#way too much confidence and not nearly enough jaded young adult

[im-still-watching-anime]

the guy they have voicing apollo in these trailers sounds like he’s about to ask me to a game of golf

[inkblotsandeggshells]

My take on feminine enbodyment and female empowerment

This concept of modern feminism and pushing men out of the picture affects me differently than the average woman, because I was raised without a dad. When my mom adopted me and my other siblings, she never got married and instead asked her best female friend to step in and help raise all four of us. I was very loved, but I felt that absence of a father all my life. It affected nearly every part of my childhood and teenage years, and it continues to affect my adult life. I wanted to get a boyfriend and eventually get married, but the only constant guy in my life was my older brother. Therefore, I had very few examples of what respectful, good, masculine men looked like.

When I was a sophomore in college, my roommate at the time showed me a YouTube channel called Blimey Cow, and they had made a video called “Ten Ways to get the Right Guy to like You.” I hadn’t thought about this video or this channel in a few years, because they primarily make Christian content.  I’m not a Christian anymore, nor do I agree with all the beliefs of Christianity. However, I decided to go back to this video two days ago, because I remembered how these creators directly challenged how our culture defines female empowerment. Specifically they used this video to present that challenge, with an emphasis on noting the difference between female liberation and female objectification. Some of the suggestions they made to help girls find the right guys included showing interest in their hobbies, supporting their local chivalry, letting the guys in their lives know they appreciate them, putting less emphasis on how much skin they show and more emphasis on who they are as a person.  As a 20 year old college kid, these young content creators made a bigger impact on my views on men, women and the hyper-sexual movement than I would have thought. As a result, their video gave me the nudge to dive deeper into this topic through writing.

When you first learn of the term “female empowerment”, it sounds attractive enough: women being seen as a force to be reckoned with, authoritative, strong leaders who are goddesses in nearly every way. Rather than being stuck at home to take care of the kids, women are encouraged to pursue their career dreams, step into more masculine leadership roles and “be the boss”, for lack of a better term. It all sounds appealing until you start to dig deeper into what’s behind the phrase “female empowerment.” One big part of how I discovered this occurred last summer.

In July of 2020, I chose to invest a serious amount of money to an online holistic sex course. It was called Well-F*cked Woman, created by a woman named Kim Anami. Through using the tools learned through this six week course, Kim claims to have helped thousands of people all over the world, especially women, to connect with the untapped power of their sexual energy. She believes that a big reason why people are as stressed, unhealthy and unhappy as they are is because they’re not having the right kind of sex. Moreover, they’re not having the right kind of sex often enough. Whether you’re in a couple or single makes no difference. If you want to gain body confidence, get orgasms or even heal ancestral trauma, Kim claims this course would teach you how to obtain all those things by utilizing your sexual energy.

When I read the information on it, I became very intrigued. After several days of listening to her podcasts and reading her blogs, I became more convinced that this course could be a big help for my personal well-being.  At the time, my goal was to use the course to heal some of the imbalanced sacral energy I still had. Hopefully, it could even heal some ancestral wounds I carried in my DNA. If I achieved that, finding a romantic partner would be more of a bonus than a direct goal. So when I received the stimulus check from the government, I used that money to pay for the course and one of Kim’s jade yoni eggs.

For each of the six weeks, we would get a video with a written syllabus to discuss different topics, most of which revolved around sex. One week we would focus on self-love practices, one week we would talk about the relationship between sex and money, another week we learned about food, etc. In that first week, I began the exercises easily enough. However, I also started to feel very conflicted about the information we received in this course. For example, in the syllabus about self-love, one of the first statements Kim made about women is that “most have rape fantasies.” Admittedly, I didn’t really understand what that meant or what it was, until a friend told me. Once I did understand it, it bothered me deeply, to say the least. As someone who claimed that her work helped heal women’s sexual trauma, to hear Kim make such a statement right off the bat made me feel uneasy.

In a separate journal, I had written down my progress of the course and some of the conclusions I had made about what it taught and about the woman who taught it. In one entry, I had observed that it seemed to take a lot of money to become a “well-f*cked woman”, by Kim’s standards. If needed, it could possibly add up to hundreds, if not thousands, of dollars. For instance, if you wanted to use a jade egg as a sexual healing tool, that cost $300. The six week course itself cost almost $1000. Kim also recommended using therapy injections to change your neural pathways, if you were a victim of sexual trauma.  Just getting one injection is expensive enough, but if you “need” more than one injection or appointment, that will add up fast. Sadly, such treatments are not easily accessible to everyone who wants sexual healing. It certainly wasn’t for me.

Additionally, a recurring message that came up in the course was that it’s important for couples to have sex more than once a week. In this case, it wasn’t talking about the faster paced sex described as being numb and fleeting. On the contrary, Kim wanted us to aim for the slower, orgasmic, breath focused sex where you’re working to maintain and build up a flow of sexual energy. While in some ways, this course educated people on sex differently than our modern culture, some aspects seem pretty similar to me. For example, one night stands are still seen as acceptable situations to practice generating this energy. We were encouraged to practice sex acts two to three times a week, to the point of becoming sex addicts. Also, even though Kim frowned upon pornography, we were still taught to utilize BDSM as a way to create polarity in our relationships. This was to make sure that “spark of passion” was maintained for the long term. Lastly, Kim would sometimes demonstrate problematic double standards when it came to showing examples of how to respect your partner. In one of her stories about “helping” her partner become confident with himself, she talked about making a point to touch his private parts in public, whether he was okay with it or not. If not, she claimed “it was his problem.” In my opinion, if they’re genders had been switched, she would have been called out for her disrespectful behavior immediately among the group.

In this class, Kim discouraged us from using substances like alcohol and drugs during the practice, because of how they damage the body. On the other hand, she promoted addictions to sex as something positive, as something to attain for as a human being. Whether you are in a couple doing the act or you’re a single adult who’s just masturbating, you were encouraged to have some kind of sex several times a week. According to Kim, it needed to get to the point where you felt you couldn’t go about your day without generating this energy. “What an addiction does is that it causes you to stop thinking,” says Michael Knowles, who was a guest on the Candace Owens Show discussing modern feminism.  “It enslaves you. It makes you prone to certain behavior, and when you’re not thinking, that’s when the people who want to grab power can come in and force it on you.” Too much of anything can be detrimental for your well-being, on all levels.  During a time where protection of boundaries for my spiritual life had become very important, this way of thinking pushed me to discover what kind of boundaries I had and to stick to them. In this case, it lead me to the conclusion that if being like Kim meant being addicted to sex, disrespecting the men I care about, and using methods of sexual control for the sake of “polarity”, then I would rather not be like her at all.

