#I have been thinking about an articulate response to this comment all week and u know what. this is all i got

[briileaf]

Hi! This isn't really an ask, I just want you to know I saw the forest lamp deer creature on my dash recently and I haven't been able to stop thinking about it! I'd saved the photo to use as a background (is that ok?), and did a google image search (my first one!) to find you so I could tell you how instantly I fell in love with that picture. It may be the stark white face surrounded by all that greenery, but it grabbed me instantly ❤️

Hope this finds you well!

[zenonaa]

'The conglomerate taught him a dozen languages and how to play as many instruments. They trained him to operate multiple types of aircrafts, earn billions of dollars and not bat an eyelid as a rival company begged for mercy... However, when it came to developing feelings, that was treated in the same way as stabbing a fork into a plug socket, or offering to wash the dishes instead of letting the servants attend to them. It was common sense not to do those things.'

Fandom: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc, Dangan Ronpa 3: The End of 希望ヶ峰学園 | The End of Kibougamine Gakuen | End of Hope's Peak High School Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Fukawa Touko/Togami Byakuya Characters: Fukawa Touko, Togami Byakuya, Naegi Makoto Additional Tags: Togafuka Week Summary: Togami tries to prepare himself for his reunion with Fukawa.

Comments: Day 3 for TogaFuka Week! Fantasy/Kiss.

💗 Please like, share and comment if you enjoyed it! 💗

***

As the helicopter soars above the city, Byakuya visualises skyscrapers reaching toward the sky as if wanting to claim the blue expanse for itself, like that’s its God-given right. The buildings wouldn’t look out of place in a boss battle in a light gun video game. Makoto once compared them to the final level in an old zombie shooter that he played a few times at his local arcade.

Byakuya imagines the futuristic city, teeming with electricity and life, but the image lingers only for a couple of seconds before rusting, wilting, collapsing. In reality, Towa City is an industrial wasteland. Its railroad halo dips and splinters throughout, as if made from thorns, and the ghost of a bullet train explodes into dust that rains down on the city. Buildings have been amputated, leaving only stumps if nothing at all. Squinting, he discerns a car park that is now a graveyard, with graves instead of cars.

They land the helicopter in the concrete clearing behind a rundown hotel, the loud wailing of the rotorcraft’s blades slowing into pops before falling silent. No red carpet awaits them. A staircase unfolds from the helicopter’s doorway to the scarred ground. The sky is a red lipstick stain that fades into purple like a bruise.

And a short distance away from Byakuya stands Touko Fukawa.

Touko bounds toward him. “Byakuya-sama!”

Yes, he thinks, she would still call him that. Her wild mane of aubergine hair writhes with every step. Meanwhile, he glides over. His feet make no sound.

“I’ve missed you so much,” she says, stopping in front of him. She breathes in, filling her lungs with air. He brings a finger to her lips.

“Let me speak first.” Byakuya can feel her lips vibrate as words bubble in her mouth. After he lifts his finger off, her mouth hangs ajar but she stays quiet. Now it’s his turn to inhale deeply. “We have been on quite a journey. Before we met, I held the weight of the conglomerate and all the pressures involved, while you...”

The light against her lenses flashes warningly as her brow dips into a furrow.

“... had, and still have, your own,” he finishes. His teeth scrape against his lips. “When I entrusted you with Towa City, do you remember what I said?”

“No matter the distance, I will not feel a thing,” she recites.

“That’s right. You must understand that my creation was a business investment.” He swishes a hand through the air, maintaining eye contact. “Romance goes against my existence. At that time, though I had started opening up to the idea of relying on others, and letting others rely on me... I was not interested in... in romance.”

Her silence provides a clear sky that his voice fills with grey clouds. He coughs into his knuckles.

“Part of me rejected the idea of romance... And yet, to my surprise, during our time apart, where we could only speak in video calls, my heart grew fonder for you.”

Touko’s puzzled squint blooms into a wide-eyed stare. Its intensity burns his cheeks. Still, she doesn’t say a word. What if after she had drawn close enough, without the gleam on the computer screen on his face, she realised he is as cold as a monitor? Is that what is happening now? Aoi sometimes remarked that Touko was too good for him, and when Aoi became annoyed enough with something he did or said, she would add that Touko deserved better.

