#[ but yeah it doesn't matter but i do think it's just a part of all the rumours about what she's up to ]

[alyasalias]

It's not about changing the world. Standing up for what you believe is right isn't about your own survival or about whether or not your side 'wins'. It's knowing that you stood by what you agree with.

"I do not agree with your policies. I will not be the one to push the button. Yeah, it's likely to get pushed with or without me here--but I refuse to be the one to push that button."

Hypothetically, if Cameron Klein died then and there and the button was pushed, then what? What was the point? The point was that he dies standing up for what he believes in. Those that continue on can use him as a martyr for the cause. And if Klein's consciousness exists in an afterlife somewhere, then maybe it's at peace knowing that he didn't compromise on his ideals. "Yes, I'm dead. But I died staring down something I could not condone and telling it 'over my dead body--fuck off'." If he caves, maybe he dies of old-age…then what? He dies with regrets. He dies knowing that he pushed the buttons that allowed something he doesn't agree with to go through.

"My vote doesn't matter", "The party/person I vote for never wins", "Nobody else is befriending the new kid, so I won't either"--screw what everyone else is doing and start thinking about what it is that *you* want to be doing. Do that. It matters. It's not about organizing a movement. Forget that and just make your move.

Inspiring the crowd to make better decisions isn't some monumental thing. Heck, often times it's not an organized action. Sometimes all it takes for a "crowd" to make changes is for every individual in that crowd to make a choice quietly/privately and carry it out, regardless of whether or not anyone else is doing it too. Do your part--focus on what you can do and do what you can live with even if you think that you are the only one doing it.

[frightenedcricket]

It seems Noah can't stop poking your forehead with his fingers...

You think it's annoying at first. Why the fuck does he do that all the time? Whenever you are parting ways, after a hug or a kiss or whatever, he does that thing... And then you ask why and he just laughs and shrugs.

One day, at the airport, you are saying your goodbyes to them. It's hard when they have to part and you can't go with them.

You clung into his body, your face is on his neck and his arms are around you. Noah doesn't want to admit it but he hates this.

"Hey, we will be back in two weeks" He mutters softly.

"I know... It's hard, the house is really quiet" You mumble.

"I'll miss you too, the hotel beds are always cold" He whispers.

"Lovebirds?" Nicholas asks gently. He know this is important for you and respects it, but it's getting late.

"Yeah" Noah cups your chin face without looking at you and kisses you slowly.

You know he wants to make it last, he wants to drag the moment.

When you pull back, you smile at him. "Good luck with your shows and have so much fun, you are doing great"

He nods. "Thank you, sweetheart. Just call me whenever you need, okay? No matter what"

"I will"

You peck his lips and step back, fully aware that if you don't put distance with him, they will miss the flight.

"I'll call when we land"

"Yeah, have a good flight."

He smiles and lifts a hand to you, two fingers tap your forehead and he turns around. You scrunch your face, annoying even at moments like this.

Time passes and you - after being pressured until exhaustion - start watching Naruto. It's cool, you understand why he likes it until...

You gasp and sit straight in your bed. What has that one just done? Has Itachi tapped Sasuke's forehead? Wait, wait, wait.

You jump to your computer and Google it. Why does the character Noah has tattooed on his leg tap his brother's forehead?

It turns out - and you spoil the series to yourself - that they do that. And Sasuke does it to Sakura too. And...

"Hey" You intercept his hand the next time he tries to do it and kiss his fingers. "I know why you do that"

Noah blushes instantly.

"That's how the Uchihas show affection. Itachi does it to Sasuke all the time."

Noah is burning.

"Uh..."

But you smile. It's big and beautiful and your eyes have certain bright.

"I love you" You say. "And you are the cutest boy I've ever laid my eyes on. You are so cute I can't stand you."

Noah groans when you tap his forehead and pull him in a big hug, smooching his face a thousand times until he is laughing and trying to pull apart.

"I thought you hated it" He mutters when his laugh calms.

You laugh a bit and kiss his lips.

"So did Sasuke and he ended up showing love to Sakura the same way"

"Oh you nerd..."

[utilitycaster]

Wait. So CR3 ended with Liliana, Ludanis, technically Predathos (within Imogen or something?), and all the gods all still alive (though technically in mortal form)?

I understand that sometimes it's journey before destination and the story is more important than the finale of the story but....W-what was the point??? If the BBEG Cult Leader who kicked this whole thing off to kill the gods and the gods are both still alive what was the point??

So Liliana was alive, Ludinus was alive (having used Clone or similar), and Predathos ran away because the gods assumed mortal form and there was nothing to eat on Exandria.

Really, while again I have my many critiques, the actual only part of this end state I think is a genuine mistake is Ludinus.

I think that Imogen deciding to join with the Volition and assassinate Liliana would have been a compelling character moment for Imogen; when she didn't do that I felt that Liliana dying when she chose to defy Ludinus would have been a compelling character moment for Imogen. When that also did not happen, my general feeling was "I don't really care about her fate, but it doesn't matter at this point," so her ending is one of the many "yeah, that's fine I guess" ones this campaign delivered. I don't think she's a good person, but I also think that now that she's just a regular-ass sorcerer and her cult leader tried to horribly murder her and then disappeared she has no motivation to continue committing crimes so yeah wandering around figuring out who she is now makes sense. It's still not interesting; most of my criticism in the end is "this wasn't very interesting."

The gods becoming mortal was genuinely interesting and any critique I have is how poorly it was signaled, how irrelevant it made any of the excruciatingly dull circular discussions throughout the campaign (and how hypocritical and stupid it made the characters as a result, not that that wasn't a problem from the start), and how malformed the logic of what this means mechanically for clerics was. But that is an interesting change, to me, especially since the Divine Gate is now down. Idk I think it's possible for the cycle to genuinely begin again; I mean, wizards figured out the rites of ascension before. Will one of the gods-become-mortal undo their own bindings, or will some wizard studying this phenomenon hit on the formula? The party (and fandom) discussion of Who Gets Power was rendered completely pointless but like, the actual concept is great.

Ludinus, however; honestly it makes no sense either way because not only did he do nothing to narratively earn any kind of redemptive ending [if I say "earn" know it's narratively because he is a pretend guy and the people who act like fictional characters are real and should get capital punishment are Calvinist freaks]; I don't see why he'd just hang out making tea unless he somehow thinks the gods are genuinely gone, having missed out on the happenings after his form was killed. Like, look. I do not believe that you have to kill the bad guy to have a satisfying ending, but you do need to follow through with the implications and this doesn't seem to have done so. The only possible ways this fits with his character are either that he's biding his time to do some other bullshit (possible, and if he pops up in a one-shot or miniseries to do villainy and get murdered I'll grant this), if he somehow hasn't found out and thinks the gods are dead (less likely but admittedly pretty funny, and if he lives out the remainder of his life in an isolated cottage, blissfully ignorant, thinking he got his revenge when he never did, that is a boring option but see above, this campaign usually went with the boring option for character development so what else is new), or if we somehow managed to get an ending that is more unwilling to give someone any kind of follow-through in the end than Ted Lasso, which is embarrassing, and I liked Ted Lasso for what it was.

[cillianmurphysdimples]

A female Y/N / Cillian fanfic (Part Thirty Two)

Absolutely not based on anything real at all, all totally fictional, fanciful and all total bollocks.

Warnings for sexual references and language. Adult themes. Not suitable for under 18s.

