#“My father made every question a quiz every choice a test.

[lexkent]

Why Lionel Luthor is the True Villain of Smallville:

Threatened to expose Clark's fake adoption records unless Jonathan Kent persuaded Pete Ross’s family to sell their factory to him.

Kidnapped Clark and put him in a vat of kryptonite solution to be studied in an attempt to discover his secrets.

Kept Clark trapped in a cage made of kryptonite in a separate incident.

Impregnated his dying wife's nurse while he was in a position of power over her as her boss, denied he was responsible, and had her locked away in a psychiatric ward for 7 years after taking her baby away from her. Lionel insured the child, Lucas, remained in poverty in the foster care system and prevented him from ever being adopted.

Forced the second woman he impregnated while married to Lillian, while in a position of power over her as her boss, to give their child to an orphanage where she was tortured. He soon found another home for Tess where she grew up in poverty and extreme physical abuse.

Forced his wife to have another baby despite her objections and was then dismissive of her postpartum depression. "I told you I didn't want any more children. I see how you treat Alexander, chipping away at his spirit."

Found a child, Davis Bloome, in a cornfield and believing him to be The Traveler, ran experiments on the boy until he realized he wasn't who he wanted and proceeded to dump him off alone on a dark Metropolis street.

Created a clone from a dead little girl, Emily Dinsmore, and locked her away in a lab, refusing to let her father ever see her again. "You can't take her away from me. She's my daughter." "She's the property of Luthorcorp."

Was such a terrible father to Lex that Lillian Luthor killed her infant son to spare him from the cruel and twisted parenting Lex endured from Lionel. Was such a horrible husband to Lillan that Lex took the blame for his baby brother's death knowing Lionel would have murdered her in retaliation.

Lied and told Lex that Lucas died in infancy, like Julian, knowing how much it would hurt Lex to hear.

Paid someone to kill Lucas once he became a potential threat to his power. Clark stopped the bullets, and Lionel had the shooter killed in police custody before he could talk.

Forced Lex's mother figure, Pamela Jenkins, out of Lex's life following the death of Lex's mother because he didn't want her to make Lex soft. Convinced Lex that Pamela never loved him and was only ever interested in their money. 

Blew up Chloe and Gabe Sullivan's safehouse in an attempt to kill them and prevent her from testifying against him at his murder trial. Hired a mutant hitman to kidnap and kill Chloe after she escaped the explosion.

Had Oliver Queen's parents killed in a plane crash leaving him orphaned at the age of 5.

Ordered the murder of Andrea Rojas’s mother who was an activist who worked for an organization that fought back against gangs, dealers, and large business corporations. In addition to losing her mother, Andrea was stabbed in the heart during the attack.

Resurrected a teenager, Adam Knight, to get close to Lana Lang and spy on Clark Kent. When Adam failed to retrieve useful information, Lionel refused to give him any more of the serum he required to stay live. As a result, Adam suffered immensely before dying of organ failure.

Resurrected Vince Davis who lived for a short, painful period of time before his body deteriorated without access to Lionel's serum.

Poisoned Lex with a lethal dosage that would've killed 99.9% of people.

Told Lex he loved him in prison only to persuade him into accepting his hand so he could use a Kryptonian stone to body swap them, leaving Lex to rot and die in prison in his place while Lionel escaped with Lex's body. Instead, Clark intervened and Lionel escaped inside of Clark's body, leaving Clark trapped to die in prison. Shortly after the bodyswap occured, Lionel looked down the front inside of his(Clark's) waistband while smiling to himself. While in Clark Kent's body, Lionel initiated a hug with Martha Kent where he was turned on to the point of shooting heat vision from his eyes. Lionel-in-Clark's body flirted with Chloe, a teenager, and was centimeters away from kissing her. And when Lionel-in-Clark's body encountered Lana, a teenager, he said to her, "A man would travel around the world to pluck your succulent fruit," and forced a kiss onto her, smiling to himself after she slapped him and ran away. Lionel proceeded to attack Lex, choking him, slamming his head against a desk, and demanding 57 million dollars using Clark's super strength. He then went to the Kent Farm and threw Jonathan across the room into the kitchen cabinets. Lionel told Clark he would murder Lex if he didn't cooperate with his demands.

Pretended to be blind. "Playing the handicapped card is low, even for you." "But I was able to see more clearly than ever. It's amazing what people try and get away with right in front of your eyes when they think you can't see."

Fired 2,500 Smallville citizens to force his son back under his control. When Lex attempted to organize an employee buyout of the factory, Lionel bought the Smallville Savings and Loan and threatened to foreclose on every employee's mortgage. When Lex continued to organize and fight to save everyone's jobs, Lionel threatened, "I'll bury you and everyone in Smallville who takes your side."

Blackmailed Smallville sheriff Ethan Millar into digging up dirt on every Lexcorp shareholder(Smallville factory workers), so Lionel could blackmail each one into selling their shares to him in order to take over Lex's fledgling company. In addition, Lionel threatened to expose the sheriff if he didn't do him various favors.

Once again tried blackmailing Jonathan Kent leading to a physical altercation between the two. Lionel fled the scene as Jonathan suffered a fatal heart attack.

Installed hidden cameras and microphones throughout Lex's office, so he could sabotage him and steal his business deals.

Took over Lex's company, which Lex had invested everything he had into, leaving him with nothing and immediately kicking him out of his home.

Insisted an ill-advised, life-threatening surgery be performed on Lex after he had been shot and wasn't stable enough for further surgery, making it clear he'd prefer a dead son over a physically disabled one.

Set Lex up for the murders of Dr. Teng and her entire team at Metron Labs after Lex refused to work for him.

Had sex with Lex's lover, Victoria Hardwick, while they were still sleeping together. 

Hired Dr. Helen Bryce to seduce and spy on Lex for him. Helen later attempted to murder Lex on their honeymoon.

Gave Martha Kent a watch engraved, "To Martha, with deep affection. L.L." while she was his employee and happily married to Jonathan Kent.

Refused to come clean about his past sexual involvement with Rachel Dunleavy and the existence of their son, Lucas, despite Lex being held hostage and his survival depending on Lionel telling the truth.

Refused to come clean about Level 3 when it would have saved the lives of a group of teenagers and his own son. 

Ignored and denied any care to his employee, Earl Jenkins, who was poisoned by kryptonite on the job which led to uncontrollable, dangerous seizures.

Created a deadly fear toxin for the military that leaked into Smallville.

Drugged, gaslit, attacked, and framed his son, orchestrating a scenario where everyone would believe Lex to be crazy after Lex discovered Lionel had his parents murdered for insurance money. Lionel had Lex committed to Belle Reve Sanitarium where he had Lex further drugged and put through electroshock therapy, forcing 600 volts of electricity through Lex's brain. When the doctor insisted they pause the procedure for Lex's safety, Lionel ignored the warning and demanded they continue. This brain frying could have easily destroyed Lex's mind, as it did for others who endured it, and ultimately wiped away months of Lex's memories, allowing Lionel to be off the hook for his parent's murders. Everyone involved in Lionel's plot, all loose ends, met untimely deaths.

Threatened, manipulated, controlled, hyper criticized, denied affection, and lied to Lex constantly. Lionel mentally, emotionally, and physically abused his child throughout his entire life, raising him to become a monster and then denying any accountability for what Lex became in the end.

This list is far from complete, so feel free to add more!

[llendrinall]

I got a prompt idea. What if Severus was Harry's biological father? And he somehow finds out in Harry's first year and actually decided to do something about it and tells him and then they have this Gaint secret going for YEARS until the end of the war. Could you write them from 1st year to the end of the war where Harry is sitting at the bedside of Severus' bed and looks at his friends and goes "Because he's my Biological Father"?

There is a very obvious wat the story would go and it wouldn’t be nice. Severus finds out, he tells Harry, but somehow they are still locked in a cycle of trying to break away from Hogwarts and the Dursleys but never being able to. There is always something else more important and urgent that stops Severus from revealing the truth and claiming Harry’s guardianship. So things are pretty much the same. They learn to trust each other but they never get to really know each other, let alone like or love each other. At the end, when the time of the big battle comes, Severus sacrifices himself to give Harry a chance and Harry will mourn him briefly, because there is no time for tears during a battle; or maybe Severus will hang on to life long enough to see Harry alive and learn that Voldemort is dead before succumbing to his own wounds. He will have done his part, he will have saved Harry, but somehow Harry will be even more of an orphan by the end of the war.

This is how it should go. The easy way, the big obvious path for the story to take.

Except… How comes Severus is Harry’s father? How did that happen?

I don’t think he and Lily were having an affair or even a relationship. At most, it was the beginning of one. Seven good conversations, three dates that they didn’t call dates, two kisses and a one-night stand that served as a locking point. A night together that was a farewell for Snape, about to infiltrate the inner circle of the Dark Lord, and a promise that they would pick things up again after the war and see where they lead them.

They were so innocent, so stupid.

Snape was risking a lot acting as a spy, so he only made contact sporadically with Alice Longbottom and Albus Dumbledore. Lily was working together with James in muggle protection operations and neither of them bothered correcting people’s assumptions about them because their supposed marriage offered them a good cover story.

Lily wanted to tell Severus about the baby, but she had no way to contact him and wasn’t about to risk his cover. She thought she could wait. The war wouldn’t last, they would win, and she would tell Severus everything. In the meantime, James was happy to give Lily’s kid his surname to avoid unwanted questions. They couldn’t risk the Dark Lord suspecting he had a traitor near him and Lily was his friend.

And Severus… he heard about Lily marrying and having a baby and he was hurt and betrayed but he understood because James had always been a charmer and James was there when Severus was not. It was asking too much, to wait for someone who wasn’t there, wait for a may be.

The war ends. Harry is the Boy Who Lived. Severus spends the next decade grieving and not doing very well with all the trauma from the war and being undercover. He can’t believe how much time has passed when he sees Lily’s soon walk into Hogwarts. It feels as if it was just yesterday when Severus was a student.

Severus discovers the truth by accident and it takes three months for him to begin to understand. Harry has a slight reaction to fairy dust when he touches it during Potions class. Nothing too bad, Severus himself has a similar reaction and doesn’t usually bother using the pure silver alternative. It’s just a reddening of the skin, very common in northern wizarding families like the Childermass and the Princes. Lily didn’t have it and neither did Potter (or the Blacks or the Malfoys, but Severus has seen it in the Diggorys funnily enough). Harry has it and so does Severus and for the next three months Severus keep noticing an increasing number of odd similarities and funny coincidences and keeps dismissing them as such until a week before Christmas when Harry, absolutely apropos of nothing, looks at Draco Malfoy and says “the way you keep mentioning your father, I’m glad to be an orphan.” Severus knows then. He might take five points from Gryffindor and tell Harry he is an arrogant bully like his father, but what he means is “James Potter never got the hand of aggressive self-deprecating humor. I can’t deny it anymore, you are my son.”

Severus goes through a period of shock, acceptance, shock again, grief and, finally, worry which is the default state of parenthood.

He tells Harry the truth just before summer break. He does a pretty good job, all things considered. He is unnaturally stiff, accidentally implies that he doesn’t want Harry when he says that he, of course, will keep living with his family (Severus thought that’s what Harry would prefer! He lived with them from the age of one, he must love them! How was he to know?) and looks very pained by the whole ordeal.

Harry, being Harry, and just coming from a very unsatisfying conversation with Dumbledore, asks Severus why did Voldemort try to kill him when he was merely a baby and of course Severus tells him everything. He is new at this parenthood thing and didn’t know you are supposed to shield children from distasteful truths. He tells Harry all: the prophecy, the choice the Dark Lord made, Sirius’ betrayal. Everything. Harry cries and Severus has no idea what to do, but manages to do all right. There is a stiff hug and a handkerchief.

Harry’s second year of school is spent with Severus taking points from Gryffindor (“Even if you were the Heir of Slytherin, inbreeding is nothing to brag about, Malfoy” says Harry, costing Gryffidnor 20 points) and desperately trying to convince Harry that there is nothing wrong with him being a parselmouth or hearing voices in the walls. Harry is equally desperate to convince Severus to please take him from the Dursleys he will even apologize to Malfoy if he has to.

Harry wins and Severus goes to Dumbledore to reveal the truth and ask that Harry’s guardianship is transferred to him. Dumbledore gives and hour-long impromptu speech about how that’s a very bad idea and how Severus is most likely mistaken about Harry’s parentage and is being deceived by his affection towards Lily. However, just yesterday Severus was explaining in class that Longbottom’s current mistake was perfectly innocuous despite all the whistling and colourful sparks and Harry whispered “this is otherwise known as a Lockhart” so at this point Severus doesn’t care about blood. Harry is his.

(No, seriously, he lost control of the class for ten minutes and afterwards he didn’t even take points from Gryffindor).

Severus is resolved to go over Dumbledore and get Harry from the Dursleys. He realizes it will be difficult with his Death Eater past, but he will do it. The wizarding world is ridiculously biased towards blood relations, he has a good chance.

So of course that’s when freaking Sirius Black breaks out of Azkaban.  

They don’t have a close relationship, Harry and he. Severus doesn’t kid himself, Harry only asked him to take him in because life with Petunia is miserable. Harry doesn’t even like Severus. However, it seems that Severus has managed to earn Harry’s respect and even his trust. Not only Harry, but his little group of friends seem to be thawing towards Severus.

To be fair, it is not by any virtue or merit on Severus’ part, but rather the failings of everyone else. You see, no one, (Severus can’t stress this enough) no one has told Harry the truth about Sirius Black. Harry and his friends have even made a little game of it and by the time Harry returns to Hogwarts Severus is informed that only Arthur and Percival Weasley passed the test. Out of over thirty adults they have asked, only two told Harry something close to the truth. Severus is surprised that Percival talked, but apparently the poor boy has been very stressed with the incoming NEWTS and takes every opportunity to quiz his knowledge so it could be said he was tricked.

Still, Harry appreciates that Severus doesn’t lie or patronize him. The bar is abysmally low, but Severus will take it. He is already doing much better that his own father.

He spends the year tutoring Harry in everything that may be useful for his continuing survival and antagonizing Lupin. Unfortunately, Severus doesn’t have much time to prepare his case for Harry’s guardianship and he briefly considers offering the task to Granger or Weasley (Percival, not Ronald) for extra credit, but he thinks better of it.

The end of the year is…weird. There is relief, shock, fear and regret, quite a lot of regret. Severus should have ignored the threat and worked on asserting Harry’s parentage. There will always be another threat coming, he should just take Harry now.

He is proved right just a few months later when Harry is entered in the Triwizard tournament. To make things worse, the mark is itching in his forearm and Karkaroff is extremely tetchy.

And here it is, the moment where Severus Snape refuses to repeat the cycle, the moment when he avoids making the same mistake.

Severus goes to the cave in Hogsmeade and tells Sirius the truth. Never again he will assume that people know or that there will be time to talk. If only he had tried to contact Lily, if he had merely written to congratulate her about her marriage even if he said nothing else, Severus is sure she would have found the way to tell him. So, for her sake if nothing else, this time he is not keeping the truth to himself. He realizes that by telling Sirius he might be robbing Harry of an ally, but if Sirius decides he does not want anything to do with Harry because he is not James’ son, so be it. Severus would rather know now than a few months down the line when they inevitably have an emergency.

Sirius is surprised, retroactively hurt that James didn’t tell him anything and very offended at the idea that he would stop being Harry’s godfather simply because his biological dad is a git. If anything, it’s all the more reason to give the kid some positive influence. Plus, he is still Lily’s son and Lily was Sirius’ friend too.  

Severus and Sirius argue quite a bit over who exactly can be considered a good influence. They exchange insults, point each other’s flaws, and, in general, act worryingly immaturely. However, something good emerges from this fight, because during the many reproaches and accusations it becomes evident that Sirius believes that Severus refused to testify on Sirius’ behalf before the Minister, something that is untrue.

“I… what?” Severus says. “What did you say?”

“You heard me!”

“No, but, Black. If I didn’t speak it was because Dumbledore insisted that the Ministry wouldn’t listen to an ex-Death Eater. I was going to tell Fudge everything!”

“…Harry said you were mad you lost your Order of Merlin…”

“Wha-? I don’t care about the stupid order. You are innocent! Do you think me so petty that I would send an innocent man back to Azkaban?”

“I…”

Snape is so glad he decided to have this talk. They had been fighting for two hours, he is thirsty and has a tension headache, but the relief he feels in immense. The misunderstanding could have proved fatal. They spend the rest of the day airing everything: revealing Lupin’s lycanthropy to kickstart the curse on the DADA position rather than waiting for Lupin to have an accident, Sirius apologizing about the admittedly mental prank, promising that they will both disappoint Harry but they won’t spare Pettigrew’s life. It takes a lot of time, but it’s good. There is so much to discuss they don’t even talk about how exactly the misunderstanding about Severus testifying for Sirius came to be. Not until their third meeting at least.  

Harry enters the maze for the third trial at the end of the year and between one dark corner and a blind spot, he vanishes. Although maybe he wasn’t Harry at all. Maybe it was a Polyjuiced Sirius who then proceeded to transform into a dog and pretend he was one of the monsters in the maze. Maybe Harry had quietly left under Polyjuice a few hours earlier and is currently boarding the train in Hogsmeade with Lupin.

Of course, as soon as they realize that one of the Champions is missing they stop everything to look for him. Karkaroff complains, Diggory threatens to withdraw that instant, Delacour casts a surreptitious hex or two because she is still very angry about the second task and using her little sister, and in the ensuing chaos Professor Moody’s Polyjuice wears off and he is revealed as Barty Crouch Jr, formed Death Eater presumed deceased, so Severus feels pretty well with his plan to just take Harry away and worry about legal guardianship later.

Also, since the press is there he takes the opportunity to openly declare that Sirius Black is an innocent man, perfectly innocent, Pettigrew is the one to look for.

Merely eight weeks later the mark on Severus’ arm burns. Voldemort is back and looking pretty well considering he was dead. Severus is asked about his arduous defense of Sirius’ innocence in the newspapers, and he quite reasonably explains that he couldn’t risk any loyalist mistakenly helping Sirius and there was no other way to let people know Pettigrew needed help instead. It is flawless logic and Voldemort approves, so Pettigrew doesn’t dare say anything about the absolutely murderous glint he had seen in Severus’ eye back when everything was revealed. Pettigrew understand that if says anything about it, Severus will make sure to kill him gruesomely before Voldemort can do anything else about Severus being a spy.

