just— Fuck.”

“Tell me,” she demanded of Dex.

“That they forgot his birthday,” he replied.

Derek flinched. “Lei, it’s not—”

“You ungrateful little brat,” she snapped, and he shut up.

“Is that not—?” Dex looked bewildered now.

“Ever since I went to Andover we’ve celebrated birthdays in the school holidays,” she told him, then continued in Somali for Derek’s sake, “And Diri knows better than to use mental illness as an excuse to be a dick about it.” Derek sunk backwards in shame.

Dex blinked. “That was a different language.”

The comment made Derek snort. “Yeah, ‘cause she doesn’t know how to say mental illness in Gujarati. That’s something we’ve only ever talked about in English or Somali.”

“Mental— What— How many languages do you speak?”

“English, Gujarati, Arabic, some Somali and AP Spanish,” Derek listed off.

“Oh my God, AP Spanish doesn’t count, you nerd,” Leila interrupted. “And fucking tell him before I do, because you need someone who can keep an eye on you so that the shit show of Monday night doesn’t happen again. You notice he wasn’t sleeping?” She pointed at Dex, whose eyes were bulging out their sockets.

“Uh… Maybe, yeah, I guess. But I didn’t think— That’s just college, though.”

She huffed. “Yeah, for some students it might be. Where’s your bathroom?”

Derek sighed and pointed the way she needed to go. When she had slammed the door behind her, he spent a few seconds pulling at the blankets where she had been sat. Finally, he looked up to meet Dex’s eye. “I’m sorry I lied about my parents. That’s not why that birthday sucked, but it was always the easier thing to say. It’s always what I told everyone else, and soon as I knew the truth about yours, going back on what I’d said seemed like it would hurt you more. I can’t— I don’t want you to think I’m a mess if I tell you.”

“I already think you’re a complete train-wreck, Nursey, it’s okay.” An amused smirk played on his lips, but he quickly seemed to realize it was the wrong thing to say, because he got up and took up Leila’s vacated spot on the bed. “Shit, I don’t mean that. I mean, you let me think you had shitty parents just because mine are dead, which is a bit messed up, but whatever it is, you can tell me, okay? No judgement.”

“I don’t know how to—” Derek shook his head and fell silent.

“Why don’t you start with what happened on Monday night. At Hazeapalooza, does she mean? You weren’t even drinking that much, so—”

“Yeah, but I was on pills that I’m not supposed to drink anything with. Well, technically, the ones I take every day say not to drink with them, but I know my limits with them normally and I can work around it. When I’m taking the extra lot I can’t. I got paranoid quicker, and dizzy and shit which didn’t help. But, uh, the short of it is that I have bipolar. And recently I’ve been slipping into a manic episode, so— Uh. Yeah, so that’s a thing, and now you know.”

Dex reached out and wrapped his hand around Derek’s. “What, uh… What exactly does that mean? For you. If you don’t— I mean, I can Google symptoms and stuff if you don’t want to talk about it.”

“Right. Yeah. Uh, well before I was on medication, it got really bad. I used to hallucinate. It was like someone was sat there telling me to do things, and I had no sense of why it was a bad idea. There was this one time I was absolutely convinced that me and my friends would be able to go clubbing even though we were fifteen and none of us had fake ID. Mostly back then it was compulsively buying things, booking holidays, that sort of shit. I don’t sleep, and just feel really pumped up. I could do anything.”

“But Monday—”

“Monday we fought, and then I found out something I shouldn’t, and I got about as stressed as is possible for me. I hit a limit and it’s like my brain short circuits, and I dissociate. It’s like having an out of body experience, but… less spiritual or whatever. It wasn’t too bad. Shitty sort of knew what was going on, and caught it early. The further I’m into it, the harder it is to get me out, but Monday I was aware. I don’t think I even lost any time.”

Dex frowned and rubbed his thumb over Derek’s knuckles. “How long can it last, then?”

“I’ve lost three days before. I woke up on Monday thinking that it was Friday. The whole weekend had just gone. The longest I’d count as normal for me is a couple of hours, though, if I’m on lithium.”

