#there’s a weird thing on my dad’s side where if some of us eat quantities of chocolate we get weird anger mood swings
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I would read an entire book about icarus and asterion/The Minotaur’s happy childhood /)
* pockets your kind words and slides these headcanons back across the table in return*
- Icarus is a very energetic and outgoing child, but since his father was afraid he might be targeted by the black market for the potential magical value of his feathers he was kept hidden at home until he was ten and they were moved to the palace. This means that despite his personality, Icarus got overwhelmed pretty easily when they first moved, even small crowds and busy open courtyards sending him into panic attacks if he wasn’t careful and pushed himself too hard.
This generally led to him hiding in a quiet corner until he could calm down and breathe normally again, something Asterion realizes very quickly about his new friend and that he tries to help with. Icarus is mostly just very frustrated whenever he gets overwhelmed because he wishes he could adjust faster, but Asterion’s patient and laid back personality goes a long way to both helping him calm down when things get to be too much and finding quieter two person adventures and games to play while he adjusts.
- Icarus’s crippled wing has been that way since birth, though they arent sure if he came out that way or if it was an injury sustained due to a shaken midwife’s mistake since Daedalus wasn’t in the room for the birth. Regardless it has always been smaller and a little misshapen his whole life, meaning he is unable to fly naturally. Despite that though he is able to soften a short fall to glide just a bit though not very well, he carries his balance differently than other people, and his wings have a body language all their own that end up telegraphing his emotions to those who know him well enough to read them.
While he is actually a bit vain about his wings they can be a pain to take care of, his annual molt in particular leaves him scruffy and irritable and tired for a couple weeks. Normally he doesn’t mind too much if people touch his wings as long as he has given them permission first, but during a molt his father and Asterion are the only two people allowed to touch his wings since they’re extra sensitive and the extra help keeping them groomed properly is worth the embarrassment of it. (Imagine the embarrassment you might feel at not being able to effectively do something like wash your hair yourself even when you’re a teenager.) He eventually minds Asterion’s help much less than his father’s, in true teenager fashion.
- One dreadful summer Icarus gets feather mites and swears he’s nearly decided to cut off his stupid wings entirely by the time the witchy queen kindly manages to concoct a potion to get rid of the pests . In return for a dose of the potion once a year he often brings her a bundle of his best molted feathers to show his thanks which do indeed have excellent magical properties to them that she appreciates very much.
- The biggest bother when he is finally fitted for a wing prosthetic as a young adult so he can finally learn to fly is that he has to learn to rebalance himself again while wearing it which is exhausting work.
- In the original myth it’s said that Asterion, because of his monstrous inter-species nature, can only eat the cannibalized meat of humans, generally slain by his own bloodthirsty rage. In HC!AU however his mother discovers through her occult studies that this is not actually a part of his nature, but actually a kind of magically imposed allergy for lack of a better term. When the prince is riled up by combat or exposed to blood or meat an animalistic and violent bloodlust is magically triggered that overwhelms him.
His mother concocts an elixir that is able to dissipate it and bring him back down to normal as a kind of antidote, so they end up learning to manage the curse by limiting his exposure to triggers and keeping the cure on hand at all times. In the end it kind of ends up being like a magical peanut allergy, except where if you have a reaction someone /else/ could die. (Also the antidote potion uses Icarus’ feathers as one of the main ingredients! The queen isn’t sure why they are so potent in helping that specific magical recipie, and if Daedalus knows why—or even why his son has wings in the first place—he’s certainly never told anyone. The queen suspects that Icarus’ wings have a tie to Posideon like Asterion does, but she can’t know for sure until either the god or the inventor spill the beans.)
- The queen had this allergy theory since Asterion was an infant, meaning she always kept Asterion away from anything that might trigger an attack. The thoery was first proven by his first episode when he was ten years old. Icarus and the prince had snuck off during a festival that was happening on the royal grounds and Icarus, upon them finding a foreign kebab vendor who apparently hadn’t gotten the strict no-meat-served-at-the-palace-memo, insisted Asterion try venison.
This of course very quickly devolved into an extremely dangerous situation that involved a hasty emergency evacuation, ten wounded royal guards, twenty damaged vendor stalls, and three weeks of a very distraught emotional recovery for both Icaurus and the prince after the queen was able to get close enough to intervene with the prepared antidote. The queen explains her now confirmed theory to them both, assuring them that it wasn’t either of their faults and noting curiously that even at the very worst of it Asterion never attempted to harm either Icarus or the queen during his rage, which provides all three of them a small comfort at least for future potential episodes, though all of them are shaken for a good while afterward.
- After that Asterion steers clear of any accidental snacks and doesn’t have another episode of note of real note until he’s in his twenties since as he gets older he gets better at controlling himself when he feels an episode coming and is generally able to remove himself from the situation. Instead of learning to fight like most royalty would (and after seriously accidentally injuring a wrestling instructor with his inhuman strength) Asterion instead does solo exercise training like running and weightlifting, getting safe practice at controlling and settling himself whenever his adrenaline starts to spike so that he doesn’t need the cure every time. He also never learns to ride since no horse has ever let him closer than the seat of a chariot, understandably spooked by his appearance.
- Aforementioned second largest episode occurs when a disastrously brave/foolish sell sword accepts a contract to kidnap the prince’s royal companion either dead or alive for a magically inclined client willing to pay a fortune for his feathers. When Asterion is woken in the middle of the night to find a struggling and injured Icarus being dragged out a window by a hooded stranger, the prince loses it completely and absolutely slaughters the assassin. Like, as in no one ever discovers who the man was since later what’s left of him is far beyond a state even resembling recognizable.
Asterion is so far gone in his rage that not even the queen is able to get close for hours afterward since the distraught Asterion won’t let anyone near the wounded and unconscious Icarus, trying to rip apart anyone or anything who gets too close. The situation is only diffused once the drugged Icarus is able to shakily regain consciousness enough to gently talk the prince down enough to take the antidote.
#Icarus#Asterion#happychildhood!au#is this based on my own chocolate allergy?#perhaps loosely#there’s a weird thing on my dad’s side where if some of us eat quantities of chocolate we get weird anger mood swings#I mean luckily I’ve never actually ripped someone apart but there’s precedence there
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MARRIEGE ARRANGED CHAPTER 3
It had been 10 days since you spoke with George for the last time, your mother kept sending owls asking if things were going well with you tow, and you only gave vague answers, you suppose George did the same with his mother, because if you knew Molly Weasley you knew she would do her best to see you two get along. Your work was very good, more than you had even imagined, getting along with your colleagues was difficult, not that you were antisocial or a hermit, or that they were rude to you, it had always been a bit difficult for you to make friends or start a conversation first, and now with your head in your 'commitment' or how to break it, and spend the nights remembering your childhood looking for some simple detail or clue that George was there, it was difficult to try to establish a relationship of camaraderie with your colleagues, except for one, Niles, is not that you completely disliked the guy, it was simply too heavy, always after you, wanting to talk, again it is not that it bothered you,but the fact that he stood too close invading your personal space, he touched too 'subtly', which made you feel uncomfortable, one day it was too far for your liking, taking as a pretext that you were standing having some coffee near the shelf where the others kept their cups put a reloaded hand very close to one side of your hip and with the other took a cup that was near the other side of your head , you smiled nervously and wanted to move but he did not take a step, you tried again moving the hand that was next to your hip but only took firmer the furniture.
"Niles if you excuse me, this makes me feel uncomfortable" he just smiled halfway and brought his mouth to your ear that made your get goosebumps feeling fear and disgust
"Come on, don't say you don't like it" before you could say something he interrupted you "and don't come with the fiance's story, because clearly there isn't a ring in your hand" yes you had told Nilles that you were engaged, not that you have done it for pleasure, but as a way to make it go back in his attitudes towards you, but it was true you did not have a ring and it is not as if you wanted one and less of George, at that moment you felt his lips too close to your neck , you closed your eyes and just like that you appeared elsewhere.
"For Merlin, you took the shit out of me" you heard George's voice and slowly opened your eyes, you were in an office, well it seemed like a small laboratory, you supposed it was where all the 'magic' behind their products was happening, but what were you doing there? Well you had been in the store but never in all the places of this one, you looked again at George who was waiting for an answer, so you stood straight and cleared your throat.
"What? Can't I visit my ‘fiance’ at work? “ It was a lie, a vile lie but you wouldn't even tell him what had happened seconds before and that you didn't know why you got to where he was, he would probably laugh at you and bother you for Niles, George just shrugged and he turned to the potion he was doing before, George was not stupid, he knew something was wrong, but he did not want to make you talk, he had things to do and probably being the stubborn you are, it would all end in screams and frankly he was not for that at the moment, days ago he had slept very little, thinking about the matter, your subject, why did he remember that about you, why couldn't he remember more? The whole thing between both of you didn't leave him alone and it didn't help that Molly will ask him every hour of the day how things were going, sending owls or show up suddenly, to which George lied saying that they were better and you were getting along, what it seemed you also said because her mother seemed happy with the answer, although he did not know how long it would last, since when she came to the store or him apartment you was never there, he was lying saying that you had many things in your work, which seemed to calm her again, Fred, Fred didn't help at all, he just joked about his situation and said that George's lack of concentration was for love.
"What are you trying to do with that?" Your voice took him out of his thoughts again, now you were standing next to him looking interested in what he was doing, your closeness for a moment made him nervous but he answered
"It is a potion that we will put in this candy, and the person who eats it their head will inflate like a balloon"
"Nice, but ..." George looked sideways at you "that's going to explode"
"Of course it won't explode," he said angrily and indignantly.
"It will, the potion is fine in itself, but the amount of ingredients is incorrect, give it to someone and boom! instant explosion" George was going to start arguing with you when Fred entered the room rubbing his hands
"Georgie ready the test of the new ... y/n?" Fred frowned looking at you, you just greeted him with a gesture with your hand and kept seeing the potion, he look at George who just shrugged
"Not ready, this will explode"
"It will not explode"
"Yes"
"No"
"Yes, you wanna hear it in spanish? si"
"not"
Fred just watched each other until George took the candy and handed it to him, "try it on" Fred looked at the candy suspiciously
"I don't want to explode"
"You won't, who will you believe your dear brother or she who doesn't know anything about this?" Fred looked fearfully at the candy and before he could do something you took it and put it in a jar where you put a solution saying a spell that turned it into a liquid similar to saliva and after 10 seconds boom, Fred and George looked at the action with surprise, and you look especially at George saying I told you
"You were going to kill me," Fred said dramatically, George rolled his eyes.
"You would not have died, maybe you would have lost some teeth" you said looking again at the potion and throwing things to make a new one "I told you, the potion is fine, but you did not pay attention to the ingredients" said without looking to any of the twins and getting to work on the potion
"Our George is very distracted lately" George hit his brother who had a mocking smile on his face, after a while watching you working, and then you happily turning to look at them and giving them the finished candy, Fred looked at George expectantly and then you
"Come on, you think I would be able to blow you up, I've never had a bad idea," you said proudly.
"Of course and the idea of lighting all the Muggle fireworks that Dad had gotten us and that almost caused us to set the house on fire was the idea of one of us" George said rolling his eyes, before you could say something about that memory that came to his mind the moment George said it, Fred took the candy and put it in his mouth closing his eyes tightly, after 10 seconds and no burst, Fred opened his eyes and the other two looked at him expectantly, at that moment his head began to swell in parts, first the nose and his ears and after 1 minute Fred's head was the size of a medium balloon, the three looked at each other smiling, George and you got a high five
"Great, how long will it last?" Fred's voice came out as if he had sucked helium
"A half hour or so, if you want it to last longer you just have to add more quantity" you shrugged proudly
“This girl is great Georgie, marry her”
"I have no other choice" George smiled halfway and and you hit him in the chest, but this moment was not like the previous ones, it was almost pleasant, after a while looking at the next projects of the twins and while Fred's head It was beginning to deflate.
"It's a bit late, I should go home," you said, as the twins closed the store, the afternoon had passed quickly and pleasantly in the company of George and of course Fred, before you could say anything else, you noticed how Fred hit with the elbow to George and muttering things, you watched them frowning.
"You can stay," said George, "to dinner, I mean." Fred rolled his eyes and you looked at both.
"you can stay forever" Fred say and received a hit from George
"I don't want to be a bother"
"You're not," George yelled a little too fast and too loudly, so Fred went to the rescue of his brother
"Mom has been sending too much food, since your fiance says you spend time here, so we have too much and it would be worth not to lie to Mom for a change for once" Fred smiled at you, you looked at George
"Ok" you said a little hesitantly
“Great,” said Fred, who pushed you toward the stairs to get to the apartment that was above the store, where they lived, you saw George sideways and he had a small smile on his face. After eating a substantial dinner, and some beers later, you and the twins were sitting in the living room, chatting pleasantly.
"I need to ask this," Fred said, looking at George and you seriously, "can't you really remember?" You looked at each other and then at Fred, you just shook your head
"Not ring any bells" said George, "you thought we were lying when we said it", Fred shrugged
"Well you were always a little weird among you when we were children, to be honest, I was somewhat jealous" they both looked at him with a frown "Both were my best friends, I had this special bond with George because he is also my brother and a bond special with you for being my friend, but I never had what you had, it was as if it could be a room full of people who are having fun who are happy, but there was always this bond between you two, nothing mattered ” the silence between everyone was obvious "well it's too late for me, I'll go to sleep" when Fred said this, you got up from the couch ready to go "no, no, you love birds stay, I think you have things to talk about" you slowly sat down again and looked to George "good night" you both replied quietly to Fred
"Another beer?" Asked George, you just nodded, while he went for it, you walked a little through the apartment, without realizing it you came to a room where a piano was located, which you thought was weird, however you approached and you sat on his bank. "so now we like to snoop in other people's homes?" His voice made you jump a little
"I'm sorry, it just seemed a little weird that this was here" George came over and sat next to you on the piano bench, giving you the beer you took it and had a drink
"It was here when we moved," he said with a shrug, "Dad likes to play it every time he comes, he loves muggle things, even though it sounds awful" you laughed a little and put the beer on top of the piano, ran your fingers through the keys "can you play it?"
"A little, my grandfather taught me a few songs" you said without looking at him and you started playing a song that you liked a lot when your grandfather showed it to you as a child, you didn't even realize that you did it, not even the way that George saw you.
"Wow, that was great" you smiled a little and took your beer for a drink "what's the name of that song?"
"Canon in C" staring into his eyes while he smiled at you, you asked "why?"
"Why what?" Said George frowning.
"Why can you remember things about me, but I can't remember a single thing about you, it drives me crazy, and I want to do something that drives me even more crazy"
"What do you want to do?" You drank your beer in one stroke "hey easy tiger" you inhaled and released the air loudly and deeply, you took George's face with your hands and while he saw you weirdly, you kissed him, and you didn't know why you did and did not understand anything, only something inside you wanted it, and when you realized what you had done, you separated scared of him, you looked at him with wide eyes just like he saw you. "I'm drunk" was what you said before disappearing from there and appearing in your apartment.
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and that's it for now folks I hope you reach my references of teen wolf and mulan hahhaha and again sorry for my grammar, english is not my first language lots of love
#george weasley#george weasley x reader#reader#original#original character#marriege arranged#hp#fred weasley#fiction#fanfic#HarryPotter#jk rowling
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New Akusai fanfic!!!
It got inspired by sophkat7 on twitter!!
I got a bit carried away and HERE WE ARE!!
If you want an easier access, you can also check the fic on my AO3 just here => | °| <=
A legend said there was a World, lost among many and many and many other Worlds, where special fruits grew on trees. If you shared one of them with someone, your fate will be linked forever with them.
“Come on, Axel, pleaaaaaase!!! Everybody will go there!!! Pence, Hayner and Olette will go there!! Pleaaaaaaaaaaaaaaase!!”
Isa could hear those pleas as he was putting down the huge pot of soup on the table.
A few instants after, Lea appeared in the dinner room thought Isa didn’t have called for his family to come. His look slid along the deep plates perfectly lined with spoon around and the little bowl with homemade croutons smelling garlic lying in there.
“Uuuuuuh… there is a party in Destiny Islands,” he said, looking annoyed.
“Is there?” Isa replied with a smirk.
“Yeah. Uh… Everybody will go there.” He rubbed his hair. “Pence, Hayner, Olette, Aqua, Terra, Donald, Goofy, Mickey… Ventus, Naminé, Kairi, Riku.”
Isa stared him, still wearing a smile on his lips.
“And so, I thought we could go there. Staying at night?”
“They have school tomorrow,” Isa replied.
“I know buuuuut, if we leave early enough? Or maybe using a cordorfdakness,” he mumbled.
Isa leaned toward him.
“Excuse me?” he said. “I didn’t understand what you tried to hide me.”
Lea sighed and sat next to him.
“I know you’d say no.” He watched everything on the table. “Can you be the mean parents and tell them we can’t go?”