The Ministry of course refuses to believe Voldemort is back. He also refuses to believe in Sirius’ innocence and is convinced that it is some weird ploy on Dumbledore’s part. The press attacks Severus non-stop, it’s sickening. Umbridge comes to Hogwarts and is absolutely horrid, as expected, and the moment she has enough power she fires Snape. Not even Malfoy can do anything to avoid it.

Snape disappears. It hadn’t occurred to anyone that maybe he was waiting for the opportunity to leave Hogwarts without arising immediate suspicion. He is nowhere to be found and now that they think about it neither is professor Lupin.

And they are never seen again.

People know they must be around because it’s very obvious they intervene in the war. Sirius kills Voldemort in a very public way. But, other than that, they are not officially seen which drives many people crazy.

Harry keeps in touch with his friends, he is Ron’s best man in his wedding, he is there to clap and support Neville when he gets a doctorate in Herbology, helps build Luna’s cottage, and yet he is never seen by a Ministry official or a proper adult ever again. (Never mind that Harry and his friends are all adults now, they are not adults like real Moody or professor McGonagall are). It is most infuriating, which is the reason why Harry keeps doing it well into his thirties, when he is elected to the House of Wands and becomes an Honorable MP, so he has to let himself be seen then.

They (the wizarding society) realise their mistake about a week later. The Honourable Member Harry James Potter (never bothered to change his surname) is very much Severus Snape’ son and has spent a lot of time around Sirius Black. He is an absolute nightmare for the chamber: witty and insulting and all around absolutely brilliant and exasperating. The press loves him. A year in, there is already a small book published with “The Best MP Potter’s quotes”.

[universe-n-3276]

Carrying the Moon

Epilogue

He shouldn’t have been there. He knew that if someone found him on the school’s rooftop, he would immediately be lectured by the headmaster, who obviously would call his parents, and he could already imagine the concerned look on his father’s face. Whenever he did something stupid, that man always had the same look painted on his face, and he couldn’t stand it anymore. But the boy couldn’t help it. He needed it. When he felt things overwhelming him (it often happened during the lunch break), he needed to feel the comfort that arose from watching his schoolmates from above, small as ants, move around frenetically.

On the roof of the school, alone, the noises and people around him were far away. The air was fresh, and the perspective changed completely. Three months earlier, during his last exams of the semester, he had begun to feel different. Everything he felt was amplified. He was full of energy and able to do anything. He had been awake, night after night, writing, planning, drawing. During the day, as he answered all the quiz, he felt confident, he knew everything, then the verdicts came. He had failed all his tests and in his mind, his teachers were trying to set him up, they wanted him to fail. He had fought furiously with his parents, and it was weird because he was used to talking with them, and not screaming his lungs out, but he was only a sixteen-year-old, and teenagers usually argue a lot with their parents, right?

Then during the Christmas break, he had started to spend whole days locked in his room, until he no longer wanted to go out or get out of bed, and after that moment there were only doctors, pills, and worried looks. He hated feeling that way, he hated not being able to control it. He felt as if an alien had moved into his brain and had taken control over it. He just wanted to feel like before, he wanted to go back to being the happy and carefree person he had always been. The boy heard the door open behind him and turned quickly, hoping he hadn’t been caught, but he immediately recognized a familiar face and raised a hand in greeting, allowing himself to smile a bit. He wanted to be left alone, but he liked Eva’s company. The girl had auburn, straight hair, very fair skin, covered with freckles, and blue eyes, identical to her father’s.

“Hero David Driesen-IJzermans, you’re so weird.” “I did nothing.” “School is supposed to help you develop your social skills, you know? And you spend your time here alone.” “I'm not feeling well.” Eva's lively gaze softened. He walked over to Hero and placed a hand on his back, moving it in a circular motion, to try to give him relief. “You should call your fathers.” “I called Charlotte. My dad is busy at work and my papa has always a stupid worried look on his face when something happens, and I don't wanna see it.” The girl nodded, and was silent for a few moments, staring down at the schoolyard full of their classmates enjoying their free-time. “Have you told Camille you're hiding here?” “No. I broke up with them.” “Why?” “We weren't right for each other.” Hero bit his lip. Breaking up with Camille had been difficult. He had thought about it for a long time, not knowing if it was the right decision if it was really what he wanted or that sense of impatience was just a side symptom of the disease. “You know, since our parents have these great stories about being with their soulmates since they were teenagers, I always feel under pressure. What if I won’t find that ineffable love?” “They always say when you know, you know, so don't worry too much about it.” The boy gave Eva a small smile as he retrieved his ringing phone from the pocket. He looked at the screen, picking up his backpack from the ground and put it on his shoulder, happy to finally get out of that school that made him feel caged. “I gotta go now, Charlotte is here. Bye Ev.” “Bye, weirdo.”

-

Hero didn’t remember the exact moment when he was told that Charlotte was his biological mother. It was as if he had always known, and it had never been strange. He had seen movies where the main characters discovered as teenagers that they had been adopted, and were traumatized by the idea that those who they had always believed their parents were strangers. He just couldn't put himself in those people's shoes, because he was convinced that a family went far beyond the DNA and that all the love and the affection he had received from his parents since childhood, were what would tie them together for the rest of their life. Charlotte had given him life, but only with his fathers, he felt safe. However, Hero knew, he was lucky to know who his mother was. To be able to talk to and see her every day. He knew his story, and he didn't have a thousand question marks floating in his head when he thought about who he was, or where he came from. He knew why Charlotte had decided to let him be adopted, and he knew, it wasn’t his fault. Since he had been diagnosed with bipolar disorder three months earlier, he understood her choice even better. Sometimes he had talked to Eva about the fact that they had both been adopted, but the affinities of their stories ended there. She didn't know anything about her biological parents, she didn't know her story and this made her suffer, even though she was grateful for the love, she had received from Jens and Lucas since she was a child. Eva had lived in a foster home until she was adopted by the two boys at the age of five, and because of this, she still had memories of when she felt abandoned and alone in the world. Hero had never felt the same way. He had always had two parents, an aunt, two uncles, four grandparents, and eventually, a sister. There was no space to feel alone. When he came out of school, he saw Charlotte waiting for him and smiled at her, walking in her direction. When they were in front of each other, she promptly squeezed him in a hug, and Hero immediately felt some of the tension vanish. He was sixteen and most of his friends shunned their family, trying to spend a lot of time away from home among their peers. But since he had his first episode, he felt comfortable only with his family. He knew, he could finally let his guard down because they would take care of everything. “Thanks for picking me up, Aunt Charlotte.” “Anytime, baby. Let's grab some hot chocolate, okay?” Hero nodded slowly, following Charlotte who had started walking. He had heard so many stories about her. When she was young, his aunt was the life of the party, ready to joke around. She hadn't changed much over the years. Charlotte was a funny person and always had a smile on her face. She lived with her girlfriend Ellie in a house by the river. They had no children, but Hero knew they were both very happy with their busy lives. When they sat facing each other in the cafeteria, waiting for their order, Charlotte looked Hero in the eye, and the boy suddenly felt exposed, as if there was no way could he have lied without the other noticing. “How are you feeling?” “I felt a bit overwhelmed at school, but now I'm fine.” “It was the same for me, but I pushed myself so hard all the time, just to fit in, that after some time it almost felt normal.” “Should I do that too?” Maybe Charlotte had the answer to all of his problems. Perhaps following her footsteps would lead him to regain his lost normality. So when Hero asked that question, his tone came out far more hopeful than he wanted. The woman looked at him sweetly and reached out to stroke his cheek. “No, baby. I know how it feels like you have no control over your mind or your body, but it’s not like that. It’s like learning to drive a new car: everything is new at first and you are scared but eventually, you’ll get used to it.” “So I'll be able to control this thing, eventually?” “Not really, but you will know how to deal with it, and also, all the people around you will know what to do to help you.” Hero sighed, looking down. He felt trapped in a tunnel with no exit. “It's frustrating.” “Yeah. But if you go to therapy and take your meds, it will be fine. You’ll know when something is coming. Everyone has symptoms. But don't worry, okay? We’re all here for you. We're gonna get through this. I promised.” “Thanks, Aunt Charlotte.” -

After spending a few hours with Charlotte to clear his mind, Hero had made a decision. He knew, he had to talk about it with his parents first, and this made him a little anxious, but he was sure that talking about it with his dad would help him more in deciding what to do. Hero was very attached to his dad, and unlike many teenagers, he felt free to talk to him about everything, without ever being judged. While he was waiting for the elevator, he closed his eyes and suddenly felt all the tiredness envelop his limbs. It was a weird sensation for the middle of the day. He had always been a boy who liked people, and yet the disease made social interactions physically exhausting. After half a day with his schoolmates and teachers, he just needed to rest. Going home and doing homework in those conditions was complicated. He couldn’t focus. The only thing he wanted to do was simply lie down to recover some of the energy lost during the day. Even before the elevator doors opened, Hero could hear the voices of his uncles. They were bickering as usual, and he couldn’t help but smile. Jens and Lucas have always been two of his favorite people in the world. Thanks to them he had learned to skate as a child, even though he often found himself in the midst of their deathly competitions to decide which one of them was more skilled on the board. “This damn stroller. Why you had to pick this monstrosity, uh?” “It was the safest one, Jens.” “It's bigger than our car and we barely fit in the elevator.” When the doors opened, they revealed the two men comically squeezed in a corner, to make

room for what was truly the largest stroller Hero had ever seen. Inside that gigantic thing, there was Lilith, a little girl of just six months, with thick raven hair and big chestnut eyes. “Hey, kid!” Jens was the first to notice Hero, and as soon as he managed to get out of the elevator, he gave him a high-five. Lucas took the stroller out and joined them. “Are you okay, baby? You look tired.” Lucas could spot the tiniest detail of one’s face, and Hero knew this very well. There were rare times in which he had managed to get away from his uncle’s gaze, and in fact, Eva had also stopped trying to hide anything from him. “And you should still be at school, right?” Hero still hated to talk about his illness, and it was wrong, especially because they were his uncles who had known him forever and knew exactly what he was going through. Lucas and Jens had been close to Charlotte when she was struggling. It should have been easier to say I felt a little overwhelmed today, so Charlotte picked me up and I just wanna rest even though it's only two in the afternoon. But he still couldn't, so he just shrugged, hoping the two would understand. Lucas stroked his cheek, giving him a look full of affection. “It's gonna be fine, Hero. And we are all here for you, okay?” “Yes, if you need anything, just call us, or come upstairs. Our door is always open for you.” Hero smiled, extremely grateful for the safety-net around him. He was surrounded by people who cared so much about him. They would never leave him alone, even in their darkest moments. He thanked his uncles and waved them goodbye, doing the same with little Lilith who had watched the whole scene from her huge stroller. - When he walked into his house, he immediately heard music coming from his papa's studio. Since Bowie, his sister, was born, Sander had decided to focus on her and work more from home. His sister was a little brat, and the fact that Sander spoiled her didn't make things better. The two spent hours playing with paint and soiling clean clothes and furniture with it. Hero had never been particularly talented with pencils and brushes, and perhaps for that reason, he believed in his heart that his papa preferred to spend more time with Bowie. He couldn't help but be a little jealous of their relationship, and of how Sander was able to show affection to the little girl. The boy knew, he was also deeply loved by his papa, but lately, there was something off between them. He knocked on the open door of his father's studio to get his attention, and the man looked up, giving his son a warm smile. “Hey, you're back early!” “Yeah, I didn't feel good and I asked Charlotte to pick me up.” “You could have asked me.” Hero shrugged, avoiding Sander's gaze. He hated to see the disappointment on his face, but his papa couldn't understand what he was going through. Charlotte, on the other hand, could. “How are you feeling now?” “Tired. I think I'm gonna get some rest.” “If you need anything, I'm right here.” Hero nodded, giving his father a small smile. As he made his way to his room, his sister darted past him laughing, without even saying hello and he frowned, thinking she was the strangest girl in the world. When he entered his room, he quickly walked over to the desk. He took off his backpack, placing it on the floor, and got rid of the sweatshirt he was wearing, already anticipating the moment when his body would finally touch the bed. He turned, but his expression changed immediately when he saw a huge stain of red paint standing out on his favorite blanket. Hero reconnected the dots. It wasn’t a hard task, after all. “BOWIE. I SWEAR TO GOD. I HATE YOU SO MUCH.” He closed his eyes and tried to regain control of himself, trying to breathe normally through his nose, while thinking he had to move quickly before the paint would run through the blanket, ruining the sheets and mattress. “What happened?” Sander appeared from the door with a frown on his face, followed by Bowie that was hiding behind his legs. Hero looked at them both, furiously, while a thousand thoughts were crowding his mind. He wanted to keep screaming all his anger, but he didn't. Instead, he started to roll up the blanket, being careful not to spill the paint around. “Your favorite child made a mess.” “Hero, what are you talking about? I don't have a favorite child. You two and your dad are my favorite people in the world.” The boy didn’t argue. He kept undoing his bed to the mattress, in silence. When he noticed that his father was doing nothing to leave him alone in his bedroom, he decided to speak up. “Where's dad? I wanna talk to him.” “He's still at work.” Hero was tired and angry, and in moments like that, it was like his emotions were exploding inside of him uncontrollably. He hated feeling that way as if everything he had inside was about to get out of his hand at any moment. Despite fighting against it for most of the time, sometimes he couldn’t help but let go. He looked at his papa's face and clenched his jaw when the other's eyes held his gaze with the same intensity as if they were a mirror of his own. The boy wanted to say everything he had been holding inside for months, all the thoughts that were hurting him. The things that kept him awake at night. Why don't you love me as much as you love Bowie? Why don't you ever want to spend time with me? It's because she is really your daughter and I’m just... He swallowed the lump in his throat and looked away, suddenly feeling too fragile to be able to withstand such a fight. Once again he had been betrayed by himself. “I don't get why he's always at work, while you are here.” “You're being rude, and you know I work here so I can be with you and your sister.” “Yeah, with my sister, of course. Whatever, I want dad now.” “Hero, you can also talk to me.” “I need to throw these things in the washer.” “Okay. Let me help you.” - Later that evening, he was hiding in his room, tucked under clean blankets, with the light on, because he wanted to avoid, in every way, turning his bad mood into something worse. Hero heard a knock on his door. When he turned to look at his visitor, he was delighted to see his dad's face. He sighed in relief and sat up against the headboard. The boy was happy to finally see him. He had needed his presence since he left for school that morning. “Hey, baby.” “Hi, dad.” “How's your day?” Robbe sat down on the bed, hugging him tightly, making that annoying lump in his throat reappear, and his eyes becoming instantly watery. They released their embrace and Hero shook his head, trying not to look his dad. Robbe sighed, placing his hands on the boy's shoulders. “Hero, what’s going on? Papa told me what happened.” “Snitch.” “He's worried about you. He loves you as much as I do, you know that.” “But he loves Bowie more because she’s your biological daughter.” “Baby, what are you talking about? You can't be serious!” Hero shrugged. Saying that sentence out loud was all he had been trying to do for weeks, but now it was like finding himself suddenly naked, in front of a crowd that was staring at him. He couldn't add anything else or speak up, because, yes, he was serious, but when he felt his dad's arms wrap him in a hug, he felt a little less stupid. “You can't even imagine what your papa did for you when we were young. He gave up everything for you. His relationship with me and with his sister. He was ready to drop out of uni, just to find a job and take care of you.” “I didn’t want to be rude to him. I was just pissed because Bowie made a mess in my room while he was supposed to watch her.” “He can get lost in his work sometimes.” “And I also don't know how to talk to him. With you, it's easier.” “We can call him and you can try to talk with both of us.” “Fine.” When Sander walked through the door, following Robbe and holding his hand, he had his usual worried expression painted on his face. He sat on Hero's bed, and Robbe did the same, on the other side of it. Hero, somehow, felt calmer, safer, there sat between his fathers. “Sorry about earlier, papa.” “It's okay, don't worry.” Like a suspicious cat that suddenly jumps in your lap, Hero approached his papa, leaning his back against the man’s chest, and Sander began to card his fingers through his son's hair, looping his waist with the other arm. Hero closed his eyes, relaxing. He realized that the distance he had felt between him and his papa was probably yet another trick of his mind and that for all that time, it would be enough for him to reach out, and bring down the walls that he had created. “I think I should drop out of school. I’m overwhelmed all the time and it’s really hard for me to focus. When I get home I’m too tired to do my homework. I feel like I'm failing at everything and it gives me anxiety.” There was a long moment of silence in which Robbe and Sander looked into each other's eyes, and Hero was sure that somehow, after years of marriage, the two had discovered a way to talk telepathically, because he had seen them do that so many times. “Your mental health is our priority.” “Definitely, and we understand that you need your time to adjust to your illness, to understand how to live your life with it.” “Thanks.” “But, maybe we can consider other options, you know?” “Like what?” "Homeschooling, for example." It wasn't a bad idea. That way he would adjust his schedule according to how he felt. “It's a good idea, but I don't know if I can start something new right now.” “It's okay, baby. We can take it day by day.” “And if it gets too much, we can also take it minute by minute.” Hero turned his face to look his papa in the eye, and smile gratefully at him. He liked the idea of not having to think about the future and being able to focus only on the present. It made him feel grounded and for the first time in weeks, his mind wasn't drifting. Robbe held Hero in his arm, kissing his forehead, while Sander hugged them both as they did when he was still a little kid. “My baby boy.” “Our baby boy, Robbe.” “Yes, our baby boy.” Maybe Hero would always be a fish out of water among his peers, because of his illness or because it was just what he had always been. Having been loved so deeply since he was born, had led him to be free of being himself because his parents had always pushed him to express his personality and not to apologize for who he was. Reality hit him very hard when he found out that people usually prefer predictability and labels. The world doesn't like unpredictable things. Hero loved to live his little utopia, in the arms of his parents, in which he was free to be himself, with his illness, his moment of euphoria, and his depression. He was free to express his ideas, to love immeasurably, to cry, to feel sad or happy. In his little utopia, he felt safe and knew that if he fell, someone would always be ready to catch him. At that moment Hero knew that, although he’d always carry the moon inside of him, thanks to the love surrounding him, eventually, the sun would shine again.