“And bipolar… That’s swings, right? So you have, uh… downs? As well?”

“Depressive episodes. I guess I have a few months of mania and then some time of just normal, and then a few months of depression. But I’m on mood stabilisers, so you shouldn’t have to worry about that happening.”

“Let me know if it does, though. Please? You’re my d-man, I’ve gotta have your back. I won’t ghost you again, I promise. I just— it’s hard to fight with you when we can’t get any space from each other to cool down after. But me having your back is more important than a stupid little fight.”

Derek sighed and rested his head on Dex’s shoulder. “Okay. Thank-you. I will. Let you know, that is.” He felt the brush of Dex’s lips over his forehead and he smiled softly.

“So everything’s okay?” Dex asked, “With your parents?”

“They’re the best. They’re both coming to family weekend, actually, so you’ll meet them.”

After a moment’s silence, Dex spoke again. “AP Spanish definitely doesn’t count. I did that, too, and got a 5 and I only count myself as speaking one language. It’s like knowing a bit of ASL doesn’t count. I couldn’t hold up a conversation with a native speaker.”

“Are you saying you know ASL?”

“Not much. Most people can at least do the alphabet, right?”

Derek shrugged. “You wanna take Spanish with me next semester? Get the language requirement out the way?”

“Couldn’t you just take Arabic?”

“It’s more interesting if I get to learn something new. We only have to do one course of it if we got a 5, right?”

“Your sister’s right, you’re a nerd.”

Derek grinned and snuggled into Dex’s neck. After a pause, Dex tugged on him so that Derek ended up in his lap, and lay back against the wall, cradling him in his arms.

“Tell me what helps?”

Derek hummed. “This is helping. Touch. It’s grounding. I have my blanket and Tigger for that too. Reminders to eat and drink and take my pills are important but I’ll probably get irritated with you for not trusting me to remember them on my own. It depends on my mood, I guess. But… Yeah. This is helping a lot.” He suppressed a yawn. Dex’s lips brushed against his forehead, and Derek lifted his chin for a proper kiss.

They sprang apart when Leila walked back in, Derek tripping over himself to get out of Dex’s lap, but she regarded them both with a discerning look and shrugged. “Hey, I’m not going to judge what you two get up to in your own bedroom. I’m craving Thai.”

“Okay, let’s go get food.” Derek pulled himself up off the bed, and looked back at Dex. “Are you coming?”

“Uh, no, I told Chowder I’d meet him at dinner so we can work on some coding. Uh, and I think I need a bit of time to process. Research. Stuff like that.”

Derek nodded and walked away without saying anything else. He wasn’t sure how to handle the fact that he really wanted to kiss Dex again to say goodbye. That wasn’t something they did.

[moodyf0ody]

Introspection

It’s March! February has been a crazy month, I think so? Or was it the start of March? I don’t even keep track of dates anymore, everyday just passes and I just try my best to get my responsibilities done for the day. Everything that went by has been a blur, but some of the events have been so significant that I can’t help but learn from them. 

1) Reflecting on Class Time I realise how boring my teachers are. Really BMS is so repetitive but I still don’t know how to apply so I really think our teachers should give us more homework, including more essays and case studies. We’re getting so much less than the Science students and it may be that the Social Science teachers think that since their subjects are a little easier to understand, they don’t have to pressure us. Of course we have the option of doing our own work and passing it up to them, but how can we know which are the best questions to attempt, and if they’ll ACTUALLY mark it?! Damn it! 

ESS is such a drag, the presentations in class are better than having her present. But still, it’s a damn Science subject, you’re supposed to explain the concept to us first, not have us speculate about it. How does it make sense that our teacher has to study before she can answer our questions, especially when our questions are PURELY subject matter we don’t understand from the textbook? I also feel like the textbook does not even explain things, it just states them. What even is ESS? Why are my answers so different from the marking scheme. How am I supposed to find the time to practice questions also? How do you apply the damn thing! 