With all that being said, I believe the big question is this: how exactly does the WAP culture of free sex and female empowerment differ from the holistic sex culture I learned about in the summer of 2020? How does our pop culture differ from the Well-F*cked Woman course, in how we’re being educated about sex? In my opinion, one culture pushes the more superficial, fleeting benefits of sex in our faces, while the other pushes for using sex and sexual energy as a way to harness untapped power. This power can, supposedly, be used to energize us, heal our bodies, and manifest things into our lives. Regardless, both cultures seem to be more concerned with using sex to gain power than using it as a means to express true love.  Both cultures seem to encourage women to “embrace their femininity” by leaving their underwear off more often. Both cultures seem to promote double standards on how partners should respect each other and their boundaries. Both cultures still push us to become addicted to sex in order to have a fulfilled, happier life, because according to them, every aspect of our lives will disintegrate without it.

As a result of the lockdown, last year turned out to be most isolating time for us, and it was intense enough to put many people into a deep state of depression. At a time when everyone is stuck online and forced to keep further apart, this is when people in the online sex business—holistic or otherwise—will benefit the most from that loneliness. They can use it to make those profits and fill their own pockets. This becomes more obvious when you observe their marketing tactics, including the ones I noticed for Kim Anami’s website: unless you give me your money and do what I tell you to do, you will never be “well-f*cked.” Everything in your life will deteriorate unless you become “well-f*cked.” You will be a brainwashed zombie forever, easily manipulated, unless you become “well-f*cked.”As my friend Lee Yun would say, “These tactics are designed to create an empty void in people that can’t be filled.” In the cases of some individuals, even if they were to try, it would cost them more time, money and energy than they were lead to believe.

For those of you who wonder if I still keep up with the practices I learned from this course, I haven’t. At least, I haven’t kept up to the degree that would be necessary. My jade egg is sitting on my altar collecting dust, even as I write this. Because of the amount of money I spent to buy the egg, this is not something I’m proud to admit. A jade egg is a sacred, special tool that deserves to be put to use for the highest good, and eventually, I will find a teacher that can help me do so. I just don’t want to have to conform to this holistic “WAP” standard to get there.

Surprisingly, by reflecting on my past through watching Blimey Cow’s videos, I realized there are still some values about sex, intimacy and femininity that I learned as a teenage Christian that matter to me now as an adult witch. In my opinion, sex is something very sacred that should not be taken so lightly, because of how it connects you to your partner in an intense, physical and spiritual way. For me, I take it seriously enough to still choose to wait until I get a husband and to choose not to masturbate. Additionally, when I do have sex with my lifelong partner, it will be as much about him as it will be about me. This means respecting and honoring him as a man as well as I know how. In my opinion, if you encourage people to use something like sex to attain higher spiritual goals, but neglect to show basic respect to your partner’s boundaries about his body, then in the words of Jordan Taylor from Blimey Cow, “you’re doing it wrong.”

 Michael Knowles interview with Candace Owens on the Candace Owens Show: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ejWIEMs8ecg

Blimey Cow’s YouTube video, “Ten Ways to Get the Right Guy to Like You”: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iqF_PtugyBk

[kloxbian]

You’re my Little Secret Chapter One

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Category: F/F

Fandoms: The 100 (TV), The 100 Series - Kass Morgan

Relationship: Clarke Griffin/Lexa

Characters: Clarke Griffin, Lexa (The 100), Octavia Blake, Bellamy Blake, Anya (The 100), Mountain Men (The 100)

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe, Forbidden Love, Secret Relationship, Grounder Clarke Griffin, Sort Of, Opposite of slowburn, More tags to be added

Language: English

Words:11603

Chapters (as of 1/28/2020): 5/?

Summary: "Your Skaikru are lousy. They do not care for their people."

"Their criminals, Lexa. They only care about themselves." Clarke leaned back and toyed idly with her knife. "That's why we were sent down here instead of anyone else. We're expendable."

"It doesn't sound like your leaders care very much for their people either." Lexa twirled her own knife in one hand. "I can't say I disapprove of them sending prisoners, but it was not a well-thought-out plan. They sent children. The people will not approve."

"Good. Maybe they'll find better leaders." Clarke tilted her head thoughtfully. "Perhaps they can be convinced to join the Kongeda. You'd lead them better than they lead themselves."

"I'm glad you think so highly of me, but you'd first need to inform your people of our existence. You've had good reason to keep it hidden with the- what do you call them?- delinquents in such disarray, but they must know before the rest come down."

Clarke snorted. "Because they'd be so happy that I've kept an entire population hidden from them."

"We're back, bitches!"

People flood out of the dropship, eager to finally set foot on the Earth they'd only ever imagined. Clarke stepped off the ramp, her eyes scanning the land around them. She couldn't help the grin that stretched over her face and the small laugh that escaped her lips. The sky and the trees and the dirt, the colors were so much more vivid than they'd ever been in the dusty old books on the Ark.

Curse her resourceful mind, Clarke's awe quickly turned to worry. How would a hundred inexperienced teenagers be able to survive on a radiation-soaked earth with no supplies, no idea how to get food or water, and no idea what was even out there? Not to mention that these were teens; they'd rather live in the moment than live past the next few weeks.

Clarke opened up a map fetched from the few supplies they did have. According to the Chancellor, they were supposed to be landing at Mount Weather, where they would find enough supplies to survive and maybe even people. Looking around them, they were not at all on a mountain. Flat land all around the landing site, the only mountains being miles in the distance.

"Lucky we didn't die in a fiery explosion, huh?" Clarke rolled her eyes, turning to raise an eyebrow at Finn. His smile faltered at her blank stare. "What? You not happy we aren't dead?"

"Of course I am, but why don't you ask that to the two people that died in the landing?" She huffed at his idle shrug. "Hey. You see those mountains over there? That's where our next meal is. If we can't make it there soon, we're all going to die anyway." She turns back to where she'd laid out her map, ignoring Finn still hovering behind her.

"Clarke!" Wells appeared over her other shoulder. "I've been through the dropship and assessed what we have. We don't have communication, heat, and not nearly enough to survive the next few weeks. We have to-"

"I know what we have to do," she snapped. "We have to get over to those mountains or we're dead. End of story."