We Got Issues

Part Thirty Two: Cillian is keen to ensure Y/N takes it easy, wanting her to be as calm as possible. They agree that his sons need to hear the news from them - and soon. But Y/Ns suggestion for doing that surprises Cillian a little when both of them find it difficult to sleep. Y/N tries to ease the tension, but she voices a feeling Cillian had always known she feels. [Angst/Anxiety & Fluff/Sexually suggestive]

@cherry-cilly @dragonsneversharetheirtreasure @aesthetic0cherryblossom @meister95 @vivianleighwishesshewasme @watermeezer @strangeions @borntodiemp3 @lavender-haze-01

----------

“You need to relax. I'm annoyed about it, and we need to talk to Mal and Aran sooner than later, but what's more important to me right now is that you calm yourself down.” Cillian says, his hands on your biceps in the middle of the kitchen. He's been home an hour. Cuddles and welcomes have long since passed, and the obligatory cup of tea has been drained. It took you twenty minutes before you raised the article, and a further five minutes before you cried. “We've time enough to talk to them, and sure now I'm at home there'll be no more, but I think we should talk to them before the scan. I know you're iffy on that, but I think they're going to need the time to process it too. And Yvonne. I mean we're only after telling them we're not having a baby, and we've to go back on that now.” He moves his hands and wraps them around you, pulling you in against his chest. “I know it's scary. But we've got to do it.” 

“It isn't just that.” You sigh, sniffling your sobs down. “They printed things about us, Cillian.” 

“Yeah,” he inhales as he mutters the word. “And didn't I tell you they would?” You can hear in his tone he's not fishing for points to score, but you feel it anyway. “It's a shitty article, by a shitty group of so-called journalists. And there'll be more, about whatever the fuck they want to write. But we're having a fucking baby!” You can hear his small laugh through his ribcage. “And they're scumbags, and it'll be fucking shit, and it's exactly what I didn't fucking want - but we're having a fucking baby, Y/N. I'm happy. I'm shit scared to tell me own kids, but I'm happy.” 

“I don't want to hurt your boys, Cill. They're going to be…,” you sigh and push up against his chest. “They're going to be so mad, hurt, they're going to think we lied to them.” 

Cillian takes a deep breath, “Maybe they'll be all of those things.” He nods, “But they're going to have a brother or sister in a while, and that's not going to change because they feel whatever they do. I don't want to hurt them either, ever. But this is my family too. You and that baby.” You're aware it might sound cold to others, but to you it's what you need to hear. This is his home, his life, his family. It's not erasing his sons at all, but this is the immediate life he lives now. 

“And telling Yvonne?” You raise your eyebrows, and your heart flutters as you say her name. 

“Yeah,” he drags his mouth to the side and frowns, “That's going to be a fucking mission too.” he sighs and shakes his head. “But it's nothing to do with her. It's the boys that matter. She deserves to know, of course, and hear it from me, but that's as far as that loyalty goes.” It's an amazing string of words to hear him say, soothing so many of your anxieties if just for a while. “What she thinks doesn't matter. Like I said, it's the lads I'm worried about. But this is happening regardless. There'll be a cot, and a pram, and fucking…pumps and nappies and dodies.” He smirks. 

“Dodies?” You repeat. 

“Yeah, the wee dummies.” He grins. 

“We called them dadoos when we were small.” You chuckle. 

“Dadoo?” He laughs, “Where the fuck did youse pull that name outta?” 

“Same place you got dodie, you big freak.” you swat your hand against his chest, and sigh to try and feel calmer. “Fuck, Cill, why can't this just be simple, like every other couple, having babies? Why did I find you when I did?” 

He smiles softly, but he looks sad. “Cause that's when I needed ya.” 

You feel an emotional swell at his words, and your chin quivers, “Oh, love.” You bring your hand up to his cheek. “When do you want to do it? Tell them?” You bring your hand down again and rest it back on his chest. 

“After Christmas?” He says, brows raised. “Or do you want to do it before? I only say after so it's peaceful fucking Christmas.” He scoffs. 

“They're your boys, it's your decision when.” You tell him. “I'll support whatever you decide.” 

Pursing his lips, he nods slowly, then sighs heavily. “I'll think about it.” He whispers, and pulls you in closer again. He rests his cheek on the top of your head and holds you tightly. “Will we get dinner?” He asks, swaying you slightly from side to side. 

You wrinkle your nose, though he can't see it, “Like what?” 

“Spin down to the chipper?” He suggests. 

“You go,” you shake your head and slowly pull yourself from his arms. You would stay there - it's comfortable, and intimate, and you're so glad he's here - but the mere suggestion of food is turning your stomach. “I don't want anything.” 

“I won't get a feed without you,” he raises his eyebrows. “Will you not have anything? Will I cook?” 

“No, love, you're just in the bloody door.” You shake your head. “Go and get your chips, don't eat them near me,” you laugh, “Then we've the whole night.” 

“To sleep, I hope?” He grins. 

“God, yes,” you sigh with a laugh.

You wake up with a sudden jump, and you're not sure why. You can't recall a dream, but suddenly you're awake and you're cold. You turn onto your back and instantly realise that Cillian isn't there. Shifting to retrieve your phone, you check the time - just gone three am. You throw your legs from the bed and sit up, shivering in the chilly room. Cillian's hoodie from the day is thrown over the chair in the corner, and you grab it and instantly snuggle yourself into it. You push your feet into your Ugg slippers and slip from the room, not being too quiet. As you step down the stairs you can hear the TV, and there is the glow of a light from down there, too. You brace your hands as you walk down, and land at the bottom feeling even more cold than upstairs. “Hey, what're you doing?” You ask, catching sight of Cillian on the sofa. He's laid out across it on his front, head against a cushion in the corner and legs stretched down, arms tucked up beneath the small cushion. He's wide awake, glasses on, and watching the TV. He shifts his head slightly and looks at you, pushing his lips into a pout. He looks tired and you're not sure if it's because he hasn't slept and is flagging, or because he hasn't been up long and is still exhausted. 

“Watching Interstellar.” He says and sniffs. He draws his hand from under the cushion, clutching the controls, and pauses the film. “What are you doing?” he asks, and yawns tightly. He doesn't sit up, but he snuggles his head against the cushion a little. His cheek is pushed up and it makes his lips look fuller. 

“Standing here, looking at the teenager laid out on the couch.” You say and smile when he scoffs a small laugh. “You couldn't sleep?” 

“Ah,” he tuts. He shifts around and finally pushes himself up. He sits into the corner of the sofa and bends his left knee up, foot planted into the seat. “Just a bit wired I think, thinking about how to talk to the lads.*

“We just have to tell them, love. Like you said, and you were right, we're going to have a baby regardless.” You reassure him, though you're still so nervous about all of it. “We can't control how they'll think or feel, but at least it'll come from us and not some wank-page report they get sent or find themselves.” 

“Wank-page,” he mutters, smiling a little. He removes his glasses and folds the arms in, then tosses them down onto the sofa beside the TV controls. You watch as he fidgets, filled with an anxious energy. His tongue swipes around his mouth and his fingers flick and tap against his raised leg. 

“Go,” you say, wondering if you'll regret it. 

He frowns at you and his tongue stills. “Where?” 

“In the garden - I admire that you're trying to do what I wanted, but I can see you're struggling. Go and have a bloody cigarette.” You push your hands into the pocket of his hoodie you're wrapped in. 