“I never say ‘no’,” Isa pointed out.
Lea looked up at him, surprised.
“You didn’t?”
“I didn’t,” Isa replied. “For once, why not.”
“You’re amazing! I love you!”
Lea jumped on his feet and kissed his favorite blue guy.
After the party on the beach, Himiko and Toya, Sora’s parents, alongside with Shiraki, Riku’s dad, and Madam Minami Mira, the Mayor, invited everybody for a big meal. It has been cheerful with such an amount of food, you couldn’t even imagine people having that much. And yet, because Kairi, Riku and Sora’s close friends hadn’t been invited for the said party. It was barely possible to imagine more fishes turned into soft filet or balls in sweet sausage, neither such amount of salad or just potatoes in varied form. Really, Lea never saw that.
Almost never saw that.
Because, once, he saw such a quantity served at Isa’s table. The difference was that, here, they were more than thirty and at Isa’s they were only three…
The hosts were undoing the table, giggling and joking as the kids were in Kairi’s room. They were in the Mayor’s house because it was the bigger one. And Naminé lived here with Kairi. Because she liked that. Because she wanted to see Riku and be with the memories she thought be hers…
Wished be hers.
Lea approached Isa who helped with the tidying. He had nothing else to do and if he could help someone, he’d gladly do it.
“Do you think we can go grab ice cream?” Lea asked to him, pressing a kiss on his cheek.
“We will take the coffee,” Himiko said, next to them.
If Lea had tried to be discrete, she had heard it and was friendly smiling.
And so, the former Assassin was surprised. It was addressed to him, right? His doubts were so big, he showed himself tilting a little his head on the side.
“Yes. You prefer a tea?” she wondered.
“I… uh…”
“It’s the first time Lea is invited to a dinner,” Isa informed politely as he was taking the last plate on the table.
“Y… Yeah.”
“Oh! Don’t worry!” she smiled. “We will take a coffee, or a tea, and chat a little. Between adult. And then, the dessert if the kids feel it. If not, I think you can go read them a story or… whatever you’re doing there.”
She smiled even more and Lea was even more lost. They will not play with the teenagers while eating ice cream?
He started to understand why Mickey left with Goofy and Donald! He didn’t want to be trapped in formality.
Aqua and Terra would take the coffee with them but… still.
“Do you want a hot cocoa?” Isa wondered.
“No, no… I… I will take the same as Isa. Please?”
“I’ll take some tea, please,” Isa smiled politely. “And the sugar pot, please.”
“Of course. There are a few flavors, I’ll show them to you, don’t worry!”
Lea felt so bad as she was walking away to prepare the coffee and tea. All of this was so weird… so weird. Coffee and tea in place of dessert? In place of playing with the others?! It was mean!
And he felt so incredibly stupid.
“Coffee and Tea? And what do we do now?”
“Don’t worry, Lea,” Isa said as he brought the dirty dishes to the kitchen. “We will just talk around the drink.”
“Talk of… what?”
“Things.”
“I’m not sure I can hold the conversation,” Lea said, walking next to him. “Do you want me to take that?”
Isa gave him the plates though they were almost at the big sink filled with soapy water.
“Thank you.” Isa kissed softly his cheek. “You’re perfect, Lea. They will love your chatting no matter what.”
“You say that because you love me,” he replied.
“It’s a little correct. But you own my Heart because you’re absolutely wonderful.”
He smiled tenderly to him and went back to help the others with the tidying.
Pressing himself on the side, Lea smiled a bit to Himiko who slid hot water in his cup. Immediately, the little bag of red fruits freed steams there and they swirled around. He waited just one minute while the others were talking about the educations of the children. Who was learning what, what about the notes? How many comrades they had, etc.
Lea sipped his tea. And took the sugar pot to slid one full spoon. And more. Two. Three. Four… he noticed the look of his lover, which was on him, and he smirked slightly to him. Isa bent and took a few little cakes in the big set that had been installed in the center of the table. And put it in Lea’s plate. The former assassin pushed the plate between them. Isa smiled a little more, watching him with tender love in his eyes.
“Uuuuuugh!”
Lea let his back crash in the sand.
“Are you okay?” Isa asked, bending over him.
“Yeah, yeah, just… ugh, so tired. I’m not done for that. I’m not a dad…” he sighed.
Inside, the teenagers were still in the rooms, playing, joking and preparing themselves for the night incoming. Most of the parents had left for their own house and Lea and Isa hesitated if they had to do it. With a Corridor of Darkness, it was easy to pass from one World to the other…
“You’re learning, Lea.”
“You’re learning too, and yet!”
“I’m just skilled for the decorum. Don’t worry. Roxas and Xion always plot against me because I’m too strict.”
“Yeah, but you’re perfect anyway.” Lea rubbed his face. “I’m sorry, I suck…”
“You’re not.”
Isa sat next to him, his fingers passed in the red hairs and he bent to press a myriad of kisses on his cheeks.
Lea laughed softly and grabbed him by the waist and made him roll on the sand. As he did, Isa slid his hands on his cheeks, his thumbs caressing them.
“I’m really gifted to have ya, y’know?” Lea muttered against his lips.
“It’s the same for me,” he replied.
“I love ya,” Lea whispered in the hole of his ear.
Just before kissing the lobe. And then his throat, his hairs tickling him and making him laugh and whisper his name.
He loved him. He loved him so much and had not enough words to tell him to him. Whatever how often he’d kiss him, bring him to do stuff outside, would lay in his arms and mutter his name, again and again…
“I want to be with you forever…” he muttered.
He caressed his lips with a tender thumb.
“I’m yours,” Isa said under his breath.
“I’m yours too,” Lea replied, kissing tenderly his scar on the forehead. “A Legend says this World has strange fruits. A fruit bonding with someone if you share it with them. Forever.”
Isa nodded slightly. Roxas and Xion talked about that all the time because it was deeply anchored in their memories.
Sora’s memories.
Riku had talked about it today, too.
Kairi, once…
“I’ll grab one for you! And we will share it!” Lea was ready to rise up but he stayed on place. “If you’re okay?”
Isa smiled and kissed him tenderly, softly, with a strong passion.
“Of course,” he said. “I want to have my life intertwined with yours. Forever.”
Not that it wasn’t already done. Their lives were made to be together. They were meant to walk alongside the same path.
Forever.
And nothing could tear them apart…
Lea took his hands to kiss them and got up, helping him to do the same. He stepped aside but held Isa’s hand as he was searching for a Paopu fruit, walking by his side, enjoying the warm weather even if the night was slowly cast its veil upon the day.
As he was searching the precious fruit, he kept glancing to Isa with a smile.
Even if he didn’t find the Paopu, he’d be happy to be next to him. He loved every moment with him. He was the only one whose silence didn’t bother him.
There was nothing wrong when he was by his side.
Nothing.
They kept walking, walking and walking.
As they did, Lea caressed his fingers, leaning in here and there to kiss him. And Isa happily kissed him back when he could.
Lea kept glancing around and, suddenly…
“Here!”
Isa looked as his boyfriend showed a big star-shaped fruit. It was hanging in a curbed tree, hanging above the sea.
“Lea, maybe ano…”
“I’ll get this one! I’ll show you my love!”
Isa let go on his hand to slide them along his cheeks, pressing a kiss on his nose.
“I know you love me.”
“But I want to impress you!”
“And you impress me all the time,” he said. He kissed his cheek tenderly. “But go on, if you want to.”
“Look at me!”
The redhead smiled and walked to the tiny island with the tree above the water. He blew a kiss to Isa who acted like he could actually catch it. He pressed it against his chest, while trying to prevent his longs blue hairs to paste against his skin.
He watched as Lea climbed on the trunk and started to walk toward the big fruit. He was doing carefully. It wasn’t time to worry his lover!
So he moved with tiny pace and even sat next to the fruit. He bent and grabbed the edge of the fruit.
“Lea, take c…”
“What?!”
The man lost his balance and his whole body dashed toward the waves. He rose his hand as high as he could in his fall. As he plunged down the sea, his hand kept above the surface, saving the fruit.
“YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEES!!!!” he let out.
“Lea! Come back!” Isa called.
“Yes, yes, yes!”
Lea started to swim, just with one hand, and came to the beach. He ran to his lover and grabbed him by the waist, making him swirl in the airs.
“Lea!” Isa let out, thought he couldn’t help but laugh.
“I’m just so happy!! I’ve got it! We’ll be together forever!” he said happily.
“Of course, we will,” he said, hugging him back, kissing his cheeks with tenderness. “I’m your forever, Lea. I’m just yours.”
Lea kissed his arms tenderly. He caressed Isa’s throat and then went on his knee, still holding the fruit.
“Isa… Do you want to share the rest of your life with me?”
“Lea… You’re…” He smiled tenderly. “Of course.”
Isa knelt next to him and kissed his lips tenderly. And smiled even more when Lea held out the fruit to him. They knew nothing about the Legend and maybe it really was just a Legend… so they could bit together in the fruit. So they could bond to each other. Until their last breath.
Breath they hoped lose together…
Nothing seemed to have changed.
Lea and Isa were bonded forever but nothing seemed to have changed. What could have changed? They loved each other so much, they always knew they were meant for a live at two…
As Lea woke up, just because he needed to go in the bathroom before coming back for a longer nap, he noticed something on his hand. In the dim light coming through the windows, he could see it, next to the thumb, just a bit under it. It was a Paopu fruit. But a bite had been removed from it. He frowned. From where it came?
He rubbed it, trying to erase it, but he couldn’t. The drawing seemed to be deep in his skin. Like a tattoo.
“Mi amor?” he said, leaning over Isa.
“Hmm… I’ll get up…. Don’t… worry,” he said, rubbing his forehead before holding out his hand.
Lea gave him his and leaned over him, wanting to press kisses on his face.
“It’s not th…”
He stopped in the mid of the word because he saw their hands intertwined, saw the Paopu formed by their hands.
He moved them to him.
“I think the magic works and you can’t push me aside,” he whispered.
Isa who glanced at the clock and noticed the hour, had his eyes just coming back to him. To their hands intertwined. And he saw the tattoos mixed together… A smile appeared on his lips and he pressed his lips over it, mostly on Lea’s hand.
“I never meant to push you aside. Now go back to sleep or you’ll be obnoxious all day long,” he said, winking at him.
“Isaaaaaaa…”
“Do the big spoon, please. Forever?”
“Is this a forever meaning forever the big spoon or forever with you? Because I like when you’re doing the big spoon too!”
“Forever with you.”
Isa kissed once again the Paopu linked on their hands. Lea hugged him tenderly and kissed his throat, saying again and again how much he loved him…
#akusai#leaisa#It's on ao3#fanfiction#fanfic#fluffy#paopu fruit#soulmate#eternal love#inspired by another person's work#my momma kat is awesome
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Stories That Don’t Flinch: Let’s Talk About Hereditary
There’s a lot to be said about 2018′s Hereditary, the directorial debut of Ari Aster. We could talk about it’s oppressive atmosphere and slow-but-inevitable-crescendo pacing. We could talk about the unbearable tension built around a crumbling family. Or we could talk at length about its incredible amounts of meticulous foreshadowing and the tightness of its visual storytelling.
But I want to talk about that scene. You know the one.
Heavy spoilers underneath the cut. If you haven’t seen the movie yet, venture cautiously forward -- you might want to watch it spoiler-free so you can be shocked the way I was. Trigger warnings for child death. This is not a pleasant movie.
Hereditary opens on a funeral, but its first on-screen death happens around the 35 minute mark, and nothing can really prepare you for it.
Up to this point, you think you know where this movie is headed. We’re introduced to Annie, a mother who’s dealing with complicated grief after her own mother’s death. They didn’t have a good relationship, to say the least, and her own life has been marked by a series of tragedies tied to mental illness. We’re introduced to her daughter Charlie, an uncanny child whose hobbies include eating chocolate, drawing, and building creepy-ass effigies in her bedroom.
We have every reason to believe that the primary conflict of the film will be centered on the difficult relationship between mother and daughter. Annie wasn’t close to her mother, but Charlie had a special bond with her grandmother. Charlie is despondent and weird and creepy. She does things like sneak out to sleep in her tree house, follow lights into the woods, and cut the head off a dead bird for her next art project.
So around the half-hour mark, Charlie’s older brother Peter asks if he can go to a party. His mother, suspecting there might be drinking involved, tells him to take his little sister along -- a classic parenting move I think is probably familiar to most people. I know I spent a lot of time as a kid being the annoying tag-along sister chaperoning (and cock-blocking) my brothers and their friends. Highly relatable.
Anyway - so Peter takes Charlie to the party and is trying to make the best of it (ie, not let his weird creepy kid sister completely ruin his chance at having fun) so he gently urges her to go eat a piece of cake and enjoy herself. Unbeknownst to both of them, the cake has walnuts in it -- and we’ve previously established that Charlie has a nut allergy.
Not long later, Charlie finds Peter sequestered in an upstairs bedroom, taking a bong rip. She’s broken out into a rash and started to wheeze.
Peter, being a dumb teenager, panics and bundles her up in the car to drive back to mom and dad -- a bad call, but again, utterly relatable. Who’s going to call an ambulance to a party full of underage drinking and weed? What teenage boy is going to remember to carry an epi-pen all the time for his kid sister?
So he starts driving down the empty country road leading to their house. It’s dark, and he’s flooring the gas pedal. We see the speedometer top out at 90. Charlie is gasping and wheezing terribly in the back seat. She rolls down the window and leans out, trying to breathe better. Peter, obviously frightened, is trying to share his attention between her in the backseat and the road.
There’s a dead deer lying in the middle of the road.
He swerves to avoid it. There’s a telephone pole on the side of the road, the same side Charlie is hanging out of.
We hear the impact, and we know. We know what happened.
At that point watching this movie, I legitimately screamed, and that doesn’t happen often. Never in a million years would I have expected that.
Kids in movies -- even horror movies -- tend to have plot armor. It’s pretty rare that the kid dies. It happens, of course (look at Pet Sematary), but it’s uncommon.
And it’s rare in movies -- even horror movies -- for a death to be sudden and honest and brutal. Stories usually give you a place to hide, emotionally, when a character dies. Either the death is treated with some filter of sentimentality -- sad music and on-screen tears and a lingering camera view of fingers unfurling, or some such -- or the shlocky gore factor is played up, driving the death to the point of absurdity so that you can feel a little safer about watching it.
It’s pretty rare for death in fiction to come suddenly and brutally and without any warning or safe space to hide, and for that death to be the death of a child -- shit. It was hardcore. It was viscerally uncomfortable to watch. We actually had to pause the movie to go outside for a minute and collect ourselves before going back into it.
And not just because the death itself was so shocking and so awful, but because the film broke an unspoken contract:
The kid isn’t supposed to die. We had every reason up to that point to believe that she was going to be the main character, or the antagonist.
It’s a genuinely Hitchcockian twist, and watching it, I think I know how audiences must have felt the first time Psycho aired on theaters. That kind of contractual betrayal works on a meta-textual basis to deeply unsettle the audience.
We’re barely 40 minutes into a 2-hour+ film at this point. Where the fuck can it go from here?
Back on the screen -- Peter has stopped the car, and he is completely frozen with shock in the front seat. There is no more noise from the back seat. He doesn’t dare look. He knows. He knows what he’s going to see back there. And for a long, long time, he sits there frozen in complete shock and terror.
And then he puts the car into gear and drives home.
And pulls into the driveway and goes inside and climbs into his bed without ever looking in the back seat, without saying anything to anyone, without turning on a light or making a noise. He lays down in bed wide-eyed and completely numb and, some sleepless quantity of time later, hears the sounds of his parents moving around, and his mom heading down to the car, and then her screaming.
I don’t know that I have ever felt more sorry for a fictional character in my life than I did for Peter at that moment.
This poor kid -- this doe-eyed teenager, who made some bad calls, but can you blame him? None of this was his fault, not really. And now he’s going to live with this weight for the rest of his life. He is completely and utterly traumatized, and we know immediately that he’s not going to get any support in this -- not from his mother, who we can already see is both selfish and pathological in her own grief.
As you might expect, things continue to get worse for him throughout the rest of the film.
And just in case you thought the movie would be kind to you -- just in case you thought you still had somewhere safe to hide, in case you thought you could get away without confronting the whole situation (god help me) head-on...well. In the bright light of day, the family (and the camera) return to the scene to retrieve Charlie’s head, already teeming with ants.
This movie does not pull any punches. Not a single one.
I think there are a lot of useful things to learn from this particular film, from an artistic standpoint:
You have an unspoken contract with the audience. There are certain expectations that people have based on genre conventions and cultural norms. You can break those to great effect -- but you have to be careful with it, because breaking those conventions is a betrayal of trust. You might lose audience members who are not willing to surrender their time and attention to a creator who betrays the contract. This is the kind of thing you can only manage to pull off once in a story, and you’ve got to make it count.