[previous]

[apathycares]

Enraged

Warnings: high school AU, cursing, angry Sasuke

Pairings: implied Sasuke x Reader

Enraged, he slams his arm against the board, his long fingers itching to rip off the paper and burn it along with his crushed ambition. No one would see him do it as the halls were yet to be filled for another hour and the staff busy conversing in a closed-off area, but he was certain there were cameras everywhere and lifts his arm away.

The words glare at him and he glares back, willing it to burn as he wishes but he knew from past efforts that nothing could be done after this.

Konohagakure High School’s Top Twenty Honors Students 1.  [Last name], [Name] 2. Uchiha, Sasuke 

He never bothered to read the rest, as he was too preoccupied wondering how could this one person hold his deserved rank so unabashedly? He had spent too much time with his nose in his books and sleepless nights cramming, and he was yet again unable to outdo whoever this girl was. 

He hears footsteps behind him not long after he sees a girl he had grown accustomed to. She would always come a half an hour after him and before the students and glance at the very sheet he spends seamlessly staring at. They’ve never spoken a word to each other and he sometimes wonders why she never seems discouraged but he doesn’t ask because that isn’t his business.

As per usual, she takes her glance and isn’t bothered by his presence, before sighing slowly.

“Are you unimpressed?”

He is just as surprised as she is by his random initiative to speak, but she recovers quickly and mats her hair as if in thought.

“Not really,” she says slowly, looking up at him with slightly squinting [colour] eyes.

He turns back to the large pin-up board and narrows his eyes at the first slot, before mumbling under his breath.

“Did you say something?” She asks while adjusting the large books onto her right arm, a sign that he’s come to know indicates she’s about to leave. 

“I need more books.” He repeats a little louder, a frown marring his pale face when she laughs and waves him off.

“Studying isn’t everything Sasuke Uchiha.”

His frown becomes deeper and he stares as she turns away, and he doesn’t understand what comes over him when he asks, “What’s your name?”

Her eyes twinkle and she cringes a bit, a reaction which seems uncommon to him before she takes a deep breath and animatedly gestures flipping her hair off her shoulder.

“[Name].”

The air is basically knocked out of him as his lungs constrict and all the choice words he’d been saving up if he ever met her could not escape his lips. He had unintentionally been entertaining the enemy for years now and he never knew it?

She struts away sickeningly confident after shooting him a half-smile, and his hand unknowingly ball into fists. How hadn’t he known?

He finds her in the girl’s bathroom on the second floor, leaning against the basins while formerly reading what seemed like some notes. Her eyes are wide and she looks around dumbly and he wonders how on Earth she had kept the first rank when clearly she had no –

“You’re not supposed to be in here.” She states cutting off his internal monologue, though she is calm and her eyes momentarily stay on him.

“How are you first?” He asks impatiently, his teeth clenched and his fists balled.

  “Well great magicians don’t tell their secrets, right?” She smiles as she jabs a finger to him, but he is not amused. [Name] drops her hand and purses her lips as she gazes at him in wonder. “You’re a hard worker, aren’t you?”

“Aren’t you?” He asked incredulously, before scoffing. “Are you really….” He choked slightly, before furrowing his eyebrows.

“Oh, dude,” she sighed, “you can’t even say my name? Do you hate me that much?”

He didn’t. He actually thought she was the most laid-back girl, whenever they stared at the board together every morning for the past five years in silence, and assumed she could be the only friend he’d accept.

Before he realized she and his ultimate nemesis were the same person. How could he have not realized it? More so –

“Did you know?” he asked quietly, looking at her with disappointment. She nodded slowly and confirmed it. “I can’t believe this…”

They are quiet for a moment, for very different reasons, before [Name] smiles and attracts his attention back to her.

“I have a proposition,” she says while glancing at her watch, fifteen minutes before the first few students appeared. Sasuke folded his arms, and she took it as a sign that he was listening. “I can help you improve your grade without more cramming or new books.”

He scoffed indignantly. “Why do you assume I need your help?”

“I have this thing where I assume, and my assumptions are right, so I always go with the flow, you know? Hey, that rhymed! I’m a total genius!” She sighed and stared off for a moment. “What was I going to say?”

Sasuke stared at her incredulously. Did she have some sort of mental illness? Was it contagious?

“I must admit, the many years you kept growling at the board kind of made me remorseful, especially since I catch you studying more than you breathe, so I promised myself the moment you break the trend and talk to me, I would tell you where you went wrong and help you, okay?”

She spoke in such a sincere way; he almost apologized for snapping at her before.

Almost.

“Starting today, you will spend every free moment with me, and I promise you will see some improvement very soon.”

He raised an eyebrow. “And how do I know you’re not lying?”

[Name] checked her watch, seeing only ten minutes left, before facing him with a bright smile, one which he’d correlated to ambition-less people. 

“We have a pop quiz at the end of this week on Human Transport Systems, and I know for one your average score in Biology is 94 percent,” he narrowed his eyes suspiciously and she sighed loudly. “I keep track of you just as much as you keep track of me, okay? Anyways, you follow my methods this week and I can guarantee you’ll get at least a 98 on this quiz. Though I need one thing and one thing only in return.”

There is a pregnant pause as he re-evaluates her claim. He had nothing to lose, as the coming quiz would not affect their overall grade and therefore if he did score lower than his average, it would not harm him too much. She seemed really genuine throughout her little explanation and he was planning on cramming to no end anyways. Was there really an easier method? 

“Alright,” he decides, dropping the defensive stance and folding his arms across his chest nonchalantly. “What do you want?”

“It’s very simple really,” he has a clue on what she’d like just from her little smirk of triumph. “Your cooperation.”

…

What?!

“That’s it?”

“Well, yeah,” she shrugged, “It’s not like I proved anything yet so I’m in no place to ask for things.”

He recoiled abruptly. That made so much sense; why didn’t he think of it? Maybe she was really smart.

"Well then," [Name] awkwardly shifted her weight and looked away from his piercing gaze. "I guess I'll see you later."

Sasuke stayed rooted as she brushed past him in a blur and left him in the girls' bathroom. He was trying to recollect what had just happened, when he realized she hadn't mentioned a time he was supposed to meet her. He narrowed his eyes.

"Idiot."

-break- His lips were pursed in infuriation as he sat picking at his food. He was suddenly hungry and started to genuinely dig in, when his father erupted into a hearty, yet uncommon laugh. His elder brother received a pat on the back and the usual gushes of pride from the otherwise stoic Uchiha patriarch. He slumped his shoulders and his eyes stayed fixated on his plate.

"How about you Sasuke?" 

The silence that followed his kind mother's question was suffocating. He hid behind his bangs when his father's smiling eyes turned stone cold when it landed on his youngest son, scrutinizing and unimpressed, just as they always were. He muttered a quick reply and got up abruptly. His mother stared sadly as he walked away.

Sasuke slammed his door shut, locked it, and lay back on his bed. Papers and books were sprawled all over the room, and he reminded himself grudgingly of the test at the end of the week he had to cram for. Consequently, a certain girl with a stupid grin popped in his thought. He couldn't understand how someone like her could ever achieve higher than himself, more so when she blatantly stated how she didn't study as much as him.

He sat up. Maybe she cheated some way or another?

Later, he was seated at his messy desk, highlighting important information in his biology text book and making notes on the side. The digital clock read 23:43, so he dropped his highlighter and pen and rubbed his eyes tiredly. He still had seven sections to go until he completed the unit.

Sasuke grabbed his phone and found a text message from an unknown number. He stared at the bright screen for a moment, before tapping on the notification.

Step one: No studying after dinner, assuming you eat by seven. And if you don't eat dinner then we have bigger issues. No skipping meals either dude. Please retire for the night.

He blinked comically. This was certainly her.

  Sasuke growled under his breath and glared at the message as if it was [Name]. Who did she think she was telling him to go to bed?!

His phone vibrated and another notification came from the same number.

Remember our deal; you agreed to cooperate. Gosh Sasuke, I felt your malice all the way where I live.

Fine. Stop texting me.

He slid under his sheets and stared at his phone. Maybe this was his ticket to freedom; his route to receive that pat on the back from his father. He wanted to see how this turns out.

~fin

This was actually the beginning of a sasuke x oc story I wrote way back and never posted. I’ve got about a thousand of these and thought I’d edit this one and throw over here. Let me know what you think!

Tip Jar | Naruto/Naruto Shippuden Masterlist | part 2 ->

[autoirishlitdiscourses]

Discourse of Saturday, 10 April 2021

You changed would juggle to juggled in line with general academic practice, and you provided a really, your deadline for you, OK? Oversleeping, even though you may find that connection as a thinker or a bit in the novel. Distribution of paper handout. I think that it would be necessary to make it. All in all, I think that you are traveling with a web browser that supports your claim, will result in the formula above is actually quite a good Halloween! However, any good copy of it. I fully appreciate this it's not you agree with you about your ideas more collaboratively. Again, please let me know if you get/zero/points for section in another book, while waiting for the student's schedule hasn't changed, but it's more or less normally adjusted despite being very polished in many ways even though it is that race gets slipperier the more easily accessible representations of the outside world, on the sheet handed out today to be jumped, but really, your recitation, midterm, and the Stars, and this is not entirely satisfying way, and failure to notice an email, or the other students in class with respect, and that's perfectly normal and acceptable at this point whether there is of poor quality: The Dubliners' version of your own logical processes more carefully to be helpful.

However, one sentence at a draft of a letter grade. I had told him that what I'll expect is that I am personally less than half a percent away crossing the line into A-range paper grades discussed in class, then you have any questions, OK? All in all, though perhaps incidental to the rest of the resources you consulted while doing so. Midterm review. All in all substantial ways to go before me, and extreme claims require very strong familiarity with the connection between textual material and related topics, but you picked a good paper here in many ways. Feel free to propose alternatives, but I don't believe I've seen any of the two elements plough, stars and then mercilessly edited your paper being more successful would be higher than an analysis of a reminder that I can bring your hard copy of your main claim in the poem in section. I will do so by that time passes differently when you're at the coin from the final exam except that you can make up for discussion. Another would involve remembering that Yeats's father and brother both named John Butler Yeats were visual artists, and I think that one key element of pushing this concept as far as getting discussion going: you'll get that to give quite a difficult text; there might be to pick out the eighth one without grading it, which seemed to warm up more quickly for you by the time that you haven't done your recitation in the UK and Ireland, regardless of the group members will have to report this to you. You picked a very strong job yesterday you got most of the day before Thanksgiving. As with everything else except for the course website as your model, and that's part of why I want to accomplish. Chris Walker's guest lecture slideshow along.

I think that you finished early. My point is to make intermediate connections that you need particular approaches to Futurism; it's just that I'm poorly qualified to evaluate how passionate a particular depiction of people haven't done the reading. I suspect, is in how you're using them as choices made as a simple concept in many societies, but writing a more specific about what your other discussion points. But everything looks really good beating on the structural schema given to friends: Carlo Linati; Stuart Gilbert J.

I myself tend to agree with me. Third: remember that sometimes sitting down and start writing. If you have any other reason. You've written a very good paper here in many ways, and you're thinking about it, because it's a busy point in the front of the time limit will result in a professional setting. I am performing grade calculations in such a great deal since you gave a thoughtful grace in your paper graded by the time limit has come up with an urgent question the night of section; eight got 9 or higher on the more likely to be just a little below the middle of the texts we are reading by the other students, that this class, but I also feel that there are a lot of ways. If there's someone who's been a pleasure having you in lecture or section, not on me. Well done, and I've gone ahead and confirm that the overall argument will be spent on reviewing for the absolute final deadline to name your poem and connect them to lecture on the day that your thesis at the time limit you've sketched an outline with more rigor. Wednesday, but rather attempts to gloss over anything, but it would be true either for comment or to be reciting as soon as possible. What is my nation? 494-95 p. Which is bad. Yes, that's fine my 6 p. If you have already given up 70 points out of that section within the time that you should also go to bed late tonight and see what people do some of your presentation is unlikely, you should aim for a reason to freak out. Truthfully, I think, always a few things that come from the course at this point in the future. Ultimately, I think that putting V for Vendetta in the front of a chance to add classes without a petition. I suspect the professor hasn't said how much your writing despite some—mostly—rather nitpicky comments I've made some very good paper in other respects. Both of these are often quite good, nuanced writing. The Butcher Boy. Choosing more than 100% of the things the professor to say: if you have any questions, OK? Hi! I could try to avoid them, I'm sorry about that. Has a much longer paper in a way that they've done for most students to add extra space at the final metaphorically speaking, of course grade.

You have to get 5/5 of the test in another class, and Cake next to each other and how that structures the characters' understanding of the historical and cultural ties to the novel; and mop up with Joyce's appropriation and recasting of classical mythology Ulysses in front of me to let the discussion section is UXJU. Again, I think you've got a good impression and pick up every possible point available for the quarter by ⅓ of a proper Works Cited page; any borrowings from anyone at all, you do well just by doing background reading on aspects of the texts with which you can respond productively if they don't warm up quickly is not an easy thing to do it more in your introduction and conclusion around that interpretive claim.

VIII. Another potential difficulty is that we're going to wind up on the feedback for paper topics, in lecture. I appreciate that this is the best clothing possible, because it's so centrally concerned with Irish nationalism are connected in rather interesting. You were clearly a bit too tired tonight to do as well.

Les Demoiselles d'Avignon; Woman with Mustard Pot aha! That is to have been years where I've graded two hundred papers and gave a solid understanding of the entire class. Thanks for letting me know. 238 Reading quiz, if I recall correctly, was mentioned in that part of your TAs for English 150.

Still, an English Paper lots of good work here in a solid, overall, you did well here. Have a good job of choosing not to cancel my office or schedule an appointment with me for any reasons less severe than hospitalization will result in an even more. The Covey 6 p. Do you want it to be to make sure you can point the other hand, posting it on the other reading assignments for Ulysses recitations is over remember that at the beginning of the quality of the quarter, and, if you're busy during that time. I realized that your copy of Word and work it can be a tricky job to engage in micro-level issues of the text s and that tonight was not my area of expertise, one of the format of the class at this stage, your projected paper looks like you're writing more of an A-. Your readings of the work that you were on track throughout your time and wind up posting it on the make-up, and the to a lot of silences let them sit for a good job with it. As far as it were a couple of suggestions. Hi!

Again, well done overall. Question is not good, clear readings of Richard III, from taking an opportunity for you to be substantial deviations from the Aeolus episode of The Wake Forest Book of Irish literature, due on Tuesday night, so let me know if you have other priorities instead of seven, and you related your discussion notes by the poem, and I quite enjoyed having you in any case, let me know and we can chat after lecture. I just heard back from the paper in my margin notes and look at my discretion, although other people to examine the presuppositions that the most part though it is, and giving other people. No real surprises for me to. The Butcher Boy in the specificity that you are hopefully already memorizing. I'll assess each component separately and email it to. Awesome! Sorry for the quarter is theoretically possible but really, your ideas are actually doing? I think that this is what is your job to engage in a more central position in your discussion of as close to every comment, and is mentioned in that case.

For this reason, deciding that you could take Playboy as a source. This set of arguments about a text during the week preceding the section. I'm glad that worked out. I think, to be more successful than just being a good move on your grade in the paper has to teach, and you touched on some important material provided an important maneuver. There are a number of important issues and showing that you picked to the actual amount of time and get you started thinking about the relationship between the different kinds of people the characters was a wonderful and restful holiday break!

Does it answer your specific point.

If you don't email me and I will be scaled to 150, the more that you are quite likely at that point. I think that this is a short description of your email, but they're not yet chosen a recitation for 27 November or 4 December On poems by Paul Muldoon, Quoof Paul Muldoon, provided that you look for cues that this has happened, review briefly any major points into questions, but you're absolutely welcome to talk about this. Have a good Thanksgiving break. 5% on the section hits its average level of deviousness, intelligence, or sent me email or stop by my office or after you reschedule it: technology breaks. Again, thank you for putting so much ground that it's a good thumbnail background to the poem by 4 to 5%, depending on to and the idea that will be thinking closely about how the text to connect your thoughts this is, what do you want to go above and beyond the length limitation work productively for your health. You expressed an interest in the literal sense of the book it appears on your sheet so I wouldn't want to pursue the topic as a group is, or after lecture, and what you think about this profitably, and what the fellow is thinking about how you'd like, etc. The question will be much more apparent to you. Great! More importantly, though, your points because it will help you to think about where you move effectively from text to connect your thoughts are being represented. You also demonstrated that you have several options: prepare a longer selection than the other side of this. Thanks! Something else entirely? Etc. I'm pretty sure there are a real bitch at the very opening bit twelve lines of the texts saying to a specific point about that. Happy Thanksgiving! Let me play devil's advocate here and there memorizing your selection specifically enough that you want to make sure that your body paragraphs don't wander too far afield. Again, I realize. 25 on the issues that you had quite a good set of background information. You did a good move, because in my office door SH 2432E, provided that no one else at all. In romantic relationships by subsuming them under merely bestial impulses; that it curved back to you, not a certain way, and think about their relationship. I think that one, to talk about.

I can just bring it to be productive.

It's not. I have to do, because I think that articulating your criteria for determining what the implications of the quarter, you did quite an impressive move. If I'm wrong about how you disagree with you and use standard citation methodology more carefully to do as soon as possible. Note also that serious problems may lower your grade by 1. Have a wonderful poem, and the way that Beckett conceptualizes it.

Well. What if that works better for you, or could select a selection from each paragraph, and you did quite a good weekend, and might have helped some, here is a waste? No longer legal tender in Britain and Ireland, the winter of perfect communion; To-morrow the bicycle races Through the suburbs on summer evenings: but to-memorize twelve-line chunk; pick a selection that you bring up in discussion. The other people's textual selection in question. For one thing, and setting a positive example for them, in South Hall 1415. You had a good lens for. I Do Like a S'Nice S'Mince S'Pie sung by Corp. —You'll take the exam, and you are working. On what your total points for the announcement in lecture. This is perfectly OK to return to the section meeting and that is not something that you made two genuinely tiny errors, and responded in a comprehensive list. However, you have received a boost of a group of talented readers, and what you'll drop if you are going quite well I have graded all of the total possible points for section in a a central claim in the sense of the recitation assignment or the penalty for backing out at the last minute to use the poems you choose. Nothing that I'm allowed to pass. Think about what specifically was the fact that marriage is primarily important insofar as he makes clear in the class as a whole. But tomorrow afternoon that works best, OK?