“I'd the last one at the airport, waiting on the taxi.” He says, then purses his lips. You're almost happy to hear that, but you also know that after weeks back on high doses of nicotine, he's going to be a little grumpy. “C'mere,” he says. He pushes his legs down and holds his arm out to welcome you in for a hug. You smile as you walk over and curl in against his side. His arm immediately wraps around you. “I was thinking,” he says and you want to make a joke about smelling smoke, but you hold off. “Will we give the baby an Irish name?” 

“We don't even know what it is yet,” you smile, but it occurs to you that you've been so wrapped in your anxiety that the thoughts of cute things like that had been pushed far away. 

“I know but, like, I'd want an Irish name.” He says quietly. “A wee Oisín or Ciarán, or a Caoimhe or Róisín.” 

“We could have twins, Róisín and Oisín.” You laugh a little. 

He tuts, but he's smiling. “When I read the article I wanted to ring the boys there and then and just tell them. Say, look lads we're having a baby and that's what's happening. You know? And then I didn't want to hurt them, and I still don't. Like, I know what they're going to think. They're going to think we lied about it. And that's what's fucking eating me, you know? I love ‘em, they're my best friends, and-and I don't want to hurt them or push them away further. Malachy's in such a good place with us now, and after talking with Aran I know he feels better. I don't want to fuck that. But Y/N, having this baby with you feels good. I know what I said before and I know we went through the shit over, but I'm happy it's happening. I am. I promise you. But all the shit - the kids, the press, Yvonne, the reactions from every fucker around us… I'm scared of all that.” 

It scares you a little that he's echoing your fears, but it's good to know you're not alone in them. But you know you're on your own in the fear that somewhere in the midst of this pregnancy, he's going to flip his ideas again. “We should tell the boys before Christmas.” You say. “Let's have a couple of days, you and me here at home, and then we can have them over - the boys and Yvonne. Tell them all together.” 

Cillian turns his head a little and you look up. “You want to do that?” He sounds surprised, happy maybe, and you nod your head. 

“We have to.” You say quietly. “Sooner rather than later, it has to be said and it has to be before any more shit like that article is produced.” You sigh heavily, “And then after the scan, after we know everything is okay… then we tell everyone else that needs to know. Your family first.” 

You can feel the vibrations as he laughs, “Ah, fuck, Páidi's going to have an opinion or two.” 

“He's your little brother, he's supposed to!” You smile. You wrap your arm around his slight waist and snuggle closer. “I am so fucking glad you're home.” 

“Me too,” he hums, pulling you closer. 

“It's been no fun fucking myself.” You laugh, breaking the heaviness in the air. 

“Ah stop,” he throws his head back against the sofa, chuckling lightly. Then he laughs a little more, “I'd the earphones in on the plane, and that song came on, you know the one Afternoon Delight?” He pauses as he giggles again. “Just made me think of you recently.” 

“I googled it,” you say, “Pregnancy and wanting to fuck all the time. Apparently it only happens when your partner is Cillian Murphy.” You tease, and he laughs again. “It's just a good job I'm already pregnant because it's that fucking feeling I like… feeling you just spilling inside me.” You shake your head and know you need to stop, you're only egging yourself on here. “We'd be in serious trouble otherwise.” 

“Stop talking,” he sighs and shifts. “... Jesus.” 

“You're alright,” you laugh, “I'm too tired to ride you like I want to. But I swear, Cill, we're destroying the sofa in the next two days. I need that out of my system before I stand in front of the family I destroyed and tell them we are having a baby.” 

He laughs awkwardly, his whole body shaking as he does, and he tightens his arm around you more. “Y/N, you didn't destroy anything. I've told you this so many times, I know you know. I wanted that marriage over.” 

“Would you have left if we hadn't spent that year sneaking around?” you ask. You've asked before and you know what he'll say, but it never clears your fears for long enough. 

“Yes. We were falling apart, Y/N. The only thing you did was show me it would be okay to do it. You didn't ruin anything.” He reassures you, but you know that he knows that will always be how you feel. “And I'll tell you once more, but I won't remind you again - whatever happens, I love you.” 

[unoriginalcontent]

Been thinking a bit about this post; I do believe that to empathize with Trump voters, at least on an intellectual level, is important for purely pragmatic reasons. The idea there is that the right wing propaganda machine is a menace that no one knows how to deal with, and so if we can understand the concerns and anxieties of the conservative voter, we might have an opportunity to demonstrate how Trump is tangibly not addressing their problems and turn them against him. And hell, even if they did vote for him out of bigotry, maybe they'll still be willing to turn on him out of self-interest. However much it sucks, many of these people will not care if you simply point out that his policies harm other people. They've already set the human cost aside as acceptable losses, or else they outright support harming these people, which is why a different strategy is necessary for them. If we can get conservatives to turn on Trump, then even if it's not for the right and morally-correct reasons, that's still a win.

Of course that's all in reference to conservatives who were probably already predisposed towards whoever has an R next to their name on the ballot. When it comes to leftists who refuse to associate with democrats out of protest, I just don't know. I can understand that someone might want to vote out of self-interest and also believe that a Trump presidency is beneficial to them. Obviously they're likely to be wrong, but it's not hypocritical to have believed a lie and acted accordingly. Conversely, I think most leftists are people who will claim that government and voting shouldn't just be about self-interest, and that helping other people is a worthy end unto itself. And yeah, they should have known better.

If you're educated enough on the issues to have known all of Harris's shortcomings, how the hell do you not also know Trump's? If you know them both, how the hell can you conflate the two as equally bad?

We have this idea in the left that our systems are bad, and therefore we can never make progress until we destroy the systems entirely and build something new from the ashes. If you believe that, then please get your head out of the clouds because that's what Trump and Musk are trying to give us, and it turns out to be bad. We live in the system, we depend on the system, if we didn't then it wouldn't matter how many federal programs Trump is trying to abolish. Even if you specifically will be fine, you're writing everyone else off as an acceptable loss. It's not wrong to imagine and strive for a better world than this one, but unless you have viable alternatives ready and waiting, you won't get there by breaking things.

Maybe it's unfair to blame the current situation on people on the left who didn't vote for Harris. I don't even know how much blame matters at this point. And yet I think this is an important thing for all of us to keep in mind. Your moral clarity can be used against you. No matter how good and pure your ideals are, the real world has to come first. And right now that means acknowledging that a huge portion of our democracy chose Trump. And they don't care if you're hurt from his policies, or if I'm hurt, for a lot of these voters your suffering is probably just sugar on top. OP is absolutely right, they probably don't regret wishing leopards onto other people, but that doesn't mean it's not worth convincing them that we should stop the leopards before their faces are eaten. People are going to be poisoned by food which they voted to deregulate, and a part of me wants to think of that as justice. I feel angry. I feel spiteful. These people are taking human rights violations and touting them as victories, fuck them. But anger and spite won't fix anything, even from our side. And no matter how awful some of these people might be, together they're a hell of a voting block. I wish that I could force people to care about the suffering of others, but I can't. And so I hope that it's possible to at least get them to care about themselves.

And if you do think of yourself as progressive, and you still refused to vote for Harris, then I think OP is right, and you really do take a look at yourself. It is true that many of our problems are created and perpetuated by larger institutions beyond our control, but when it comes to democracy, it's not enough blame the system. You're a part of the system. If you don't want to participate, you need to have an alternative that is—crucially—viable, actionable, and realistic in the immediate short term. If you don't have that, which I guarantee you don't, then high-stakes elections are not the time for moral grandstanding.