"Woah, woah, you're serious?" Curse these boys, another came up to them from the mob. "We have food. We can find water. What else do we need?"

Wells scowled. "We can't survive off of what we have! They expected us to land somewhere with more resources, not in the middle of the woods!"

"Woah, hey, back off." Another guy strolled up, his walk leaking confidence. "Jasper's not done anything wrong. He just wants to have fun, don't you?" Jasper hesitantly nodded. "See? No need to get so angry. If anything, we should be angry at you, Mr. Chancellor's son."

Wells opened his mouth to protest before the other boy swiped his feet out from under him, sending him crashing to the ground. His one leg was injured in the crash and he went down like a brick. Finn jumped in from the side, stopping the boy's punch. "Hey, Murphy. The guy's got one leg. Why don't you wait until it's a fair fight?"

Murphy glowered. "Sure, whatever."

Clarke watched him stalk away before Finn's voice caught her attention. "So, when do we leave?"

-

Clarke left camp alongside Finn, Jasper, Octavia Blake, and Monty Green, heading in the direction of Mount Weather. For now, their plan was just to scout out the route to the mountain, not engage just yet. They only had a few hours left in the day and wouldn't be able to make it back to the dropship by nightfall if they tried to reach the mountain.

Clarke held casual conversation with Octavia, Bellamy's younger sister, as they walked, Finn being the lead and the other two boys leading the rear. She'd been trying to recognize any of the plants in the area but none had popped out so far.

Finn froze in front of them, holding up a hand. He beckoned them forward, putting a finger to his lips. Clarke moved down beside him and her breath was taken away. "Holy shit."

"Quiet," Finn hissed, and they sat in silence as the deer grabbed leaves off a bush. Finn shifted forward to get a better view and Clarke winced at the loud crack of a twig beneath his feet. The deer looked up towards them, revealing not a normal head, but a deformed one, a second head stretching out from the first and covered in raw, red skin. It fled and left the group gaping in its wake.

Clarke was only shaken back to reality when Monty slipped away from their group to examine the bush the deer had been eating from. His face lit up and he plucked a leaf from the bush and turned to them. "Berries!"

"Berries?" Clarke stood to move over to him. "Are they edible?"

Monty popped it in his mouth. "Hell yes!"

Clarke snagged one off the bush. It was a little blue sphere with a small petal at its top. She rolled it between her fingers for a moment before reluctantly taking a bite. The flavor burst in her mouth and she had to hold back a gasp. This was the real deal. Not some artificial fruit grown in a metal room, but food that came from the earth and the dirt and the wind. It was extraordinary.

Everyone else enjoyed eating the berries while Clarke opened her pack and began to fill it up with as many as she could find. The corner of her eye wavered and she turned, hoping to maybe catch a glimpse of the deer again. Something flickered between the brush and as she leaned forward to get a closer look it vanished, disappearing into thin air. Clarke jolted back in surprise.

"You okay over there?"

Clarke offered Octavia a smile. "I'm alright. I just thought I saw something. It was nothing."

"Mhm," Octavia replied, already filling her mouth with more berries.

Clarke smiled in amusement but couldn't help looking back toward the brush. It was nothing, she told herself. You're just being hopeful.

Hopeful.

-

Though the berries were appreciated, they weren't nearly enough to live off of. Combined with the fact that everyone else was an asshole, Clarke decided to strike out alone in search of more food. Or maybe that was just an excuse to get out of camp. Either way, she headed out on her own into the uncharted forest. It probably wasn't the best idea, not knowing what was lurking in the trees, but Clarke didn't particularly care. Worst comes to worst, she'll die an easy death of being mauled rather than starving.

The woods were peaceful. Birds chirped as they flitted through the trees, the occasional mouse would scutter into her path, but Clarke much preferred their company to that of other people right now. It was stressful, attempting to corral the unwilling teens. They wanted to party. Wanted to enjoy themselves. What they did not want to do was listen to her. They'd rather follow Bellamy.

Whatever. She'd do this with or without their cooperation.

Clarke rested her hand on the hilt of her knife, tucked into the belt of her pants. She wasn't good with a knife, not in the long shot, but the only gun they had was Bellamys and that was empty of bullets. Her stealth wasn't the best either, but it would have to do.

A bird cawed loudly to her left and she turned just in time to see something peeking around the trees. It was a young girl, somewhere around Clarke's age, with wavy brown hair and tan skin. She froze, her jade eyes meeting Clarke's gaze. Clarke stepped back, blinking, and in that moment the girl vanished.

Clarke rushed forward, looking around the tree and searching the area desperately. That was impossible. Someone couldn't just disappear like that. They had to have gone somewhere, and yet the girl was nowhere to be found.

She was good. Or perhaps Clarke was just going mad.

Nobody had survived the apocalypse. Not on the ground.

Clarke was set.

She was mad.

-

"You're sure?"

"No." Clarke sighed heavily, resting her chin in her hand. "I have to be going mad, O. No one survived on the ground. It's impossible."

"Well, we aren't dead from radiation yet, so maybe it is possible." Octavia tore at the dried, artificial meat that was a part of the few supplies sent down. They were on their last stock and finally, people were beginning to worry. "Besides, shouldn't we be hopeful? If other people survived, that means we can, too. They might have food."

"We might have food if we could actually make it to Mount Weather!" Clarke scowled, waving away an offering of meat from her friend. "If these people weren't so self-centered we could be surviving rather than slowly dying."

"We aren't slowly dying," Octavia deadpanned. "They were prisoners. This is their first time away from adult control. Let them have their fun."

"They've had their fun. Now it's time for them to stop being lazy asses and do something productive!"

"Bellamy's been taking groups out hunting," Octavia said. "They haven't caught anything yet."

"Of course they haven't. None of us have any clue how to hunt."

Octavia nodded. "My brother thinks he's all high and mighty being in control of these asses. He's getting arrogant."

Clarke threw her a side glance. "Okay. And?"

"You should take his place."

Clarke groaned. "I'm trying to. None of them will listen to me. They think I'll be just like my mother."

"Then show them that you won't. Gain their respect."

"How?"

Octavia smirked. "You need to impress them."

-

Impress them. Like it was so easy.

Clarke decided at that moment that she was going to learn how to hunt. It would accomplish both of her tasks: get food, impress the delinquents. Win-win. If she could figure it out.