If, after lecture tomorrow. So, what immediately suggests itself to me. —Part of the Anglo-Irish Literature, fall back on, and the way that men see and understand women, his understanding of the Anglo-Irish Nugents may very well on the assumption that you will put in a way that they are assumed to feel more intensely, because you will put in a flirtatious correspondence with a lot of similarities to yours.

Again, thank you for doing a large number of sections attended relative weighting 50 _9 Research Paper Letter grades for papers are assigned based on your recitation, you really did quite a strong job! I'll give you does not work as expected/, because the email I promised to forward to your larger-scale concerns with other people in the time, and what you're saying and what you see absurdism most clearly illustrated in the email me a photocopy of that looks good to me I'm looking forward to hearing you do a couple of ways, and you do so in section on 27 November or 4 December discussion of a text that's separated temporally from Punishment, 1984, Brave New World, and because you're going to be a stronger, clearer stand on the web or in posting your notes and get you your add code from him. Hi! Thanks for doing so by 10 a. I am currently leaning towards calling on you. Here's a breakdown on how to deliver it. A is out of the issues that you've actually set yourself up to reciting in lecture today that you think, too, that there are probably thousands of races, and thinking abstractly about the way that it could be. I forgot to say. The sample paper available on the final, and in line 22. As promised in the stream of consciousness and how it changes the grading expectations for performance in a number of additional purposes, as it turns out that I think you most need to represent your own presuppositions more. Lesson Plan for Week 4:30 or so of all my students for review. I can make up for the specific text of the poem and get you your grade at your outline is 4 p.

[blackbutler-readerinsertsandjunk]

Oh! I had no idea asks were open. On the header it says closed. I hope you don't mind if I spam you questions and asks lol. I mean, I'll do it in moderation of course! For this one, I'd like to know what your house, patronus and factor like favourite character/s is! And may I also known your hcs for the school aged BB characters' houses? Thank ya! Muah!

I should really fix that; anytime the askbox isn’t closed, asks are open! Gonna see if I can change up my header so it’s less confusing :)

Also, anytime it’s open, you can ALWAYS spam me with asks!!! :D

I hope I’m understanding the question right here! SO, I think my house would definitely be Hufflepuff! The quiz I took says my Patronus would be a swan! And does this mean my favorite Harry Potter character? Because that would absolutely be Snape!

And here’s some headcanons for ya, I can’t believe these got so long!!

I didn’t do all the school age characters because I felt that’d be a LOT for one post, so I ended up doing Cheslock, Ciel, Clayton, Edward, Joanne, Lizzie, and Soma! Feel free to request more if you wanna see others, once the askbox is open again!

This was really fun and thought-provoking, it took me a while to get done but I loved it! I was really into Harry Potter as a kid so revisiting the world in a new perspective was so great!!

Cheslock

Gryffindor for sure! Although he’s undeniably bold, and can certainly be brave, Cheslock tends to be an example of the other side of the Gryffindor coin; he’s reckless and impulsive, and often pulls pranks on other houses. ― And sometimes on the people he doesn’t like in his own house.

He’s a half-blood, with his genes being split, unusually, about 50/50. His father is a high-ranking individual with a perfectly pureblood lineage, and his mother is a muggle with no wizard heritage whatsoever.

While he’s generally good at heart, there are many other Gryffindors who can’t stand him because he’s forever costing the house five points here, ten points there… he’s also brilliant at bending the rules, toeing the line between an upstanding student and a rebellious troublemaker.

He doesn’t really excel in any of his core classes, but he gets good enough grades that he’s never flunked out of any of them. When he gets into second year, he joins the Quidditch team as a beater, and as soon as he’s able to add it in, his extracurricular of choice is, of course, music. He still loves the violin more than anything.

Legend has it he once got transfigured something on a teacher’s desk (it could have been a pen, it could have been an apple, could have been a wand, whatever suits the story better) into a flask of whiskey. Without getting caught!

Ciel

Slytherin, natch, if only because he’s very shrewd and, if necessary, will do anything he needs to. Though his personality isn’t popular with a lot of the other students, even in his own house, everyone acknowledges that he’s actually a very good leader.

He’s definitely a pureblood, or at least he has so little muggle blood in his heritage that most people consider him so. Both of his parents were wizards, but there is some muggle blood a few generations back on his father’s side.

Curiously, he doesn’t care much about social standing or competitions or the like. That said, he still manages to earn Slytherin a lot of house points just by doing the things he’s good at and scoring exceptional marks on tests.

In his first year especially, he struggles with flying quite a bit, and he never really grows to be that skilled on a broom despite doing well enough to pass the class. What he lacks there, he makes up for in charms, and later, the study of ancient runes. He often needs a tutor in his other classes in the first year or two; in his later years, though, he becomes a tutor to younger students, especially for charm spells.

His housemates will vouch for the fact that he seems to get an awful lot of mail from his household back home. Some of it is letters. A lot of it is just candy… which he doesn’t even share!!

Clayton

This boy is a Ravenclaw through and through! He places a high value on intelligence and is here to learn as much as possible. The Sorting Hat seemed to mull over for a while whether he ought to go in Ravenclaw or Slytherin. He’s surprisingly popular with his housemates, probably for his great intellect and his cool, focused demeanor.

He’s a half-blood, though with more wizard heritage than muggle. His mother is a near-pureblood, with most of her ancestors being pureblood wizards, and his father is a half-blood, with most of his parents also being half-bloods.

A good percentage of Ravenclaw’s points come from him. He performs well on exams, is an excellent tutor to the first- and second-years, and, though he can certainly be sadistic, typically doesn’t act on it or do anything that might cost them points.

He starts out being one of the best students in potions ― and in his later years, graduates to being among the top three in alchemy. As he matures in his classes, he also elects to take magical theory, which goes on to eventually be his chosen area of study during his wizarding career.

There was a year wherein he dated every single one of Prefect Lawrence Bluewer’s sisters in succession. Depending on who you hear the story from, Lawrence either is still pissed, or gave Clayton his blessing. Either way, awkward.

Edward

Absolutely Gryffindor, as if there was ever any doubt! He was sorted in record time, and he’s the other side of Cheslock’s coin ― a gentleman who always does the right thing, who aims to serve, a courageous young man with the heart of a lion. (That said, however, he and Cheslock are very much close friends, so he often gets swept up in his housemate’s nonsense.)

He’s very close to being considered a pureblood, if most don’t already think of him that way. His mother is a pureblood, and his father is a half-blood who’s more wizard than muggle.

Is constantly trying to make up points that getting involved in Cheslock’s aforementioned shenanigans has cost Gryffindor. At the very least, Edward usually manages to break even, so it’s as if said tomfoolery never happened. Ah, he gets sick of it, but he keeps letting himself get dragged along!

He’s an absolute wiz at flying, (pun very much intended), and starting in his second year, he eventually becomes Gryffindor’s star chaser in Quidditch. He could well make a living doing that in professional leagues. Instead, he also focuses on academia; excelling in charms and defense against the dark arts. Reportedly he’s one of the very, very few who also enjoys the lectures on the history of magic.

The younger students say they’ve seen it for themselves that his wand is outfitted with a sort of false bottom that hides a plain knife. They all wonder why that kind of wand would have chosen a fellow like Edward, or indeed why it exists in the first place!

Joanne

He’s a Hufflepuff, and proud to be! Similarly to Edward, it didn’t take very long at all for him to be sorted. He’s on the shy side, especially for his first few years, but once he starts coming out of his shell, he makes a lot of friends… even in other houses! He still feels most comfortable around other Hufflepuffs, though. They just get him!

One of the handful of rare students who’s a full pureblood with very little, if any, discernible muggle blood in his heritage. Both of his parents are purebloods, which seems to surprise people, because despite his gentility, Joanne seems to struggle with the more intensive magical concepts.

He’s not all that concerned with points, because he’s pretty much just interested in his coursework. However, like Ciel, he tends to earn house points for Hufflepuff anyway simply due to the fact that he tests well, he’s always there to help someone if they need it, and he follows the rules.

It, er… takes him a while to get the hang of flying during his first year, and even then, he tends to stay off a broom if he can help it. His favorite of his core classes is herbology, and during later years, he absolutely blossoms when he starts studying the care of magical creatures. He’s just got such a soft spot for taking care of things. He’s also fond of arithmancy, which boggles people’s minds ― they think a difficult class like that would stress him out!

Whenever he can’t sleep, he often hangs out with the Friar. The two of them (along with possibly another Hufflepuff ghost or two) will just sit in one of the common rooms while Joanne reads, and sometimes the Friar will stay even after Joanne falls asleep in a chair.

Lizzie

Nobody better have anything bad to say about Hufflepuffs where she can hear it!! Unlike her brother, the Sorting Hat took a little bit with her, waffling between whether she would be a better fit for Hufflepuff or Gryffindor. Her undying loyalty, sweetness, and strength eventually got the choice made. Other houses might think them strange, but Lizzie is a very bubbly young lady and has made wonderful friends with nearly all her housemates!

Her similarities with Edward lie in their heritage. Most people think of her as just one step down from a full pureblood.

Although she doesn’t take competition too terribly seriously, she still wants to earn as many points as she can for her house. She’s very like Joanne in that she earns points by being very kind to everyone and helping where she can, and putting as much effort into her exams as possible.

Don’t let her petite stature and sweetness fool you ― she is a beast of a seeker once she works her way up there! Quidditch is just her hobby, though, as she much prefers charms and is shockingly very adept at potions. She also takes apparition lessons in her sixth year, and dabbles for a short time in divination. She also at least considers joining Joanne in the care of magical creatures, even if she might not end up doing it.

The fact that she’s dating Ciel, a Slytherin who is seemingly her opposite, is just incomprehensible to most people. There are those who say he must have slipped her a love potion or done some other spell on her. These rumors, however, are untrue. She simply adores Ciel, and that is all there is to it.

Soma

Many of his classmates are stumped as to why a prince was sorted into Hufflepuff! Then… they meet him, and it all makes sense. He’s made of sunshine and is astonishingly devoted to anyone he decides is his friend. And, well, he sort of attaches himself like that to everybody. Strange, everybody thinks? Maybe… but these are his people!!

He’s a half-blood, with a bit more wizard blood than muggle. His father is actually not pureblood; instead, his father is a muggle whose parents were both half-bloods, and it’s Soma’s mother who is a near-pureblood, a witch whose parents are a half-blood and a pureblood.

He’s rather unconcerned with the house points, preferring to concentrate on everything he can learn in his classes. There’s so much he doesn’t know! He often costs Hufflepuff points with some oblivious behavior, as well as his exam scores not being the best, but he also often earns just as many points with kind behavior toward other students.

He enjoys his astronomy class in particular, and seems to do very well in herbology even though it’s not his favorite. He joins Edward in being thoroughly fascinated by the history of magic. He also loves transfiguration, consistently getting the highest marks in that class. It might surprise everyone that he takes muggle studies as an elective ― that interests him too, okay! In later years he’ll probably need a lot of counseling to figure out what he wants to focus his attention on.

His friend and protector Agni literally kind of followed him to school because their bond is so strong. Agni’s a half-blood who works in the kitchen at Hogwarts, and lives on the grounds, so whenever Soma needs him, he’s there. Soma loves this! All his friends in one place!

[angelsfalling16]

The Thin Line Between Pretending and Actually Loving You - Chapter 4

Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Read on ao3

Summary: Simon and Baz learn more about each other and maybe even grow closer.

Word Count: 2373

A/N: I actually managed to write this chapter pretty quickly. I only did a quick edit, though, so I'm sorry for any mistakes!

***

Baz

“Games? That’s how we’re going to get to know each other better?”

“Do you have a better idea?”

“Yeah. We could simply talk to each other and learn things that way. You know. In the same way you would normally get to know each other.”

Leave it to Simon to try to ruin my plans. And come up with a better, more obvious, way to go about doing things.

I rather like my idea, though. It won’t feel so forced, and I feel like it will be easier to open up to each other if we have something to guide us.

“You and I have never really been normal around each other, have we?” I point out. “We have never been that great at communicating, and we have never gotten along.”

“Then, why did you agree to this? If you honestly believed that we would never be able to pull this off, why did you accept my offer?”

“I didn’t really have any other choice.”

Simon is obviously hurt by my words, and I wish that I could take them back. I don’t want to hurt him, but I can’t tell him the truth either. That I accepted his offer because I liked the prospect of spending more time with him.

I can’t let him know that the pretending isn’t what’s difficult for me. It’s the part where I try not to cross the line between pretending and showing him that I actually love him.

The reason that I struggled to act like a couple around Dev and Niall is because I’m holding myself back. I have to find a good balance, and I am hoping that these games will help. I just need to find a way to get closer to Simon without falling further in love with him.

“Look,” I say, softening my voice. “if you want to back out of all of this, I understand. I will tell my friends the truth, and you and I can go our separate ways once more.”

Once again, I’m giving him an out. And once again, he doesn’t take it.

“That’s not what I want!” I’m surprised by his tone. He almost sounds…upset.

But that doesn’t make sense. Why would he care whether we continue this ruse? It’s not like he is getting anything out of it. He only offered to do this because… Well, I’m not really sure.

It doesn’t seem like he would do this just so we could get the chance to start over. We could have tried that without him pretending to be my boyfriend. Maybe he thought that I would never agree to trying to be friends. Not after everything that I put him through.

“What do you want then?” I ask quietly.

“I want to get to know you, but I don’t understand why all of this has to be so complicated.”

“It is not complicated. I actually thought that playing games would be more fun than forced conversation,” I admit, and I can see him starting to give in.

 Simon

I don’t know about fun, but these games are certainly interesting.

They aren’t even games exactly. They are quizzes that Baz found online for us to take. They’re supposed to tell us how well we know each other.

I don’t need a quiz to tell me that I don’t know anything about Baz Pitch.

I spent four years living with him, but we spent so much time antagonizing each other that we never took the time to learn anything about each other. We shouldn’t have even continued to be roommates after the first year of college. I could have requested a different roommate or moved into an apartment or a different dorm, but I chose to stay.

I feel for him, and I couldn’t imagine leaving him.

It makes me wonder why Baz chose to stay. I know it wasn’t for the same reason, no matter how much I wish it was. He was probably just worried that no one else would want to room with him if they heard how awful he had been with me.

It weird to think that I feel for a boy who I apparently know nothing about, I realize as I fail the second “how well do you know your partner?” that I’ve taken today.

I only got 6 out of 22 points, which is pretty much the worst that you can do. My results tell me that our relationship could stand some improvement. (Obviously.) It also says, “Perhaps you never had the time or the tools to really get to know each other.” That is actually pretty spot on.

Like Baz said, we never figured out how to get to know one another. We always struggled to just sit down and talk, which I guess is why Baz thought these quizzes would help us. I don’t know how this is supposed to help, though.

With a sigh, I shut my computer and slump down into the corner of Baz’s couch before voicing my concerns to him.

“I don’t understand how this is going to help me get to know you. If anything, it has solidified the fact that I don’t know you at all.”

“That was just the beginning,” he says, looking up at me from his own quiz. “To see where we stand. Don’t worry, I didn’t do much better.”

I’ve never seen Baz act so calmly about failing a quiz, and it makes me wonder what score he actually got. Surely, he doesn’t know me better than I know him.

“Here,” he says, clicking something on his computer. “I have another quiz that we can both do. Write down your answers on a piece of paper and answer how you would answer them about me and then about yourself. I will do the same, and then, we will compare our answers to see what we got right.”

“So, now you are going to grade me on how well I know you? Why, so you can judge me?”

“No. That way we know what we need to talk about, what we need to learn about each other.”

“Fine. But I get to choose the next quiz we do.”

“Deal.”

Baz sends me the link to the quiz and finds me a notebook and pencil, and I move to stretch out on the floor while I answer this set of questions.

There are only 21 questions here. Is that really enough to test how well we know each other?

I suppose we’ll find out.

Reading the first question, I am already doubtful of the helpfulness of this quiz.

What’s your partner’s least favorite body part?

Why would I know that? I don’t even know what my least favorite body part is.

After considering this for a minute, I decide to go with his nose because I’m sure that every time he looks at it in the mirror, it reminds him of me. It’s crooked from that time I punched during a particularly vicious argument that we got into our first semester. The last thing Baz would have wanted was a reminder of me, the person he used to hate.

I continue on through the questions. The next two give me a little bit of trouble, but four and five are easy.

Did your partner have a nickname as a child? What was it? Bonus point: Did they like the nickname? Why? and Which of your partner's aunts or uncles are they closest to?

Baz is his nickname that we was given when he was younger, and I’m assuming that he likes it because he still uses it. And his favorite aunt is Fiona. She’s just as awful as Baz used to act. Whenever she came to school to visit, I made sure to stay away from our door. Baz by himself was bad enough to deal with.

I guess on a lot of the questions, and there are some that I just don’t have the answer to. Like, Name two of your partner's grandparents. I can’t even name one of them. And what is your partner’s favorite smell? Why would I know that?

I didn’t even know that I had a favorite scent until after I graduated college. Until I left our dorm and realized that I missed the familiar scent of it. And then it wasn’t until a while later that I realized that the scent was Baz and his posh shampoo. Cedar and bergamot.

I can’t write that as my own answer, though, because that would mean admitting that I like the way Baz smells. I absolutely cannot do that, so I write down cherry scones for myself and leave it blank for Baz.

It takes me about ten more minutes to answer the rest of the questions. Baz is already done, and I’m not sure if that’s because he had an easier time answering the questions or if he left several of them blank, like I did.

 Baz

Some of the answers that Simon wrote down are completely absurd. For example, when it asked what your partner did during the summer as a child, he said that I spent them travelling the world and exploring castles.

He was pretty surprised when I told him that I spent most summers working on a farm with my father’s family. Apparently, he thought that I had never done any kind of physical labor in my life.

I won’t say that I did much better than Simon, but at least I tried.

A lot of these questions would be impossible to answer unless you had spent a lot of time with your partner. Something that Simon and I have definitely never done. They do help me learn a bit more about him.

I find out that Simon secretly likes country music, which makes me almost stop being in love with him. He says that, in his defense, that’s mostly what he listened to while in group homes. It’s what the other boys liked to listen to, so it’s what he was exposed to the most.

I decide to forgive him this opinion since he didn’t really have a choice in the matter but make a mental note to try to expand his music taste later on.

I also find out that he is afraid of dying alone. He has felt so alone for so much of his life that he hopes that when his life ends that he will have finally met someone who will always be there for him. It doesn’t have to necessarily be a romantic partner, but he wants to have someone in his life who he knows won’t abandon him.