Highly specific situations are often, paradoxically, more relatable than “universal” ones. Eschewing common tropes and expected, predictable creative choices can make a story feel more authentic and real. The situation of going to a party and having to drag your kid sister along is real. Panicking and running home to mom instead of calling an ambulance is real. Being in total shock after a terrible accident and not telling anyone about it is real. They’re things I don’t necessarily think I’ve seen play out very often in a story, but they’re things that are absolutely believable. Universal tropes are often based more on cultural norms of behavior than on actual individual experiences. Real life is usually messier and stranger and more messed up. Crib experiences from real life -- yours, your friends, your family, news stories -- to tell authentic and relatable stories.
Decide whether you want to give the audience a place to hide. Sometimes horror movies are fun. Sometimes you want to create a scary environment that people can feel safe watching, like a haunted house. You give them places to hide and protect themselves emotionally -- you incorporate humor, you drive up the absurdity of the violence, you make all of the characters sort of caricature-esque. But sometimes you want to make a story that will actually genuinely horrify the audience -- even traumatize them. And you do that by refusing to flinch or look away or pull punches. You make them confront the terrible things directly and force them to process them on their own.
Anyway. I’m not sure that Hereditary manages to live up to its first act. It’s a fine film, and it continues to be creepy and uncomfortable and genuinely horrifying throughout -- but that death scene is a tough act to follow, and I personally found its supernatural resolution to somewhat cheapen the events that preceded it.
But that scene will stick with me forever. This film will haunt me. And for someone who consumes and creates as much horror media as I do, that is truly saying something.
#hereditary#how to write horror#horror movies#film analysis#tw: child death#tw: death#gore#upsetting gif
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Wrought Iron Machine (Part 6)
Zuko pushes his chair in with a force that shook the table. "Careful with the equipment!" Azula snaps. Zuko has steadily
grown more and more irritable as their recording session went on. "What's going on with you?"
"What's going on with me!?" He asks. "What's going on with you?"
Azula rolls her eyes. They don't have time for this.
"I want a break Azula!" He declares. "We haven't had one since we began touring. I though that you left this next week
concert free so we could have one."
"I was kinda hoping for a day of too." TyLee mumbled softly.
Azula sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose. Did they really need an on-tour recording session? Perhaps she is pushing
them too hard. She must admit that her throat hurts like hell. "Alright, fine." She caves. "We can have the week off..."
"You sound like you need it." Mai remarks off-handedly. She hopes that Mai is referring to her hoarse voice and not her demeanor.
"Oh, thank you Azula!" TyLee exclaims. "You're the best!" She throws her arms around Azula. "Now I can go and get my hair
done and give Haru a call."
"Haru?" Azula asks. "Why would you call Haru?"
"Because he's sooo cute." TyLee beams.
Azula begs to differ but she won't tell TyLee how to waste her time. She watches Zuko and Mai wander back to the tour bus, she could follow them but she knows what they have in mind. She has kept them deprived for a while. So that left her to decide how she wants to spend her day. She supposes that she can fill it with exploring the Earth Kingdom. Gaoling was a nice enough city, wedged within steep and craggy hills. It hosts an assortment of shops and traditional Earth Kingdom eateries. For awhile she and TyLee walk side by side making mundane conversation but then TyLee breaks off to step into the hair cutter’s building and Azula is alone.
She decides to give the closest restaurant a try. Azula had never been particularly fond of Earth Kindom cuisine, vastly preferring the spice and tang of the Fire Nation. By comparison the food here seems almost bland. She pushes it around with her chopsticks for a few minutes before actually eating it.
Eventually, she pushes her dishes aside and heads back to the tour bus. She doesn’t put any thought into her team of bodyguards, or lack thereof, until she feels a hand on her shoulder.
“You’re from Fire Of Agni aren’t you!”
She lets the fire die in her palm. “That’s correct.”
“Oh. My. Raava!” The boy squeals.
“Not so loud.” Azula hisses. She doesn’t particularly mean to be rude, not to a fan, but the last thing she wants to deal with is a swarm of camera wielding, question spouting, paparazzis. And, Agni, with the kiss scandal fresh out of the press, they would have a lot to ask.
“Oh...sorry.” His voice drops. “I’m just so excited! Where are the other three.”
“Enjoying their day off, I suppose.” Azula shrugged.
“I’m so glad I get to meet you!” He holds out a pen and paper.
Azula takes it and signs it. She supposes that she will either have to remember her bodyguards or get used to encounters like so. Not that being a princess hadn’t earned her plenty of attention. But subjects and fans were different breeds. She is still trying to get a feel for Fire Of Agni’s fandom. A good lot of them were as fierce and crude as the image Azula and the rest of her band try to craft.
.oOo.
As wonderful as this little waste of a week has been for her voice, it is horrid for her state of mind. She is growing restless. It leaves her too much time to think, dwell, and regret. She looks around the tour bus bedroom. It seems that, once again, she is the last one awake. She lies on her back with her hands clasped atop her middle, staring at the ceiling.
She is more than okay with Zuko slumbering, in fact she avoids him as much as she can. She rolls onto her side with a drawn out exhale. She has too much to think about. Mostly she thinks of home. For as many songs as she writes about it being broken and dreadful, she misses it. She misses her father. The very man who they regularly tear apart with vulgar lyrics and unkind shoutouts. She misses him so terribly. Misses when he would tuck her bangs behind her ear and tell her how much potential she has. She misses having not failed him.
Azula draws the covers more tightly around herself.
“You still awake?” Zuko’s voice cuts through her dismal thinking.
She pretends to be asleep.
“I know you’re awake. You used to do this when we were kids…” he trails off.
She shifts slightly.
“You’re going to have to talk about this some time.” He grumbles. “How long do you think we can avoid it before it starts to affect our music?”
Azula groans. “It was a kiss Zuzu.” She pauses. “That’s it.” And it served its purpose.
“If it was just a kiss then why have you been avoiding me?”
“I want to make sure others know, that it was just a kiss.” Azula replies. But that’s just the thing, as much as she wants to put that drunken publicity stunt behind her, she may need to exploit it again.
“Just admit that we were drunk.”
“And what, have the police squad handing us a fine? We need that money for our videos and equipment. How many cymbals has TyLee gone through already?” The girl isn’t exactly careful.
She doesn’t confess that she has every intention of bringing their scandal to a new peak if her voice can’t draw as much attention as she wants it to.
“Well...well…” Zuko trails off. “Well. Just stop making things weird.” She can practically see the pout on his face. “We were just starting to fix what our dad messed up. I want us to be real siblings…”
“Will you two go to bed.” Mai grumbles.
“You have one more day off.” Azula replies. “You can sleep in.” Even so, she doesn’t fancy Mai peeping on a touchy and borderline sappy conversation like this. And to Zuko she closes the discussion, “look, Zuzu, I’m not going to let it affect our music. Not now that we’ve been invited to S.A.S.”
“We were invited to…”
“We’ll talk about it tomorrow.”
“Or after our day off?” Mai asks.
Azula rolls her eyes. “Fine.” She needs to fine tune her attack plan anyhow. She knows that they will need a few new songs, she simply needs to decide if they want to go for quantity or quality. If she gets her way, they will have both. She knows that the thought will follow her to sleep.
She starts to drift into it when Zuko speaks again. “I’m not worried about the music.” He reiterates. “I’m worried about how it will affect us.”
“It won’t.” Azula vows. Yet, somehow, she isn’t quite convinced herself. Fire Of Agni seems to be revealing more uncertainty and instability than she had initially anticipated. She is no longer thinking of how to approach S.A.S. The image of she and Zuko won’t leave her mind. That is what follows her to sleep.
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Dusty Boxes
Characters: Alphys, Frisk, Undyne, Papyrus, Sans
Warnings: Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Post-Undertale Pacifist Route - "I want to stay with you.", Medical Experimentation, Medical Trauma, Nonbinary Character, Nonbinary Frisk (Undertale), POV Multiple
Ao3: Here
Summary: Frisk and their friends help Alphys dig through some old boxes at the lab.(Not a good summary, sorry)
Alphys stared at the boxes and boxes of old reports and notebooks. The dust spinning in the air was sickening - whether it was the remains of the dead or the decayed paper of centuries of scientific progress, the horror was the same. How had she never noticed this door before?
All of this data - what if it held the answers she needed to stabilize the Amalgamates? What if it contained records of someone else doing the exact same experiment? How stupid would that be, hurting so many monsters and their families when just reading one of these files would have told her what to expect?
A small hand tugged at her sleeve, pulling her out of it. Frisk looked up at her through their brand new glasses, beautiful red eyes filled with concern.
“I’m okay...thanks, F-f-frisk,” Alphys looked around the room again, this time taking in the massive heap of collapsed boxes shoved in a corner, the flickering fluorescent lights, the receding walls. Sorting through this chaotic excuse for a filing system would take ages.
“Actually...do you, um, think we could c-c-call Undyne? There’s a l-l-lot of boxes.”
Frisk shot her a thumbs up, then signed out a question. Alphys’ lips moved as she tried to work it out. Some of Frisk’s symbols were very different from Monster Hands. Everyone was learning to translate, but sometimes it was tough.
“you w-w-want to call the...bone...broth- oh. Oh! Yes, they’ll be, um, helpful? Papyrus is very o-o-organized and Sans...yeah. That’s a really g-g-good idea, Frisk!”
The human smiled at her. They pulled their phone out of their pocket and started fiddling.. As they worked, Alphys wandered further into the ancient store room. She started mapping, in her mind at least, the relative age of various files. Some of the writing looked absolutely archaic! There didn’t seem to be much of a chronological ordering. Decaying cardboard leaned against colorful plastic. Maybe it was by subject?
Alphys’ thoughts trailed away as she paced through the caked dust, her friend's boisterous voices crackling through the cell’s speakers and disturbing the long quiet of the room.
Papyrus surveyed the neat columns of stacked paperwork in the hall before him. With his expert advice the unorganised files were being transformed into a neat chronology! Of course, his brother’s suggestion of sorting by handwriting and quantity of dust was of some help. Without the direction of the Great Papyrus, however, they would never have gotten this far!
“PAPYRUS! This one’s full of loopy dotted stuff. We got a place for that?”
He thrust his sternum proudly towards his friend, “INDEED! LOOPY DOTS ARE IN AISLE 3, ROW J!”
Thanks!” Undyne set off into the piles, “By the way, have you seen your brother lately? Alphys saw him disappear into the unlit mountains almost an hour ago and hasn’t seen him since.”
Papyrus patted his mandible thoughtfully, “NOW THAT YOU MENTION IT, NO! MY LAZY BROTHER HAS PROBABLY FALLEN ASLEEP AGAIN. I SHALL GO FETCH HIM IMMEDIATELY!”
Undye looked at him oddly, “You do realise he can’t help falling asleep like that? Punk’s got some kind of a medical thing. Frisk told me.”
Papyrus smiled brightly, “I KNOW! HE’S ALWAYS BEEN LIKE THAT, BUT I KNOW HE CAN DO BETTER! AT THE VERY LEAST HE COULD FALL ASLEEP WHERE I CAN SEE HIM. THEN I CAN GIVE HIM A BLANKET SO HE DOESN’T GET COLD!”
His best friend tilted her head, “I thought you said skeletons couldn’t get cold.”
“WE CAN’T! BUT THAT’S WHAT ALL THE MOVIES SAY YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO DO.”
She grinned, “Gotcha. So what are you waiting around here for? GO FIND THAT LAZY BROTHER AND WRAP HIM IN THE WARMEST BLANKET YOU CAN FIND!”
Papyrus saluted, “YES UNDYNE!”
He dove through the doorway into the cavern of paperwork, clearing Frisk’s approaching head by only a few inches.
When Papyrus found Sans he was sitting in a circle of scribbled paperwork. Three empty boxes were stacked behind him. One of their pet blasters hovered next to him, a pink lantern with cat ears on it dangling from its jaws.
“SANS WHAT ARE YOU DOING? ALPHYS SPECIFICALLY TOLD US TO LEAVE THE PAPERWORK IN THE BOXES UNTIL EVERYTHING HAD BEEN SORTED!”
His brother jumped, dropping a set of grainy images messily around him.
“wha- uh, hey bro. i know, just...” his skull rotated to avoid Papyrus’ gaze, “it’s my file, bro. never got to read it fully.”
Papyrus collapsed his knees into a messy tailor’s seat just beyond the ring of documents.
“OH,” his voice was plastic and crispy black slacks, “ANYTHING INTERESTING?”
Sans shrugged, “not really. no notes yet, just the figures. 20 mg of dried patience here, tibia cracked after 3.82 centimeters of separation there. ‘bout what you’d expect, really.”
Papyrus fiddled with his left glove, “I’M SORRY.”
Sans patted his patella awkwardly, “hey, what’d i say about apologizing for him? s’not your fault.”
Papyrus’ roving sockets stalled on one of the clearer pictures. A much smaller Sans stared blankly at the camera with one working eye. The other was stuffed with red-stained gauze and had fresh cracks around the edges. His jaw was wired to his skull in three places, and anyone who knew how skeletons healed could see the wires were already half-covered in new bone.
“I SHOULD HAVE NOTICED SOONER. HE WAS ALWAYS SO COLD, AND HE NEVER ANSWERED MY QUESTIONS. HE-”
Fragile, unevenly bleached arms wrapped around him.
“naw, bro,” Sans’ voice was a cracked whisper vibrating into his collarbone, “you’re perfect. suspicion isn’t in your nature - how could i blame you for thinking your dad was perfect? you saved me, you taught me how to eat and talk and trust other monsters. i’d never have survived without as cool a guy as you taking care of me. i love you so much bro, you’ve got no idea.”
Papyrus wailed into his brother’s hoodie, “BUT HE HURT YOU SO MUCH!”
“yeah. but you taught me how to love. besides, if frisk can forgive us for trying to take their soul to break the barrier, i can forgive you for taking so long to open that door. maybe i can even forgive him - after all, he didn’t realise his experiment had developed a soul.”
Papyrus gave in and let the tears fall. His little brother just hugged him, scarred frame radiating so much love and forgiveness that it was a wonder the humans on the other side of the world couldn’t feel it.
Alphys was snout deep in one of the dusty files when Frisk tapped her on the shoulder. She dropped the file, papers flying everywhere, and sneezed. A puff of dust disturbed the thick air.
“Sorry, sorry,” she turned to the young human, “Did you, um, want something?”
Frisk signed. Alphys’ lips moved as she worked it out.
“You found a file that has weird writing in it?” Frisk nodded, “What kind of writing?”
Frisk signed that the script looked like weird symbols.
“Oh. Okay. Do you want m-m-me to take a look?”
Frisk nodded again. Alphys got to her feet, casting a forlorn look at the scattered papers. Before she could open her mouth to ask, Frisk had already bent down to pick them up. Alphys joined them. They soon had the papers back in order and tucked safely away in the file. This accomplished, they set out.
“Alright, what am I looking at?”
Papyrus wrung his gloves under the pressure of Undyne’s one eye. Sans had only made him promise not to tell anyone about things, right? So obviously it was okay to bring the former Captain of the Royal Guard into the stacks of paper and point her at the right box. Obviously. His gut was just going to have to sit there and stop complaining.
Anyway, he hadn’t said anything to Undyne. He’d just...let her follow him. That was it. It wasn’t his fault if Undyne chose to follow him, was it?
Suddenly she snorted, “Snrk. Pap, really? You made me a puzzle again?”
Well no, he hadn’t, but that was fine. If Undyne thought this was a puzzle, he could play along. Sans always encouraged him to enjoy his puzzles. Papyrus suspected it had something to do with all of the tests they’d had Sans do back then. Some part of him still thought that doing good on tests was important, and that it meant safety. Making Papyrus safe was very important to him, and that was rather touching…
Or it could just be that Sans wanted him to be happy. Puzzles made him happy. Therefore Sans liked it when he did puzzles because they made him happy.
Something like that, anyway. No matter what, Sans would be happy that he was doing a puzzle. Therefore he could let Undyne think this was a puzzle. In fact, it was, in a way. Just not a puzzle with a very happy solution.
One yellow eye surveyed the area, “Okay. I see...boxes. Lots of boxes. Am I supposed to move them?”
Papyrus shook his head. She gave him a look.
“Can’t you just tell me? This is STUPID!”
Papyrus shook his head. If he told her he’d be breaking the promise to Sans.
“FINE! OKAY!” Her voice dropped in volume to something more normal, “Is the puzzle in a box?”
He nodded.
“Which one?”
He scuffed his boot pointedly. She stared at him. He scuffed it again, louder this time. She looked down.
“Oh.”
She turned around and stomped over to the right pile of boxes.
“These?”
He nodded. She snatched up the top box and plopped it on the ground. He winced as she tore it open with about 250,000% more force than necessary. The box disintegrated under the strain, spraying photos, folders, and binders all over the floor.