Clarke once again took off alone with her trusty knife strapped to her side. The area around the dropship didn't have much life in its radius, likely because of the scene that both the landing and the occupants had caused. Life was ever so slowly edging closer but not close enough.

Clarke froze as a rabbit hopped into her path. It surprised her, considering she was only a ten minute walk from the dropship, and the last time anything even remotely big had been seen it had been the deer. Clarke sunk slowly to the ground, determined not to miss this chance.

She moved slowly behind it, unsheathing her knife and holding it at the ready. The rabbit looked up from the ground, ears perked, and she stopped all movement, waiting until it looked back down. She edged closer. Only a couple more steps to go. The rabbit looked up again, turned to look straight at her, and bolted.

Clarke cursed under her breath. Had it heard her? Could it see behind it? She didn't know. Something had gone wrong, but she couldn't fathom what. Clarke would like to consider it bad luck, but knew it was otherwise.

She slipped the knife back into her belt, a frown set on her face. How could she ever hope to learn something if she couldn't figure out what mistakes she was making?

"You're too loud." Clarke froze, almost dreading looking behind her. The voice was unfamiliar, one she hadn't heard from the delinquents, but then again, there were a hundred of them. She likely hadn't met them all. She decidedly ignored whoever thought they could do a better job. She heard a snort of laughter. "You're too heavy on your feet. Your breath is too loud. You're unaware of where you're placing your feet."

"Alright, would you stop-" Clarke turned around and felt all the breath rush from her body as her eyes met with a familiar pair of jade orbs.

Chapters 2-5 up on ao3 here.

Second chapter on tumblr here.

[nextgenerationofmagic]

angsty relationship asks

do they have a lot of arguments? if so, over what? Not really. They used to before they broke up when they were young.

who apologizes first? in what way? is it hard for either of them to apologize? James normally apologizes first. For starters, it’s normally him who should be apologizing (when they were young, anyways). Claudia will often throw walls up as soon as she’s hurt so he waits for her to cool down a little bit before formulating his thoughts and apologizing. Claudia isn’t always innocent, though. It’s very hard for her to apologize when she thinks she hasn’t done anything wrong so she normally needs some time to remove herself from the situation and realize why she needs to apologize.

which one has more insecurities? over what? James projects a lot of confidence but deep down has a lot of insecurities. He is almost always worried about what people think or afraid of letting people down. Claudia has bad self-esteem days sometimes and is no example of being secure in oneself, but James’ insecurities run a little deeper.

who gets more riled up? do they show their anger? They both get riled up quite intensely. Claudia gets angry quickly but is also relatively quick to calm down or take a breather. James, on the other hand, will bottle up his feelings until he inevitably explodes. Anger is not an emotion either of them hide well. James has no poker face and Claudia will not act okay to appease someone else.

how do they hide their pain when they’re upset? do they try to hide their pain? Claudia HATES when people see her cry and will try to stifle tears until her body is screaming at her to let them flow. She blinks really quickly to try to rid herself of tears, but those who know her well know this is good as crying when it comes to her. James also doesn’t love when people see him cry and normally tries to make a joke or lighten up the situation (cheers to deflection). When he feels the tears coming though, he normally gives up and just lets it happen. 

who tries to make up first? does it work? It depends on who did what. They’re both each other’s weaknesses, so if James wants to make up it will take a lot of willpower from Claudia to say no. James is always slightly more willing to make up as he hates conflict.

would they hate-fuck if they were mad at one another? if they had a falling out? Yes. And they have multiple times before. Even when they’re broken up there’s always still something there. They can’t really let each other go and so that means a hate-fuck every now and then.

do they hold grudges? is it hard for them to let go/forgive each other? Claudia definitely holds grudges and has a hard time forgiving James. Claudia would have to do something really bad to make James hold a grudge against her. To be frank, he was normally the one hurting her.

is there something big that could potentially tear them apart if it was revealed? No. James kept his ~sexcapades~ outside of their relationship. He may be bit of a playboy but he would never cheat on her. She would never cheat on him either. When they were on a “break” he slept with someone else and it hurt her. She knew he had the right to do so and wasn’t angry, but she was hurt. She didn’t expect him to sleep with someone so fast and it’s part of the reason they officially called it quits.

if something already happened to tear them apart, what would make them come back together? is it even possible? At this point they’re pretty sure that they will always come back to one another. After they broke up it just took time and growing up for them to get back together. They were young and weren’t right for each other at that time.

what’s their favourite past time when they’re upset?

who do they confide in when shit hits the fan? Claudia will go to Jade, her best friend. She’ll talk to Dominique and Alice too, her other best friends. If she needs to confide in something about James, it also helps that they know him so well and can help her read him. She and her brother Aaron are also very close, but ever she tries to keep relationship drama away from him. He is fiercely protective of his little sister and James is already scared enough of it. James will talk to Fred or Ben, his (best) cousin and his best friend. He’ll occasionally go to his siblings too. Albus has surprisingly good advice as he gets older. Lily isn’t great at advice, but she’s a good motivator.

is it hard for them to talk about their feelings openly with each other? if so, is there any way that can be resolved, even in the slightest? No. Even when they’re off, or fighting, or haven’t seen each other in a while, it isn’t hard for them to be vulnerable with one another. They’ve been friends for years and even before they became a couple they were open with each other.

who grieves more when the other is away? Claudia. It’s hard when James is away for quidditch so she tries to just bury herself in her work.

who misses the other more, or really thinks about them more? Claudia is more upset when James leaves, but he thinks about her more when they’re apart. She’s good at distracting himself, but he can’t wait until he gets to see her again.

do either of them have a special item (an article of clothing, a necklace, a book) that they use when they miss the other? if so, what is it? what do they do with it (read, wear, look at, smell)? Claudia wears his sweaters, her favourite being his old Gryffindor quidditch sweater. She likes how comfy they are, and of course how they smell like him. Claudia bought James a necklace for his 17th birthday. It has a flat circular pendant with their initials on it. He never got rid of it after they broke up and she nearly cried when he revealed that he still had it. He wears it almost all the time, especially when he’s away from her.

who cries more? who gets more emotional in general? Claudia cries more no matter how hard she tries to fight it. She also gets more emotional in general. She just feels deeply and things don’t roll off her back easily.

do either of them have the other’s stuff lying around their house? James’ stuff used to litter her area of the 7th year Slytherin dorm which made Claudia’s roommates tease her like no tomorrow. Claudia’s high maintenance so as adults, once they got back together, James cleared a drawer in his dresser and a shelf in the bathroom for her almost instantly.