He used to never doubt himself, but for the first time in his life, he wonders if he is good enough.

It feels like he has taken his first step somewhere damp and mouldy, where the floorboards could give way at any moment. Without moving, his stomach drops as if he’s already falling. Byakuya’s tongue squirms in his mouth, as if trying to reverse the words that it already unleashed, but he can’t take them back.

Instead of trying to articulate his feelings, he decides to demonstrate them to her. He grabs her waist. Her head jolts back in surprise and a moment later, their lips bump together. For several long seconds, they stand stiffly, Byakuya’s hands on her body, Touko’s hands cupping air, until he needs to peel himself away to breathe.

She gazes at him, brow wrinkled, not smiling. Then she opens her mouth and asks, “Are you okay, Togami-kun?”

The voice does not belong to her. Byakuya blinks, fracturing the concrete, the sky, her body, revealing his true surroundings. Opposite him sits Makoto, the two of them seated in a helicopter.

“You zoned out there for a good few minutes,” says Makoto.

Byakuya responds with a grimace.

To bat away the encroaching silence, Makoto chirps, “I can’t believe in an hour, we’ll finally be reunited with Komaru and Fukawa-san.”

In response, Byakuya gives a solitary hum. Makoto’s smile wanes.

“Are you motion sick?” he asks Byakuya.

“No,” Byakuya says more harshly than intended, the syllable cracking the still air like a whip and making Makoto tense. He flattens his tone and adds, “I’m in thought. That’s all.”

“About the reunion?”

Byakuya nods.

“It’ll be fine,” Makoto assures him with conviction that puts Byakuya on the defensive.

“What am I supposed to say to her?”

‘Her’ being Touko, of course. The conglomerate taught him a dozen languages and how to play as many instruments. They trained him to operate multiple types of aircrafts, earn billions of dollars and not bat an eyelid as a rival company begged for mercy. With the matter of future heirs, they instructed him on what to look out for on female applicants’ forms while choosing potential mothers. However, when it came to developing feelings, that was treated in the same way as stabbing a fork into a plug socket, or offering to wash the dishes instead of letting the servants attend to them. It was common sense not to do those things.

And yet here Byakuya was, spending the journey to Towa City mentally rehearsing how he was going to confess to a woman who had gained the power to make his heart swell too big for his chest. The conglomerate could not have prepared him for such a woman. Such an intelligent woman. Such an empathetic woman. Such a loyal woman.

Most of all, a woman who drew strength from what the conglomerate called weakness. Love.

“I mean... you can say hello?” suggests Makoto.

Byakuya’s steely gaze clenches Makoto. “Then what?”

“Like... ‘How are you?’”

“I can’t treat this like a regular meeting, as if we had only last seen each other at the end of work the previous day,” says Byakuya.

“Why not?”

“This one is different.”

As Makoto’s eyes flicker, he drinks in the tension in Byakuya’s shoulders, the tightness in his fists, and says, “Ah. I see.”

Though Makoto must have known for some time now. He and the others had started alluding to Byakuya’s feelings for Touko before Byakuya was even in denial about them, back when Byakuya didn’t know what he was experiencing, or what was making his stomach flutter.

Evening has dyed the sky orange, darkness creeping in at the edges. Byakuya stares at it through the window. His unsmiling reflection leaves a faint imprint on the glass. Silence swirls around them, hanging over their heads like the rotating blades of the helicopter.

“Are you going to tell her?” asks Makoto, and he doesn’t need to elaborate.

“I should,” Byakuya replies.

“You can try a pick-up line.” Without having to look at him, Byakuya can hear the grin seeping into Makoto’s tone. “For example... Do you like raisins? How would you feel about a date?”

Byakuya’s reflection glares as Makoto carries on.

“If I could rearrange the alphabet, I’d put ‘U’ and ‘I’ together. Or - ”

“That’s enough,” Byakuya says with a shudder, raising a hand. “I aim for my demeanour to be calm and composed. I do not intend to act like a fool, throwing out hackneyed lines.”