She looked at him guiltily, “Sorry, Pap. I ruined it, didn’t I?”
He shook his head. No, as much as it pained him to see that amount of unnecessary mess, it really didn’t matter whether or not the box survived. He doubted it would have done so after she saw the reports, anyway.
Her brows furrowed, and she looked back down at the mess. Then she groaned.
“A reading puzzle? Ugh, I hate those.”
Papyrus couldn’t bring himself to look her in the eye. He heard the thud as she dropped to the ground, then paper rustled.
Silence filled the dusty cavern of dead paper as Undyne read. The flipping of pages was the only interruption. That and the grumbling of an annoyed fish monster, but that hardly registered. The sound followed Undyne to a lot of places - he wasn’t even sure she was always moving her mouth to make it. It could just be background noise, like the music Frisk had signed to them about.
A longer than usual period of silence drew his attention. Papyrus turned.
Undyne was rereading the same page over and over again. Her hands were trembling, her arms tense with barely restrained fury. She reread it again. It wasn’t changing. Not even the former Captain of the Royal Guard could wish this away.
“Papyrus.”
Her voice was low and deadly.
“Please tell me this is a really bad joke.”
He shook his head. Her voice went on, wheedling.
“A prank? Did your brother put you up to this?”
He shook his head.
“Please don’t tell me this really happened.”
Papyrus nodded with a decisive finality drenched in grief.
Her head turned back to the sheet. She read it again, slower now. Then her fists clenched and it tore in two.
Her voice was calm, in an odd sort of way. Not happy. It was just calm. For Undyne, that was a lot more terrifying that spears.
“You know, it’s weird. I don’t want to believe this, and yet...there’s a lot of stuff that fits.”
She rolled her shoulders, loosening every muscle in such a way that she would be ready to fight. He knew that move well.
“Where are the freaks?”
He shrugged.
“You don’t know?”
He nodded.
“AND YOU’RE OKAY WITH THIS?!!!”
Papyrus faced her fully. She gulped.
“Sorry. I know you...I just...HOW THE HECK CAN YOU FEEL SAFE, NOT KNOWING WHERE THEY ARE?!! HOW CAN SANS?!!”
“how can i what?”
Both Undyne and Papyrus managed to flinch and spin at exactly the same time in exactly the same movement. Sans had peered around the edge of the boxes, a stack of binders in his arms. He looked between their guilty faces and the broken box.
“oh.”
Undyne clearly wasn’t as prepared to handle the blank expression as Papyrus was. She crumpled away, gulping. He just walked, slowly, over to his brother and took the box. Sans’ arms didn’t move. None of him did.
Undyne blurted out, “HE DIDN’T SAY ANYTHING! I WAS JUST-” Her voice dropped into a whisper as Sans’ eye lights returned, “I was just following him. I thought it was a puzzle he made me.”
Sans arms slowly lowered to his sides. He was still tense as a wire and NOT LOOKING at Papyrus. Papyrus tried to ignore the little bubble of unhappiness that was forminging in his SOUL. Sans didn’t know it, but this would help, he was sure of it.
Undyne muttered a curse, barely audible under her breath, and then said, “Sorry.”
The look in her eye and the face Sans turned on her made Papyrus glad. She wanted to help Sans, just like he’d thought. And while he didn’t believe it entirely, Sans actually looked as if he might accept that she would try.
It was nice to know he’d been right.
Alphys tried to allay her guilt by saying that it wasn’t really spying. They were in here to sort through the mess, after all, and just because some of the papers were in the same box didn’t mean they belonged there. A part of her brain objected that that step was supposed to come later. She hastily buried that thought.
Anyway, Frisk had asked her to read this file, so stopping now would be rude. It was dry stuff, just experiment notes on well-known substances. Albeit rather large amounts of said substances, but still.
The next section made her pause. It mentioned DT, and that was her specialty after all, but...but the way the author talked about it made it sound, if not commonplace, then at least familiar to the scientifically inclined. That couldn’t be right - it had taken her ages to identify the compound. It couldn’t be common...could it?
She read on, appalled at the tremendous quantity of DT that seemed to have been wasted on a fruitless experiment. The author only seemed to have been testing how much physical DT it took to form a stable mass. Why anyone would be interested in that-
The next paragraph stopped her dead. The author described a surgical procedure in which said mass was implanted into a living socket.
“Wha- who w-w-would...why…”
Her voice trailed off. The file referenced the subject as C0-M1-C5-ANS. Something about that serial number was familiar to her, but what-
“whatcha doin there, alph.”
She started, flinging the file into the air. Once more papers scattered around the dusty floor. A skeletal hand picked them up. It was attached to a dark-socketed skull.
“huh. interesting reading material. where’d you find this?”
Alphys tried to speak but could only squeak. Annoyed, she made the sign monsters had universally accepted as meaning ‘FRISK’.
“ah. shoulda expected that. our little human loves to stick their nose where it doesn’t belong.”
The skeleton bent down and started slowly gathering papers. It looked as though he was lingering over each and every one.
“and i suppose it’s too much to believe that you didn’t read these.” She nodded her head glumly. Sans sighed and asked, “which one had you got to?”
“I...I w-w-was...DT. In a mass. And they w-w-were, um, surgeryintosomeone’seyesocket. Yeah.”
Alphys couldn’t make out Sans’ expression as he demanded, “what did you think of it?”
Her jaw gaped. What kind of a question was that?
“It’s horrible? Not j-j-just the surgery, I mean, the science is b-b-bad. DT is dangerous. Why would anyone t-t-try to make a ball of it? Well, I did, but not that big! It’s just a w-w-waste. And there’s NO WAY I’d try to imp-p-plant it in someone. Even if they, um, consented? And I d-d-don’t think th-”
“they didn’t,” He interrupted her, “no, they never asked. they didn’t think i was a mons-fudge.”
She’d have to buff the snout scales above her mouth tonight. Her claws were leaving scratches all over them. Her knees felt weak, too.
“Th-th-they di- di-”
“hey, alph, easy! breathe with me. come on, iiiiiiiiin. ouuuuuut. alphys, listen to me, alph. please. iiiiiiin. ouuuuut. iiiiiiiiiiin. ouuuuuut. iiii-oh. your hugging me. okay. hi alph.”
She wailed, “SAAANSSS!”
“yeah, alph?”
“WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME?”
She felt him try to shrug. He calmly answered, “didn’t think it was that important. i don’t have a whole lot of memories from back then. when pap found me, well, i wasn’t really sans before that. i was just a bunch of pain and confusion. and i didn’t really know you that well until recently,” he got a glimpse of her face and rushed, “it’s not anything wrong you did, or because you are a scientist or anything. just...i don’t like talking about it. only paps knew, before today.”
Alphys blotted off her tears in his hoodie. Then “D-d-did you ever, um, talk with anyone else?”
He shook his head, “no. just pap. he’s so cool, you know? he got me out of that place and took me in. he taught me everything. how to talk, how to eat real food, how to walk comfortably, how to read. the first book i ever read aloud to him was fluffy bunny. he had some physics textbooks that i’ve memorised. maybe i can go to college once we’re settled up on the surface.”
She smiled weakly, “That would be n-n-nice. We could, um, go to classes togeth-th-ther? I’m such a mess. Undyne wants to study human history. The real history. ‘Cause I lied to her. About anime.”
“hey, don’t beat yourself up,” he tried to comfort her, “people make stupid decisions, and once you’ve made a choice it’s hard to change your mind. you owned up to it. she forgave you. that’s enough.”
“Why do you alw-w-ways come up with stuff like that? After everything you’ve been through?” She asked.
Sans shrugged, “pap read a lot of books. psychology stuff. maybe you can help me convince him to go for a degree?”
She nodded, quick little motions that had her head spinning - or maybe that was the shock. Probably the shock. It was definitely the shock that made her ask, “Um...which eye?”
He blinked at her, clearly trying to remember what she meant. Then his face grew a little bit sadder as he lifted his hand and tapped under his right eye. He said, “this one. i can’t see out of it at all now. the mass didn’t do anything except make me bleed when i get hurt. i guess i can ask frisk if there are any tricks to getting it to stop. it doesn’t want to coagulate, so i keep bleeding for days. it sucks.”
“I have, um, I mean, I m-m-might know a few tricks. Bratty has hemophilia, which means her blood doesn’t c-c-clot either. I used to help her with her bandages. I could, um...show you?”
He nodded, “that would be nice.”
Frisk hadn’t meant to start a landslide. They’d been trying to get one of the boxes that was just a little bit too high up for them to reach. They couldn’t see the boxes on top of it. When they’d finally gotten it loose, the entire pile shifted. It collapsed on top of them. There wasn’t a whole lot of it, but unfortunately, it was paper. Paper was heavy. Not heavy enough to hurt them, but heavy enough to pin them down. Now they’d have to wait for someone to come rescue them.
“hey, human. i don’t have to ask if you got the memo, do i?”
Frisk turned their head. Sans was standing a few feet away and grinning at them. They stuck their tongue out at him. It was the only reasonable response.
He chuckled and said, “hey. why don’t i lend you a hand? i’m pretty sure pap wouldn’t like having a pancake for a friend.”
Frisk nodded as best they could. He came over. The pile around them lit up blue while his left eye turned blue and yellow. Frisk felt the heap lift off of them. They wriggled out from underneath. Sans let the pile sag back onto the ground. Frisk jumped up and hugged him.
Sans hugged them back, saying, “heh. don’t let that paperwork bog you down, kid.”
They stepped back and signed their thanks.
He said, “don’t mention it. hey, while your here, can i ask you something?”
They knocked on the air twice.
He closed his eyes and said, “alphys showed me something. she said you’d found it. what i want to know is this,” Sans opened his eyes. The sockets were dark. Frisk shivered. He continued, “what were you doing with my file?”
Frisk gulped and signed quickly. They’d been trying to find Papyrus and Undyne to ask where to put a box when they’d seen Undyne tear apart a box with her bare hands. The files had scattered everywhere, and one had gotten forgotten in the cleanup. They’d taken it and seen the weird writing. They’d been curious. They asked Alphys to look at it. They were sorry if they’d done something bad.
Sans sighed. His sockets closed. When they opened, his eye lights were back. He said, “it’s okay, kid. i’m not mad. i’m just...a lot has happened today,” he breathed in deeply, then asked, “do you still want to know what’s inside it?”
Frisk nodded.
“okay,” he said, “it’s not exactly kid friendly, but i can summarize. some very bad scientists took one of the dead humans and made a little skeleton. they did it so they could run some painful experiments. but somewhere along the way the skeleton developed a soul. one of the bad scientists had a real son. he found the hurt skele. he took the skele home and taught him how to be a monster. the bad scientists went away, and the two skeletons were happy together.”
Frisk’s eyes watered. That was horrible! Their imagination was filling the gaps in with really, really bad things. And Sans had lived through that? They jumped back over and hugged him tight. If they had their way, they’d never let go.
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If I were to die in the next 5-10mins what would I do?
I'm not talking about suicide. Pls no. Truthfully I could never take my own life. I'm talking about like getting shot and bleeding out or getting hit by a car. Something that is beyond my control basically.
In those last moments though, what would I do? Haha well you see I'd like to think I'd text my friends and tell them I love them and that I'm sorry for being a shitty person? Sounds like a plan amirite?
I however hate, and I mean haaaate being a burden/looking for attention. So after careful consideration and much much muuuuuuch thought. I've come to the conclusion that my best course of action would be to just die alone.
You see, I wouldn't want to call someone and for them to feel upset? I guess??? I wouldn't want to call someone and have them frantically running around trying to figure out what to do. Of course I would love to have someone by my side, to help settle my nerves, but if not. I'd want my last moments to be calm and as unburdened as possible. As much as I am scared of dying by myself, I think it's the right thing to do?
I think those are like 5 people I could potentially call. However I know my dad's probably the only one who wouldn't break down over the phone, so the other 4 don't count. (I'm giving myself too much credit)
By calling them though, I'm running the risk of them being like scarred forever bc of me. I wouldn't want that to be someones last memory of me. That would literally hurt someone. Again maybe I'm giving myself too much credit here, but whatever, it's my story not yours.
Could you imagine that? Getting a call at an odd hour. Maybe it's 2:28am and your phone rings, you roll over in bed to look at your phone and it's a number you don't recognize/someone you haven't talked to in a while. So you pick up and go "Hello???" Then you hear them. A slight whisper, just barely able to speak but trying to tell you how much you meant to them yada yada yada. Boooring.
Okay, now that's sad, but imagine they don't pick up. Imagine them looking at their phone and going "whatever" so they go back to bed. You're just lying there, unable to speak, the agony of dying alone is crushing your soul into pieces. Then you die, knowing that your last few moments on Earth were shared by no one.
Now it's the next day, whoever you called is just getting up, it's practically 2 o'clock in the afternoon now and they go to check their phone. They look at the number/person that called them and try to call back, but they get no answer. So they go onto social media before starting their day, and then they see it. A couple people posted on your Facebook page.
"another angel in heaven 👼"
"R.I.P miss you bro"
"gone too soon 😔"
Posts like this keep coming in. They're confused to what's going on. It's takes them a while, but eventually they piece it together. They put their phone down and just sit there. They don't cry, they just sit there on the edge of their bed. Motionless for a couple minutes. Before they ultimately pick up their phone again and continue the cycle.
What upsets me about FB is that sure, I have a lot of friends on there, but how many of them do I actually hang out with/see? But all if not most of them are posting on my page. Trying to remember the good times and stuff like that.
I call bullshit.
I know, for a fact that there are maybe, 4 people? (aside from my relatives) That would actually have an arguable reason to be sad. Anyone else is just lying to themselves. Not one of them was gonna message me and ask me to coffee or for lunch if I was still there.
I'd like to imagine that in heaven (if I end up there lmao) the first thing you do is have a huuuuge feast at your favorite restaurant. (Dying is hard work) With anyone you want, regardless of whether or not they're dead. I mean it's heaven right? So you all catch up and talk about your new life and about all the good and all the dumb things you did in life. It's a fun time.
I guess the part that really ticks me off, is that at the end of the day, when you're up in heaven. The amount of people that you actually mean something too, could potentially all be sat down at a table in your favorite restaurant.
To me that's the craziest and scariest thought I could ever have.
You see when I was a kid I would run home from kindergarten and tell me dad all about my 69282627 friends and how we were all going to live in a giant tree house, with water balloon cannons, and a pizza room! There would be a basketball court a movie theater and we'd play video games all day. Machine gun turrets EVERYWHERE! (Don't make fun of me I was like 6 or whatever)
After listening to me drone on and on maybe a million-bazillion-kajillian times my dad sat me down and tried to explain the importance of friends. I was like "duuuuuh I have 7282628 best friends and we'd all DIE for each other." (Bc you know, when you're 6 you need all your friends to be RIDE OR DIE ones) he got up and gathered a hand full of change from his area and brought it over to me. (I think you see where I'm going with this) he gave me 5 pennies and I thought to myself "Wow, that's a lot of money" (I didn't think this bc I was 6, I thought that bc I was dumb. Just to be clear) We continued and he gave me another 5 cents so now I had ten. I could barely fit all the pennies in my tiny hands and my dad started to talk. He said something about me having a lot of pennies and I said "well duh dad, you gave them to me" he went on to explain the importance of good friends. Yada yada yada, you know the saying "I'd rather have 4 quarters than 100 pennies" and being six I was like "Naaaaah 100 is way more than 4!"
So I ran off and probably went off to eat some glue or something. As I got older I'm not gonna lie, I forgot pretty much everything my dad told me. Eventually I came to the conclusion though, ALL BY MYSELF, that it's about quality over quantity. (Unless we're talking about booze though. Than it's just whatever gets me drunko the fastest)
So yes, I guess I succeeded! Quality over quantity! Woot woot! I'm still pissed though
What I guess I'm actually pissed off about is that I never got the chance, rather I never tried to become closer with people that I wanted to. Mostly out of fear. Out of being rejected? I guess I'm not necessarily pissed that people would comment sad shit on my wall (again, maybe too much credit) but what I'm upset about is that I was never close enough to them. I just don't feel like I deserve it. I wish I had the courage to tell people how I feel and how hard I want them to think I'm cool and that I desperately want to be their friend, buuuut I don't.
So I guess what I'm trying to say is, live your life. I know it sounds cliche, but at the end of the day. When you're dying. You're going by yourself. So live! Please for the love of God, just live. Tell that guy who brings you bread that he's kinda weird, but other than that, he's p cool. Tell that girl who beats you up that her left hook could use a little work. Just be you and try to surround yourself with so many people that when you go to heaven God has to get someone to bring in more tables! I don't care, just do what makes you happy.
You never know how much time you have left.