how about teasing? do they tease each other while in a fight (whether it be with themselves or just general teasing)? YES. ALL THE TIME. They teased each other before they got together and that did not change once they started dating. Claudia won’t tease him when they’re fighting, but James sure as hell will tease her. It frustrates her but sometimes she can’t deny when it’s funny.

do either of them have any vices? James drinks a little too much and does so to drown his sorrows (but he eventually grows out of it). Claudia smoked muggle cigarettes for a few weeks when she was 19 but looking cool was not worth it.

what’s the thing they miss most about each other? She misses the way he makes her laugh and the way he’s always touching/cuddling her. He misses their banter and waking up to see her.

what’s their go-to breakup/angst song? Claudia listened to the entirety of Taylor Swift’s Folklore on repeat when they broke up. James wallowed while listening to Asleep by The Smiths like the drama queen he is.

who’s more jealous? James James James. Claudia is quite jealous too, he’s just worse.

who is the first to forgive? Normally James. Claudia can be resentful.

what’s the one deal breaker for either of them (lack of communication, fear of commitment, etc)?

who would take longer to let go? do they ever really “let go”? Claudia. She does let things go, but depending on what it is, it can take her a while.

which is more afraid of confrontation? Claudia, who doesn’t want to confront anything until she has a plan. James prefers to rip things off like a band-aid.

who’s the first to distance themselves (if either)? Claudia. James does not like distance.

who’s more patient? is it hard to break that patience? Claudia is. And yes, she’s not even especially patient. James is just particularly impatient.

who’s the first to blame themselves? James. Claudia has trouble accepting when she’s in the wrong.

who’s more likely to do something out of spite? Both of them. He can be very dramatic and she can be very petty.

who would be the first to say they hate the other? would they mean it? CLAUDIA. God, James is almost certain he could never hate her. She will also never hate him, but she has said it before in the heat of the moment. Both of them know very well she doesn’t mean it, though (to quote 10 Things I Hate About You - “not even a little bit, not even at all”)

who worries more? Both of them? Claudia worries about life and random things more in general, but James probably worries about her more.

what scent reminds them of the other? Black coffee, wet grass (reminiscent of many quidditch matches) and a mixture of tobacco, cocoa, and ginger (James’ cologne) reminds Claudia of him. Pine trees (they have many memories tied to Christmas), ocean water, and a mixture of vanilla and mint (Claudia’s perfume) reminds James of her.

do they have any regrets (regarding the other, or just in general)? Regarding each other, Claudia rejects how easily she shut him out, how easily she walked away. James regrets hurting her and giving her reasons not to trust him.

who’s quicker to walk away if a situation gets heated? Claudia. She gets frustrated and wants to shut him out (but he normally won’t let her).

who is more prone to anger? Both of them, to some degree.

who cries more in an argument? do either of them cry? Claudia cries more but they both cry. She bottles it up for so long that she eventually ends up bursting into tears.

does it take a lot for it to get to the point of yelling? Sort of. Arguing it one thing, but they don’t like yelling at each other and won’t do it unless they feel like they really have to.

who sleeps on the couch? can either of them sleep without the other? If a fight is really bad James will offer to sleep on the couch. To this Claudia normally rolls her eyes. She’d rather try and hash things out before they sleep, and even if they can’t manage that she doesn’t feel the need to not sleep next to him. In times where he has taken the couch, she normally winds up waking up in the middle of the night and squishing herself next to him. They don’t like sleeping without the other.

who’s more likely to protect the other? James. He’s very protective of her, even when she doesn’t ask for it.

if one of them gets injured, who worries more? Claudia. Maybe it’s just because she’s never been seriously injured and James is no stranger to banging himself up. Luckily he has a good pain tolerance, but Claudia will not leave his side until she knows he’s alright.

who would be more afraid of the other’s death/harm? Both of them, equally. Neither of them are super scared of death on an every day basis, but the thought of something happening to the other makes them ill.

who ends up yelling first? are they always yelling when arguing, or do neither of them yell at all? Claudia, normally. She and James can both be quite loud people. They don’t like to yell but if an argument is getting to that point Claudia will probably be the one to start.

who would be more likely to save who? James, probably. Quicker reflexes. Stronger. Claudia’s more aware of her surroundings, though.

who stays up at night brooding? Both of them. Drama queens.

who has more dreams/nightmares about the other? James has more good dreams, Claudia has more nightmares.

who comforts who after a bad dream/event? They’ve both gotten quite good at comforting the other over the years.

do they think about each other a lot? does it affect their performance/schoolwork? Yes. Claudia thinks about him a lot but is good at separating work and play. Once James realized his crush on her at school he was constantly getting distracted in his classes and quidditch matches. He’s gotten better as he’s grown up, but he still gets distracted when he sees her in a crowd.

if one of them were to come back after a long time, who would come to who? would it go well? would the other person take them back? It could go either way. But they would take each other back. Every time.

[douchebagbrainwaves]

WHY I'M SMARTER THAN NUMBER

If we look at how people use the words wise and smart is a modern habit. And while some of the partners, tell them no, if you're a university president and you decide to raise more. But exponential growth especially tends to bite you. It's easy to drift away from building beautiful things toward building ugly things that make more suitable subjects for research papers. They walk around feeling horribly evil for having used a swearword, while in fact most of the money in the bank. Investors have a deep-seated bias against hardware. Most were emerging from twenty or so years of being told what to do in the new world we'll have in a few decades speak a single language. The point of the summary is to remind the investor who may have met many startups that day what you talked about. I doubt they could do. In this world, wisdom seemed paramount. Instead treat school as a day job.1 Old towns have two advantages: they're denser, because they are arrogant, and sometimes because they're noobs clumsily attempting to mimic the toughness they've observed in experienced founders.

If we want to fund more Airbnbs we have to do things in our software that they couldn't do. Empathy is probably the effort required just to start a company. And the same is true for funding. It's exceptionally rare for startups to grow. They grew out of things their founders built because there seemed a gap in the world. When a large tract has been developed by a single organization, you can take their word for it. I've wondered about for 25 years: the relationship between intelligence and wisdom do seem related. I can edit an essay or debug code in an airport. But we know that's the wrong metric.2 The web is turning writing into a conversation.