Sorry for rambling here on your post, I'm probably a bit scattered. I've been having a lot of discussions with people about this sort of thing lately. Whatever strategy the left has for winning hearts and minds, it clearly hasn't worked if someone like that can still win the popular vote. I don't know how to fix that. But I think we all need to be a lot more comfortable ceding the moral high ground if it means making progress in the trenches.

Trump voters owe me financial compensation.

[fiona-fififi]

Buck not feeling comfortable enough with Tommy to tell him something as simple as he didn’t like basketball yet still telling Tommy he felt super comfortable around him and they should move in together is mind boggling

It truly is mind boggling.

Except, in a way, it's also not. Because that's just Buck—constantly trying to force a relationship to work that never stood a chance. He did it with Abby, he did it with Taylor, he did it with Natalia, he did it with Tommy. The only time he didn't cling like that was with Ali, and that was because she ended it before he could.

Buck tries to force himself into whatever shape he needs to be to fit what his partner needs. He's so afraid of being left that he'd rather twist himself into knots to make things work, while upholding his partner on a pedestal, as though whatever they decide he needs to be is what he needs to be.

And all of that results in this wonderful man who is so full of love hiding parts of himself that for whatever reason, he thinks don't matter.

And none of that is the fault of any of his partners. That's on Buck. But he needs to do the actual work on himself instead of expecting his relationships to fix him when he can't even bring himself to share those little things about himself that make him who he is. Especially something like the basketball thing. Because yeah, on its surface, it seems small. But it's such an integral part to how they met that the fact that Buck never thought to share that, actually, he doesn't even like basketball (OR that Buck actively hid that fact), really is very telling of just how little he actually shared of himself in that relationship.

It also feels like it says something big about just how little interaction Tommy had with the rest of the team. The idea that no one—not Eddie, not Chim, not Hen (all of whom are supposedly friendly with Tommy)—told a single silly little story about Buck spiraling and getting jealous and crashing a basketball game even though he hates basketball once they got together? Feels like it says a lot about all of those relationships and just how friendly everyone actually was. But I digress.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Look what we've become.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[olenoidedserratuspilled]

So I'm a gay man from a completely different part of the world from any of you, and so I don't have much insight into the dating culture of the US because I've never participated in it - or dating culture at all, really. Nonetheless, I'm gonna leave my two cents on this under the cut. Feel free to ignore them if you'd prefer to.

what's essential is understanding that other people including women are full humans just like you, who matter just as much as you.

I'm mostly sure OP already understands that. There's no indication that he doesn't, at least. In either case, this is by your own admission the bare minimum. We both know that the bare minimum isn't gonna cut it here.

there are so many women who are out there who want a guy who is caring and on top of his shit. like the bar is so low for some women, it's not hard to clear it.

See, showing other people that you're caring is hard, especially when you're showing it with the intention of pursuing them romantically - which, let's not kid ourselves, is the intention here. Even if you do mange to convey that - again, it's still only the bare minimum. It's good, sure, but not enough.

less dating apps, more befriending all sorts of people through hobbies and volunteer work.

"Befriend" is the key word here. Dating people you were friends with befrehand is complicated to say the least, we could have an entire separate thread about it, but to summarize my outlook I think it's half a matter of luck and half one of finesse. If you don't do everything exactly, perfectly right, it can easily end with both of you sad, angry and potentially traumatized - and it will be your fault, not in the sense you'll be blamed for it, but in that it'll be objectiely your fault.

figure out what you have to offer to the world, offer it, people will take notice.

Sure, they might. If they do though, will anyone want it? If they want it, why would they not seek it from someone else? Someone who's been doing it for longer, who's more skilled at it, or who's just got more to offer besides it? Just "having something to offer" isn't good enough, it's the bare minimum.

There's nothing you can offer that can't be easily found somewhere else. It doesn't matter who you are, there's always gonna be a billion other people exactly like you except better. And what, you want somebody else to settle for you when it'd be easier, less risky and more gratifying to just look for somoene better instead? That's selfish. I'm not being coy here, it is objectively, undeniably selfish to want that. I do need this to be clear: I'm not blaming anyone other than OP/the hypothetical man this advice is aimed at in this scenario.

it also really really sucks for straight women, my god does it suck ass. you need to understand the ways it sucks for women before you can improve your game, btw.

I mean, I think the ways it sucks are fairly obvious. A lot of people do it but at least for me it's kind of hard to ignore the murders, rapes and domestic abuse. By all means seek to understand them and work to not perpetrate them, but "Don't be a piece of shit" really doesn't paint a very clear picture of what, specifically, you're supposed to do beyond that point.

so many people want out of the box and are out of the box. go befriend and dare them.

If you pardon me being cynical (it's sort of my gimmick, if you couldn't tell), what reason do the people out of the box have to give some dumbass newcomer who just crawled out of the box the time of day? Just thinking "out of the box" isn't enough. It's the bare minimum. It's still just objectively not good enough.

you've set up an equation that means that you must always lose, and it's the type of equation that is primed to make you hate women.

I mean yes and no? From what I understood, one of the equation's components is "if a man fails to find a relationship, the failure is all his". If you interpret this as a false preconception that the world around you holds then yeah I can see how it'll lead down that path, but if you interpret it as true then at worse it'll just lead to hating oneself. Not ideal no, but at least no women are impacted as a result.

this equation is false, and based on false premises, that you and a ton of men and women think is gospel.

It depends on how you define false, really. If we go by objective, observable reality then actually both the presented equations are false and all human interaction is nothing but the absurd acts of chemicals (this is what I believe, to put all my cards on the table).

If you wanna be less Reddit-ey about it though, one could easily argue that - because "the equation" is, consciously or otherwise, upheld by the majority of the population (at least the ones involved in the straight dating scene anyway), then it's true in the sense that it is the social norm that you're expected to abide by. You can say it's morally wrong, sure, but it's still just as "true" as things like dining etiquette and formal grammar.

Feel free to ignore dining etiquette all you like, but you're gonna get a lot of mean looks from relatives and restaurant staff.

one of your falsities is that straight and bi women don't like feminine men. this is patently false. have you met a goth woman? have you met a woman who is in fandom? they are jerking it to the most pathetic and wet sissy rat men.

Fictional men and real men are radically different. For starters, fictional men are just plainly easier to grow emotionally attached to because they come with none of the... "Baggage", for the lack of a better word, and just because someone thinks baby-faced white twinks (because make no mistake, that is what 99.5% of fandom, regardless of gender, imagines when they hear the words "feminine man") look hot on TV doesn't mean they'd ever want to actually date one. Hell, even baby-faced white twinks are becoming kinda passé. Himbos are all the rage right now and I'm sorry but the average guy just isn't himbo material.

Another reason you shouldn't use people's attractin to fictional characters as a baromater is because fictional characters are just kind of... Innately superior to real people, in the sense that it's much easier to glance over all the less palatable aspects of their characters and focus exclusively on the aspects that appeal to you. You can't really do that with a real person.

This is of course not even taking cultural differences into account. I am gay myself and even I'm afraid of presenting as femininely as I'd like to beause (body image issues nonwithstanding) I live in rural Brazil and that's just not socially accepted here, be it by women or men. If I were a straight guy and I did try being A Little Gender and Gay I'd get rightfully told to go fuck myself.