I wish that I could help him find this. I want to be someone who makes him feel like he belongs somewhere, but I’m not sure that he would want me to be that for him.

I feel bad for always be so cruel to him when we were younger, and I decide now that even if this whole fake dating thing fails, I am going to do my best to make up for the way that I treated.

As we go through the rest of the questions, Simon and I both admit to things, both serious and not, before Simon searches for another quiz for us to go through.

“What about this one?” He asks, turning his computer screen towards me.

“340 is a lot of questions,” I say, reading the title.

“We don’t have to answer them all. Like you said, it’s only to get a conversation started.”

“Alright,” I agree. “Ask me the first question.”

He smiles quickly at me before turning his computer back towards him so that he can read it.

“What is my middle name?”

“That’s not fair. You don’t even know the answer to that.”

“Actually…”

***

The quiz that Simon turns out to be a great way for us to learn about each other. We learn a lot of small things about each other, but those things build up to a bigger picture that help me better see Simon for the amazingly sweet person that he is.

It also gives Simon the opportunity to open up to me about what he has been doing these past couple of years.

Apparently, he did find out more about his birth mother. The man he suspected to be his father really is his birth father, but he passed away before Simon took off on his little adventure.

Knowing who he was helped him find out who his mother was.

Her name was Lucy Salisbury, and she grew up in a small town with Simon’s father, David. She passed away during childbirth, but she got to name Simon before he was born.

Simon Snow Salisbury.

Not only is it nicely alliterative, but it also means that what Simon thought was his last name is actually his middle name.

I’m not sure where exactly Simon found all of this information, but the way he talks about it, it seems like he feels a little bit more whole knowing where he comes from, and I am happy for him.

Learning about his mother evidently is what made him change career paths. He thought that working with children who came from similar backgrounds as him would help, but now, he thinks that he wants to get away from his past, to try to move on from it.

He still wants to work with children, though, which is why he is going back to school to get a teach degree. I think that it is a lovely idea, and his reasons for it are touching.

The whole point of this was simply to get to know more about Simon, and even though I feel like I have accomplished that, I think I also fell more in love with him, the one thing I didn’t want to do.

Hiding my feelings from Simon is going to be difficult, but as we talked about our families, I realized that it’s going to be even worse when I have to introduce him to my family at Christmas.

Luckily, I still have some time before then. Time to prepare myself and find a way to better protect my heart.

***

Thanks for reading and happy holidays, everyone! <3

I took the questions from real quizzes that I found so here are the links to them:

How well do you know your partner?: https://www.gottman.com/how-well-do-you-know-your-partner/ 21 Questions to Test How Well You Really Know Your Partner: https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/in-practice/201607/21-questions-test-how-well-you-really-know-your-partner 340 How Well Do You Know Me Questions: https://www.luvze.com/how-well-do-you-know-me-questions/

[evans-maxed-out]

The Weight Of Our Sins-Samcedes

Who: Mercedes Jones and Sam Evans

Where: School Library

When: February 2010

Notes: Mercedes has some life-changing new to tell Sam..

Sam: It had taken weeks for him to be back in the same room with her-not his choice of course but pretty much because she'd avoided him since that night when all their inhibitions had been thrown out of the window, owing in no small part to the amount of drink they'd both consumed. His memories of that night were slightly hazy but what did seem stuck on a loop inside his head was the breathy cry of his name she had uttered as he had slid instead her for the first time. He was taking this slow, no need to spook her, but he had a goal in mind- them both together, dating, everything out in the open and on an even keel. He pushed the paper back towards her and hummed noncommittally before looking across at her. "The future? I guess.." he shrugged, the only real interest he had in the future was where he was going to take her for their first date, after he'd gotten her to agree of course.

Mercedes: “Yes, the future.” She replied slowly looking over the answers he had given on the practice quiz. Her head full of thoughts she tried so hard to will away. Would he feel trapped? Would he yell, would he hate her. Did he regret what they did the night of that party? The last one was louder than the rest cause she had asked herself that same exact thing over and over and the answer was always the same. No. Not for a second. For so long she had fought him about the type of relationship they had which was strictly associates, friends at best but they crossed that line and she loved it. Every second of it. Despite the fact that they both had way too much to drink she would get bits and pieces of that might back in tiny flashbacks and shortly after butterflies in the heart of her belly would come. Sometimes she could still feel his touch on her skin hot, wet kisses, from her neck all the way down to the spread of her thighs. She cleared her throat willing the visual away and granted Sam a small smile. “Good job. You only missed one. Maybe you’ll be that doctor after all.” She proved hoping for more entry to his thoughts.

Sam: "Maybe," he shrugged, uncertain for once of what the future held. Since he could remember he'd wanted to be like his father, a respected doctor, financially wealth and secure..but now? After one night with her...He knew she wanted to get out to LA as soon as she graduated high school..she wouldn't be sticking around and he'd be going to college to climb on the first rug of the ladder that would be his medical career..but the more he thought about it, the more he felt that maybe he ought to go with her..There were colleges in LA..and hell, being a doctor wasn't the be all and end all of everything right? His dad would be disappointed sure, but he'd followed Sam's mother across the country when she 'd left for college, so surely he'd understand right? No, he'd never understand-it wasn't like they were even dating-she wouldn't even give him five minutes of her time, as for allowing him to tag along with her to LA..he didn't stand a hope in hell's chance of convincing her to agree. "So what's with the questions? I thought you had your future all wrapped up in a neat bow?" he said, raising a blonde eyebrow at her.

Mercedes: “I was just curious is all.” She shrugged off the feeling that maybe she was annoying him with the talks of the future. “I do, or at least I thought I did. I don’t know recently I’ve been thinking about things and maybe now I want to change. It’s really hard to make it in the music industry and I can’t put all my eggs in one basket.” This was silly, she would just tell him and get it over with but she was nervous. She’s never really nervous. Maybe it was more fear than nerves. She didn’t want to be rejected. Not by him, but maybe she deserved it for all the times she rejected him. “Did you hear the rumor about Tina? About her possibly being pregnant?” She asked studying his face. “I bet she is scared. How would someone go about handling that type of thing at such a young age?”

Sam: “Wait...what? I thought your plan was to go out to LA?” he said, confused. “What would you do if you didn’t do that? Are you thinking of going to college?” His mind was racing, if she went to college, he needed to find out where...now that would be much easier..his dad would never need to know that his choice of where to go was based on where SHE was going. “Tina? Really..no I hadn’t heard that..” he replied, brow furrowing. “For sure, Mike has no idea...I think he would’ve said...D’ya know he’s taken up with Kitty Wilde? “ he shook his head, thinking about his friend. “I’m kinda hoping it’s some sort of rebound thing after breaking up with Tina and he’ll see the light..But pregnant? Wow..” He shifted in his chair, considering. “ Look..I know she’s your friend, but Mike’s a decent guy..so if that’s the case she needs to tell him..At least she won’t be handling it on her own..And honestly...they did the crime...so if there are consequences they need to be prepared to do the time..”

Mercedes: “It has always been my plan but things have changed to where I don’t know.” She could the words on the tip of her tongue yet every time she opened her mouth something different came out. “I doubt college is in the works, maybe. If I have the time.” Her eyes went wide and her jaw fell. “Mike dumped Tina for Kitty? Say what? Eww why? Kitty is the most valid soulless person I’ve ever met. At least Tina has a personality.” She was pleasantly surprised by his response half expecting him to call the situation reckless and irresponsible. Perhaps she was overreacting about letting him. “So would you do that? Step up. Be prepared to do whatever if you found out you’re going to be a dad? How would you go about it with being so close to starting your dreams?”

Sam: Ok, now he was officially confused. "Changed how? What could've changed that much that it would derail your plans?" he asked, bewildered. "If you have the time? What else are you gonna do?" There was definitely something up with her, no doubt about it, but he was in two minds whether to press any further, he knew how quickly she could shut down and he wanted to keep her talking for as long as possible. "Not exactly..He and Tina split and then he started dating Kitty. There was no cheating, Mike's not that kind of guy. Yeah..you're right about Kitty..she puts in me in mind of a deadly viper." He shrugged, considering her question. "Well what else is there to do..If i got a girl in trouble..then yeah..I guess I'd owe it to her and the kid to step up..The way I see it, as an adult, you have obligations..and there's no escaping some of them, so what good would acting out or running away do?" He leaned forward grabbing her hand. " I don't know..I'd have to cross that bridge when I came to it..But I'm not in that situation and there's no point borrowing trouble..Look..I get you're worried about Tina, Mercedes but asking me how I'd handle things isn't gonna help. This is Mike we're talking about and I can't say 100% how he'd react. Best thing Tina can do is tell him. Leastways, I can definitely tell you, that if it was me, I'd want to know, hands down."

Mercedes: Mercedes: WOW. He really seemed to be more level headed than she imagined. “It’s me.” She looked down at her hands folded in her lap took a deep breath and looked back up again. “Tina isn’t pregnant. It’s me. I’m pregnant.” She stood nerves all of sudden coming back to her and began to pace. “I know this isn’t what you wanted nor expected but hell neither did I. We were careful. I mean weren’t we? I know we had been drinking and things are a little hazy but then I missed my period and I never miss my period and guess what? A baby. A freaking baby. I am freaking out. Are you freaking out? This is crazy. We are 17.” She continued pacing and ranting. “You have plans to be a doctor and me a singer and can we do that with a baby? I swear I didn’t try to trap you. I’m not that type of girl. This is crazy. I took test after test and they’re all positive...”

Sam: He sat, completely poleaxed, her words echoing in his ears..pregnant, she was pregnant, he’d knocked her up and fuck..fuck...He knew better than to ask if it was his- she wasn’t like that, there was no way it could be anyone else’s but his. “Shit..I don’t understand...I wore a condom...I might have been drunk but I remember that much...It is crazy..but ok..ok..don’t freak out..we need to think Cedes...Fuck my plans..” he stood moving around to drop down to his knees in front of her. “What about you? You’ve always wanted to be a big star..” He but his lip hard, struggling not to panic, knowing he needed to be strong for her. “ I know you wouldn’t do that, that’s not even in question...I’m just..oh fuck..I’m so sorry, Cedes...I got you pregnant...” Taking a deep breath he struggled for control. “ Ok..we need to think baby...we need to think..calmly..We have options..what do you want to do..” He forced the words past his lips, wincing as he looked at her face. “We could give it up for adoption..we could abort it...”

Mercedes: Oh boy, he was panicking just like she was. This was a hot mess. They were a hot mess. She watched as he kinda mimicked her flying off the rails routine and this actually calmed her. She shook her head at the boy kneeling in front her a slight bit of fear rising. He better not pull a ring from his pockets or anywhere else. She thought to herself. “Sam,” she reached out cupping his cheeks. “This isn’t all on you. We both were there when this baby was made. This is on us. I’ve had a days to think about things clearly. One, I know this is sudden. Two, I’m not doing adoption or abortion. I’m keeping it. If you don’t want to be apart of this, I understand. I can do it alone. I just wanted you to know. Lastly, This is your out. You can walk away right now and I swear I you won’t ever have to worry about me or this baby ever again.” She took her seat and waited for him to respond.

Sam: What? She was keeping it and she was giving him an out? Sam thought about his dad, how disappointed he’s be and the tiniest, most cowardly part of him wondered if he shouldn’t just grab the opportunity and run...Hell no. This was Mercedes, the girl he’d told one day that he was going to marry her, his long ago playmate and the girl he’d been trying so hard to connect with over the past couple of years. She had hopes and dreams- and she was going to give them all up to become a mom to HIS baby. He thought if her facing the wrath of her parents, the censure and whispers of their peers and shook his head. “You’re not doing this alone. No way. Like you said, this is on US. Not you, US. If you think I’m just gonna walk away, pretend like this has nothing to do with me then you’re crazy. Whichever way you look at it, I got you pregnant. You wanna keep it?” he asked, his hands rising to grip hers, fingers sliding through her smaller ones. A curious glow seemed to light his chest as he thought of her wanting to keep their baby. He realized with a jolt that yes, while abortion and adoption were both valid ways out of this situation, he would have struggled with either one of those outcomes. “ Then fine, we keep it. Emphasis on the WE, Cedes. I’m not going anywhere, so please don’t tell me that mess again. You have every right to demand everything from me for gig and the baby, don’t think you don’t, just like I have every right to stand by you and take care of you. I’m not leaving, and we’re gonna do this.” He disentangled one hand gently, moving it to rest on her stomach lightly. “It’s not what we would’ve chosen but we’ll deal.There’s no choice.”

Mercedes: He was stepping up, being responsible and she couldn’t help the feeling of relief that washed over her in that moment. She’d go about it alone if she had but she didn’t. Sam was different. She should’ve known he would stand by her side no matter what. Believe it or not he was someone she could always depend on even when they were little and ran about no worries or cares in the world. “I feel a lot silly now,” she admitted. “I’m sorry for avoiding you all this time I was just scared of how you would react to finding out.” She gave him a smile as he placed one hand on her stomach. “You’re right, we will deal but first we have to do something.” Her face serious as she spoke to him. “We have to tell our parents.”

[gofordrakgo]

Dwelling Chapter Three

“ ‘No! No way!’ When he only responded by sticking his lip out further, she leaned forward, grabbed a hold of one side of his suspenders, pulled them back and then let them snap back against his chest. ‘Ow!’ He squawked, scrambling away from her to press himself against the other counter.  ‘That hurt!’ ”

Dwelling Summary

Dwelling Chapter One

Dwelling Chapter Two

Dwelling Chapter Four

On any given night Shea lay in bed for hours before falling asleep. Somehow she fell asleep before her head even touched the pillow in the spare bed in Lipsky’s apartment. She dreamt of swirling colors: green, black, blue mingled with odd flashes of orange, but by the time she woke up the next morning she remembered none of it. 

She woke to the sound of creaky cabinets opening and closing, and pots and pans clinking together. A slim beam of sunlight shone through the cracks in the blinds. She lay in bed waiting for a sense of panic to settle in, for her brain to start wondering where she was or why she wasn’t inside Go Tower. It never happened. She felt warm, in a cozy sort of way, and the noise from the kitchen seemed familiar and comforting. 

Never one to just lie in bed for hours after waking up, not that she’d had much choice in the matter, Shea stood, pulled her grimy jeans back on, and slipped out into the kitchen. 

Drew seemed not to hear her and she watched him in silence, stifling a yawn. He hadn’t combed his hair yet and it stuck up in odd places, loose curls forming at the nape of his neck. The way he moved reminded her of someone waiting to start dancing, despite the lack of music. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, reached for a spatula with a snappy movement of his wrist, drumming his fingers on the counter as he did. 

He wore dark jeans that hung loosely off his waist, secured by navy blue suspenders with white polka dots. In contrast, the white button-up shirt he wore was clearly too small on him, she could see every muscle in his shoulders and back flexing as he moved around. Shea blinked at him a few times. He both looked cuter, and far geekier than the previous night. 

Without a word Shea walked the rest of the way into the kitchen, popping up to sit on the counter again. Drew yelped and jumped away from her, throwing his arms up to cover his head. 

“Sh-ngh- don’t do that,” he shouted at her. Breathing heavily, he dropped his arms back to his sides still staring at her. 

She blinked at him, a little startled by his initial scream, but otherwise unfazed. “Jeez. Sor-ry, scaredy-cat.” His hair looked even more sticky-uppy in the front. 

“Oh, yes. You seem so apologetic.” He rolled his eyes and stomped back to his place in front of the stove. Scrambled eggs were cooking in one pan, bacon in the other. It looked delicious and her mouth started watering as she watched him cook. 

Shea shrugged. “At least I said sorry. It’s not my fault you got scared.”

He turned his head to glare at her, taking the eggs off the stove. He shoveled them onto two separate plates, on the counter opposite her. He switched the spatula out for a set of tongs, checked the bacon and then placed two pieces on both plates. 

He leaned against the other counter, watching her, and lifted up one of the plates. She held a hand out, expecting him to pass the plate to her. Instead, he shook his head and took a bite of the eggs. 

“No way. You still have to answer two questions if you want a meal,” he said, after swallowing. A vague hint of a smirk took over his face. 

“Well then what’d you bother making two plates for?” she snapped. His smirk pissed her off, despite the fact that they had agreed on two questions for a meal just a few hours before.  “I’m done answering questions.” 

“Then I’m not going to ask any,” he said. He plucked a piece of bacon off what should have been her plate and bit into it. 

“Hey!” Shea protested. She felt the heat, both from him pissing her off and from her own embarrassment start coursing through her veins. She had to make a very real effort to calm down before plasma started to shoot out of her hands. She hid her hands behind her back in fists, as her fingertips burst into green flame. “Ugh,” she finally muttered, giving up as the fire died. “Fine.”

“What’s your last name?”

“Pick a different question.”

“Fine. Why don’t you want me to know your last name?”

“Not answering that either.”

Drew pushed his glasses up with the back of his hand. “You must not be very hungry.”

“Just ask something else, okay? I’m not answering questions like that!”

“Fine! When you decided to run away, where did you plan on going?”

“I didn’t. Mostly I just went to all the addresses listed in roommate wanted ads, but none of them worked out.”

“Okay. Um. Oh! How old are you, actually?”

“Sixteen. Gimme.” She held her hand out again, and this time he picked her plate up and passed it over. He’d swapped one of his pieces of bacon with the one from her plate that he’d bitten, leaving her two full pieces. She took a huge bite of the eggs, pleasantly surprised to find that they were even more delicious than they looked. “How old are you?” Shea asked around a mouthful of food.

“Twenty-one. Are you planning on returning home anytime soon?” 

“I already answered your two questions.”

“Well, you’ve also already got another night to stay here, so I figure two more and you could have lunch too.”

“Don’t you have a job or- or school or something?”

“It’s Saturday. No class. And I do have a job, but it’s on-campus so I also don’t work on weekends.”

“What kind of job?”

“I’m a TA.”

“A what?”

“Teachers assistant. I give exams, help grade essays and tutor students who need extra help. Are you planning on going home? Ever?

“Cool. And… no.”

“Why’d you leave?”

“I’m still not answering that.”

“Aw c’mon, please!” His lower lip jutted out as his eyes went wide with a false sort of innocence.

“No! No way!” When he only responded by sticking his lip out further, she leaned forward, grabbed a hold of one side of his suspenders, pulled them back and then let them snap back against his chest.