(TL:DR)
#yolo
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A Drool-Worthy Day In The Life Of Instagram Food Sensation, Ellie Bouhadana of Ellie’s Table
A Drool-Worthy Day In The Life Of Instagram Food Sensation, Ellie Bouhadana of Ellie’s Table
A Day In The Life
Sasha Gattermayr
Ellie Bouhadana of Ellie’s Table lives in Balaclava with her partner. Even without lockdown restrictions, this is where she gets all her work done! Photo – Amelia Stanwix.
Photo – Amelia Stanwix.
She spends the start of her day collating off-the-cuff ideas stored in the ‘Notes’ app on her phone into a cohesive recipe plans. Then she tackles the daily admin of a small business: emails, budgets and contacting suppliers! Photo – Amelia Stanwix.
A trip to local fruit and veg store to gather supplies is essential for a day of recipe testing. Photo – Amelia Stanwix.
Researching dishes consists of reading lots and lots of cookbooks -the dream! Photo – Amelia Stanwix.
Selecting produce at the local fruit and veg store in Balaclava, just down the road from Ellie’s house. Photo – Amelia Stanwix.
On days when she hosts her pop-up trattoria, Ellie contacts her local supplier to talk through the best seasonal produce and order large quantities for service. But for recipe testing days, the local shop will definitely do! Photo – Amelia Stanwix.
Inside her light-filled, dreamy kitchen. The kitchen overlooks her garage and driveway, which was the location for her summer crostini bar. Photo – Amelia Stanwix.
The open pantry is filled with Mediterranean pantry staples. Aperol Spritz, anyone? Photo – Amelia Stanwix.
Ellie has Israeli, Moroccan and Jewish heritage, and her cooking is a fusion of them all, with a healthy dose of Italian thrown in! She calls it Italo-Mediterranean, which also captures the way she wants her food to be eaten (communally!) as well as the cuisine itself. Photo – Amelia Stanwix.
Though pasta is traditionally associated with Italy, dough is a central part of Jewish cuisine. Ellie’s grandmother used to watch her mother hang sheets of pasta between two broom handles, and has now taught Ellie how to make Jewish dumplings (kreplach) out of dough and drop them in soup. Photo – Amelia Stanwix.
‘The women in my family don’t really work with recipes so much, they cook with instinct (and a lot of cumin). This is how I love to cook. I really want to preserve their style of cooking which is so innate and relaxed. It really is based on feeling.’ Photo – Amelia Stanwix.
A light and bright corner of the large kitchen. Photo – Amelia Stanwix.
Preparing homemade spaghetti alla chitarra with vongole. Photo – Amelia Stanwix.
Fresh pasta alongside ripe peaches and uncooked prawns. Photo – Amelia Stanwix.
Ellie doesn’t generally take a lunch break because she’s tasting food all day as she tests her recipes. Sometimes a chunk of bread with butter and an anchovy will do! Photo – Amelia Stanwix.
Ellie Bouhadana’s family is from Haifa, an Israeli city on the skinny stretch of coast between Tel Aviv and Beirut. When she was growing up, there was always streams of family and friends filing into her household to eat dinner on a Friday night. Later on, she would discover the same mode of eating in Italy, where a whole village would gather together at restaurants in search of good food and good company.
‘I would say my take on food is influenced by a mix of my Moroccan, Jewish and Israeli heritage; I call my style Italo-Mediterranean,’ she says. ‘When I lived in Haifa, I would watch my aunty make beautiful Friday night family Shabbat feasts from her tiny apartment – I would ask her questions, take notes on recipes. I really want to preserve their style of cooking which is so innate and relaxed.’
When she returned to Melbourne, she was so inspired by this philosophy of communal eating that she launched Ellie’s Table – a place for her to work through all her ideas and inspiration for food-oriented projects. It hit a culinary nerve. Beginning with the enormously successful ‘Doorstep Deliveries’ during lockdown, and expanding to a pop-up trattoria in Ripponlea late last year, Ellie has come a long way from a makeshift kitchen in a semi-demolished church (the first dining event she ever hosted for her friends!).
Without any formal training, she is now a cook, producer, art director and event manager all rolled into one! What does such an indefinable job description mean for her day-to-day life? Funny you should ask…
First Thing…
I usually wake up around 7am because of the light that streams directly into my room. In saying that, when I have the time I can wake up much later, and love spending part of the morning relaxing in bed.
A ritual I’ve always stuck by in the morning is making my bed – it makes me feel like I’ve already accomplished something in my day! I then put a podcast on and go for a walk, ending the walk most days at my local coffee shop in Balaclava. Or I skip the walk for morning yoga.
No matter the weather I love sitting outside the cafe, it feels fresh and is always nice to have a bit of sun on my face while I have a coffee, read or check emails/write a to-do list for the day. I’m usually not really hungry in the mornings, but if I am it’s hunger for a pastry of some sort.
Morning…
My work schedule isn’t super regular, as my weeks often look quite different. On a week where I have a pop-up, I start working at around 8.30am. I’m not the most efficient person, so I try to start early so I can get a lot done.
When I am planning a pop-up I usually sit at my dining table and untangle the inspiration I have messily collected in my ‘Notes’ folder on my phone, writing/drawing my ideas down properly. Embedded throughout my morning is doing research in cookbooks, or sometimes speaking to my mum and grandmother to chat through food ideas.
One morning a week I’ll speak to my fruit and veg supplier to see what he recommends at that moment, based on the season. I’ll then buy a few ingredients and test recipes in my kitchen at home.
Lunchtime…
I know it seems weird but I don’t often take a proper break for lunch. I snack all day during recipe testing, so I don’t really have proper meals unless my partner is home and forces me to sit down with him. It’s the nature of my work because I’m testing food/creating new dishes all the time. Especially when I am cooking for a Saturday pop-up, I am constantly on my feet, tasting food, which makes it hard to take a moment to sit down and make myself a whole meal.
Some days I will tell a couple of friends or my sisters to come by for lunch and try the dishes I’ve been working on. Other days I will slice off a chunk of bread and eat it with butter and an anchovy – that satisfies me for a while.
Afternoon…
After testing recipes I sit down and break the dishes down and create a menu for that weekend’s pop-up (often the dishes aren’t where I want them to be and I’ll need to do more testing the following days). Once I have a menu I am happy with, I begin on all the admin side of the pop-up. There is a huge amount to work through. I begin contacting my suppliers, create the budgets and online booking forms, and organise the overall running of the event.
I actually feel energised at this time! I do a lot of my best work in the afternoons and into the evening.
Evening…
I don’t have a consistent time that I finish work, I always feel like I could do more. If I’m having friends over for dinner I close my laptop between 6 and 7pm and start cooking.
After testing and thinking about food all day, I like to finish the night with simple food. Recently I’ve been enjoying lentils cooked slowly in a sofrito base glistening with extra virgin olive oil. I sear it off with cured meat like pancetta/salami, herbs and wine. I also find myself craving steamed mussels with crusty bread.
I’ve always loved having people over for dinner as a way to unwind. I know that sounds like a lot of effort after a big day but for me throwing a little “casual” dinner party with my partner gives me a way to do something other than think about my projects. I can just immerse myself in the food I’m making for dinner, drink a glass of wine with friends, and relax.
If I’m not in the mood to cook I love going out to eat at either of my two favourite local restaurants (Claypots or Cicciolina) to have a bowl of pasta, or our favourite cajun flathead, and finish with ice cream down the road.
Last Thing…
Depending on the night I usually get into bed between 10.30 and 11pm.
I would say I normally get a lot of sleep just because I love my bed, but at the same time I have learnt that I can function on almost no sleep when I am doing pop-ups. The adrenaline gets to me, and even if I’ve been up cooking until the early hours I somehow still manage to get up at 5am, bake off 15 trays of focaccia in my small oven and throw a super fun pop-up trattoria party that evening!
Art direction and styling is as much a part of Ellie’s business as her food. Her eye is impeccable! Photo – Amelia Stanwix.
One luscious spread! Pictured is grilled sardines, salsa verde and chilli; fresh focaccia; heirloom tomatoes with marinated figs, local basil and extra virgin olive oil; buffalo mozzarella with thinly shaved melon; Wagyu bresaola with guindilla peppers and parmigiano; fennel and baby pea salad, anchovy, olives and lemon. Photo – Amelia Stanwix.
What are your favourite dishes to cook?
My favourite dishes to cook usually involve anchovies, white wine and good extra virgin olive oil. One of my favourites is thick spaghetti with vongole (clams) and lots of fresh chilli and garlic. Artichoke are also a nostalgic favourite. We used to eat them as kids at my grandfather’s house – my Dad would show us how to peel back the layers until you reached the artichoke heart. Now I boil them whole for dinner parties. I usually make a buttery lemon vinaigrette or salsa verde to dip the leaves into.
If borlotti beans are in season I gently boil a bunch with herbs and add them into the marinade to eat with fresh buffalo mozzarella and the artichoke hearts. An indulgent weeknight staple for me is ragu bianco (a luscious meat sauce cooked low and slow with white wine and pure milk).
Right now I’m listening to, watching, and reading…
Listening: I listen to The Daily every morning but I also love Modern Love the podcast, it’s so good!
Watching: I am currently watching Shtisel on Netflix. I am also always in the middle of an episode of Seinfeld – it’s the best!
Reading: Girl, Woman, Other by Bernardine Evaristo
I get my best work done when…
I get to create a food event that I would love to attend myself; I can be as creative and free with my menu ideas, set-up and location.
My productivity tool/tip is…
When planning a food event/pop-up for over 100 people I often get super overwhelmed by the amount of tasks I need to get through in a day. I know it sounds simple, but writing down lists of things really helps me envision my day and work through my tasks. Also calling someone you’re close to (for me it’s my sister) to talk out your plan helps to make things less daunting and build confidence in getting started.
A philosophy I live and work by is…
Eat beautiful food and drink wine with friends, family and loved ones. Be generous and host meals. You don’t need to spend a lot to throw a lush feast.
Something I’ve learned the hard way is…
Let go! Don’t overthink your work or projects too much, it’s not worth the stress. Obviously work hard to achieve your desired outcomes, but don’t get too heavy about it. I am still learning this and I definitely doubt myself most of the time, but I am working on it!
Loving Ellie’s food and writing? Her fortnightly newsletter, ‘Ellie’s Notebook’ was launched today. Subscribe here for more intimate musings on what she’s cooking, where she’s eating, rough recipes + bits and pieces from her camera roll. Keep up with all the Ellie’s Table happenings on her Instagram here.
Even though she’s been cooking all day, sometimes Ellie’s favourite way to unwind is to cook for friends. Being surrounded by people and food is the best way to relax. Photo – Amelia Stanwix.
‘I know that sounds like a lot of effort after a big day but for me throwing a little “casual” dinner party with my partner gives me a way to do something other than think about my projects,’ she says. Photo – Amelia Stanwix.
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An Act of Political Sacrifice
Part: (Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5)
Fandom: Hamilton (Modern AU)
Pairing: Alex x Eliza
Rating: PG for swearing
Word count: 3.2k words
Warning: Historical inaccuracies for the sake of convenience, Philip is a baby, adultery, angst, inappropriate language, therapy, infidelity, really angsty
Summary: Elizabeth Hamilton, with a wonderful career, loving husband, and a child, is satisfied in life. How does she handle it when her husband who could never be satisfied pulls the rug out from under her, destroying everything she held close to her heart?
Alexander Hamilton hadn't heard his wife's voice since the last time she was in their apartment over two months ago. Any conversation between them occurred only when there was a change of plans in picking up Philip from his daycare, and they took place only via text messages. Nothing more, nothing less. So, when the man heard the ringtone he had assigned only to her, he was afraid that it was bad news. Was Eliza alright?
"Eliza?" he spoke into his phone.
"Shit! Sorry, I- I don't know what I was thinking," she sounded nasal like she had a cold or was crying. He knew it was the latter, but he wished it was the former.
"Are you okay?" He asked, getting off his bed and putting on his glasses.
"I don't know," she said through sniffles.
"Shall I come over?" Alex didn't bother waiting for her to reply as he grabbed his keys on his way to the front door, while still in his pajamas.
When Eliza said, "If you're free, please?", the man was already in his car.
"Be there in ten."
Eliza had moved temporarily into an empty apartment owned by her family as she didn't feel very comfortable surrounded by all the pity and advice from visiting relatives. Her father tried reasoning with her over concerns for her safety, but she was adamant in her decision as always.
When he reached Eliza's new residence, she was picking up Philip's scattered toys off the floor and throwing them in a large white basket. He said nothing as he helped her with the remaining toys. When he shrieked as he stepped over a piece of lego, he caught the corners of her lips turn slightly upward in amusement.
"Why does he even have legos?" They had agreed to get him legos for his third birthday, which was only a month away.
"Well, the two Philips had gone out for grandfather- grandson bonding time and came back with everything they could fit inside the car," she chuckled, throwing in the last piece in the box that Alexander had handed her.
"He spoils the kid too much," he said, wishing for a second that his father had gotten to know Philip, but rolling his eyes internally when he recalled that the man couldn't be bothered to attend his wedding.
"Tell me about it," she said, stowing away the box in a mostly empty shelf. He followed her into the kitchen like a new puppy while she talked about her father's bond with their son.
"It's eleven, and you're having dinner now?" he asked as she helped herself to some pasta. She always ate on time and made sure he did too, being the overly health conscious person she was.
"I wasn't in the mood. You want some? I wasn't paying attention and made the usual quantity."
They sat on the couch as they ate together in silence. He was thankful she made more for three reasons: he didn't have dinner, he missed how tasty her dishes were, and mostly because she said she cooked for him as well out of practice. It gave him hope.
"I was sleepy and made coffee for you yesterday morning," he confessed. When he realized what he had done, he threw the contents down the sink, annoyed with himself, and left for work as quick as possible. She paused playing with her fork and looked up from her plate.
"Philip knows something's going on," she sighed, putting down the fork.
"What? How?"
"Kids know such things, they're not stupid. We don't go out on the weekends anymore, dad or mom are here everyday to check on us, he lives in two separate houses on alternate days, he doesn't see the two of us together," she threw her hands up in the air in frustration and brought them back to the table with a thud.
"He asked me why we were fighting when I was reading a story to him before bed and I didn't know what to say. I just told him to sleep. God, I'm such a bad mother." She rested her elbows on the table and buried her face in her palms. Alex hurried to her side and she hugged him while he caressed her hair.
"I'm so scared. I don't know what I'm doing and I can't even talk to anyone because I feel so ashamed. Karen- you know, that asshole Karen- she was suddenly too friendly with mum, inviting herself over and shit. One day, she just brought her son over and began ranting about how much better my life would've been if I married him."
"Who, John?" He released her from the hug and went back to his chair, recalling Eliza mentioning how the woman was pestering her parents to have her married to her son. She even dated the creature for a month before dumping him just so that she could get the woman off her case. Alex hated him and made it a habit to address him by the wrong name whenever they met at social gatherings.
"It's Jeff," she pointed out, rolling her eyes.
"Same thing, Eliza."
She shook her head in disbelief and continued, "That's not the point. I just couldn't be there. I felt like a burden to mom and dad because they defend me against those people."
"I'm sure they don't consider you a burden." Alex took her hand in hers and entwined his fingers with hers, just like he always did when she needed comfort.
"I know, but still. They all act so weird around me, or I was just overanalysing everything. Either way, I wasn't very comfortable there."
They ate in silence and settled on the couch once they were done and watched Toy Story 3 for what felt like the hundredth time. The clock was ticking and he was drowsy. He knew he had to leave and get some sleep if he wanted to be functional the next day, but the way her fingers unconsciously played with his made him want to be there forever. He didn't even make a noise, afraid that she might stop if she realized what she was doing.
"How have you been?" she asked, seemingly out of nowhere. She looked up from his shoulder with her beautiful round eyes, and god damn they looked so beautiful in the dim light of the television.
"I'm okay," he answered, halfheartedly. He didn't know whether to pour out his heart to her or pretend everything was okay. All he knew was that he didn't want an argument.
"Hercules doesn't think so."
"When did you talk to him?" He should ask Mulligan to shut his mouth and not go around annoying wife about him. She probably didn't want to hear it anyway.
"Does it matter?"
"I just don't want to whine to you about the problem I created for myself, especially when it hurt you the most," Alex confessed as he caressed her cheek with his thumb.
"You shouldn't bottle it all up, it's not good," she said, giving his arm a little squeeze. His dear Betsey was the only one kind enough to sympathize with those who hurt her.
"I know," he breathed, giving her a chaste kiss on her forehead. He didn't want to overstep his physical boundaries with her and it was especially difficult as he didn't know where it was.
"Maybe we should try therapy. Together," she said playing with the strings of her pyjama pants.
"For what?"
"To get better. I read that couples therapy is good for this sort of thing." She was no longer looking at him, her lap seemed more interesting to her with the way she was staring at it.