So for my conclusion, I definitely don't know enough about the topic to say whether or not you're right about it, but the advice offered is only a basic foundation that only really helps if you've already got okay to good social skills - which let's be honest, just doesn't describe most men, straight or otherwise.

Even if a guy does every single thing you've advised here though, all he'll have accomplished is... Being a sort of okay guy, maybe. That's a good start for sure but even then you're still gonna fall short. You're still not gonna be interesting, or special, or exciting... Or good enough. And in my experience, if you aren't these things already, you'll probably never be.

TL;DR, here's my point: I think your advice is ultimately harmless, but commits the usual error of only providing a semi-real sense of hope. I'm willing to bet a lung that you and your casanove friends all have much, much more to offer to potential partners than anyone in this thread has or ever will have... And that's kinda the problem. The harsh reality you're avoiding is that some people aren't meant to find love - and if you haven't already found it, that probably includes you.

For what it's worth, I do at least have a boyfriend. We'll probably never meet IRL, but it's good enough for me. Maybe the real lesson OP and other guys should learn is how to acept the cards you've been dealt.

I looked at this thread

and it's another signal from the world of something like "sociosexual realism". Which is like, feminism or whatever told us that men and women were equally agentic, but unfortunately it was lying, and actually it's men's responsibility to be seductive, and if they fail at that then TFR goes down and the Amish win.

It's not just the thread, a lot of relationships and dates make me feel this way.

I'm stuck believing this unpleasant belief. What am I missing? Is the world not like that?

[idolbound]

I think people likely do suspect Meredith might be a little 💅 you know?

Obviously some followers of the Chantry take up vows of chastity, though from what I've been reading, while templars aren't required to take said vows, they do require special permission to marry as they may be required to move to other Circles or to do the Chantry's bidding elsewhere. As it were, if a spouse can provide their own support (e.g., owning land, having a role in another organization like the City Guard [I think of Aveline and Wesley, as he was apparently a former templar]), then permission is granted. This process likely deters most templars from formally marrying, or even maintaining long-term relationships.

That said, it's evident that templars in Kirkwall frequent the Blooming Rose often enough that Meredith eventually orders a raid of the place to find out which of her knights have been paying for sex and 'ruining' the reputation of the Order and its Knight-Commander. Obviously this demonstrates that templars seek and pay for sex without commitment nor worry about an actual relationship.

But, I am also certain that templars do have relationships beyond the Order - and perhaps, also, within it, though this is obviously discouraged and likely to earn reprimand for engaging in activities that could be seen as distracting from their duties (and creating a conflict of interest / tension among the ranks).

Now, with that context in mind, let's get back to Meredith.

Of course, already in Act 1 people are terrified of Meredith, and those who serve her do not want to break rules or cross her. She too wouldn't have any interest in being involved with someone serving under her, though I'm sure there are speculations about her interests. After all, we know from World of Thedas vol 2 that, when she stormed the brothel, she came across a very naked, very erect Jethann and politely and quietly excused herself. I'm sure Jethann has talked about this incident and rumours have spread; either the Knight-Commander is indeed, just a paragon of her faith and upholding a strict vow of chastity, or she isn't interested in men. While not a common assertion, someone, somewhere has probably drunkenly theorized about it. Like all the other rumours about Meredith, I think this one would certainly be among them.

Additionally, and this is in the game itself, but if Hawke is male and 'flirtatiously' compliments Meredith, she shuts him down by saying "I do not wear this armour for how it looks" and all but rolls her eyes at him. If Hawke is female, she simply says nothing (again, likely that they forgot to record a line / chose not to), but sometimes actions speak louder than words!

Now, in my own personal headcanon, I believe that as a Knight-Templar, Meredith had to deal with her templar brothers finding her attractive and desiring her in that way, which in response, she had to assert over and over, her utter disinterest in them. Most of these boys and young men thought they were rejected because Meredith was so focused on her studies, but others really found it hard to believe she would reject them. Obviously, this started the rumour mill about Meredith, both among her own cohort and beyond; after all, she was already a contentious initiate, since she already had an 'in' to doing well in the Order ahead of her peers because she was Knight-Captain Kell's unofficial adoptive daughter. Her blatant rejections towards her fellow knights' advances only added to that, with speculations ranging from the fact she already had a secret lover outside of the Gallows, to the fact she simply preferred the company of the fairer sex.

While it was true that Meredith was intensely focused on her duties and becoming the best Templar she could be, she was well aware of her romantic interest and sexual attraction toward other women early on (likely around age 16-17). I think as a ward of the Chantry that Meredith likely developed some close, possibly homoerotic friendships with other girls who grew up alongside one another, but obviously as Meredith became a templar initiate and stayed in the barracks of the Gallows, some connections may have been lost over time.

As an adult and new Knight-Templar, I believe Meredith - young, tall, and handsome - did have numerous illicit affairs with Chantry Sisters over the years, including when she became Knight-Captain, but stopping when she became Knight-Commander. As I've discussed, Meredith is hypersexual and this affects her relationships, but during this time, because of her duties, she is never able to form a long-term romantic relationship, preferring short-lived and secretive sexual relations, hidden by the cover of nightfall and the shadows in the darkest corners of the Chantry. While she has always been hypervigilant about, well, just about everything (due to her PTSD), there have always been wandering eyes and listening ears that notice such things.

In the timeline of Kirkwall, as mentioned above, I don't think such a rumour would become known by Meredith as most people are frightened of her and wouldn't dare mention it, but I do think the templars who have known her since the beginning, and those who have perhaps seen or heard a little too much, might know about where her preferences lie. In Thedas, for the most part, it would seem that having same-sex attraction is not seen as inherently bad or evil, though according to Brother Gentivi, in some places it is considered a quirk of character or sometimes scandal if done indiscreetly , or it can be accepted provided a noble still contribute to procreation and reproducing heirs for bloodlines.

In this case, given Meredith's position as Knight-Commander, and the other actions (or inaction) she takes regarding the templar-mage conflict and ruling the city, people knowing her sexuality is truly just another piece of gossip shared over ale in Lowtown, though one that may invoke further judgement by some.

[night-raven-miscellany]

"Ah, you're sure you don't mind if a raving lunatic like myself goes on? Truly, I'm charmed~" Lewis giggled as he leaned back.

"For things like floral teas... Hm. It kinda depends on the flower, for the most part, but them and herbal teas are a lot alike. Both of them are pretty unassuming, the type of people that blend into a crowd, y'know, even if they don't mean to. But there's something about them that's always familiar, always present, always reliable. With floral teas, though, there's something that makes them stick out, even if they do prefer falling in with the crowd,"

Perhaps Lewis was speaking from his own personal experience, his own favorite tea being a floral one, but even still, he couldn't help but doubt his own thoughts.

"Like... Sometimes they shine without intending to, I think. Something's gotta happen at some point and they get thrust into the spotlight. Sometimes willingly, sometimes not. But it happens. Doesn't happen as much for those herbal types, though... They tend to fall into the crowd and don't stick out a lot, no matter how much they try. Despite that, if you find em and stick with them, they'll always stick out, even if only for you."

He closed his eyes contemplatively and let out a breath.