“Ow!” He squawked, scrambling away from her to press himself against the other counter.  “That hurt!”

“Yeah, kinda the point. The puppy dog look doesn’t suit you.”

“Hmph. Says you.” 

“Why do you care so much about why I left, anyway?”

“I don’t care, I’m just a naturally curious individual.”

Shea scoffed. “Yeah right.”

Drew’s face flushed bright red, and he dumped his empty plate into the sink. “I’ve got tests to grade, anyway,” he mumbled and walked back into his room.

Shea stared after him. Sitting alone in the kitchen during the day seemed much more strange than it had in the middle of the night. It no longer reminded her of her childhood home. It was much too quiet for that now that the sun was up. There had always been so much noise: Dad’s tools buzzing away in the garage, Mom practicing her lesson plans before class, Fearless Ferret playing on the TV, Merrick making a fool out of himself with whatever new plot to get attention he’d come up with, Wendell and Westley’s baby babble and toddling footsteps. It drove her crazy back then. She’d give just about anything to get it back now. 

The Go Tower dwarfed their old home, and though sound constantly echoed down the cavernous hallways, it wasn’t the same. Instead of babble between Wendell and Westley, she heard more and more voices emanating from their training room as they pushed the limits of how many clones of themselves they could make, testing themselves to the point of exhaustion. Instead of Merrick poorly performing magic tricks at the breakfast table, she heard him laugh after scaring the staff by shrinking down and returning to normal before they spotted him. Instead of Fearless Ferret, she heard weights clinking together as Heath pushed himself to become stronger and stronger. Instead of lesson plans, she heard her mother writing out training schedules. Instead of buzzing tools, she heard her father on the phone with government agencies seeking the help of Team Go making deals and discussing payment. 

Though having her own bedroom started out nice, it grew lonely fast. The space was far too large for just one person. Like each of her brothers, except for the twins who insisted upon sharing everything since even their powers were identical, her bedroom in Go Tower was closer to being its own house, particularly because it consisted of several rooms. She had her own bathroom, bigger than both bathrooms in their old home combined. She had an entire gym in one room that held a treadmill, weights, punching bags, yoga mats, and various other general exercise equipment, almost all of which she was expected to use every day. Attached to the gym was her power-focused training room which held large cement blocks for her to explode with plasmablasts, a wall made of cement, painted with targets for her to practice her aim, scraps of metal for her to practice temperature control and, of course, a number of fire extinguishers. She also had a study area, with state of the art home-school textbooks on every subject imaginable, a large TV screen with video connection to various tutors around the world, and a little robot that was meant to quiz her, but it often malfunctioned and repeated the same question over and over, no matter the subject she chose. The actual bedroom itself held a king-size bed that made her feel the way she though drowning might feel.

Actually, when she thought about it, her bedroom reminded her of Drew’s whole apartment. She also had a sofa and loveseat, though they were green, that faced a television screen, though hers was far nicer and was surrounded by what must be every horror movie ever made. She had a large table in one corner, that mostly consisted of drawings of different battle plans. The only things she really liked about her room, were the bookshelves that reached from floor to ceiling. The whole room looked like a library. She even had a reading nook and fireplace. Really, the whole thing was absurd. Her closet was bigger than Drew’s guest room, despite the fact that she alternated between her uniform and gym clothes most days of the week. 

Unable to handle sitting still doing nothing after so many years of nonstop movement except for sleeping, Shea leaped off the counter. Part of her wanted to go knock on Drew’s door, but she didn’t know what she’d say to him. Plus, she didn’t want to look desperate for his attention. After all, she was only meant to be there for one more night and for all she knew he was planning on calling the police about finding a runaway. 

She dumped her plate into the sink next to his and wandered off to find the bathroom. It wasn’t particularly hard to find, given that there were only two doors she hadn’t seen opened. She opened the first to find the linen closet Drew had mentioned the night before, so it came as no surprise that the second led to the actual bathroom. 

The bright red shower curtain stuck to the side of the bathtub, but it didn’t look at all grimy. Shea peeled it back and saw that the bottom of the tub was lined with a clear adhesive, decorated with multi-colored robots, aliens and rocket ships. What a dork. And who used blueberry-ash shampoo? Curious, she picked up the bottle and opened the top. It did smell kind of fruity with a weird fiery after smell. She couldn’t decide if she liked it or not. His body wash, some sort of off-brand thing, she did like. It’s label simply read ‘Body Wash For Men’ and it smelled kind of like water, but it had a sort of a woodsy undertone that made her think of leaves changing color in the fall—something she’d rarely seen since her parents purchased Go City. 

As she moved to turn the water on, she realized she probably should ask before just using his shower, especially since she’d need to use his shampoo and body wash. She decided that bothering him because she was bored was entirely different from bothering him because she needed something, and after standing outside his door for an awkwardly long time, she knocked. 

The door swung open a moment later. “What?” Peering around the corner she could see him hunched over a desk tucked nearly into the corner of the room; he must have reached behind him to open the door. He’d flattened his hair, but only a little. He didn’t turn to look at her. 

“Can- um- can I use your shower?”

Drew’s pen finally stopped moving on the paper as he uttered a quiet, “oh.” He turned around and blinked at her before properly answering. “Right, yes. Of course. Um. Here.” He stood up and shuffled past her out into the hallway. She stood behind him, feeling more and more like the little kid he claimed she was, waiting as he opened up the linen closet. He passed her a faded blue towel, that smelled of the same lavender laundry detergent as the sheets on her bed. “I- do you want a clean shirt? I probably have something I could give you.”

“Oh, yeah, that’d be… nice, I guess.” She liked annoying him more. Being polite felt awkward. 

“I’ll leave something by the door, then?”

“Okay,” she said, forcing a shrug. “Thanks.” She hurried into the bathroom. 

The shower felt like absolute bliss. The water ran lukewarm at best, the pressure varied between barely dripping and hard enough to hurt, and she still couldn’t decide if she liked the way the shampoo smelled. But it felt so nice to feel clean that she hardly noticed all of that. 

The mirror hadn’t even steamed up by the time she got out. She realized as she looked in the mirror that she’d been an absolute disaster before. She still looked like a mess and a half. She hadn't even realized that there were yellow-blue bruises lining her chin, presumably from her most recent fight. Briefly, she wondered if the real reason Drew wanted to know who she was so bad was because he thought she was being abused. There were other bruises, on her shoulders and her thighs that she had actually known were there. 

The one on her left shoulder, a nasty looking thing, came from being thrown clear across a giant room and slamming into the wall. At first, she’d genuinely believed her shoulder had been dislocated. Most of the ones on her thighs came from a guy who called himself ‘The Hunter’. He shot her with a number of darts while she’d been dealing with another villain. Hego lectured her the entire time they were in the Go-Car for going too hard on him once she caught him. He didn’t care at all that his goal had been to kill her, or that the only reason she was still alive was because her plasma burned up the poison. 

Annoyed, Shea tried combing through her hair with her fingers. It didn’t work very well, and upon not finding a brush anywhere in the bathroom she debated between chopping it all off and just sucking it up and asking if he had a comb. For the moment she just gave up. She wrapped the towel tight around herself and listened at the door for a long moment, trying to make sure she couldn’t hear him outside. When she felt sure, she opened the door a crack and snatched up the clothes he’d left on the floor. 

He’d brought her a shirt, as he said he would, but surprisingly he’d also brought a pair of gym shorts. She felt gross putting on the same underwear she’d been wearing, even after turning them inside out, but she did what she had to. She really should have thought this whole running away thing through more, she told herself, she didn’t even have money to actually get clean underwear. Still, sliding into otherwise clean clothes felt nice in a way she wasn’t used to. 

The gym shorts were a little loose and hung at an awkward height, but ultimately they stayed up well enough after she tied the strings as tight as possible. The t-shirt actually fit quite nicely, if a little long. She suspected that he’d given her a Mighty Martian shirt, just to spite her. 

When she left the bathroom he had moved out onto the couch, red-marked papers scattered around him on the cushions and coffee table. 

He spoke without even turning to look at her. “I’m sorry if they don’t fit quite right. It’s all I had on hand.”

“Fits fine,” she said and sat down on the spare chair. “You’ve got pen all over your arms you know. And on your face.”

He acknowledged her with a grunt, one of his shoulders moving up in half a shrug. 

“What are you grading anyway?”

“Chemistry exams.”

“Didn’t classes just start like a week ago? Why are they taking exams already?”

He squeezed his eyes shut, rubbing at his temples. Was she annoying him that much? “These are finals from the summer course.”

“Oh.”

After a minute of restless fidgeting, Shea grabbed one of the exams that had already been graded and looked it over. She understood exactly none of it. Aside from not knowing anything about chemistry the guy had terrible handwriting, although he seemed to have gotten himself a decent enough grade. 

“You spelled ‘calorimetry’ wrong,” she pointed out, reading through the notes he had scrawled throughout the paper. 

“How would you know?” 

“Because the question on the front spelled it differently from how you spelled it. You spelled it like ‘cal-om-ir-etry’.”

Drew snatched the paper from her hands, holding it practically up to his nose as he searched for his mistake. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” he moaned, as he saw she was right. He slammed the test down on the coffee table and hunched over it, roughly scratching the word out. She heard him spelling the word under his breath like a chant, though he didn’t touch the pen to the paper. 

“You just mixed up the letters, it really isn’t that big a deal.”

“Nygh- yes it is,” he snapped at her, throwing the pen to the coffee table and burying his face in his hands, which pushed his glasses up awkwardly into his hair. 

She really hoped he wouldn’t start crying again, she didn’t know how to deal with that. Acting on some semblance of instinct she snatched the paper back, picked up his discarded pen and wrote the word properly underneath where he’d scratched it out. 

“There. Problem solved.” She pushed the paper back towards him and suppressed the temptation to throw the pen at his head. He pulled his hands away from his face and yanked his glasses back down to look at the paper. 

He seemed to read her writing multiple times before confirming that she had actually spelled it correctly. He opened and shut his mouth several times and Shea couldn’t decide if he looked grateful or annoyed. 

“Thanks,” he finally grunted, his voice softer than she’d heard it. When they made eye contact his entire face flushed and he quickly looked back down. 

“You know, you could’ve easily done that yourself. So what’s the deal?” 

He shook his head slowly and didn’t answer. 

Shea crossed her arms and leaned back in the chair. “I’m not gonna quit bugging you until you tell me what your deal is.”

“You’re not going to quit bugging me anyway,” he pointed out. “And it’s none of your business, alright?”

“Nah. I wanna know.”

“What’s your last name?”

Any amusement she felt vanished instantly. “Okay, fine. Just shut up about that.”

“That’s what I thought.”

“You know, your shampoo smells really weird.”

“You know, I really don’t care what you think about it. I’m sure you’ve got plenty of fancy shampoo back home.” He glared at her, but even as he said he started to look like he felt bad about it. 

“I’d rather weird-smelling shampoo to going back there,” she muttered, and this time it was her turn to look away when he looked at her. She shifted her hands behind her back. It had been too long since she’d burned off enough of the plasma energy, and she could feel how even the slightest hint of distress or annoyance was pushing her closer and closer to a full-on fire forming in her hands. 

She shot off the chair and stomped back into the room. She remembered not to lock the door just as she began to do so. Instead, she pressed her back to the door, held her hands out in front of her and finally let them light up. The whole room glowed green around her, brighter than she’d seen since the comet hit. 

When she was twelve she had tried to burn up all of the plasma in her body, thinking maybe if she could her parents would go back to treating her like Shea instead of like Shego. She’d let her hands burn and burn, until, eventually, she began throwing up, became blindingly dizzy and passed out on the cold hard floor of her training room. The worst part was that when she finally woke up she was still completely alone in her training room. She’d never tried it again. For days afterward using her powers at all brought her close to tears, the skin around her hands had burned and blistered so horribly. Around about a month later the burns turned back in callouses, and she’d never tried again. 

Burning her hands in the spare bedroom felt a lot like that. Part of her wanted to just burn and burn until she absolutely couldn’t anymore. She hated feeling all these emotions again. For the last four years, she had mostly just forced herself to forget that she had ever had a life outside of ‘Shego’. She trained, and fought, and studied and felt nothing. 

And this, this… geek kept making her feel… He just kept making her feel. She felt guilty when he seemed upset, he actually made her laugh, made her feel protected, he annoyed her in a way that she also found endearing, and… She didn’t even know. He made her feel so many different ways, sometimes all at once. She no longer knew whether she liked that better than feeling constantly apathetic.

When her veins finally began to run cold, she stopped and collapsed to her knees with her head buried in her hands. She wanted to feel normal again and none of this helped. No matter what she did she wasn’t going to get Hego to be Heath again or get Mego to go back to being Merrick. Wego might never realize they were two people; that their names had once been Wendell and Westley. Mom and Dad were never going to be Mom and Dad again. Were they even looking for her as Shea? As their daughter? Or were they looking for Shego? 

She hated all of this so much. She hated it. She didn’t know the guy sitting behind the door, and she hated that he was the first person she’d felt anything other than dutiful apathy towards. She hated him for trying to get her to open up more and then hated herself for hating him. She hated that the clothes she wore belonged to a stranger, and she hated feeling like they could never be friends because she could never tell him the truth about who she was. 

Suddenly she found herself standing up. She pushed open the door, and practically marched over to Drew. 

[ernestfgs]

Do you know what I gave myself for my twenty-fourth birthday? A copy of The Will to Power and The Prince... “Behold the super man. Man is something to be overcome." Sun Tzu, Machiavelli, Nietzsche. They were the voices that nurtured me after my father abandoned us. I made every question a quiz, every choice a test. Second best was for losers, compassion for weak, trust no one. Those were the lessons I grew up with. All I'm saying is, try to remember who I was raised by. So, deep down I’m not the same man as my father.... I’m way smarter. 📷 @cuvner . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . #books #bookstagram #book #reading #booklover #bookworm #read #bookish #bibliophile #instabook #booknerd #love #bookshelf #bookaddict #bookaholic #bookstagrammer #author #b #instabooks #booksofinstagram #reader #libros #bookphotography #art #booklove #surf #library #peniche #writer #patagonia https://www.instagram.com/p/B081FZcDUBu/?igshid=1d83swp77h8f7

[yenglainiam-blog]

How does DOUBT control us?

Hello, welcome to my tumblr page. I'm new here and to be quite honest, I am new to blogging so I have no idea where to start or really how to begin. I just know that I woke up this morning feeling like I had to write or insert some feelings into a blank piece, whether it be on paper or on my computer.

So today's topic is something that I've been contemplating on for quite some time. "SELF DOUBT". My only problem was, I never accepted that it was more of an issue/habit that I've had for so long. So to begin with this topic... I guess I should explain a little bit of where I come from.

My name is Amy, and I am a single mother of a little girl (6), divorced for 4 years now, but happily engaged with my next partner, John. He has two children of his own. I met him shortly after my divorce. Together, we are a blended family. John and I both come from a life where we had to endure a lot of trauma. John's ACE score happens to be a 9 out of 10. My ACE score is a 6 out of 10. And if you don't know what the ACE score is, it stands for Adverse Child Experiences. Once you take the test, it helps you understand how your experiences from childhood could effect your life as an adult. Below you can find the link for this test:

https://www.npr.org/sections/health-shots/2015/03/02/387007941/take-the-ace-quiz-and-learn-what-it-does-and-doesnt-mean

Rewinding back a bit more.... besides my trauma, I also had a family that was unsupportive. I have a pretty large family. 3 sisters, 2 brothers, and a mom and dad. I've felt the strain that I was a complete failure and maybe even the BLACK SHEEP of my family for awhile. I fought so many times to get the validation I needed from my mother and father. However; they didn't ever fully support me, or at least how I needed them to. Sure, they provided the necessities that I needed in life like a home to live in, car to drive in, meals and so on. But I never felt like there was much encouragement, emotional support, let alone love. There was never any hugs (unless I reached for it, but it became a pat instead of a full hard on hug), not much of any I love you's, or anything along those lines. Just a lot of "expectations" basically. I was always told that I was wrong or doing things the wrong way. Always told I would never be able to do things like my siblings have been able to. I constantly felt tugged and pulled and never felt like I was ENOUGH. They made me feel like it was my fault, and for so long I blamed myself. I stopped having confidence in me (sad, balling my eyes out at this point). I felt knocked down so many times by my family, I actually stopped counting and started to rebel. I started to have bad relationships with men, chose bad activities to do, fell into drugs, and of course by the time I turned 18, my parents and I got into a huge fight. I packed up and left and shortly after that I was forced (culturally) to marry my ex-husband. After marrying him, I moved to CA and was very depressed and sad. I gained A LOT of weight and continued to suffer mentally and physically.

Fast forward to now... On Monday night, John and I, we didn't argue but it was more of a sense that we both needed space. Maybe myself more than him. We ended up sleeping in different rooms. The next day, I said some words via text to him without even knowing I had hurt him. My words were asking him to see if he really wanted to be with me and that maybe we need to be alone. That night after our kids went to bed, we talked. He told me that he was very hurt and not happy that I doubt our relationship every time we get sad or upset. He said to me, "if you had a partner who doubted your relationship all the time, how would you feel?" He said, every time we fought, I always threw in the white towel and was ready to walk out (this was true). I, of course, right there and then realized that I was causing pain and mischief to our relationship. Obviously, I would not like a partner to doubt me. I've been doubted all my life by people I thought loved me. (sad) He continued on talking to me but I had already shut down. Buried under my large blanket, I was ready to close my eyes, sob until I fell into a deep sleep. I didn't. I remained in one piece and laid there silently. I thought John was going to leave me again and sleep out in the living room, but he did not. Instead, he came to lay next to me and held me close.

So..... what have I learned out of this you may ask? As much as I hate to admit it.... doubt gives power to negative thinking. Once you start to doubt something, your mind will spiral and continue to feed into that doubt. I doubted a lot and didn't realize this was becoming a habit. Not until last night when my partner mentioned it to me. It felt like I was smashed right into a huge brick wall. It really hurt. But it was a good causing pain. Because it taught me that for once, I have found someone who TRULY loves me inside and out, up and down, and all around. Someone who emotionally supports me, talks to me, holds me close and loves me unconditionally. I DID NOT WANT TO LOSE THIS. I knew it and I knew waking up this morning I needed to start fixing the little girl who's been in pain for so long.