“Sorry, sorry. But if you don’t mind me saying, you’re overthinking it, Togami-kun.”

This earns Makoto a look from Byakuya. The curve of Makoto’s lips is slimmer now, but still holding on.

“In these sorts of situations, it’s best not to use your brain...” Makoto taps himself on the head. “... but to follow your heart.” His hand shifts to his heart and pats there next.

Byakuya tightens his lips and returns his gaze to the window.

“Easy for you to say,” he mutters.

The helicopter lands by the hotel that Touko and Komaru have been living in. If not for the lit windows and neon sign, the dark column would have blended in with the night. Steel bars cage the building, mostly unbent. Byakuya’s attention fixes longest on the sign that flashes ‘TOWA HOTEL’, ‘TOWA HOTEL’, pulsing like his heartbeat, reminding him over and over where he is.

He balls his sweaty hands into fists. He can do this. ‘Follow your heart,’ Makoto had said, and his heart has been caged for so long. It’s time that he freed it.

As in his imagined scenarios, Touko runs over, her arms spread as if about to take. Byakuya tenses, for a moment thinking that he has to catch her before she flies away again.

Fortunately, she stops in front of him, her feet rooted to the ground. “Byakuya-sama!”

Byakuya swears he feels the spray of her spit, but it might just be his sweat. Makoto digs him gently in the ribs, quirks his lips, then walks toward Komaru. At no point does Touko’s eyes stray from Byakuya, who lifts his chin and adjusts his tie. Low laughter simmers in Touko’s mouth.

“I can finally smell you...” She hugs herself. “It has been so long.”

In the past, he would have told her to shut up after saying something like that, but that doesn’t seem appropriate now. Such a comment used to come across as vulgar, and maybe it still does, slightly, but he has grown accustomed to the vines that her existence has curled around him. His tongue feels thick in his mouth as he tries to think of a response.

“Well, I can smell you,” he says.

This prompts Touko to shrink back and worry her lip with her teeth. “D-Do I...? I showered earlier today. Argh, did Komaru swap my shampoo for dog p-?”

Touko cuts herself off with a groan and shakes her head. Byakuya reaches a hand toward her.

“I mean you smell good.” He immediately cringes. Good. He said, ‘good.’ Her brow creases, whether it be from confusion or from hearing such a lame adjective, and he adds quickly, “You smell like...”

Byakuya breathes in but finds himself unable to smell her, so he leans toward her so he can. She gasps. He straightens sharply.

Time ticks as Byakuya mentally flips through the scripts he had rehearsed on the helicopter.

“Romance goes against my existence,” he says.

No, wait. He hadn’t meant to say it like that.

“Went against,” he clarifies. “Remember when I said ‘No matter the distance, I will not feel a thing’?”

Touko nods slowly, frowning. His head fills with steam, rendering it practically useless, which leaves him one other organ to depend on. His heart.

“Do you like raisins?” he says. “I’d put ‘U’ and ‘I’ together.”

Her troubled expression gives way to concern. “Byakuya-sama...?”

Byakuya lets out a frustrated groan and slaps himself on the forehead. “What I want to say is...”

She springs onto tiptoe and pecks his lips.

In that moment of contact, time stops. No more than a second could have passed, but by the time she returns her heels to the ground, he feels like he has been flung up into the sky before crashing back down again, his head spinning.

While he stands frozen, she wraps her arms around him.

“I understand,” she says muffled into his chest.

He hesitates, then hugs her back, and presses his lips against the top of her head. She smells like strawberries.

[arcticdementor]

So funny story, I made kind of a cheap comment recently poking fun at how the mainstream left vilifies the non-vaccinated white population but makes excuses for the disproportionately greater non-vaccinated black population, and in response to /u/AxiomVergeThrowaway asking what the disparity actually was, I found out that it isn't nearly as disproportionate as I had thought. According to one source it looks like 50% of whites are vaccinated and 40% of blacks are vaccinated in America. The CDC itself estimates 29% of blacks fully vaccinated and 37% of non-hispanic whites. Candidly I expected it to be more like 60% / 30% or worse. I think the amount of hand-wringing over "vaccine equity" led me to believe the disparity was much bigger than it is.