"But, yeah. They're both super low-key and under the radar a lot of the time, despite there being so many of them, but they're usually some of the best, most relaxing people you'll ever meet and get to be around most of the time. Type of folks you've gotta really look for, but once you find them, you keep coming back for one reason or another... But again, I could just be a madman. I'm not infallible, after all."

Cherished Trinkets:

Breakdown in Progress

*Vern can hear the rain beating the roof as he shakily checks around the old windmill. Icy water drips from his hair. It's late, no one else should be around. Pausing, he coughs. Everyone should be in their dorms as the storm settles in. Shivering as he scratches at his bandages, he tries to retrace his steps.*

Was it... umm...

*Lightning whites out his vision. Thunder violently crashes nearby. Vern's knees abruptly give out. Breathe. He needs to breathe. Vern doesn't notice as his bandages unravel. Tears blur his vision. Take a breath. Try to breathe. The sprite hugs himself tightly as another rumble of thunder bursts through the air. Red columbines bloom throughout his hair.*

N-no... I-I... I d-didn't....

*Vern's skin is freezing, yet his veins are burning. His heart feels like it might explode. Each exhale is too short, and the inhales barely take any air. His throat tightens as the faint taste of smoke and iron fill his mouth. Another rumble rattles the stone structure. Vern is trembling as he covers his ears.*

I-I... S-Stravi... p-please... s-somone...

*He squeezes his eyes shut, tears falling to the floor. Foxgloves and oleander start growing from where each drop falls. Brambles protectively coil around him*

Ooc// uhh... I know I told some people about this so.. tagging? Lmk if you want to be removed or added

@nrcbookclub @nightonthemountain @aurora-retainer-silver

[dimiclaudeblaigan]

I love this scene because even after everything, the first thing Naesala does when he gets into the room is react in panic about Reyson and Leanne being unconscious. In that short moment, he just reacted on the instinct that he's always cared about them, despite how shaky things had gotten with Reyson a few years ago and how he was forced to do the things he did (including with the Laguz Alliance in RD).

If he was thinking logically and had a moment to process the situation, he might've stood back and pretended to care less than he actually did, as is usual for him. In this case he didn't hesitate to react and ran to them as soon as he walked in, because it was a knee jerk reaction.

If he sat back and thought about it, he would've known Tibarn was going to start making threats and trying to pick a fight, but his genuine desires overcame logic for just a second long enough for him fear for Reyson and Leanne. As long as the two of them are alive and well, he can continue putting on that mask and faking his way through it. If there's any chance they're in life threatening danger, he'll change course to make sure they're safe (such as refusing to fight Reyson when he was in service to the Crimean army, even at his own expense).

Since Naesala wasn't aware how badly the herons were being affected by the medallion, he wasn't aware in advance that they were in any danger. He doesn't know what happened here, so he walks in and suddenly sees them unconscious on the floor. For all he knew, it could've been life threatening - hence his instant response that didn't wait for his brain to register that he's supposed to be playing the bad guy. I think the only reason he could calm down and conclude it wasn't is because nobody else was panicking/grieving with the implication of a possible death.

(And fwiw, yes, he did have to technically sell Reyson to Oliver in PoR. If he didn't abide by something the senate wanted, Oliver could just make up some story to Lekain to get him to trigger the Blood Pact. Naesala knew he was being a snake to get the whole thing to happen, but he did technically have to go through with it the moment anyone from the senate wanted something from him)

[hotcupoteckla]

These roommates sound terrible and might be terrifying as a possible future parent. <_< doesn't define what constraints are, but demands you keep them or be publicall shamed? Bullshit.

Clorox wipes exist. They're being unreasonable, and I think it's to make you uncomfortable. So you'll leave.

The last time I had roommates like this, it was the LAST TIME I had nonfamily roommates. It was not the first set of "bad" roommates, but it was the last, for reasons below the break.

Names have been changed, but just barely and more for my protection than theirs.

Art supplies for her boyfriend, Josiah? Everywhere.

Could I keep my knitting in the living room that they never seemed to use, because they stayed in their room when I was around?

Nope. Erikkka would Throw it into my room whenever she cleaned, which seemed to be daily, though I never Saw her do it.

Did I have to discover The Naked Erikkka Painting in the living room, the communal space in January? Yes.

Normally, naked art doesn't bother me, but Naked Roommate Art should at least be good/appealing to look at, and ideally kept in roommates' room. The biggest room in the apartment. Yeah. Their room.

Did I ever get a peaceful homecoming? Only when they weren't there. Otherwise, I'd be confronted over "communal issues".(I think these were attempts to make me uncomfortable in my living space. I did my best to just get along, but it didnt seem to work no matter what I did.)

Things I was accused of over the course of 8 months 'living together', even though I had no opportunity to do said crimes/had my own supplies:

* she accused me of using her razor (I had my own)

* her toothbrush (again, why)

* her index cards (she later found them in her room, no apology)

* her biolage shampoo/ conditioner (after she accused me, I started using it; doin the time? Do the crime)

* not cleaning enough (Dude? Dude! I wasn't a-fucking-round, can't help it I'm there maybe one night a week, and your standards for cleaning are higher than your artist boyfriend, and happen at all hours I'm not there?!)

* of eating their food (!!!!!!!!!)

Did I ever get to eat my food, that I purchased? Nope, "it was going to go bad!!"

Did they ever replace my food they ate? Nope, they started labeling all food items as theirs. Despite it being the same stuff I would get myself. Nope, no sharing.

The last straw was my corn syrup, mid March, as she kept using it for baking. I wanted to make a pecan pie. For pie day.

It had a painters tape label over the cap with "Erikkka" on it. My painter's tape.

So I got my temporary revenge:

I labeled everything in the house that was mine.

The big furniture in the living room & tv..

The razors. The shampoo (just to be sure).

The towels.

The living room paintings of life sized naked Erikkka had some commentary labels off to the side, detailing that I didn't want to see naked roommates all the time & to ask me before posting up naked roommates PLEASE.

My corn syrup.

My food items.

My favorite was the dishes.

I labeled every mug (all of them), every glass (80%), every bowl & plate (all), cookware (all),

I labeled every goddamned spoon, fork & knife.

FAFO

We had a talk after this and things calmed down - they could use my stuff if they were willing to make communal the things they ate of mine & replaced. And they moved Naked Erikkka. The other nude drawings could stay. Hunky dory.

I moved out in May as I was pregnant, and needed my own place.

BUT!!!

After I moved out, I would get calls at night.

Breather calls. Heavy breathing.

I would ask who the heck this person is, with just breathing, and they'd hang up. Or I'd hang up.

It happened once every two weeks to a month or so. The weirdest part was they always seemed to happen when I was at my place. (This was the scariest part too)

I'm by myself, on the literal wrong side of the tracks in every way possible, and now I have a possible stalker.

I tried *69 to get the number as stalker person would press the code to prevent me from seeing the number (*67 or *82 or whatever), but I couldn't get the number or call them back.

It took me way too long to figure it out - like 4 months of being terrified & pregnant in the middle of the night. Thank God for CSI & The Daily Show.

But one day, I was sitting in the bathroom thinking about who would do this, and why, and who truly has it out against me & the caller called on a Saturday, around 4pm.

Heavy breather, breathing.

I asked, "Who IS this?! Erikkka?!"

AND SHE GASPED.

They hung up.

They called me back.

I asked them if they thought this was funny.

They said this was a buttdial (lie) while they were high (truth). Okay they're high/drunk on tequila(truth). But this is the first time they ever did this (lie).