To anyone who is struggling with a sense of failure to life, anyone who doubts everything that seems scary or unforeseen, just remember and keep this one thing in mind, DOUBTING is not a safe option for you! I thought it made me feel safe, but really it is inhibiting my personal growth as an individual and growth in my relationship with my spouse/children.

I read an article on how to overcome my habits with doubting situations, I'd like to share these simple strategies with you in hopes it can help you also!

Simple Life Strategies: 5 Ways to Crush Doubt

1. Awareness. The first step is to make a decision today to become more aware of when those doubts are popping up.

2. Interrupt the doubt. Next time you catch yourself doubting your own abilities, interrupt your own thought process and acknowledge the doubt (you could say to yourself – “is that a doubtful thought I’m having there?”)

3. Question the validity of the thought. Ask yourself “Is that thought a fact? Or is it unfounded?”

4. Are you looking for safety? Check in to see if the thought is leading you to take the ‘safe option’ or does it inspire you to try something new?

5. Take control. Remind yourself that we have over 70,000 thoughts every single day – and that it’s your choice today if you listen to this doubtful thought or not.

Last but not least.....

I honestly said to myself when I was younger that I am not going to be the kind of parents my parents were. I was going to be someone I needed when I was younger. So today........ I'm throwing that word "DOUBT" out the window. I want nothing to do with it anymore.

Thank you for reading my blog.. comments any or all are ok.

Sincerely,

Broken hearted woman.

[monsterfanfic]

Chapter 01: Lost and Found

      From the computer to the board. From the board to the computer. The motions continued. Ms. Martin stood in front of the auditorium sized classroom, speaking on cells and DNA as the two smart boards behind her displayed everything the Professor stated. Naturally Eva found herself looking over notes, making sure every key detail was taken down. Most of this would be reviewed once labs started, so no need to stress over it. Besides, this is Eva's third year taking a science course under Professor Martin. By now the professor's antics were memorized. Hopefully, anyways.        Shifting to the right, Eva arched an eyebrow as she faced her roommate and best friend since freshmen year at New York University, Kelly Griffin, as the two clearly had different outlooks when it came to Martin's class. Leaning back in the cushion seat, Eva crossed her arms, plainly giving Kelly her attention.        "What?" Kelly whispered, but her lack of knowledge as to why Eva was looking at her, proved the point as to what the real reason was by itself.       "We will have a test in two days, Kels."       "I know. I don't need to write notes for everything she says to pass. Besides, are you going to even remember half of that shit by Friday?"       "Maybe not," Eva responded honestly, making them of both smirk. "At least I'm trying though."      False hope was more than nothing at all. At least its giving the chance to succeed. Instead of completely ignoring everything by being on Amazon searching for phone cases.  

      "Trying my ass. I rather do it my way then play with my own emotions."        It was the same petty discussion every time. They both believed in different rituals. Rituals that had served both of them over their years. Kelly has been a last-minute study person her life, while Eva believes if you continue to go over the material it has no choice, but stick to you.       "So, what? You’re going to spend damn near a hundred dollars on what? Five phone cases, a new screen protector, and.......a lightening phone charger? Really, Kels?"  "What? I need this stuff. Do you know how hard it is to do my make-up, listen to music while trying to charge my phone, which by the way, has a shortage?"        Eva couldn't master up a response. For one that was bizarre, yet expected. Kelly had no need for any of the objects in her online shopping cart, but it's what makes her happy. So, either she'll buy them now or she'll just give her doctor of a father the task of doing it later.        These two are from two different lifestyles, but that's what keeps their friendship evened out. Their differences became a balance.         Most importantly she didn't have too much time to respond because in just that short timing an Pop Quiz was being displayed on the two smart boards. Sighing, Eva closed the laptop, putting everything away and dropping her phone down by her bag. With only her notebook and pencil out, she headed her paper properly; waiting until Professor Martin flipped the screen to the quiz itself.       Kelly looked up, not an inch of surprise crossing her face. Instead she rose an eyebrow at her beloved friend and went back to her shopping. Which most did. Pop quizzes were a bare minimum of only five percent of the class overall grade; in Martin's. Eva wouldn't take her chances however. Besides, passing these quizzes is known to help Martin lighten up on the red pen during grading.        In a matter of seconds, Eva went from wanting to smack some sense into Kelly to starting with her first written response answer to an DNA cell related question of a total of five. It would take her the rest of class to finish these questions because of how much detail was expected from each student.      By the time Martin's infamous timer went off, Eva was finishing her last sentence.        "Time's up. Drop your papers off on your way out, I'll have them graded by Monday after your test. Have a nice day."        Ripping out the paper from the ridged ends of the notebook, Eva dropped it and her pencil in her book bag before getting up and following Kelly down the stairs.       Together the girls joined the crowd leaving the science related building and into the fall breeze of the October weather. The hurricanes and unbearable heat was finally over, while Eva's favorite seasons start to take over. The changing of leaves, from heat to warm and cool temperature drop lower. Meaning the chance to pull out all her favorite clothes. Sweaters, hoodies, thigh-high boots that were brought during the summer while on fifty-percent off sales, long sleeve shirts whether button or pull overs, and baseball caps even.      The weather of love and fashion.       "We should go out tonight."        Bringing herself out of her head, making up possible outfits with future shopping trips, that may not even happen; Eva looked at Kelly, who was digging in her bag like a crazy woman. Maybe for her phone. The girl wouldn't live without it if you paid her to do so. While, Eva could leave hers unattended for days if she wanted.        "I don't know, Kels."       "Why not?" Snapping her head into Eva's direction, Kelly finally stopped digging in that damn bag. "What do you honestly have to do better? Study?"      "No, sleep."        "Bitch," Eva laughed at her response, walking the path to Kelly's next lab. "How about you resend those pictures for the note packet in Steven's class and give yourself some time to rethink that decision? Its free tonight if we're there before 11. And neither of us have classes tomorrow."        Sighing, Eva went to her pockets then to her bag. Coming up short on both ends. Of course. She forgot her phone when dropping it beside her bag right before the quiz. Professor Martin would have a class in less than ten minutes and even though she had no fancy iPhone, that Note 7 would catch the eye of anyone worthy of wanting it. Including her nosy professor.      "I forgot it......"      "Really, Ev? That's like the third time you've done that."      "I know," Stopping Kelly from walking backwards, Eva held her hands up, declining the offer. "I'll go. You head to class, I'll send the notes before you get there so you can have them up before he starts."       Not wasting a second, both of them split ways and Eva retreated their steps back to the building so many of her classmates had just piled out of. It sounds different, even felt different when walking into the silent hallway. The doors of Martin, Williams, and Mr. Elza's classes were open for the next group of students, thankfully none of them stood outside waiting, attempting to start up conversations. Eva didn’t plan to stop until she was entering the class, and that’s, thankfully, how everything planned out.

     "I know what you're here for."      Sighing, she shook her head, walking into the class. Of course, Martin was a sticker for cleanliness, time, and most importantly someone paying attention. Eva should've known her fear of someone else getting her phone would be nothing compared to Martin getting her hands on it herself.        "I'm sorry," Eva mumbled, but was cut short from an intruder's voice coming from the opposite side of the room. Her phone only inches away from where the man stood.      "Good, because I don’t plan on wasting much more time." He responds, his eyes fixed on the phone and then to Martin. Conforming what Eva thought; neither of them cared that she was even here. Honestly, Eva was too caught up in the secret guest to care why she came back. Call her nosy, but it was surly interesting.       His voice was all male. Deep, masculine, raspy, and commanding all the attention in every corner of the room with each syllable oozing from those pink, plump lips.       His attention was solely on the class room, taking in every detail as if it was his first time being here. The tone of his voice betraying that thought.       Eva kept her distance, easily slipping out the doorway of the class from their visual, but definitely close enough to eavesdrop on the conversation. She's never known Martin to have such a secretive life. The woman had sense the sexy stranger before he even spoke and did so with so much ease that Eva knew this wasn't the first and if she didn't have whatever this predator wanted, it wouldn't be the last.       "I haven't gotten my hands on it yet."      "That's not what I want to hear. It’s been almost two months, Vivien."      "Yeah, well it’s not the easiest task here, East." Dropping her famous red pen, Ms. Martin looked up who Eva could now call East.      "Especially when you're not trying."      The low rumble of Rihanna's singing Consideration caught the conversation, cutting through the tension filled room. Eva sighed in relief, after a second of silence she peeked into the class. Her eyes darting in the direction of her phone once she saw the screen lightening up against the tiled floor.      "I'll be back." The next second his tattooed hand was covering the phone. Eva's eyes trailing the lengths of his arms, both filled of drawings, cartoons, words which she couldn't make out, and random things that her eyes couldn't concentrate on. East heading at her. His long legs getting him across the class, past a terrified Martin, and to Eva in seconds.      Now, she sees him. The man's arms and neck covered in tattoos also the only places she hadn't saw where the areas his black Tommy Hilfiger shirt hid. One even right above his right eye the lone word "Mugga" traced cursively. The scruffy beard and low eyes made her back into the red painted wall behind her. His height causing Eva to tilt her head up.       "Yours?" East holds out the oversize Tinker Bell phone case holding the Samsung device, his raspy voice low as if he's not interested in anyone else hearing their conversation. Maybe he isn't.       Eva looked at the phone, then to his fingers. Each finger having the letters: E A S T written on each one. The name was obviously popular.      East Harlem. The hint of an Spanish roll to his tongue.      "Mines." It was a stupid, stupid response, but the best she could come up with. There's something about a young girl when she's in the presence of a commanding, handsome, and older man that’ll make her act a fool of herself.       Grabbing the cell phone, Eva checked her screen for any scratches or cracks, fortunately for her today was the lucky day. The sound of a low chuckle caught her attention and she looked up to see East shaking his head at her, the sight of a perfect smile staring back at her.       "Be careful." And then he was gone.

     "I cannot believe I let you talk me into this bull." Eva's voice radiated through the dorm room. Her freshly painted nails tracing the leather material of her sleeveless crop top down to ripped jeans hugging her thighs and hips.       For the past two hours, she's been in and out of clothes. From one hanger to the next as each fell to the comforter on her bed. Giving into the idea of clubbing with Kelly wasn't a fight. She knew from the second she asked, they'll be going together. For one, there's the buddy system which they live by. Secondly, it was Wednesday. Fox in Brooklyn was free until whenever every Wednesday night. She wouldn't miss another weeknight outing.       "Please." Looking over at Kelly, Eva shot her a look before grabbing her make-up case and heading to the bathroom that separated their room and the girls next door. Surprisingly, neither Eva or Kelly have introduced themselves to their suite-mates. Maybe if this was their freshmen year, yeah. But now at their junior years, it's a no go. Kelly isn't everyone’s number one, anyway. From her ties with Wall Street moguls through her father, expensive taste in clothes, shoes, and even food. Plus, her loud mouth. Few chose to deal with Kelly Griffin. While Eva simply never makes time for any of it.      "Momma Reed calling you, Ev!"       Plugging in the flat iron, Eva made sure the heat was appropriate before leaving out the bathroom and back to her bed where the flashing phone laid. Luckily, Kelly answered the phone call or she would've been stuck with another river flow of missed calls and voicemail.       "Mama." She took the call back into the bathroom, leaving Nicole Reed on speaker as she parted her wavy hair into sections to straighten.       "Eva, I called you earlier after your afternoon class. Did something happen? You're okay?"       "No, momma. Everything is fine, I just got busy with some papers and a class project," And most of my day was spent thinking of a man who is has an DANGER sign nailed into his chest. "I saw your call, but I just figured I could call you later on."      “You know I worry about you, Eva. Later on isn't promise, sweetheart."      Nicole Reed is an dear woman. She loves hard and means well, but what Eva has learned over the years is her mother has dealt with many misfortunes. Situations that have left tarnished memories in her and burned her joy. Eva only knows of only one disaster that could leave a mother so hurt and scared. Her oldest brother Nick Rita disappeared during the early 2000s, not once showing any signs of worry or hurt to their mother. Eva thought the idea of her mother losing her first born would keep them settle. Just in case, Nick ever showed up again. Instead, they ran months after he disappeared and haven’t been back to Atlanta since.        From house to house, neighborhood to neighborhood, state to state, and even out of the country once where they called Europe home a year.       Nothing helped the trouble soul. Eva knew after some time her mother was going crazy. Or at least losing it. The late whispers of monsters, Nicole mumbling low words with the lone name Nick catching Eva's attention each time.      "Mom, I'm okay. You worry about me too much."     "For God's sake, Eva, you went to New York. Of course, I do. You're in danger's plate."      Monsters live.       Her favorite words.      "Ma......"        Trailing down the pieces of hair, Eva was half way finished and decided that some lipstick and a quick fresh face would be the perfect look for the night.     "I'm fine. I'm promise, but......I gotta go, ma. I'll call you tomorrow afternoon. Love you."       Pressing the red button on her screen, Eva watched the picture or herself and her mother disappeared as her phone log appeared.      "Same ol'?" Eva nodded at Kelly's question before grabbing a rubber hair tie and parting the top of her now straighten jet black tresses. Making a ponytail before fixing it into a high-top knot.       "If same ol' is another way of saying crazy? Yes, same ol'."      "Your mother is passionate, Eva. You'll be glad to have her one day." 

      Those words weren’t as effective as the first time she heard them, but, still forcing Eva to drop her arms and look at the back of her best friend as she walked out the bathroom. Not for too long, but she did dwell on the thought. Of course, death is in everyone's plans, but doesn't make it any easier to accept. Does Nicole drive her crazy? Yes, but, she's her mother. That’s what expected. Besides they do say mother knows best. 

     She stills remember telling her mother that she would be attending New York University. Being accepted mostly from graduating top ten of her high school class. Most parents would die in happiness, trying to make sure the funds would be there for the child's admission just in case FASFA caused any headaches. They'll make sure that the trip there and picking of dorms for their child or children would be an enjoyable and memorable time. Very few would be complaining and crying for the child to change their minds.       Nicole hated every second of the process. Always finding a way to make sure she was getting into Eva's mind.      So far, she's done so, just instead, Nicole is pushing her in the opposite direction. 

     "I need some of this!" Eva shouted over the music playing. She knew the song from riding with Kelly, but the artist's name wouldn't pop up for nothing.       For the past three hours, this has been their sanctuary. From forgetting about test, notes, quizzes, homework, papers, or projects. Even overprotective mothers and handsomely scary strangers. Everything that wasn't club talk was like speaking Creole to both Eva and Kelly. All they wanted for tonight was some peace. Away from the dorms of NYU and to the place of where normal teenagers relaxed and enjoyed their weekend-like Wednesday night.       "Here," Kelly handed over the cup to Eva, the sound of a sudden gasp and a frown meet Eva soon after.        Beside Kelly and Eva, there was a man. Standing at about six feet even, dressed in all black. Eva hadn't notice him before maybe because she spotted her friend across the club with a cup and with only one of them holding the fake ID to be old enough to drink; she didn't care to pay attention to anything else.        Taking a gulp of it, Eva went to hand it back, but Kelly waved her off motioning to have to have it. Nodding, she excused herself from the small moment her friend and the grim keeper were having and finished the shot within seconds.      Tossing the cup away, Eva went outside, past the bouncer who she remembers Kelly calling Devin and outside to the coolness of the late-night air. She wasn't so sure of going back in. What she expected the drink to do; cool her off, give her dehydrated body some liquids. It seems to have done the opposite. Maybe it's the fact it's Hennessy. Regardless, she needed to be away from the loudness, heat, and intoxicating scent of weed the inside of the club provided her with.       It takes all of ten minutes for Eva to realize that she was either a low tolerance person or worst and she was drugged. It couldn't be though. It just had to be that in that small shot of Hennessy, she hit her limit. Kelly wouldn't allow her to drink something drugged.      Her body was going into panic mode, but she couldn’t lift a muscle now. Everything was weary. Sliding down the brick wall of the club, Eva dropped her phone between her legs. The wallet case falling open and her debt card and driver license falling out right in front of her.     "Fuck...."     ‘Deep breaths and keep your eyes open.’       She chanted that over and over before Eva could take control of her posture. Out the corner of her eye, she saw the bouncer moving closer to her, but thankfully for her unalert body he stayed a few feet away as if he was trying to be protective of her.      "I got it." That voice.      Seconds later that same tattooed hand wrapped around her phone, picking up the cards also in the process, but paying attention closest to the license.       "Eva....look up."       The sight of the face she had just encountered hours ago meet her glazy eyes. Eva didn't know whether she should be on guard or accept the help because whatever was going on, she couldn't fight alone. But who was he to help? Some stranger.        "I need to find Kel." She finally mumbles, her tongue feeling too heavy for her mouth in the moment.       This was either happening for a reason or she was in trouble. Out of millions of people in one city how does she run into someone twice, who by the way, she doesn't know, in one day?       There was no time to dwell on her thoughts. Before her reappearing guest could answer to her request of finding her friend; everything was gone black on her.

[thecardigangirl]

Please, don’t read this unless you care about my thoughts (and you’re not tired for how many times I’ve complained about my inability to decide if I’m Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw because I seem to be either depending on the day) or you’ve had existential crises over such trivial things as Hogwarts houses and favorite Disney Princesses.

If none of the above apply to you, feel free to scroll past this. I don’t really want to bother anybody with my nonsensical musings but I still feel like posting this will make me feel better and last time I checked, this is my blog and I can post whatever I like but of course you’re not obliged to read it, so feel free to completely ignore me.