We're counting on it being 5-7% of a much larger number. Venture investors, however, prefer to fund startups within an hour's drive. And there is no correlation, except possibly a negative one, between people's ability to recognize good design and their confidence that they can take the very same kid and make him seem a more appealing candidate than he would if he went to bed discontented, feeling I didn't get to macros until page 160. Counterargument. You can either dig a hole that's broad but shallow, or one that's narrow and deep, like a practitioner of Aikido, you can usually find version 1 of it in a press release. It's the young nerds who start startups, they'll start startups. When a startup is choosing between an angel round. It is for all ambitious adults. You can't trust the opinions of other investors.

When she turned to see what had happened, she found the steps were all different heights. It means the probability of a startup.3 We Getting a Divorce? When a startup is only a few thousand, but those few thousand users wanted it a lot. When the city is turning off your water because you can't pay the bill, it doesn't tell you what we all wish someone had told you in high school? It gives us an excuse for being lazy, the other one is probably right. More important, I think, is to find good books. But this process builds up waste products that ultimately require extra oxygen to break down, so at the end of that. When VC funding dried up after the Internet Bubble, startups dried up too. These conventions weren't designed to drag out the funding process, but that's why they're allowed to persist. For example, if you've sold more than about 40% of your company. The next level up we start to see responses to the writing, rather than how or by whom.

To be jaded you have to do more than get good grades. The worst problem was that they hired bad programmers. When you refuse to meet an investor who will invest a lot, but will be hard to convince, might have the same justification. Even the concept of me turns out to be big like Microsoft. It could be shaped by admissions officers. An article about Sophia Antipolis bragged that companies there included Cisco, Compaq, IBM, NCR, and Nortel. That's the scary thing: fundraising is not merely a useless metric, but positively misleading. Even the most radically open-minded of us mostly do that. For hundreds of years it has been part of the traditional education of painters to copy the works of the great art of the past is the work of another. Because they're so bad, but everything built since is the worst sort of strip development. They gradually congeal in your head. Assume the money you need, so you have to think more about each startup before investing.

When people come to you with a problem and you have to be doing something else; and though businesses, their founders often know nothing about business. It's easy to drift away from building beautiful things toward building ugly things that make more suitable subjects for research papers. It's great for them if they can, because they don't have the pressure of other investors. Whereas if you're talking to a guy four feet tall whose ambition was to play in the NBA, I'd feel pretty stupid saying, you can always tell. Our competitors had cgi scripts. Both the Internet startups and the Procter & Gambles were doing brand advertising. The final thing founders want is to be learned from whatever book on it happens to be closest. When you're eight it's called playing instead of hanging out, but it's not hard. The prices seemed cheap compared to print, which was what advertisers, for lack of any other reference, compared them to. In poor countries, things we take for granted are missing. Even now, most people do work in which problems are put before them and they have to deliver every time.

The other way makers learn is from examples. When they think about how to set up local VC funds by supplying the money themselves and recruiting people from existing firms to run them, only organic growth can produce angel investors. You learn to paint mostly by doing it. In a traditional series A round. If you want to use Lisp, so much the better. So investors who won't invest unilaterally will have lower returns. Online video becomes possible, and YouTube plunges right in, while existing media companies embrace it only half-willingly, driven more by fear than hope, and aiming more to protect their turf than to do great things. Nearly all good startup ideas are of that type. If they wanted Perl or Python programmers, that would be enough to start a company. There's not much we can learn from Yahoo's first fatal flaw. Everyone would agree that you do not, ordinarily, want to program in machine language.

In the so-called real world this need is a powerful language, but worry because it isn't widely understood. The way to get a free option on the next round, if you could get the right ten thousand people to move from Silicon Valley to Buffalo, Buffalo would become Silicon Valley. It reminds you that there is an intersection—that there are more people doing angel-sized deals, because if your sponsor goes out of business. But that won't eliminate great variations in wealth, because as long as there were others that did? And yet, financially at least, that high level languages are more powerful than Perl 4. You not only have to compete against other bureaucrats. If an investor says they're ready to write checks again, they may not reconverge once the economy gets better. VC firm, you shouldn't meet even if you get $50k from a well-known startups began this way. So what tends to happen is that they don't lead, or that you won't be able to describe it as obvious, at least to try. Both self-control and experience have this effect: to eliminate the random biases that come from your own nature and from the circumstances of your upbringing respectively. I'm going to name them: type A fundraising. Sometimes you get excited about some new project and you want to find startup ideas, you're probably mistaken.

Notes

I don't know how to value valuable things. What they forget is that it will become correspondingly more important than the long tail for other reasons.

Emmett Shear writes: I'd argue that the most part and you have no connections, you'll usually do best to pick a date, because investing later would probably only improve filtering rates early on? Finally she said Ah!

Here is the other sense of getting too high a valuation cap at all. Maybe that isn't really working bad unit economics, typically and then stopped believing, so the best new startups. The dictator in the 1920s.

Thanks to Ingrid Bassett, David Sloo, Robert Morris, Sam Altman, Justin Kan, and Jessica Livingston for their feedback on these thoughts.

[xbostonsfinestx-blog]

Jade

”Jade? Agent Kerrigan?” The voice of the doctor sitting across from her drew her from her thoughts, leaving her to glance around the room to place herself once more. She had been in session for nearly fifty minutes, but his last question would send her into the depths of her mind. “Can you tell me about your childhood?” The man repeated, noting the manner in which Jade’s fists clenched tightly at the mere mention of the word. Right on cue, there was a beep from the phone on his desk, signifying the end of their session. “Well, I think we did good here today and we’ll pick up with that question tomorrow. Jade rose to her feet, still slightly disoriented from the flashes in her mind, drawing in a deep breath as the doctor offered his hand for a firm handshake. “Tomorrow, at 11.” His reminder was met with a slow nod of the agent’s head as she turned for the door.

Jade stepped out of the room to find her long term boyfriend, Orion King, sitting in a chair just beyond the door. He had known her since the age of seven and knew her better than most, immediately spotting that look on her face. The topic she didn’t want breeched had been touched upon. He knew not to reach for her, but to allow her to do this if she should so desire. The fact was, her childhood had been hell. At only two years old, she and her twin brother, Cael Kerrigan, were placed with Allison and Finn Kerrigan by their father upon the death of their mother. The twins’ names were changed from Giada and Vinicio to Jade and Cael. Their deaths were faked. No trace would link the Savastano children to the Kerrigan children. They were to be safe there, to grow up in a normal family, living out the dream that their father could no longer provide to them.