I told them that this shit was serious & the next time they try it, I'd call the police. I hung up.

Then I took a trip over to the phone store & swapped my phone number immediately.

So no, I don't think that these roommates are good ones. I hope you can leave them & live in peace soon.

okay has anyone else dealt with extreme neat freak housemates? because I feel like I'm losing my mind

I'm not a dirty person, I'm pretty sure. a bit prone to clutter, but not actual dirt. I don't like for the house to be dirty. but there's just been a House Meeting called and when I went to ask the housemate who requested it what was going on- because I hate house meetings that I don't already know the purpose of; it feels like a Wait Until Your Father Gets Home situation and I don't even know what I'm potentially "in trouble" for

and basically they all feel that I'm leaving the kitchen "filthy"

"nobody wants to cook there because it's gross" was the exact quote

I feel like I'm losing my mind, because...I don't think I leave the kitchen gross? I wipe crumbs off the counter; I wipe up spills if and when they happen. the most I've ever noticed when I go in there is a couple of crumbs here and there, genuinely. or when I look over the kitchen after I finish up with a meal

(also this housemate once sent a picture to the group chat with like. five single, spread-out crumbs on the counter individually circled in red. but the thing is, everyone else seems to agree with her)

but I'm also very good at hating myself, so now I'm wondering if I AM somehow disgusting

and of course, my House Meeting tribunal has to convene at some point. the last one made me feel like everything I said was pointless because everyone else put up a united front and shot it all down, so I guess I'm headed for more of the same

[mako-island-moon-pool]

Personally of the belief that live action fans who go onto animanga posts uninvited like 'I DESPERATELY NEED YOU TO KNOW THAT I THINK THE ART STYLE IS UGLY EVEN THO THIS OPINION IS IRRELEVANT TO THE POST' should be hit with a big rock. We already moved past this ten years ago, get with it or get lost. Swallow the hunger inside of you that demands everything be palatable to you. Maybe you could stand to be a little uncomfortable for a while

[skrunksthatwunk]

found out that rascal's owner took him again while i was out, and he's probably not gonna be back since the semester's almost over. i don't even know if his owner's coming back next semester, if i'll ever see him again. if he'll ever see me again. why do they wait until im not around to do this? why do they never let me say goodbye to him?

[whysamwhy123]

So, I started writing a dumb crackfic about a bunch of my blorbos attempting to hit on my newest blorbo because it was funny in my head buuuuut turns out I'm not funny enough to bring it to life so I probably ain't gonna finish it. But I don't wanna feel like I completely wasted my time, so I'm just gonna drop the unfinished thing here because I can't seem to make myself continue it. It's a shame because I feel like it would have gotten a little better/funnier after I got the set-up out of the way, I had plans for where this would go, but alas, my brain has failed me yet again. And whatever, this most likely appeals to absolutely no one anyway, so here it is, read at your own risk because it sucks!

Jack was minding his own business before the show, wandering the halls while dicking around his phone, when he spotted Hook, just standing there.

‘’Hey man, what’s up?’’ he said, leaning against the nearest wall, still looking at his phone.

When no response came, Jack looked up. Hook was still as a statue, his eyes focused forward. Did he not hear him?

‘’Hello? Hook?’’

Jack got closer and slowly turned his head in the direction Hook was staring. ‘’What are you looki - whoa!’’

Jack almost dropped his phone when he first caught a glimpse of her. No wonder Hook was staring - she had to be the most beautiful woman he’d ever soon. She was fucking gorgeous. The kind of woman that’s so beautiful it feels like she shouldn’t be allowed to exist. Or that you shouldn’t be allowed to look at her, how dare you think yourself worthy! But she was real and she was right there all the way over on the other side of the hallway. She seemed to be checking how she looked in her phone’s camera, adjusting her long blonde hair and examining her makeup as though it wasn’t already perfect. She was perfect. She was wearing this all red ensemble that showed off just how killer her body was. And she was tall too. Long legs.

Jack’s mouth was agape. He knew it wasn’t polite to stare but how could he not?

‘’Jack, buddy,’’ Hook said, not taking his eyes off the beauty across the hall. ‘’I’ve found my next conquest.’’

Jack couldn’t take his eyes off her either. Who could blame them? ‘’Who is that?’’

Hook somehow managed to tear his eyes away from the vision they’ve been blessed to look upon and turned his head to Jack instead. ‘’My next conquest. Weren’t you listening?’’

Jack forced himself to look away - any longer and he was about to start drooling. ‘’No, who is she? What’s her name? I’ve gotta know.’’

‘’You seriously don’t know who she is?’’

The two men whirled around to find Daniel Garcia right next to them.

‘’How long have you been there?’’ Hook asked.

Daniel waved him off, a whatever gesture and then nodded his head in the direction of the unbelievably gorgeous woman. ‘’That’s Mariah May!’’

Hook and Jack blinked at him.

‘’From Stardom?’’

More blinking.

‘’Club Venus? Rose Gold?’’

‘’You’re just saying words at us, man,’’ Hook said.

Daniel gave them a judgemental look. ‘’You guys don’t watch Stardom? For real? Do you not watch any joshi wrestling at all?’’

Jack scratched the back of his neck. Hook gave a half-hearted shrug.

Daniel shook his head. ‘’What’s wrong with you guys? Y’all got no taste. Where else do you find spots to steal?’’

‘’My dad,’’ Hook said.

At the same time, Jack said, ‘’Shawn Michaels, I guess?’’

Daniel sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. ‘’I’m surrounded by uncultured swines. Look, she was one of the hottest - literally - free agents in the business. She just signed here, she’s debuting tonight.’’

‘’She’s a wrestler?’’ Hook said. ‘’Damn. Would have been easier if she was a rat.’’

‘’She could be,’’ Daniel said. ‘’You can be a wrestler and a rat at the same time.’’

Hook narrowed his eyes at Daniel. ‘’You would know.’’

Daniel smiled back, completely oblivious. ‘’Yeah, I mean, look at Adam Cole. Or Edge. Or CM Pu -’’ He stopped himself and his eyes went wide in Jack’s direction. A very uncomfortable silence fell over the three of them, one that seemed to last precisely one million years. ‘’...other examples…’’

‘’Alright, enough standing around,’’ Hook said finally. He took his hands out of his hoodie pocket and cracked his knuckles. ‘’I’m going in.’’

Two hands, one from Daniel and one from Jack, shot out and grabbed his hoodie, preventing him from taking a step.

‘’No way,’’ Daniel said.

‘’Nuh uh,’’ Jack added.

Hook glared at the two. ‘’I saw her first.’’

Daniel was aghast. ‘’No, I saw her first! You didn’t know who she was until fifteen seconds ago!’’

‘’That doesn’t count,’’ Hook argued. ‘’I saw her first in the building, so I get first dibs.’’

‘’That’s not fair!’’ Jack whined.

Daniel said, ‘’You don’t understand, man - I’ve been crazy about this girl ever since I first saw her on Stardom World. I’ve been waiting for this moment for months - that could be the love of my life right there!’’

‘’Yeah, well, I wanna fuck her,’’ Hook said, as though that was the most airtight, well-reasoned counterpoint imaginable. ‘’You can fanboy over her all you want after I’m done with her.’’

‘’Hell no! I don’t want your sloppy seconds!’’