"This sort of thing? What do you even mean?" He demanded, his fingers guiding her chin to look at him.
"Infidelity."
"Eliza, there's nothing wrong with our marriage, it's just me. I'm a dick," he exclaimed. Her suggestion that something was so wrong with their marriage that they needed therapy was insulting.
"Alexander," she tried to grab his attention, but he was busy trying to convince her that they didn't need any of that shrink crap. They just took money to make people talk to each other. He could do that on his own time with his wife without a fucking chaperone.
"Alexander! I can't do this alone."
"You're not going to do it alone. You have me. We'll work it out together. We're the experts at our own marriage, not some outsider." They had been fixing their problems by themselves perfectly well and didn't need someone else to do it for them.
"Everytime I try to talk to you about it, I'm too furious to think rationally. We can't do this on our own. Maybe you can, but I can't!" she exclaimed, her eyes pleading with his own.
"It's normal to get angry." And right, he thought.
"Yeah, but it's very unhealthy and won't be good in the long run. Listen, I don't want to force you if it's something you don't want to do, but please give it a thought before outright rejecting it."
"I can't saw the elephants, daddy," Philip pouted as he tugged his father's pants to get his attention. In response, Alex carried the boy and sat him on his shoulder, wincing slightly as he gripped his hair in fear of falling off.
"Can you, now?"
"Yes!" He squealed playfully as he began narrating a story he heard from his friend about elephants.
"Why does it have a tail in the front?"
"It's called a trunk, honey," Eliza answered as she tried to suppress her laughter.
"Why does it have that?"
"We have our hands to eat and carry things. Elephants have a trunk instead."
"Then, it should have two trunks, not one. I can't do anything with one hand, like clap," he said, trying to clap with one hand as a way of proving that it wouldn't work.
It was Philip's birthday and the first time the family was together since the news of the affair was published. Their son, being the animal enthusiast he was begged them to take him to the zoo when asked what he wanted for his birthday. The boy was full of questions about animals, including the monkeys who were having sex. He and Eliza answered his every question to the best of their knowledge and googled the ones they couldn't.
After a while, they sat down on a bench in front of the meerkat exhibit as Eliza was too tired to walk, while Philip entertained himself watching the animals run back and forth.
At eighteen weeks into her pregnancy, Alexander could notice Eliza's cute little baby bump that reminded him of the time they were expecting Philip. She was explaining to him the size of their baby (only the size of a can of cola, apparently), how it was punching and kicking and even yawning. It had distinct ears and started developing eyebrows.
"When do you have to go to the doctor next?" he asked as he watched her rummage through their bag for snacks like a raccoon in the trash. This comparison had earned him a glare years before, which reminded him to keep the comment to himself this time.
"Tomorrow. It's good that you asked. Can you take Phil home tonight because it's an early appointment and I won't have time to take him to the daycare," she said before biting into an apple. Their kid hated hospitals and he knew it wasn't an option for Eliza to take him along with her. But, it wasn't what he had in mind when he asked her about it.
"Well- umm- okay," he tried to argue but agreed to her request.
"You don't sound okay. You don't have to if you're busy. I could drop him off with Dad. He's been complaining about not seeing his grandson enough."
"Betsey, I'm not busy at all. I just thought I could come with you." He was in fact very busy, but she didn't have to know that. He could think of an appointment that could be attended by his subordinates and wouldn't need his presence. If Eliza drifter farther away from him, he would lose her and his family entirely.
She looked wide-eyed at him with her mouth full of apple, her surprise indicating how unusual he was being. He had gone with Eliza for only three of her appointments when she was previously pregnant. She signalled him to wait for a second before she hurriedly swallowed it.
"Alexander, you don't have to," she trailed and continued once she found the perfect word, "overcompensate. You're probably very busy."
"I'm never too busy for my family," he defended immediately. Eliza raised an eyebrow challengingly as she bit into the apple almost angrily. She then shook her head and looked back at him with a more neutral expression.
"We're going to fight about this, aren't we?" she chuckled.
"Seems like that's all we do these days," he said sorrowfully, hanging his head low. She moved closer to him on the bench and rested her head on his shoulder and he took her hand in his.
"I wish it never happened," she whispered so quietly, he didn't know if he was meant to hear it. She didn't have to mention what it meant.
"Me too, Betsey. Me too."
Eliza invited him into her apartment when Alex dropped her off after they left their son at the Schuyler mansion, and he gladly went in. The rest of the day went by well. They walked around the zoo slowly until Philip's legs gave out and began falling asleep on his dad's shoulder. They went to his favorite restaurant where he became full right after drinking a small bowl of tomato soup. The conversation had made things uncomfortable for the pair, but they ignored it in favor of putting up an act in front of their kid who seemed happy after a long time to be out with both of his parents.
"You're too silent these days," she commented as she took his coat from him.
"I could say the same about you," he countered as he fell back on the couch.
"Well, it's true, but I have the capability to remain silent and we know very well that you can't go more than a minute without speaking in detail about something or the other," she pointed out.
She switched on the television before she walked to the kitchen to fetch them water. The television, unfortunately, opened on a news channel on which people seemed to be debating him and his affair in particular. Has she forgiven him? There was even a picture of them from today. His wife was elaborately discussed, angering him to no ends. Eliza didn't seem at all bothered by the subject of the program until she changed the channel to one that showed close up images of food.
He hated her new apartment and everything that was in it. It was complete, just like their home that she hadn't stepped into for months. It was fully furnished with the best furniture, her clothes were kept in her wardrobe as though they belonged there, their son had a room and a new set of everything he had back home. It looked like she had moved in permanently.
"It's dad. He didn't tell me anything, but I think he hates you," she said, taking a sip of water.
"That's an understatement," he huffed, recalling the fire in his eyes not too long ago when they dropped Philip off.
"Yeah, well. He's been buying things for the place I never asked for. It's nothing to worry about. He'll come around soon,”she shrugged.
"It's not really him that I'm worried about," he said, putting his legs up on the coffee table. He didn't like to do that usually, but the furniture here could get all muddy and ugly for all he cared.
"Well, you should be, Hamilton. He might issue a reward for whomever beheads you. Whenever he comes home, he bitches about you like you bitch about Jefferson and Burr."
"Have you moved on?" he asked, taking notice of a particular word. Home. This wasn’t her home.
"What? No, I haven't."
"It looks like you have. You look so comfortable in this house- you called it home and I hate that. This is not- it can't be your home. You have your things lying around everywhere and this place is so lived in and it seems that you've decided to leave our home permanently."
"I don't think I can come back there, Alexander."
"What do you mean? It's our home!"
"It was! Now that I know what you did there, it feels so, ugh," she grunted as she clenched her fists, "disgusting."
"So you're never coming home. This is your decision," he deadpanned. He should've expected this. When Eliza finally met him after asking for time apart to think, he didn't think the duration was forever. She tried to interrupt him, but he put no effort into listening to her as he poured out his frustrations.
"What about going to therapy? I thought you wanted us to get better. Have you changed your mind?" he asked, searching his memory for any instance in which he hurt her enough for her to stop considering repair.
"Alexander!" Eliza's voice brought him back to reality from the depths of his mind.
"Listen to me. My not coming there has nothing to do with my decision regarding the continuity of our marriage. I don't want to return, not because I want to be separated from you- legally or otherwise, but because it's no longer my home. Do you remember how long it took us to save up enough money to buy that place? The day we moved in? All our funds were locked up and we didn't have enough for groceries. We were hungry, but never happier. It was where we fought, made love, had our child," she paused to gasp.
"I thought it was ours, I thought our home was as special to you as it was to me, but you willingly brought some girl to our home, our bed, and God knows where else."
"So, you're not giving up on our marriage?" he asked hopefully, ignoring her words about their home. He understood why she felt the way she did. The fact that they would never live together in their home was painful, but her answer was more than enough for him to hope for a new beginning in a new home.
"How could I? I've loved you for so long that I can't recall myself before you or imagine myself in the future without you. You've been a good husband to me and a wonderful father to Phil, and I have no doubts that you'll be good to next one." There was a hint of a smile as she touched her belly endearingly.
"You've done something truly horrifying and as much as I'm supposed to shun you from my life for it, I can't because you've been nothing but absolutely sincere in your apologies and actions. I'm terrified of being with you again, of giving you all the broken pieces of my heart because you still wield the power break them to a point of no return,” she said, her voice as vulnerable as it was when she vowed to stand by him for sickness and in health.
"I'll never hurt you ever again, I promise," he choked on his own voice as he buried his face in the crook of her neck as he selfishly took in the comfort of her presence yet again. She let him take her guest bedroom and before that, he kissed her belly and promised their daughter- he wished it was a girl- to be the father she deserved, and the husband her mother deserved.
#hamilton#alexander hamilton#eliza hamilton#elizabeth schuyler#the reynolds pamphlet#hamilton modern au#hamilton imagine#modern hamliza#hamliza#hamilton x eliza#alexander x eliza#hamilton fanfic#angst
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Last Tuesday was Valentine’s Day. The Sunday before that, I’d met this girl Liz at Big Chill because we were doing a presentation together and it turns out she lives in Angel making it beyond convenient for both of us to not have to go all the way to Ken. Liz is from California and very cool. We hit it off and spent most of our time just talking while I filled her in on Richmond gossip (this is only her second semester) and told probably too much about some of my adventures. Ah, well. Anyways, B@1 was doing 2 for 2 cocktails all night on Tuesday and Penny had a course mates party to attend so I invited Liz to join me. Penny met up with us a bit later in the night. Arjun was working when I got there and he was in a particularly good mood it seemed. I was wearing my red jeans and that black shirt that I really shouldn’t be left alone in. Eventually, Liz showed up and we started drinking. And oh god, did we drink. Becky and Oskar were both working as well so there was a predictable amount of free alcohol being tossed around. Oskar kept handing us shots of Jaeger and Becky kept forgetting to ring us up before moving on to the next customer. By 11:30 we were all pretty drunk. I was properly wasted. At midnight, it was officially my 21st birthday and the bartenders all exploded with excitement as they put some song with the word ‘birthday’ in it on and gave us more shots to toast with. It was a lot of fun (I’m supposing) but I probably should have stopped drinking at some point. I’m thinking before the free beer Oskar handed me would have been a good place for that. But nooo, it was my birthday! That’s pretty much where the night ends for me (conscious! Me at least) and Penny was left to get us home.
Apparently, when I’m blacked out I walk around in circles and yell about stuff. Considering that that’s a pretty good description of what it’s like in my head almost constantly this is not really a surprise to me. Anyways, so while Penny was corralling me back to the flat some guy was following us doing the charming yelling and being insane routine. Big Chill had just closed and there was a group of guys standing out front. Pen walked up and asked if they could pretend to be our boyfriends for a minute. They politely declined like the gentlemen I’m sure they are. So, Penny caught Atilla’s eye through the window and he came to let us in. I’m not being crazy, blacked out!Brittany in Big Chill while we attempt to lose the guy. Dawid, I’m told, was laughing so hard he couldn’t stand up and Sherlock was confused. He asked Penny why I was so drunk and she goes, “It’s Valentine’s Day and it’s her birthday.” Sherlock nodded understandingly. After a few more wacky adventures, we eventually walked out a weird side entrance into the alley behind the building. I’m just realising how unsafe that sounds. Ah well. We made it home and Penny left me to go make me Easy Mac (she has it sent here especially and I’ve literally never been allowed to eat it before) and ramen for herself. She came back to find me completely passed out, dead to the world. She was thus forced to eat both my Easy Mac and her ramen and to leave me a hilarious post on my FB wall to read in the morning: reasons you love me: i remembered and alerted the bar(s) that it was ur bday. i got you home. i am not eating both american american easymac and aussie 2 minute noodles cuz one was supposed be yours. happy birttany’s birthDAYYYYYYY!
Amazing. What wasn’t amazing was waking up the next morning. I’d slept in my shirt and all of my jewelry. My boots and jeans were on the floor next to my bed. This wouldn’t have been a bad thing if I hadn’t vomitted in my sleep over the side of the bed. I’d managed to only really hit one boot and the waistband of my jeans but it was still disgusting. There is nothing to make you reevalute your life decisions like cleaning up your own vomit on a Wednesday morning when you’re hungover as hell. I’m just glad I didn’t stain the white duvet cover. I will never understand why Penny thought that was a good choice for a guest bed. After cleaning up, I turned on the shower and just sat in the bathtub for a while. I couldn’t even handle standing in the shower at that point. So. Fucking. Hungover. When Pen woke up and we moved to the living room I checked my email and found one from my school’s security. My bag had been turned in and was at Islington police station. The strap had broken the night before but I didn’t know I’d lost it. My phone was next to my bed when I woke up and my iPod was in the middle of the floor. I’d just assumed my bag was in the flat somewhere. No idea how it got to Islignton. Our theory is that I got sick of carrying it, set it down somewhere and went “Shh… you stay there.” This is entirely likely. So, my 21st birthday included not only waking up in a puddle of my own vomit but a trip to a police station. Yeah. Oh right, also I have no idea what I did but I couldn’t put weight on my right knee all day. It hurt so badly. And there were two bruises on the palm of my right hand. I’m thinking I made contact with a floor of some sort but god only knows.
After we went and got my bag (with everything in it except for my UK debit card. Figures.) we went to Oxford St and did some shopping. I bought this really cute sweater with a dog on it and a t-shirt by Electric Sheep that says “London Calling” on it from Topshop. I also got a top from Forever 21, a dress I’m returning, and a cardigan from Zara. All in all, a pretty successful shopping day. We went back to the flat afterwards and watched HIMYM and ate Chinese food before I went home. I took a bath and went to bed. It was one of those days when I was incredibly happy to have been in my own bed. The next day I went to my first class then went to Westfield to buy a dress for my birthday party on Saturday. I ended up with this really cute black dress with white stars on it from H&M. It fits really well and the pockets make me want to wear it constantly. Penny and I then ventured into Richmond to go see my school’s production of the Vagina Monologues. I’m going to breeze right past that into Friday and Lidia’s birthday party.
Lidia lives in this super nice flat in Imperial Wharf. Penny and I wore our new cute outfits and made our way out there. We got there around 9:30, 10:00 and Lidia was already off her face. There were a bunch of girls I didn’t know and Lidia’s boyfriend. As the night went on more people showed up and it turned into a proper party. I wasn’t drinking because I didn’t want to be hungover and then not be able to drink at my own party the next night. Also, there were enough people smoking in that flat that I didn’t need to smoke. And this wasn’t some shitty stuff someone bought off a random in Kingston or what a vast number of Greenwich Uni students were used to smoking. It was really good, proper weed. It was almost American it was that good. Arushi is this girl I go to school with that Penny used to be friends with so she went over to talk about procuring a supply of our own. Holy Christ. I always need weed was expensive in this city but I didn’t realise what that actually meant. For a really tiny quantity we paid £40. That’s almost $80. I really need to stop doing conversions about stuff like that. So we’re mingling a bit and making new friends with pot until I end up talking to this guy Andrew. He was American but had lived everywhere because his dad worked for USAID, who I’d applied for an internship with that I really, really want. I had a nice chat with him including the story of his mom getting kidnapped somewhere in Africa. Stories like that should really warn me aware from my career choices but it somehow makes it more appealing.
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Last Tuesday was Valentine's Day. The Sunday before that, I'd met this girl Liz at Big Chill because we were doing a presentation together and it turns out she lives in Angel making it beyond convenient for both of us to not have to go all the way to Ken. Liz is from California and very cool. We hit it off and spent most of our time just talking while I filled her in on Richmond gossip (this is only her second semester) and told probably too much about some of my adventures. Ah, well. Anyways, B@1 was doing 2 for 2 cocktails all night on Tuesday and Penny had a course mates party to attend so I invited Liz to join me. Penny met up with us a bit later in the night. Arjun was working when I got there and he was in a particularly good mood it seemed. I was wearing my red jeans and that black shirt that I really shouldn't be left alone in. Eventually, Liz showed up and we started drinking. And oh god, did we drink. Becky and Oskar were both working as well so there was a predictable amount of free alcohol being tossed around. Oskar kept handing us shots of Jaeger and Becky kept forgetting to ring us up before moving on to the next customer. By 11:30 we were all pretty drunk. I was properly wasted. At midnight, it was officially my 21st birthday and the bartenders all exploded with excitement as they put some song with the word 'birthday' in it on and gave us more shots to toast with. It was a lot of fun (I'm supposing) but I probably should have stopped drinking at some point. I'm thinking before the free beer Oskar handed me would have been a good place for that. But nooo, it was my birthday! That's pretty much where the night ends for me (conscious! Me at least) and Penny was left to get us home.