Jade took the separation especially hard while Cael adapted to his environment more easily. Jade decided if she could control nothing else, then she would refuse to speak unless it were to her /real/ father. At first, the Kerrigan’s would give in to the tiny girl, wanting her to realize they were not the enemies there. But eventually, the calls were not permitted. Jade would go long periods of time not speaking. Cael did not understand why she was doing this, but in Jade’s mind, it made perfect sense. She’d refuse until her father was sent for and then she would have her daddy back. Only her plan did not work out the way she had hoped. Instead of bending to the strong willed child, Finn Kerrigan decided to take matters into his own hands. If she wouldn’t speak, he’d force sound from her in one way or another. The first assault took place when Jade was four years old and would continue until her seventh year when one Allison Kerrigan would return home to find the man with Jade.

The coming months, Allison worked together with Jade and Cael’s biological father to put the charges to rest, as well as seal the child’s records. Finn Kerrigan died that night at the hand of his wife for that which she had found upon her return. Discovery would unveil that Jade had suffered for three years there beneath Finn Kerrigan, in order to protect her brother from the same. This damage was irreversible. Into her adult years, the aftermath was there. Jade was not comfortable with the touch of any person she did not know well. She would shrink back when an unwelcomed hand would reach for her shoulder. In time, she learned some of this was beyond her control. She’d have to shake hands. She’d have to accept that someone would brush against her arm on the street. Though she wouldn’t react, it would always shoot tremors through her tiny frame, flashing back to the years infected by Finn Kerrigan.

The question of her childhood sparked it all within her easily, as it never took too much to throw her mind into that place again. Lord knew Orion had been up against quite the feat there with the woman as she battled her demons for twenty years. But now, she had a whole new band of demons that would exist within her. Things she had seen, done, and taken part in while in her latest under cover case. Six months is how long she would go under deep cover, infiltrating the Martinelli Crime Organization in New York. Leaving her home in Boston, her family, her friends, her boyfriend, she’d take on a new persona. Her cover’s name was Juliana Castellano, nicknamed ‘Jaycie’. For six months, she lived a completely different life to take down the man who ordered the murder of one Velia Savastano. When the job was complete, a taped confession in the agent’s possession, she made contact with her handler, informing them the mission was completed. The next morning, Jaycie and forty-two other members of the organization were arrested in three locations owned by the Martinelli Family. Jaycie then committed suicide, as far as anyone else would know, as Jade returned to Boston to her life, finally able to move forward from the death of her mother, if it would be so easy.

Upon her return, she was given two pieces of information. 1. She was to sustain a series of psychological evaluations that would be taken into strong consideration to be sure she was prepared to return to the field after being under for as long as she had. 2. Things change. People change. Stick to the cover story that she was at Quantico running a special training there for the past six months and realize the reality she was stepping back into wouldn’t be easy. To ease in. Not to do too much too soon. Take it easy and enjoy some paid time off with just a few appointments along the way. It sounded easy enough, but was misleading all at the same time. Easing back in was far easier said than done. Jade was an ‘in with both feet’ kind of person and this would be no different. The first night back, she went straight to her boyfriend’s apartment, reuniting with him. It had its bumps, but was rather seamless, giving her a false confidence leading into other reunions. With Orion, he knew where she had been. There wasn’t a lie there. Though she didn’t want to talk about all she had seen and done, as well as much of it being confidential information, his only concern was for her return and their relationship status. Her brother and her best friend would be two entirely different situations. They had been fed the lie, yet the news coverage would say something else to them. They knew she had lied, or at least she thought they did.

Baby steps. Everything had to move slowly. Ease in. She kept reminding herself, but as she stepped out of the office of the psychologist, she felt the walls closing in. That night, she was supposed to rest. Orion had allowed her to stay with him for the unforeseeable future while she took a break from her twin brother. His morning spent at the therapist’s office had him working a later shift as Sheriff’s Deputy, leaving Jade to her own devices. She promised to rest, but eventually it became frustrating to her. When she closed her eyes, she now not only saw the nightmares she had faced in her time away, but the additional nightmares of her childhood thanks to the therapist poking and prodding at her brain for sport. A walk was necessary to clear her mind, though losing her clearance temporarily had the woman unarmed. She’d forever feel naked without a piece at her side, but the tiny keyring of mace would have to suffice. As she left the apartment, she locked it behind her, venturing a few blocks from the apartment building. As she turned around to head back, she came face to face with a man she had not seen in years, and certainly never seen without her father there at his side. “Mr. Reddington?” She whispered in that raspy tone of hers, almost taken back, almost sure it couldn’t be him, yet took that step forward to see his face a little more clearly. “What are you…?” She began, asking what he was doing there, though too surprised to complete her own thought out loud. Reddington

CHAPTER ONE: A LITTLE PUSH;


        Odysseus spent a decade at war. But his biggest battle was finding his way home.



      The soft hum of an idle engine, scent of fuel wafting into confined space. Veiled in darkness, just beyond the edge of illuminated sanctity; the tall stacks of industrial growth tainted planetary defense. A pair of vehicles parked parallel, reminiscent of olden film: how shallow and otherwise predictable. From this vantage, occupants of both vehicles exited; a team of four from a government-style SUV, black with tinted windows. A simple pair of men from the high-end sedan, also tinted. Rounding the front of their vehicles, both sets exchanged greeting before lights disengaged, cloaking them within darkness' gentle embrace. 


      As much as it pained to embrace reality, the world was nothing more than a great big board, a game in which leaders carelessly expended pawns, promoted their rooks, and secured their knights. The kings and queens would remain otherwise isolated, free to issue commands from the sanctity of exile. But the players? Always two. Two who transcended purpose and would dictate it to others; two who could put aside affiliation and see the greater picture. Driven but never ambitious, calculating but never vindictive. Surrounded but never overwhelmed. 


      ''Stop me if you've heard this one: a French guy walks into a bar . . .'' The voice, perfectly measured in decibel distribution, inflection marking gifted oration. ''Tells the bartender, 'Le mot impossible n'est pas français' before executing him. A terrible waste of human life, don't you think? Well, the French guy goes on to end a revolution, supplanting the French Directory with something more beneficial to his cause. Ringing any bells?'' There was a particular air of confidence, voice lingering amid the dull hum. A smirk stretched over countenance, one that humbled any notion Faust had of the deceptive Mephistopheles. The opposing gathering looked toward each other, confusion marking their disposition. ''Thought not. At the age of twenty two, a young Frenchman would change the world; Napoléon Bonaparte spread French influence throughout continental Europe and beyond. He did this through a mix of deception, manipulation, and unparalleled battlefield tactics. You see, Napoléon preferred to let his enemies make assumptions, their own false conclusions before capitalizing on these errors.'' 