Maths is fine because maths just always makes sense, I think? I’m not practicing enough and I hate that! I guess I’m so swamped with my other activities but I shouldn’t make any excuses. I”m not efficient enough. Nevertheless, my Maths teacher does not inspire me to see the Maths in the world. Bummer! I think that is her job! 

The languages on the other hand have been so so enriching. English has had me thinking about how people should use language to convey important issues to each other. It has me thinking about how powerful language can be if the user of it has something to say. If only there people who were willing to listen and dwell upon the words, too! But of course, since so many people abuse the language and use it to maybe hurt people (NOT constructive criticism), it could be disastrous. However, I wish my English teacher knew more about the world because she doesn’t seem 100% aware on global issues, OR SO SHE SEEMS. I want more from her, more insight, more cultural artifacts that I can refer to. Oh, but I was pleasantly surprised when she brought in the John Barleycorn piece and I took about half an hour just trying to read one paper of it. But I made the correlation that John Barleycorn was not a person but a drink and it turned out to be what the author intended. That was when I started thinking, shit, that’s how it works! Everything is a fucking metaphor, people ARE actually saying EXACTLY what they mean, but NOT EXACTLY at FACE VALUE. It just depends on who’s listening. 

My Malay teacher just has a way of telling us things, she doesn’t need to have tons of knowledge about global issues, but I think she would be elevated onto as Ruth says, ‘unicorn level’ if she did. I love the concepts that she uses, and her energy is infectious! I nearly never fall asleep in Malay class. We started on our Reflective Statements and Written Assignments, and I think it’ll be interesting for me to discover which issues I am inclined towards. So far, it’s the negative issues portrayed by Naguib Mahfouz in Midaq Alley. Midaq Alley is so much fun, it’s so funny, ridicules the Arab society, reaches out to women and just makes me reflect upon the many characters in my own culture. I feel like I am so shielded from the bad in my country, I need to find more holes to peek through. Btw we just got a sneak peek at what we’ll be tested on in Paper 1 and it’s really cool how it works. I can’t wait to do more research on my Malay culture and history to understand why we do what we do and say what we say. Why is it that materialism is so prominent in this culture, and women oppression, and social status, and religion is sometimes used as an excuse, and also how religion can be a saviour? It’s so very exciting! I just came across some twitter accounts of Malaysian designers collecting some of our cultural artifacts, and I feel a certain way when I learn about my roots. But I only see the beautiful parts of it, I haven’t taken the time to really go through the dirt :/ I’m excited to see how my teacher tackles Madame Bovary, so far, I’m not really a fan of it. I like the element of how Emma is so brainwashed by romantic novels though, kinda seems like Flaubert’s mockery towards writers who write to do just that. Hm! 

Econs is the same as business. Sometimes, it’s really interesting but I think my teacher’s VOICE is just so sleepy. I like how she provides us with a lot of materials though (kind of a lot). Some tutorials and calculations, and she mixes things up in class sometimes. We just started learning about GDP and I’m thinking, how the hell do they do it in real life man? Going door to door obtaining all the data, and with all the possible inaccuracies, wow I’m excited to learn more about Econometrics. Intimated as well to be honest with ya. Although I really wish she could make relations to real life situations, like the economic conditions of our country at least you know. I mean I don’t have enough time to do the research and exploring, I have 6 subjects, isn’t she supposed to give it to me? Make use of class time? 

2) MPAC Wow, I don’t even know where to start with this one. We had 3 weeks of prior notice about the MEGAFAIR performance. It wasn’t a normal skit, it had a theme, intended audience, NO fee, and it was a half hour play. Yeap. I had a small team of 20, barely any with experience and no guidance whatsoever from the teachers. But we had this one senior, and input from Ruth’s friends from sekolah seni. 

“If I have seen further, it is by standing on the shoulders of giants”- Sir Isaac Newton 

This is how we managed to come up with our masterpiece, Nasi Lemak Mawar. We had many problems with the storyline and the script. Our first one was entertaining and funny, but we didn’t give it enough thought. We thought that anything that kind of made sense was okay. Then we received some negative reviews, an especially terribly negative review from YK, but it was exactly what we needed. For many days our teachers were telling us, “It’s not - MEGAFAIR. Think about your audience. You’re supposed to be talking about semangat kejihadan usahamanan! We were not getting it, we were overattached to our script and we were uninspired. 