Ugh! Just when I thought I might have finally found my house, I begin having doubts again. Canonically, I seem to be Hufflepuff, despite I got Ravenclaw the first time I took the Pottermore quiz since the rework of the site. I got Hufflepuff the very first time back in 2012 when I was asked to choose among Hufflepuff and Slytherin (I was kind of hoping to get Ravenclaw, not that I dislike Hufflepuff, I like all houses), even though I’m literally nothing like Slytherin (not only because I’m not considered “evil” as they’re usually portrayed, but because I’m not ambitious or cunning at all) apparently (as I found out later) it was because I had picked watery choices (because I like bubbling pools and merpeople) and if you do, according to the hat, you’re obviously Slytherin, which, not to undervalue Pottermore or J.K., I find to be pretty silly considering all the good aspects that could be taken into account in a sorting quiz, like picking a house out of the four yourself and let it influence your decision, as in the quiz I posted. Anyway, the thing is that I generally get Hufflepuff in Pottermore quizzes which contain all possible questions but I get Ravenclaw in basically all other quizzes, which leads me to think either only Pottermore is right, or all the quizzes are right and Pottermore is wrong. I think I might have looked at it from every possible angle and until a few days ago, I was more or less convinced I may be Hufflepuff. However, linking to this question, I’ve discovered lately that I’m not sure which of my two favorite Disney princesses: Cinderella and Belle I’m most like, which has basically made me doubt my house again. You could say it’s partly due to the upcoming Beauty and the Beast live-action adaptation, which I’m extremely excited about, though I’ve wondered about this for a long time before too. Cinderella had traditionally been my most favorite ever since I was little, one of the reasons being her blue dress (I know it’s silver in the movie but it’s blue in the merch) because it’s my favorite color (this also made me wonder if just loving blue might make me Ravenclaw, I know it might sound like it has little to do but I saw something related to it on a blog and it got me thinking) But I realized I look much more and maybe even behave more like Belle (though I doubt this at times too). In this case, I tend to get Belle in most tests and Cinderella in a few. Moreover, guess what Hogwarts houses tend to be associated with each of them, yeah, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff respectively. Though, you could argue Belle is more Hufflepuff for being very loyal and helpful to her father and the Beast and Cinderella is more Ravenclaw for her wisdom, resourcefulness and snarky attitude at times. But most people tend to sort them the other way around mostly for Belle’s love for books and knowledge and Cinderella’s hard work and kind demeanor, including myself kinda though I doubt my own house so I doubt theirs too. I’m not sure if I should trust, Pottermore, other tests or just pick a house and stick with it (which is pretty hard because I love both and like all of them, same goes to Belle and Cinderella and Ilvermorny as well though I think I’m Pukwudgie there despite I’m not really a healer but I admire them). What do you think? From what you know about me, what answer would you give? Thanks for bothering reading this and bearing with me btw, I know this whole issue might seem stupid and pointless to some.

[stopsubstanceabuse1-blog]

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[stopkingobama]

The Libertarian Hypocrisy Test

I’ve shared several quizzes that people can take to see whether they are libertarian, some of which are very simple and some of which

Image Credit: QuotesEverlasting CC by 2.0

are very nuanced and complex.

The Definitive Political Orientation test.

The Circle test.

The Libertarian Purity test.

The 8 Values test.

The world’s smallest political quiz.

I’ve also shared many examples of statist hypocrisy.

Six examples from 2014.

Leonardo DiCaprio’s giant carbon footprint.

John Kerry’s money in tax havens.

Rich leftists with kids in private school while fighting school choice for poor kids.

Celebratory leftists dodging their tax obligations.

So I guess I shouldn’t be surprised to see that someone on the left wants to play this game by combing the concept of quizzes and hypocrisy. I don’t know R.J. Eskow, but he has a quiz on a left-wing website that’s designed to ostensibly measure libertarian hypocrisy.

Though it’s hard to treat the exercise seriously since it is prefaced by some rather silly rhetoric.

Libertarian…political philosophy all but died out in the mid- to late-20th century, but was revived by billionaires and corporations that found them politically useful. …They call themselves “realists” but rely on fanciful theories… They claim that selfishness makes things better for everybody, when history shows exactly the opposite is true. …libertarianism, the political philosophy whose avatar is the late writer Ayn Rand. It was once thought that this extreme brand of libertarianism, one that celebrates greed and even brutality, had died in the early 1980s… There was a good reason for that. Randian libertarianism is an illogical, impractical, inhumane, unpopular set of Utopian ravings. …It’s only a dream. At no time or place in human history has there been a working libertarian society which provided its people with the kinds of outcomes libertarians claim it will provide.

I’m not an ideological enforcer of libertarianism, but I can say with great confidence that Randians are only a minor strain of the libertarian movement. Many of us (including me) enjoyed one or more of her books, and some of us even became libertarians as a result of reading tomes such as Atlas Shrugged, but that’s the extent of her influence.

I also find it odd that Eskow didn’t do his homework when conspiracy-mongering about the Kochs or mentioning Cato. We get almost no funds from corporations. Indeed, I’m willing to bet that major left-wing think tanks get a much higher share of their budget from businesses.

…political libertarianism suddenly had pretensions of legitimacy. This revival is Koch-fueled, not coke-fueled… Exxon Mobil and other corporate and billionaire interests are behind the Cato Institute, the other public face of libertarianism.

Though Eskow gives us a bit of credit.

…the unconventionality of their thought has led libertarians to be among this nation’s most forthright and outspoken advocates for civil liberties and against military interventions.

Gee, thanks. What a magnanimous concession!

But I’ve spent enough time on preliminaries. Let’s get to the test.

Though I have to warn you that it’s just a rhetorical test. You can’t click on answers. There’s not even an answer key where you can calculate any results.

For all intents and purposes, the test is just a series of “gotcha” questions. Eskow probably hopes that libertarians will get flustered when confronted by this collection of queries.

But I’m always up for a challenge. So I decided to give my two cents in response to each question.

Are unions, political parties, elections, and social movements like Occupy examples of “spontaneous order”—and if not, why not?

The term “spontaneous order” refers to the natural tendency of markets to produce efficient and peaceful outcomes without any sort of centralized design or command. I’m not sure how this is connected to government and politics, however. Perhaps Eskow is asking whether political pressure groups can arise without centralized design and command. If so, then I’ll say yes. But if the question is designed to imply that market forces are akin to government actions and/or political activity, I’ll say no.

Is a libertarian willing to admit that production is the result of many forces, each of which should be recognized and rewarded?

Admit it? That’s an inherent part of our approach to economics. The famous “I, Pencil” essay celebrates this principle, and this video is a modern version that captures many of the same concepts. For what it’s worth, I’m guessing Eskow thinks that the market allocation of recognition and reward is somehow deficient, so he’s making some sort of weird argument that intervention is needed.

Is our libertarian willing to acknowledge that workers who bargain for their services, individually and collectively, are also employing market forces?

Yes, we think workers should be able to use any non-coercive tactic to get the maximum pay, including joining unions. And we also recognize the right of employers to use non-coercive tactics to keep costs down. But note that I include “non-coercive” in my analysis. That’s because no employee should be forced to remain at a company that doesn’t pay enough, and no employer should be forced to hire any particular worker or deal with any particular union. Market forces should determine those choices.

Is our libertarian willing to admit that a “free market” needs regulation?

Admit it? We view the private economy in part as a giant network of mutually reinforcing regulation. But Eskow probably doesn’t understand how private regulation operates. And besides, I’m sure his question is about command-and-control government regulation. And if that’s the focus of the question, am I a hypocrite for saying yes in some circumstances, but accompanied by rigorous cost-benefit analysis?

Does our libertarian believe in democracy?

Most libertarians will avoid the hypocrite label on this question because we are not fans of “democracy.” At least, we don’t believe in democracy if that means untrammeled majoritarianism. Indeed, the U.S. Constitution was created in part to protect some minority rights from “tyranny of the majority.” The bottom line is that we believe in a democratic form of government, but one where the powers of government are tightly constrained.

Does our libertarian use wealth that wouldn’t exist without government in order to preach against the role of government?

This question is based on the novel left-wing theory that wealth belongs to government because the economy would collapse without “public goods.” This might be an effective argument against an anarcho-capitalist, but I don’t think it has any salience when dealing with ordinary libertarians who simply want the federal government to stay within the boundaries envisioned by the Founding Fathers. Small-government libertarians are willing to give government 5-10 percent on their income to finance these legitimate activities. But, yes, we will preach when the burden of government expands beyond that point.

Does our libertarian reject any and all government protection for his intellectual property?

I’ll admit this is a tough question. I’ve never written on this issue, but libertarians are split on whether governments should grant and enforce patents and copyrights. Though I suspect both camps are probably intellectually consistent, so I doubt hypocrisy is an issue.

Does our libertarian recognize that democracy is a form of marketplace?

The “public choice” school of economics was created to apply economic analysis to political action, and most libertarians would agree with that approach. So the obvious answer is that, yes, we recognize that democracy is a type of marketplace. Once again, though, I think Eskow has an ulterior agenda. He probably wants to imply that if we accept market outcomes as desirable, then we must also accept political decisions as desirable. Yet he should know, based on one of the questions above, that we’re not huge fans of majoritarianism. The key distinction, from our perspective, is that market choices don’t involve coercion.

Does our libertarian recognize that large corporations are a threat to our freedoms?

Since libertarians are first in line to object when big companies lobby for bailouts, subsidies, and protectionism, the answer is obviously yes. Libertarians opposed Dodd-Frank, unlike the big companies on Wall Street. Libertarians opposed Obamacare, unlike the big insurance companies and big pharmaceutical companies. Libertarians oppose the Export-Import Bank, unlike the cronyists at the Chamber of Commerce. We are very cognizant of the fact that businesses are sometimes the biggest enemies of the free market.

Does he think…that historical figures like King and Gandhi were “parasites”?

This question is a red herring, based on Ayn Rand’s hostility to selflessness. As I noted above, very few libertarians are hard-core Randians. We have no objection to people dedicating their lives to others. And if that means fighting for justice and against oppression, we move from “no objection” to “enthusiastic support.”

If you believe in the free market, why weren’t you willing to accept as final the judgment against libertarianism rendered decades ago in the free and unfettered marketplace of ideas?

Since we don’t have any pure laissez-faire societies, we libertarians have to admit that we still have a long way to go. But our views aren’t right or wrong based on whether they are accepted by a majority. Heck, I would argue for libertarianism in France, where I’d have several thousand opponents for every possible ally.

I’ll close today’s column by briefly expanding on this final question, especially since Eskow also made similar claims in some of the text I excerpted above.

If you look around the world, you won’t find a Libertopia or Galt’s Gulch (egads, a Rand reference!). That being said, there is a cornucopia of evidence that nations with comparatively small and non-intrusive governments are much more prosperous than countries with lots of taxes, spending, and intervention.

Yes, voters do have an unfortunate tendency to elect more bad politicians (in place likes France and Greece) than sensible politicians (in places such as Switzerland and New Zealand), but that’s not the real test. What ultimately matters is that there’s a very strong relationship between liberty and prosperity. Libertarians pass that test with flying colors.

This is a guest post by Dan Mitchell “a high priest of light tax small state libertarianism”

[americanlibertypac]

The Libertarian Hypocrisy Test

I’ve shared several quizzes that people can take to see whether they are libertarian, some of which are very simple and some of which

Image Credit: QuotesEverlasting CC by 2.0

are very nuanced and complex.

The Definitive Political Orientation test.

The Circle test.

The Libertarian Purity test.

The 8 Values test.

The world’s smallest political quiz.

I’ve also shared many examples of statist hypocrisy.

Six examples from 2014.

Leonardo DiCaprio’s giant carbon footprint.

John Kerry’s money in tax havens.

Rich leftists with kids in private school while fighting school choice for poor kids.

Celebratory leftists dodging their tax obligations.

So I guess I shouldn’t be surprised to see that someone on the left wants to play this game by combing the concept of quizzes and hypocrisy. I don’t know R.J. Eskow, but he has a quiz on a left-wing website that’s designed to ostensibly measure libertarian hypocrisy.

Though it’s hard to treat the exercise seriously since it is prefaced by some rather silly rhetoric.

Libertarian…political philosophy all but died out in the mid- to late-20th century, but was revived by billionaires and corporations that found them politically useful. …They call themselves “realists” but rely on fanciful theories… They claim that selfishness makes things better for everybody, when history shows exactly the opposite is true. …libertarianism, the political philosophy whose avatar is the late writer Ayn Rand. It was once thought that this extreme brand of libertarianism, one that celebrates greed and even brutality, had died in the early 1980s… There was a good reason for that. Randian libertarianism is an illogical, impractical, inhumane, unpopular set of Utopian ravings. …It’s only a dream. At no time or place in human history has there been a working libertarian society which provided its people with the kinds of outcomes libertarians claim it will provide.

I’m not an ideological enforcer of libertarianism, but I can say with great confidence that Randians are only a minor strain of the libertarian movement. Many of us (including me) enjoyed one or more of her books, and some of us even became libertarians as a result of reading tomes such as Atlas Shrugged, but that’s the extent of her influence.

I also find it odd that Eskow didn’t do his homework when conspiracy-mongering about the Kochs or mentioning Cato. We get almost no funds from corporations. Indeed, I’m willing to bet that major left-wing think tanks get a much higher share of their budget from businesses.

…political libertarianism suddenly had pretensions of legitimacy. This revival is Koch-fueled, not coke-fueled… Exxon Mobil and other corporate and billionaire interests are behind the Cato Institute, the other public face of libertarianism.

Though Eskow gives us a bit of credit.

…the unconventionality of their thought has led libertarians to be among this nation’s most forthright and outspoken advocates for civil liberties and against military interventions.

Gee, thanks. What a magnanimous concession!

But I’ve spent enough time on preliminaries. Let’s get to the test.

Though I have to warn you that it’s just a rhetorical test. You can’t click on answers. There’s not even an answer key where you can calculate any results.

For all intents and purposes, the test is just a series of “gotcha” questions. Eskow probably hopes that libertarians will get flustered when confronted by this collection of queries.

But I’m always up for a challenge. So I decided to give my two cents in response to each question.

Are unions, political parties, elections, and social movements like Occupy examples of “spontaneous order”—and if not, why not?

The term “spontaneous order” refers to the natural tendency of markets to produce efficient and peaceful outcomes without any sort of centralized design or command. I’m not sure how this is connected to government and politics, however. Perhaps Eskow is asking whether political pressure groups can arise without centralized design and command. If so, then I’ll say yes. But if the question is designed to imply that market forces are akin to government actions and/or political activity, I’ll say no.

Is a libertarian willing to admit that production is the result of many forces, each of which should be recognized and rewarded?

Admit it? That’s an inherent part of our approach to economics. The famous “I, Pencil” essay celebrates this principle, and this video is a modern version that captures many of the same concepts. For what it’s worth, I’m guessing Eskow thinks that the market allocation of recognition and reward is somehow deficient, so he’s making some sort of weird argument that intervention is needed.

Is our libertarian willing to acknowledge that workers who bargain for their services, individually and collectively, are also employing market forces?

Yes, we think workers should be able to use any non-coercive tactic to get the maximum pay, including joining unions. And we also recognize the right of employers to use non-coercive tactics to keep costs down. But note that I include “non-coercive” in my analysis. That’s because no employee should be forced to remain at a company that doesn’t pay enough, and no employer should be forced to hire any particular worker or deal with any particular union. Market forces should determine those choices.

Is our libertarian willing to admit that a “free market” needs regulation?

Admit it? We view the private economy in part as a giant network of mutually reinforcing regulation. But Eskow probably doesn’t understand how private regulation operates. And besides, I’m sure his question is about command-and-control government regulation. And if that’s the focus of the question, am I a hypocrite for saying yes in some circumstances, but accompanied by rigorous cost-benefit analysis?

Does our libertarian believe in democracy?

Most libertarians will avoid the hypocrite label on this question because we are not fans of “democracy.” At least, we don’t believe in democracy if that means untrammeled majoritarianism. Indeed, the U.S. Constitution was created in part to protect some minority rights from “tyranny of the majority.” The bottom line is that we believe in a democratic form of government, but one where the powers of government are tightly constrained.

Does our libertarian use wealth that wouldn’t exist without government in order to preach against the role of government?

This question is based on the novel left-wing theory that wealth belongs to government because the economy would collapse without “public goods.” This might be an effective argument against an anarcho-capitalist, but I don’t think it has any salience when dealing with ordinary libertarians who simply want the federal government to stay within the boundaries envisioned by the Founding Fathers. Small-government libertarians are willing to give government 5-10 percent on their income to finance these legitimate activities. But, yes, we will preach when the burden of government expands beyond that point.

Does our libertarian reject any and all government protection for his intellectual property?

I’ll admit this is a tough question. I’ve never written on this issue, but libertarians are split on whether governments should grant and enforce patents and copyrights. Though I suspect both camps are probably intellectually consistent, so I doubt hypocrisy is an issue.

Does our libertarian recognize that democracy is a form of marketplace?

The “public choice” school of economics was created to apply economic analysis to political action, and most libertarians would agree with that approach. So the obvious answer is that, yes, we recognize that democracy is a type of marketplace. Once again, though, I think Eskow has an ulterior agenda. He probably wants to imply that if we accept market outcomes as desirable, then we must also accept political decisions as desirable. Yet he should know, based on one of the questions above, that we’re not huge fans of majoritarianism. The key distinction, from our perspective, is that market choices don’t involve coercion.

Does our libertarian recognize that large corporations are a threat to our freedoms?

Since libertarians are first in line to object when big companies lobby for bailouts, subsidies, and protectionism, the answer is obviously yes. Libertarians opposed Dodd-Frank, unlike the big companies on Wall Street. Libertarians opposed Obamacare, unlike the big insurance companies and big pharmaceutical companies. Libertarians oppose the Export-Import Bank, unlike the cronyists at the Chamber of Commerce. We are very cognizant of the fact that businesses are sometimes the biggest enemies of the free market.

Does he think…that historical figures like King and Gandhi were “parasites”?

This question is a red herring, based on Ayn Rand’s hostility to selflessness. As I noted above, very few libertarians are hard-core Randians. We have no objection to people dedicating their lives to others. And if that means fighting for justice and against oppression, we move from “no objection” to “enthusiastic support.”

If you believe in the free market, why weren’t you willing to accept as final the judgment against libertarianism rendered decades ago in the free and unfettered marketplace of ideas?

Since we don’t have any pure laissez-faire societies, we libertarians have to admit that we still have a long way to go. But our views aren’t right or wrong based on whether they are accepted by a majority. Heck, I would argue for libertarianism in France, where I’d have several thousand opponents for every possible ally.

I’ll close today’s column by briefly expanding on this final question, especially since Eskow also made similar claims in some of the text I excerpted above.

If you look around the world, you won’t find a Libertopia or Galt’s Gulch (egads, a Rand reference!). That being said, there is a cornucopia of evidence that nations with comparatively small and non-intrusive governments are much more prosperous than countries with lots of taxes, spending, and intervention.

Yes, voters do have an unfortunate tendency to elect more bad politicians (in place likes France and Greece) than sensible politicians (in places such as Switzerland and New Zealand), but that’s not the real test. What ultimately matters is that there’s a very strong relationship between liberty and prosperity. Libertarians pass that test with flying colors.

This is a guest post by Dan Mitchell “a high priest of light tax small state libertarianism”