Apparently, when I'm blacked out I walk around in circles and yell about stuff. Considering that that's a pretty good description of what it's like in my head almost constantly this is not really a surprise to me. Anyways, so while Penny was corralling me back to the flat some guy was following us doing the charming yelling and being insane routine. Big Chill had just closed and there was a group of guys standing out front. Pen walked up and asked if they could pretend to be our boyfriends for a minute. They politely declined like the gentlemen I'm sure they are. So, Penny caught Atilla's eye through the window and he came to let us in. I'm not being crazy, blacked out!Brittany in Big Chill while we attempt to lose the guy. Dawid, I'm told, was laughing so hard he couldn't stand up and Sherlock was confused. He asked Penny why I was so drunk and she goes, "It's Valentine's Day and it's her birthday." Sherlock nodded understandingly. After a few more wacky adventures, we eventually walked out a weird side entrance into the alley behind the building. I'm just realising how unsafe that sounds. Ah well. We made it home and Penny left me to go make me Easy Mac (she has it sent here especially and I've literally never been allowed to eat it before) and ramen for herself. She came back to find me completely passed out, dead to the world. She was thus forced to eat both my Easy Mac and her ramen and to leave me a hilarious post on my FB wall to read in the morning: reasons you love me: i remembered and alerted the bar(s) that it was ur bday. i got you home. i am not eating both american american easymac and aussie 2 minute noodles cuz one was supposed be yours. happy birttany's birthDAYYYYYYY!
Amazing. What wasn't amazing was waking up the next morning. I'd slept in my shirt and all of my jewelry. My boots and jeans were on the floor next to my bed. This wouldn't have been a bad thing if I hadn't vomitted in my sleep over the side of the bed. I'd managed to only really hit one boot and the waistband of my jeans but it was still disgusting. There is nothing to make you reevalute your life decisions like cleaning up your own vomit on a Wednesday morning when you're hungover as hell. I'm just glad I didn't stain the white duvet cover. I will never understand why Penny thought that was a good choice for a guest bed. After cleaning up, I turned on the shower and just sat in the bathtub for a while. I couldn't even handle standing in the shower at that point. So. Fucking. Hungover. When Pen woke up and we moved to the living room I checked my email and found one from my school's security. My bag had been turned in and was at Islington police station. The strap had broken the night before but I didn't know I'd lost it. My phone was next to my bed when I woke up and my iPod was in the middle of the floor. I'd just assumed my bag was in the flat somewhere. No idea how it got to Islignton. Our theory is that I got sick of carrying it, set it down somewhere and went "Shh... you stay there." This is entirely likely. So, my 21st birthday included not only waking up in a puddle of my own vomit but a trip to a police station. Yeah. Oh right, also I have no idea what I did but I couldn't put weight on my right knee all day. It hurt so badly. And there were two bruises on the palm of my right hand. I'm thinking I made contact with a floor of some sort but god only knows.
After we went and got my bag (with everything in it except for my UK debit card. Figures.) we went to Oxford St and did some shopping. I bought this really cute sweater with a dog on it and a t-shirt by Electric Sheep that says "London Calling" on it from Topshop. I also got a top from Forever 21, a dress I'm returning, and a cardigan from Zara. All in all, a pretty successful shopping day. We went back to the flat afterwards and watched HIMYM and ate Chinese food before I went home. I took a bath and went to bed. It was one of those days when I was incredibly happy to have been in my own bed. The next day I went to my first class then went to Westfield to buy a dress for my birthday party on Saturday. I ended up with this really cute black dress with white stars on it from H&M. It fits really well and the pockets make me want to wear it constantly. Penny and I then ventured into Richmond to go see my school's production of the Vagina Monologues. I'm going to breeze right past that into Friday and Lidia's birthday party.
Lidia lives in this super nice flat in Imperial Wharf. Penny and I wore our new cute outfits and made our way out there. We got there around 9:30, 10:00 and Lidia was already off her face. There were a bunch of girls I didn't know and Lidia's boyfriend. As the night went on more people showed up and it turned into a proper party. I wasn't drinking because I didn't want to be hungover and then not be able to drink at my own party the next night. Also, there were enough people smoking in that flat that I didn't need to smoke. And this wasn't some shitty stuff someone bought off a random in Kingston or what a vast number of Greenwich Uni students were used to smoking. It was really good, proper weed. It was almost American it was that good. Arushi is this girl I go to school with that Penny used to be friends with so she went over to talk about procuring a supply of our own. Holy christ. I always need weed was expensive in this city but I didn't realise what that actually meant. For a really tiny quantity we paid £40. That's almost $80. I really need to stop doing conversions about stuff like that. So we're mingling a bit and making new friends with pot until I end up talking to this guy Andrew. He was American but had lived everywhere because his dad worked for USAID, who I'd applied for an internship with that I really, really want. I had a nice chat with him including the story of his mom getting kidnapped somewhere in Africa. Stories like that should really warn me aware from my career choices but it somehow makes it more appealing.
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Psychology of Eating Podcast Episode #179: A Doctor Rediscovers Self Care
As a doctor, Dan has devoted his life and energy to helping others heal. Lately, though, he finds his own energy is dropping day by day. Waking up exhausted and feeling burned, Dan feels embarrassed that even his patients are beginning to notice. When his blood tests did not reveal anything unusual, Dan is feeling tapped out looking for answers. In this breakthrough session, Marc David, Founder of the Institute for the Psychology of Eating, works with Dan to uncover what’s really behind his fatigue. As a father, the primary breadwinner, busy professional, and someone who is in the beginning stages of building a new clinic with colleagues, Dan’s body is tapped out. Dan owns up to how he has to take more responsibility for his self-care. Find out what he discovers and listen in on this eye opening, humbling, and inspiring conversation.
Below is a transcript of this podcast episode:
Marc: Welcome, everybody. I’m Marc David, founder of the Institute for the Psychology of Eating. We are back in the Psychology of Eating podcast, and I’m with Dan today. Welcome, Dan.
Dan: Hello. How are you guys?
Marc: I am doing good. Let me just take a moment and check in with viewers and listeners who are new to the podcast. Let me tell you how it works. Dan and I have just been kind of hanging out for a few minutes before we jumped on here. So we’re meeting for the first time. We’re going to have a session for about an hour or less and see if we can do some smart things and move the needle forward and push the fast forward button and hopefully get to a good place.
So, Dr. Dan—I’m going to call you—if you could just wave your magic wand and come out from this conversation with something that would be really useful for you, what would that outcome be?
Dan: Probably to find more energy is the number one. I’m kind of constantly exhausted these days. In a way, I just feel like my life is disorganized. I feel like I’m reacting to things rather than responding necessarily. I feel like time management is a massive issue of mine, and that’s probably feeding into the exhaustion. To tell you the truth, my eating has been a bit dodgy as well, and I think that it’s all related perhaps. If I could get anything out of this, I’d love to get some good health habits, routine, and just to delve into why I guess I’m doing this. I’m at a bit of a loss.
Marc: Good question. I love that. I love that. I love that. Thanks for being so honest. Why don’t you give us a sense, give me a sense what’s—talk about how your life looks these days and what is life for you.
Dan: Well, I’m 38. I’m a GP, so that’s a family physician I think in the US there. I’m also an acupuncturist, so I do acupuncture. I work in a relatively straight-laced, I guess, general practice for four days a week. And I try to bring in my style of care which is, I’d like to think, more holistic and whatnot.
But then one day a week I’m now just starting a practice with a number of other great professionals, I guess, yoga teachers, craniosacral masseuses, naturopaths. So I’m trying to get that off the ground as well. And so, that’s very exciting. I’ve been wanting to do that kind of thing for a long time now.
I’m married and have a lovely 5-year-old boy.
Marc: Yay.
Dan: He is energy, energy, energy. He’s great. He’s lovely, but he’s tiring is all. And, yeah, married, I think, happily. And live in a beautiful area on the beach close to a rainforest. So all on that surface it’s exciting and whatnot. I think the main thing is that I’m waking up just blasted, just wanting to go back to sleep. I’m just exhausted all the time.
At work, particularly, that’s the more concerning thing for me. The more fatigue I get the less I find I’m able to I guess be present with the people I’m with, the clients.
That is a worry of mine because I don’t want that to get any worse. It’s very much my passion, and my heart is in that setting. That’s where I’m at I guess. I have weekends off on the whole, and they’re pretty nice.
My wife’s family live around about an hour away, and we often drive up there to catch up. Otherwise, summer’s coming down here. It’s lovely. It’s getting really hot actually, so I get to the beach. There’s a creek, a lovely creek, nearby. We have a pool, so I go falling in that now and again. I’m very much—I feel like I have nothing to complain about. I’m quite happy and blessed in that way, but in many other ways I feel kind of stuck. I don’t know.
Marc: How many hours a week have you been working?
Dan: I have a very civilized start of a quarter past nine, so that’s kind of nice. I normally get home around about 6-6:30, and that’s Monday to Thursdays. On Fridays, we’ve just moved to a different location in this new practice. So we’re kind of still figuring out the bugs of it all. Normally, I work there from nine to probably one o’clock, still kind of finding clients. It’s really at the very beginning of that practice.
Marc: Sure. And are you the primary breadwinner in your family?
Dan: I am. My wife just graduated from primary school teaching, and she’s just getting some jobs now, just casual jobs. But for a long time, decades. I’ve been married to my wife for ages now. And most of that time I have been the primary breadwinner, particularly once Elijah, my son, was born.
Marc: Yes. How long has it been that you’ve been feeling a little burned out?
Dan: It’s been getting worse over probably the last five years I think. It’s only really got me now where I actually have patients or clients who are telling me I look exhausted like I haven’t slept or whatnot. That’s always a little bit embarrassing when you have someone coming in who’s sick and then telling me that I look horrible, which is probably true. That’s the thing. I’m not putting them out.
Marc: So why do you think you’ve hit this point? Do you think it’s overwork? Do you think it’s stress? Is it both? If you were diagnosing yourself—you’re a smart guy—what are some of your thoughts?
Dan: I don’t think I have a very good balance in terms of… I’m giving myself at work I guess, and when I come home, I’m with my family and I love that. But there’ll be a certain point where Elijah goes to bed, my son goes to bed, and I feel that’s my time. And it’s kind of my only time sometimes. As a result, I stay up quite late. The later I stay up, the more I kind of do little snacks of—it seems healthy, but just the quantity sizes are crazy.
So I’m getting into nuts. I have a particular weakness for cheese, I have to admit. I’m just eating kind of snack foods in general—and also sugar—at anywhere between nine to 12 sometimes, 12:30. I feel like that’s got out of hand. I’m not completely sure why that’s got out of hand. So I’m a bit stumped I guess in terms of diagnosing myself, and I’m also aware that I think if I came to a conclusion it’s probably going to be pretty biased as well.
Marc: So then these days, what time are you usually roughly asleep by?
Dan: I’m trying to make an effort to go to sleep before 10, but realistically, these days, 11:30 or 12 would be a normal night for me.
Marc: Got it. And then you’re up at what time?
Dan: Around seven or 7:30.
Marc: Okay. So then maybe you get about seven, eight hours of sleep at the most is what it sounds like.
Dan: Yeah. Yeah, I guess so. Elijah always has to jump on me and kind of semi wake me up and, ugh, and that kind of grumpy dad in the morning. But, yes, probably seven hours.
Marc: Let me ask you this question. Are you under a physician’s care? Are you under somebody’s care who you trust, you like, and looking at your labs and all that sort of thing?
Dan: No. As a general rule, I think doctors make the worst patients.
Marc: Oh, they do. 100% agree. 100% agree.
Dan: Yeah.
Marc: Here’s a challenge. Doctors make the worst patients, but doctors also have some of the most bizarre pressure on them of just about any profession because we want our doctors to be gods.
We want them to be right. We want them to do everything right because you doing everything right means my health is going to be safe. The training of a doctor is a burnout kind of training.
Dan: Yeah.
Marc: So the training itself basically teaches you to be in a lifestyle that’s impossible to maintain, a work-style. So doctors are really given a very odd beginning which is push, push, push, push, push. Some of them shake it off, and some don’t because it has its demands, depending on where you’re working, what hospital, etc. So all I’m saying is that I feel for you because the odd thing is here you are in this profession, but you’re an insider so you can’t always get the best of it in a weird way.
Dan: Yeah.
Marc: Is there somebody that you have in mind who’s local to you that you would say, “Ok, I could trust that person”? Somebody who’s got some good distinctions and good training and good skills who can help you do a little bit of detective work.
Dan: Yeah, there is. There’s someone who I work with. I used to be a nurse before I was a doctor, and he used to be a nurse as well before he was a doctor. And he’s a good guy, and he does understand that holistic side. I’ve gone to him in the past, years ago, for random signatures here and there for a driver’s license or whatnot. Yeah, he’s probably the guy to go to. You’re right. It’s easy to get embarrassed, I think.
Marc: Yeah. First and foremost, Dan, what I’m wanting for you is—what I’m getting from what you just shared it’s like you pour your heart and soul into what you’re doing, your life, your family, your work, and you’re feeling a little fried. We don’t know exactly why. There could be something going on. There could be some metabolic issue.
There could be some imbalance going on. And the challenge is you’re a doctor, so you’re around this stuff. Part of you wants to be immune to it all.
Dan: Pretty much.
Marc: Part of you wants to be immune. I get it. Well, if I’m a doctor, I shouldn’t get sick. And there’s a level where I can totally relate. I can totally relate because I have self-treated myself forever. Forever. And I’ve had to stop that because I also hit a burnout point, and the hardest thing about hitting the burnout point was having to admit to myself that I can’t do this alone. I don’t want to figure it out. I literally don’t want to figure it out by myself. It’s too hard. It’s too hard. It’s hard to have your patients be your relatives, your kids, and yourself.
Dan: I understand.
Marc: It’s very difficult.
Dan: Yeah.
Marc: All I’m trying to say is to me I want to see you start to get people who are supporting you and in your corner and where you could just go, “Hey, tell me what to do. What do you think? How should we proceed?” But it has to be people that you trust. Because I would love to see just some standard blood tests done, standard hormone tests, just kind of find out what’s going on.
Dan: I did do some labs probably two months, maybe three months, ago.
Marc: Anything interesting? What did you find?
Dan: Not a hell of a lot. My liver, kidneys, salt, all of that are good. Thyroid is good. Cholesterol strangely was good or okay. I did some magnesium, selenium, your trace elements, that were fine. If I recall, probably my magnesium was a bit low actually or at least borderline.
I remember there was some low-grade, acute inflammation. My CRP was elevated. I think my cortisol was mildly elevated as well which I guess goes with the territory.
Marc: Did you look at testosterone?
Dan: No, I didn’t actually. No. That’s a good idea.
Marc: Yeah. Might be an interesting piece of the puzzle to check out. So far, there’s a little bit of a cleaner bill of health, at least on paper.
Dan: Yeah.
Marc: Right. It’s on paper, but we know you’re feeling different. How hard is it for you to take time off at this point?
Dan: Look, as long as I’ve got probably two weeks’ notice, I can do that. That’s reasonable. There’s a lot of practitioners from the Monday to Thursday, and it’s a pretty good understanding that you can take time off. For this Friday, it’s just starting up. I want to get that word of mouth. I want to get a client roll, if you know what I mean. So it’d probably be a bit difficult in my mind at the moment to take those Fridays off, but the health comes first at the end of the day.
Marc: Yeah. It feels to me, plain and simple, like you need some momentum in your court, some momentum towards your health. So momentum to me means, okay, we get a practitioner who can help you out, and we start taking a little bit more time off. And you start doing things that rejuvenate you that are very specifically all about rejuvenating you.
You have to tell me what that is for you. I know what rejuvenates me is good acupuncture, good massage, a little bit of time off and just being by the ocean. Literally, it feels like a part of you needs to catch up and come back. And maybe it’s also a part of you needs a little bit of quiet to see, “Who am I? And what’s going on here?”
Dan: Yeah, that resonates a lot really. I think that’s probably part of the issue in the last particularly years is that I have felt that I’ve walked away from something that I held onto—walked away from a part of my identity or whatnot. It’s very difficult to explain I guess at the moment. I usually do a martial art, and for some weird reason I put that down, just felt too exhausted to do it. The ocean, definitely, and now that it’s coming summer.
I’ve found my health in general, particularly more my lung capacity and whatnot, has decreased to the degree that I can’t go in and do the kind of more full-on things I used to do. That kind of gets me too.
To me, the irony is that all I have to do is get back into it and probably my lung capacity will get better. But I don’t know; it does make a difference. I think motivation is a problem.
Marc: Yeah. So motivation is a problem in part because you’re tired, in part because you’re burnt out a little bit I think, and in part because you’re probably in a mild and I mean mild version of a midlife crisis. I think these days what I start to notice with men anyway is they don’t just have a midlife crisis; there’s usually two or three that can come along, which is a good thing. I look at it as just time to look in the mirror and say, “Who am I? What’s going on? What do I want? What’s important to me? What helps me be a man in this world and feel good about myself?”