‘’If ‘the love of your life’ is sloppy seconds, what does that say about you, huh?’’

Hook and Daniel had been gradually inching closer to each other with each response. They both looked mad, like they were one second away from throwing punches. Jack couldn’t let that happen. Not after last time…

He put a hand on each man’s shoulder and created some distance between them. ‘’Guys, guys, calm down! We don’t need to fight.’’

Clearer heads seemed to prevail, Hook and Daniel shared a nod and then their body language changed, less guarded.

‘’Besides, you’re both wrong,’’ Jack continued. ‘’I should get to approach her first.’’

Hook and Daniel, now suddenly allies, raised an eyebrow each at Jack. ‘’Why?’’ they both asked at the same time.

‘’Because…’’ Jack started. His mind drew a blank. ‘’...I…want to…’’

Now it was Jack’s turn to be blinked at. He wracked his brain - he couldn’t let this opportunity slip away, not when the girl in question was that hot.

‘’Okay, here’s why it should be me! Or, I guess, here’s why it shouldn’t be either of you!’’ He pointed at Daniel. ‘’You hit on girls all the time, while I don’t. So much. So it’s only fair that I got a shot first because, you know, it’s a special occasion.’’ Daniel looked incredulous and opened his mouth to respond but Jack cut him off by pointing at Hook and continuing. ‘’And you! Aren’t you already seeing someone?’’

‘’Uh, no? The fuck you talking about?’’ Hook asked, looking very annoyed at the mere suggestion.

‘’What about that girl you hook up with all the time? The one who’s always texting you? Carly something?’’

Hook rolled his eyes. ‘’Alright, look - technically, I never told Carly we were exclusive. I just…told her a bunch of other stuff and she kinda assumed and I didn’t correct her because I didn’t wanna seem like an asshole. But just because she lets me hit on the regular doesn’t mean I owe her anything - she should understand that. So how is it my fault if she gets mad about something like this?’’

Jack furrowed his brow at his best friend. ‘’You…you don’t seriously think that, right? That’s gross!’’

‘’Nah, that makes perfect sense,’’ Daniel said. ‘’Flawless logic. She’s the one in the wrong, not you.’’

He and Hook shared a quick fistbump. Fuckboy solidarity.

Jack sighed deeply. ‘’See? This is why I should get to shoot my shot first - I won’t treat like her dirt like you two assholes!’’

Daniel looked offended. ‘’I’ll have you know, I’ll treat her like a queen!’’

Hook nodded. ‘’Yeah, same. Unless she doesn’t want me to, you know?’’

Fistbumps all around.

‘’There’s gotta be a way we can decide, fairly, who gets to go first,’’ Jack said. ‘’Some way we can settle this like mature adults. Like men.’’

The three men took a long moment to ponder their predicament and search for an appropriate solution.

Hook glanced down at his fist. ‘’Rock, paper, scissors?’’

‘’Yes,’’ Jack said, emphatically.

Daniel rubbed his hands together. ‘’Alright, how we doing this? Elimination style or triple threat rules?’’

Jack decided to defer to Hook; it was his idea after all.

Hook considered it for a moment. ‘’The usual 3-way match rules. First to score a fall wins.’’

The three of them formed a triangle and each of them placed a fist onto their other palm, ready and waiting. After silently confirming they were all ready through a series of shared nods, Jack took it upon himself to count them down.

‘’Okay, here we go! Rock, paper, scissors, sh -’’

Before he could finish, Jack was shoved back by Daniel, his back colliding with the wall. Daniel then grabbed Hook’s hand, still balled into a fist, and promptly covered it with his own palm, preventing Hook from changing his option and signalling paper-beats-rock.

‘’I win!’’ he announced proudly.

Hook ripped his hand away. ‘’Like hell you do!’’

‘’The fuck was that?!’’ Jack demanded, rubbing his back where it was now sore. ‘’That wasn’t a win, you cheated!’’

Daniel smiled smugly. ‘’No, I didn’t. We said triple threat rules - that means it’s No DQ.’’

A lengthy discussion ensued about what exactly constitutes a disqualification in a game of Rock, Paper, Scissors, hollowed by a side tangent about why there aren't disqualifications in a triple threat match. Upon realising that they weren’t going anywhere and were just wasting time, they all agreed to play by elimination rules. Hook was the first fall, picking paper while Jack and Daniel went with scissors. And in the finals, Jack’s paper bested Daniel’s rock. How poetic.

‘’Yes!’’ Jack exclaimed triumphantly. He took a great deal of satisfaction in Hook and Daniel’s sour, dejected expressions.

Jack glanced back over to confirm that Mariah was a) still there and b) hadn’t overheard any of that, which turned out to be true on both counts. She was in the exact same spot as before, still admiring herself in her phone’s camera. Jack could relate.

Jack took a few deep breaths to psyche himself up. ‘’Okay, Jack, you got this. You got this! I know exactly what’ll work here!’’

Hook groaned. ‘’You’re not seriously gonna try that again, are you?’’

‘’I told you, it totally works!’’ Jack said, defiant. ‘’Sometimes.’’

‘’What’s he talking about?’’ Daniel asked.

Hook sighed. ‘’He has this thing he does to try and pick up girls. It’s stupid - he just stands around looking sad and supposedly, a girl will eventually come up to him and ask him what’s wrong.’’

‘’It. Works. Sometimes,’’ Jack insisted.

Daniel considered that. ‘’Huh. Yeah, I can see it. One time, there was this girl who told me I had ‘sad eyes’ and it was half the reason she fucked me. So you might be onto something.’’

With his confidence boosted, Jack took another breath to calm his nerves and headed down the hallway to his target. He willed himself to stay calm, but he grew more nervous with each footstep. The closer he got, the better he could see her. She was even more stunning up close.

When he was near enough, he put on his game face. Which was to say, he put on his best sad puppy dog eyes and leaned against the wall, dejected.

His head was bowed, but he could see Mariah out of the corner of his eye. Unfortunately, she was still distracted by her own reflection. Jack didn’t blame her, but he really needed her to look his way. 

He let out a loud sigh. Nothing. So he sighed louder. Still nothing. The third sigh was so loud and exaggerated, it was almost comical. But it was the one that got the job done. Mariah finally looked up from her phone and found him there. There was a flash of concern on her face and Jack knew his diabolical plan was working.

‘’Excuse me, are you alright? You look really sad!’’

Whoa, she has an English accent? Jack wasn’t expecting that. It took him a couple of seconds to process and actually respond.

‘’Oh, it’s nothing, really. Just one thing after another today, you know?’’

Jack knows this is the part where she asks more questions about why he’s so sad and tries to cheer him up.

Mariah just hummed. ‘’Okay,’’ she said, and then turned her attention back to her phone.

Uh oh. It’s not going according to plan! Jack’s brain scrambled for what to do next. He pushed himself away from the wall and closer to her.

‘’Uh, hey, wait! Uh, I’m Jack!’’ he said, offering his hand out.

She eyed his hand curiously and then reluctantly shook it. Goddammit, why did he try to shake her hand? That’s not romantic, that’s…business-y?

‘’Nice to meet you, I guess,’’ she said. ‘’I’m Mariah May.’’

‘’Yeah, I know who you are,’’ Jack said. He wracked his brain for what it was Daniel said about her back there. ‘’I saw you wrestle in, uh…Venus World?’’

[highlifeboat]

No thoughts only under appreciated OC Elizabeta