      Spawned from darkness, weapons trained on the team — eight barrels belonging to assault rifles emerged from behind the orator, sheer surprise handicapping retaliatory response. To the orator's side, the original secondary component of the duo furnished the Glock 19 handgun, training it on the group's leader. 


      ''You see Matteo, I am Napoléon and you are the decrepit French Directorate; in order to flourish I need to cut the cancer before it spreads.'' 


      "I think you've grown c*cky, Mister Eros. You see, La Cosa Nostra doesn't just disappear, it doesn't get bulled, and it certainly won't leave New York just because you want it to. We're international and the moment I make a call, you're dead. Get it?" The leader took a confident step forward, chest puffed out. 


      ''Of course the Spanish ruler, Ferdinand the Eighth, attempted to resist French influence only to find himself . . . cast aside.'' 


CHAPTER TWO: REUNION;

      "It's done.''


       There was no response, a simple press of a button to end the phone call. Looking at the burner device, he'd pass it along to the awaiting African male, who placed it in his pocket. His eyes averted to the passing landscape, watching as the natural beauty passed him. Of course, the late hour endowed very little in the way of extensive sights, but it was enough. "Twenty minutes, Raymond. Are you sure you want to do this?" 


      ''Absolutely, Dembe. From time to time the tree needs to be refreshed with a little flood of truth.'' The Concierge of Crime consulted his watch, a habit earned from his time as a United States Naval Intelligence Officer; meticulous scheduling, each bit of his time accounted for, down to the last second.  ''It's been far too long.'' 


      Nostalgia would eliminate the impatience of being stuck within the vehicle, lost within dulcet memories. Of a father and twins. He had been a 'friend', if such a thing existed, before the Christmas incident of nineteen ninety ( 1990 ). When his wife had been killed, he was there to provide assistance. Indeed, throughout the twins' lives, the enigmatic man had always been there, a provider of sorts. Despite personal loss, he didn't allow it to taint his vision. 


       As the vehicle made its approach, the Concierge caught sight of the familiar face walking along the street. Stepping out, his shadow would follow, eyes constantly surveying the area. Dembe Zuma possessed many hats, but perhaps the one he wore most was protector. He had also been graced by Red's benevolent hand. 


      ''The years have been kind to you, Giada, but as I remind you: no need to call me 'Mister'. Our history is far too intimate for that.'' He'd remove fedora, bowing his head: a sign of respect as well as greeting.  ''We need to talk, get in the car.'' Gesturing toward the open car door, ''It's about Velia.'' The death of  the Martinelli family's patriarch hit the underworld with ferocity that matched any domestic terror assault, tainting the net of information for weeks. No one saw it coming, no one knew who perpetrated it; this sort of chaos only serves to enhance feuds. The death of the Crime Boss set into motion a war unlike any other.


       The vehicle pulled away, once more entering the safety of the road: constant mobility. ''Congratulations on your hit; no one knows what happened. Well, no one important.'' There was the faintest twitch of a wink. ''The Martinelli were among New York's most elusive criminal family, responsible for the state's major weapons imports, muling various drugs: dirty business. I'm glad to see them gone but it's only a matter of time before they link this hit to you. We have some work to do.''

Jade

Giada. The very name drew a breath at her lips as she would never find herself fit for such a name, though she knew it was her name by birth. There were only four in the world that would know this piece of information, yet only one would ever refer to her in such a manner. Raymond Reddington. Even her own father had called her by the name Jade to keep up appearances as such. Giada and Vinicio Savastano died at two years old. Yet there was something about hearing the name from Red’s lips that would leave her in awe of a name and life that was taken from her. The next name to fall from the man was that of her mother. The death of her mother, in her own opinion, was the single event that spurred all others into existence. Without the death of Velia Savastano, she would have been raised in New York instead of Boston. She would have been in a family where there may be violence beyond its walls, but not within. She would have been protected by the man in the father role, not sexually abused by him.

There would be no hesitation from the woman to join Reddington in the car. He was familiar to her. She knew him. Her father new him. Her brother knew him. Though she couldn’t place the last time she had seen the man, she did know her safety was not in doubt when with him. Immediately upon her entry to the vehicle, he was speaking of her position, knowing her to be responsible. She drew her lips tightly together, knowing she was to stick to her cover story. No one was to know that she was even in New York, outside of her FBI counterparts. But Red knew. Her father knew. Her boyfriend knew. And that was three more than she was permitted.

News had been flooded for days with information on the forty-three arrests within the Martinelli Crime Organization. So far, there were three that found a way to kill themselves, though one of those did not make sense. Jaycie’s suicide was planned to get Jade out of her cover and back to Boston. Another suicide was actually real, the only that was actually real. And then there was that of Martinelli himself. Though it was painted to look like a suicide, there was much speculation that he had been taken out, yet how it had happened within custody was another question circling the dark world. This should have been a hiccup for them. Something their highly paid lawyers could get them out of. Yet for Jade, it was retribution for that which had been done to her, to her mother.

As Red congratulated her on the hit, her head jerked to the side. Hazel eyes imploring his as if to say he couldn’t know that for sure. Even those within the bureau did not know that it was her hand that would fire the gun to take out Martinelli within the unit. “The way I heard it, he killed himself.” She reminded him, a slightly too comfortable look there on her face with the edges of her lips upturning ever so slightly. Jade wasn’t a killer. But Jaycie was. Red was seeing Jaycie in this moment, proud of that which she had done. This form of herself was not permitted. She was fighting tooth and nail to keep it at bay constantly, but for some reason, she’d slipped into that mindset rather easily when called out on Martinelli’s murder. “No one’s coming for me. They think I’m dead.” A quick reminder from her lips, from the lips of Jaycie. The words came out so easily, they left Jade in near shock over the matter. She knew she felt safe with Reddington, but this was too much and she knew it. She had to turn off that woman in her head. The woman she was trained to be. She had to be herself, which meant no ties to Martinelli. She was Jade Kerrigan. FBI Agent. She had been at Quantico for the last six months, running a training series.

-December 29, 2015