Until, our senior told us, your plot is completely unrealistic, no one will learn anything from it, it’s a plot with a lot of holes. He pointed out the exact scenes and parts of the plot he had a problem with, and we got it. We finally understood. So that night we called him to brainstorm with us, and he was so willing to do it. It was awesome. Ruth’s friend suggested a simple plot, giving the teachers exactly what they wanted. But that’s just it, before this our conflict was between what the teachers wanted and what we had. Which is in other terms, boring shit and some funny ass shit! And on our first night of practice, our story was incredibly boring. INCREDIBLY BORING. I was like, this is not it. This is not gonna work. We’re doomed. 

At the end of that practice, we gathered together and I was not sensing any excitement from the crew. From my experience, I thought that an indicator of an entertaining play would be that the cast are dying to watch their friends’ scenes. And I didn’t see any of that. Everyone looked like they had something to say, and someone mentioned that we bring a new character to life, someone who actually matters. I realised how in a play, your characters should impact the plot, audience or the characters. And that was really missing from our play. We started brainstorming like crazy. I felt so enlightened and happy that other people were giving input. And it was golden input! 

Later that night, I couldn’t imagine myself sleeping, knowing that my story was not at its best. So I forced Ruth and Haleens to stay up with me and build this damn script. So we got the rough idea of things and since Haleena is great at doing things impromptu, and so is Ruth, they decided that we don’t fuss over a script. We see what the actors do. Ruth suggested that we build the character around what Haleena and Syahmi could do as well. And later on, as I developed the script (little by little) I found myself building my lines around my friends’ personalities. 

Practice was lots of fun, and the ideas were flowing. However, it was hard because some of us had homework and other commitments sometimes, people didn’t really speak their minds. Ruth was supposed to be my assistant director but she spend most of her time just clinging to Karam. I hated having to repeat myself when people were not being attentive, and when people came late. But I found that delegating tasks really helped me, because honestly there is a shiit load to do. 

I got the inspiration to show her visions for the business from a movie I watched, The Princess and the Frog and made a little dance to it. I was committed on that, because I knew that would add a lot of value to our play andI was right. My friends were cooperative as well, but I faced some issues with the music. Thank God, from a movie I watched, “Ferris beuller’s day off” I thought of another song, an even more perfect song to play. And it was a great decision because it was so much more upbeat. 

In the end, I had to make a proper play so that the sound and lighting people could follow (I made sure to assign some people here!) and most importantly to get the flow of the play. Otherwise, you would have people talking over each other and lines that are kind of lame coming out. So a script is motherfkg improtant. Also, we found utility hahaha in doing lines without the script and actions in a circle, running lines lah. 

For backstage stuff, Amin and I carefully assigned who would be carrying what in and out, and we made sure we practiced these transitions, also within a time limit. This was the part that the audience laughed at because of how fast my actors did it, and how LOUDLY they did it HAHAHA. It was really funny. This part was super stressful, but the actors were really independent and they were mainly alert, even at 1 am! Also, I told the sound managers exactly what they had to do, and told the actors exactly where their props had to be and where they had to be. This took a lot of time but it was very worth it, because it was very smooth. We took the time to practice with the EVER SO COOPERATIVE sound and lighting crew and we were so relieved that we did. 

Then it was showtime, and everyone came to watch. Even my family members! The audience was roaring and they were so into the play. However, my mum said the dance sequence was too short. But people still loved it so so much! They thought it was adorable, well-thought out, easy to follow and a good way to promote MARA. I loved how it turned out as well, finding it impossible to accept the credit because I knew it was not one person. It was 100% collaborative and it was beautiful! I learnt so so so much from this experience and I am so grateful to have the support from Karam, Ruth, my parents. To be surrounded by the super talented and hilarious actors I had. For the ideas and inspirations from the art all around us, and from the people as well. I feel so much closer to the school because I have put in a little part of me inside. Hm.