So the tricky thing is right around the age that you’re at is when mortality starts to creep in. When you say, “I don’t have the same lung capacity anymore,” correct. You don’t. You’re not going to have the same anything capacity anymore, so it’s harder to just kind of get up and be a superman because the habits that got you to this point have to change. The habits that got you through life, through medical school, through sports, through martial arts, whatever they are, they’re changing because you’re getting a little older. And we’ve got to refine our game.
I’m going to say we as men, we as people, as we get older, we need to play a tighter, specific game because otherwise the body’s going to talk to you.
Dan: Yeah, I feel like it’s doing that already.
Marc: Yeah, so body’s talking to you. The body’s talking to you, and you’re going to have to, have to, have to move past your resistance to being the doctor and the healer who usually is taking care of everybody else, and you’ve got to let it in. You’ve got to let it in. You’ve got to invite it in, and you have to be the general manager of your own healing journey here.
Here’s my selfish desire for you. I’m going to just be very selfish right now. My selfish desire for you is that you say to yourself, “I want to go on a bit of a healing journey. I’m not quite sure what that means, but I want to focus on my healing like never before, focus on my health in a different way.” That doesn’t mean you have to be a fanatic. It just means to start to identify the little things, the little things. I’m not talking about big, humongous things. Little things day to day to day that will start to put some gas in your tank. It just feels like the tank doesn’t have a lot of gas in it, and you’re good at running on fumes.
Dan: Yeah, pretty much. And I think I have for a while. I think I’m a good improviser.
Marc: You are.
Dan: I think that’s got me through a bunch, but it’s not a good way to be.
Marc: Really, it’s about rest. It’s about time off. It’s about whatever it is that fills you up that doesn’t take a lot of effort.
Dan: Yeah.
Marc: And I would do a little bit more sleuthing. I’d be interested for you to check out your testosterone level, because oftentimes if it’s a little low that’s enough to take away enough of the edge. So we do become less motivated.
Dan: Yeah.
Marc: And it’s going to lower with stress for sure, and it’s going to lower with less exercise and movement for a man. So that could potentially make a difference for you, but it sounds to me like it’s a mindset shift. Because even what you shared about what you do at night, sometimes which is like, “Hey, I find myself eating. And maybe it’s good food, maybe it’s not good food. But it’s like all of a sudden I’m eating.” And it could be for a number of hours.
Here’s how I read that. Here’s what that tells me. What that tells me is you’ve said, “Evening time for me, that’s my time.” I get it. You’re a dad. You work during the day. Your kid’s asleep, and all of a sudden, finally, you’re not responsible for all these humans. So, good for you. So you made it to that point. And what’s happening is there’s so much discomfort in your system that the best way your body knows how to manage that is with food.
Food is right now for you the best way and it’s the easiest way for you to manage your discomfort. So when you’re eating at night, all I’m hearing is you’re entertaining your taste buds. You’re stress reducing. You’re probably also reaching for nutrition that your body’s hungry for. Because if you’re not…
Dan: I do.
Marc: If you’re not nourishing yourself well during the day, you will want to eat like that at night. It is predictable.
If you gave me a million dollars to turn somebody into a nighttime binge eater, I would just be working them during the day, starving them a little bit, make sure they skip meals and don’t get enough good food, and they’ll be bingeing in the evening time.
Dan: That’s me.
Marc: Okay. So there we go. So what you’re doing at night, just so you know, actually makes perfect sense. It’s what you should be doing because you’re actually listening to your body signals. Your body’s telling you it’s hungry and nutrition-starved and in need of stress reduction. Hungry, nutrition-starved, in need of stress reduction. So those are three things we can handle in a different way, in a better way. But that’s what you’re using them for, and it makes perfect sense because your system needs more nutrition. It’s not getting it during the day.
So what happens when the brain is finally a little bit relaxed, no kid, no patients, just me, the first thing that comes up is basic survival needs: hungry, need nutrition, need density. If you’re going for nuts and cheese, what that tells me is your body’s needing density. It needs grounding. It needs strong nutrition.
Is it possible for you to have time for a meal or two during the day?
Dan: Yeah. I try. Particularly for lunch, I try to keep to a Chinese medical hourly clock where I really want to eat lunch around 12 to one with others, you know the heart time. But I don’t know. Practically, it’s very difficult. Over the last couple of weeks particularly, I’ve just had these huge days, just lots of particularly mental health stuff. I’d say a third of the time I’m working I probably eat virtually nothing really, stuff here and there.
Again, I guess that’s one of the things, coming back to the magic wand, I’d like to kind of problem solve. I don’t know how to get around that other than maybe nibbling on stuff as I go.
Marc: Let me ask this question. Is it possible to have a scheduled…? So your schedule, like there’s a 20-minute lunch period, like 20 minutes. Is that possible?
Dan: That is. That’s a good idea. I can get the receptionist to just say, “Don’t book between this time and this time.”
Marc: Right. What I’m looking for, for you, is a scheduled time where the books are clear at a consistent time as best as possible every day, consistent time. Here’s my fill-in-the-blank. If you could do 20 minutes, 20. If you could do 30, great. If it’s only 15, great. But 15 minimum. Fifteen minutes, so there’s your time where it’s you and nourishment.
Now, where’s the food coming from? Who makes the food for you?
Dan: Peeta, my wife, she’s an excellent cook. And now and again, I’ll bring stuff in. I get a fair amount of it’s kind of like a shallow fried, chili calamari from a sushi place of all places. Otherwise, there’s a tavern pretty much next door, and I don’t have a drink or anything. I feel like it sometimes. But they have good food there. I wouldn’t necessarily say I always get the best, but I try to get salad.
It’s an odd thing though because I’m there and I’m talking to others, and I end up not really eating a lot. I think I must be still unwinding from the morning. I eat probably anything from like a beef salad to like fish and chips really, an odd burger. It’s not bakery food in the morning. Definitely not the way I want to be, but that’s where I’m at.
Marc: To me, it’s going to be a nice evolution for you to have a consistent slot every day you’re at work where there’s going to be a mealtime, and you either bring in your meal… I’m almost not caring what you’re eating because I’m hearing that you’re going to make at least some good choices. I want you to have food. I want you to actually be clear that you’re nourishing yourself, and you’re going to try to make the best choices possible. When you don’t, that’s fine. But even if you go next door to eat, you have to figure out a way where you’re eating.
So if that means bringing the food into the office and eating by yourself so you don’t get distracted, because what’s going to happen is, yeah, you are unwinding. And if you go next door and if you get distracted, that kind of circumvents the whole point here which is I want to get you feeding yourself during the day. At a regular time, get a meal in there. I don’t care if it’s fish and chips. I don’t care if it’s a big salad. I don’t care what it is. Whatever it is, whatever it is, whatever it is, get food in there.
Next, what I would love to say is pack what you feel like are healthy snacks. Have your wife make you some healthy snacks. Pack what you feel are healthy, small, tiny, mini meals. And find times during the day to take five minutes and fuel yourself. So think of it as I’m taking five minutes to fuel. And anybody could stop for five minutes and fuel. So the net result is you’re putting attention on your nourishment. And especially if you could do a little bit of forethought in bringing food in so you’re not stuck, I don’t know, without food, without what you want to have. So it’s a little bit more pre-planned. You know you’re bringing these things in for the day.
I don’t care, honestly, if you snack four or five times when you’re at work. This is about you adapting to your lifestyle. We are like creatures in the wild. So it’s winter. Great. We’re going to eat differently. It’s summer. We’re going to eat differently. The food source got cut off. We have to wander a little bit further. So we’re being wild animals, and we are adjusting to our environment. So if you can’t take two hours for a meal, then, great. Take 15 minutes for a meal. And if you’re going to be working on your feet all day and giving out energy, I want you to at least have snacks and go, “Okay, here’s a snack here. Here’s a snack there.” That’ll give you consistent nourishment, and it’ll give you nourishment when you need it because that’s when you’re doing all your activity is during the day.
Dan: Yeah.
Marc: Right. So that’s when you need to be fueled. So it makes sense to me that you’re going to feel burned out or even you’re going to get inflamed. Because if that’s your output, if you’re outputting during the day, if you’re hunting and gathering during the day and you don’t have a fuel source, you’re going to burn out.
Eating at night is not working for you. Eating the bulk of your calories in the last third of your day is not going to work for you. Do you follow me?
Dan: Yeah, I do. I do. That makes sense. It really does. Yeah.
Marc: And, Dan, also, another part of this here, and I’ve kind of said this but I want to emphasize it again, which is this is you as a man making a choice to take care of yourself in a whole different way. You have to step out of immortality.
You are functioning—and trust me. I did this up until my 40s. I functioned as if I was an immortal teenager, meaning I could do whatever I want because I had a strong body. I took good care of myself, and so I’d push myself. I’d push. I’d push. I’d push.
Think of your child. Think of this as a long-term game. This is a long-term game. You want to be around for when your kid goes to medical school or your kid graduates college or whatever it is. You want to be there for the grandkids, I’m assuming. So you’ve got to be healthy. If you want to be a good father, you’ve got to be a healthy father, number one. This is not just you taking care of you. This is you taking care of your people, meaning wife and kid.
It’s like extra level of oomph and push and commitment there because right now it’s not just you not taking care of you. It’s you kind of not really 100% being responsible in your role. If you’re the primary breadwinner and you’re the father and you’ve got a little kid, I’m sorry, you’ve got to take care of yourself. You’re smarter than that. You’re smarter than that.
So I’m just being big brother here and telling you I want you to do this for you and for them.
Dan: It resonates hard. It makes sense. It’s time. That’s the other thing.
Marc: It’s time. You need a little push here. You need a little push, but I want to make sure that there are people kind of urging you on a little bit. So who can be in your support system of people who are going to be by your side going, “Okay, Dan. Are you bringing meals today? Are you taking a little extra time off? Are you getting to the ocean? Are you getting acupuncture?” Who is that person or people?
Dan: Definitely my wife. She’s great.
Marc: Yes.
Dan: There we go. I have some great friends, and we’ve gone through a lot of health journeys and education and whatnot together. They live around about an hour away or even an hour-and-a-half away. But I should link up with them. I used to call them all the time. I used to visit them much more often. But that’s kind of fallen by the wayside. And they’ve always been great in—I’ve known them for a long time, and they don’t kind of hold their punches I guess. They tell me what I don’t want to hear sometimes which is exactly what I should hear I think. I think I would do well to get back into nurturing that relationship more.
And I think the people on this Friday new practice, there’s a psychologist who I’ve gone on—we’ve kind of started this adventure, if you will, together. And she’s very good. She’s a good listener. She has the skills I guess in many ways. But she cares. She’s a lovely person. To a degree, I feel a little bit of trepidation about that because I feel like I’m going into a venture and then kind of asking for help essentially. But I know that she’ll be fine with it. She’s a lovely person, so I think that’d be fine.
I think they’re probably my main go-to. I also have some other friends who, again, are around about an hour away. And they’re very good as well. They’re nice and supportive. They have the same kind of mentality or outlook as myself. And it’s just really fun to be with those guys. Now that you asked the question and I’m answering, I feel like I have cut myself off a little bit from these good, good friends, good support.
Marc: Life happens. We become parents, and your kid becomes your focus. So totally understandable. And then work becomes a focus, and family is a focus. And all of a sudden, getting sleep becomes a focus. And finding some energy becomes a focus. So it’s understandable is all I’m saying, and it just feels like this is a time for you to start to gather up your support system so you can put gas in your tank. It’s like I just keep getting you having situations, people around you who are supporting you in moving in this new direction and that’s a mindset shift for you. It’s a real mindset shift because it’s a little bit of humility around health and mortality. It’s a little bit of humility around, “Hey, I could use some help and support because it’s hard to do on my own here.” That’s plain and simple.
That’s why there’s just lots of us in this world and not just you or me because we need each other.
This is a good time in your life to reach out for that. Again, you’re in a kind of job that takes a lot of energy, and I have a feeling you might not even realize how much energy it takes. Because on the one hand, it’s physical energy, but on another hand it’s also emotional and psychic energy when you’re dealing with people’s health and their health issues, their fears and their concerns. And it might be—maybe, maybe not—impacting you more than you realize. That’s why I just want you to have support in your corner, plain and simple.
Dan: That can never be a bad thing.
Marc: Right?
Dan: It can never be a bad thing.
Marc: Yeah, I agree.
Dan: Yeah, well, I think that’s the next step then definitely. I’ll reach out. I’ve got a couple of free weekends coming, so I don’t see why there’s any reason not to travel and see some of these guys.
Marc: Or have them come to you or even just visit over the phone. It’s really I’m looking for anything that you can do that adds to your life that makes you feel better, that fills up your tank, that doesn’t deplete your tank.
Dan: I feel hot and hollow if that makes any sense whatsoever.
Marc: No, I get it. I totally get it. So there’s something that your system’s wanting, and I want you to get it. And part of that means you have to put it out there. So we’re talking regular food, regular meals for you, regular snacks at work. And then see how that affects your evening eating. We’re talking about you seeing your doctor friend who can maybe advise a little bit more. Any other health services that support you and feel good and help you get more energy. I don’t care what it is literally.
Especially passive stuff. Passive might be good for you. When I say passive, I mean, yeah, martial arts. If you can get back into sport, great. But at the same time, if you could lie down on a table and have somebody give you a good body work.
Dan: Geez.
Marc: Yeah.
Dan: Yeah. It’s funny. I’m an acupuncturist, and I probably haven’t had acupuncture on myself for five years or something like that, something crazy.
Marc: Bad boy. Bad boy. That’s got to change. Change that by next week, please. You should be getting regular acupuncture. It makes a difference. I get regular acupuncture. It makes a difference for me, so I know.
Dan: Preaching to the choir.
Marc: Yeah. Good.
Dan: You’re right. Excellent. There’s so many acupuncturists around here as well. Some of them are great. Maybe that’s part of the humility as well. Maybe I have to give that up a bit.
Marc: Yeah. Oftentimes, nobody’s as good as us in our minds. It’s hard for me to go to another nutrition person because that’s my life and my field. And the truth is we don’t know everything. I don’t know everything, and it’s hard to self-treat and self-medicate. Sometimes it’s very effective, and other times it just ain’t. It just ain’t.
So to me, you’ve just needed a little bit of a push. You just need a little push. You just need a push. So I’m hoping this is enough of a push to get you into action, but you’ve got to push yourself to the next place of gathering support. I would love for you to speak to your wife after this conversation and say, “Honey, here’s what we talked about on this session. Here’s what I want to enroll you in. I really need to start turning things around for me, for you, for Elijah. That’s what the deal is here.”
So let’s nip this in the bud. I would rather this conversation than you talking to me, telling me you have chronic fatigue and you can’t get out of bed and you can’t show up for work. That would suck. Here we are at the beginning stages, taking care of business before things get out of hand. That’s how I look at this time for you.
Dan: I feel that. That really resonates. Yeah. No, no. That really resonates. I think you’re right about the push in a way. I feel good already. I feel propelled if that’s the right word.
Marc: Yeah.
Dan: But, yeah, I feel like these last couple of years I thought it was discipline for a long time, and it still very well could be. But you just said that it’s so much easier to sit on my bum rather than get out and go. My martial art often ends up just being qigong or more like tai chi type stuff.
Marc: That’s perfect. That’s fun.
Dan: Yeah. But even then, it’s just like, ugh. Then I go home and at 10:30 I eat cheese. I think you’re right. I think a bit of a push is good. Recruiting friends resonates as well just because I want to enjoy their company again. I miss them.
Marc: Yeah. That’s going to give you energy. You’ve got to be a guy.
Dan: Yeah. It’s true.
Marc: Yeah. So good job, my friend. I think we did the piece here today that we could do together. I got really clear that I wanted to inspire you to really take that step and make that leap and give yourself a little push and gather momentum, gather support, gather help, gather people who will give you a little push. And that’s a good thing. That’s a good thing to do.
Dan: Thank you, my friend.
Marc: You’re so welcome.
Dan: Yeah, that’s lovely. Yeah, just thank you. I don’t know. It feels like it’s a lovely, warm, little hug. So thank you very much.
Marc: Yes, that’s exactly what it is. It’s an honor for me to be in this conversation with you and to be of help in any way because you’re a helper and that’s kind of what you do for a living. And sometimes the helpers need to learn a few things of how to self-help.
Dan: Indeed.
Marc: Great job, Dan. I really appreciate you taking the time and doing this.
Dan: Thank you, my friend. Thank you.
Marc: Okay. And thank you, everyone, for tuning in. Much appreciated. Once again, I’m Marc David on behalf of the Psychology of Eating podcast. Always more to come, my friends. You take care.
The Institute for the Psychology of Eating
© Institute For The Psychology of Eating, All Rights Reserved, 2016
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from Robert Morgan Blog http://psychologyofeating.com/psychology-of-eating-podcast-episode-179-a-doctor-rediscovers-self-care/
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