I actually had a similar experience with voter turnout figures a while back. Based on all of the fretting that I've heard over the years about racial voter suppression, I had believed that blacks vote at substantially lower rates than whites... but that really isn't true (at least in presidential elections) -- the rates are very close and in 2012 there was actually higher turnout of black voters than white voters. I think I looked it up a while ago when I was writing up my User Viewpoint perspective at /u/Doglatine's suggestion (super cool institution btw, is that still going?) while trying to articulate a point about generally low voter turnout compared with America's prior century.

Check out this article from Washington Post from 2018: "The turnout gap between whites and racial minorities is larger than you think — and hard to change". Despite a bunch of framing about Jim Crow and similar anti-black policies of the past, it is actually comparing whites against "non-whites." And despite framing the turnout gap in the context of the then-upcoming 2020 presidential election, it emphasizes data from midterm elections. And even there, what its data actually show is that there is actually just a 5 percentage point gap in white/black turnout during midterm elections, and contrary to the headline it has narrowed substantially over the past several decades. In fact all of the headline's dramatic claims are really only true because of relatively lower Asian and Hispanic turnout, which feels a little like a bait and switch -- particularly given the ways in which Asians are disproportionately privileged compared to other racial minorities and even in some ways compared to whites, and in which they are counted as "racial minorities" only when convenient, being conspicuously ignored in mainstream left discussions of affirmative action for example.

One last example. Everyone knows that schools are generally funded by the local tax base, which leads to blacks and hispanics, tending unfortunately to be located in lower income school districts, to be victims of chronically underfunded schools. I knew that for a long time. I have listened to several wealthy white friends agonize over that fact as they shame-facedly sent their wealthy white children to wealthy white schools. But it's totally false. "Blacker and poorer schools receive more per-pupil funding than whiter and richer schools. Sosina and Weathers 2019: 'On average, both Black and Latinx total per pupil expenditures exceed White total per pupil expenditures by $229.53 and $126.15, respectively.'" Maybe this example is a bit of an odd duck since it concerns allocations of resources rather than performance directly, but nonetheless: another bit of false conventional wisdom slandering the achievements of blacks (political achievements in this case).

I don't want to overstate the point; there are definitely categories where the black-white achievement gap is really big.

But there are at least a few axes on which it feels like the black/white gap has been needlessly catastrophized, on which belief in black underperformance has been basically manufactured, which kind of made me racist in the old school sense of believing false negative stereotypes about a population.

So what's up with that?

Under an ideology that rewards victimhood and oppression with status, perhaps exaggerating the black/white gap could be conceived of as trying to elevate black people, center them in the discourse, basically an altruistic action.

If the Democratic Party is motivated by causes, then perhaps that creates demand for problems.

Modern mainstream Western ideology treats racism as uniquely evil, the opposition to which binds together minority groups into an intersectional alliance, overcoming the different goals among the different factions of that alliance. Perhaps exaggerating the race gap helps to build up the specter of racism and thus hold the coalition together.

But it does feel kind of surprising and dismaying that basically I feel like I've been tricked into believing that blacks are worse off than they actually are, in at least a few respects... and maybe more that I'm not yet aware of. I don't think anyone set out with the intent to foment racism in propagating these exaggerations and falsehoods, but it seems to me like that is a result, and a predictable result at that.

[anotherisodope]

Headcanons for My Fallout Muses

John Hancock

John actually still does have hair, at least in patches, but he shaves it. Wavy blond Roger Daltrey hair is very distinctive, and if he wants to leave his past self behind (and avoid any chance of his powerful, utterly sociopathic brother finding him), he’ll obviously get rid of it.

John is known as the biggest player in all ghouldom not just for his sexual appetites, but for a sad pattern in his life that he’s not actually responsible for. He will become interested in someone, romance them, show them a great time, and cap it off with spectacular sex...only to watch them walk away every time once they’ve scratched their itch, sober up and it sinks in that they just woke up next to a ghoul. He’s spent many an early morning pretending to sleep while someone sneaks out. It breaks his fucking heart, but he just moves on. However, when he encounters those people again and they awkwardly admit their craving for him is back, he’ll flirt and be gracious, but he’ll never touch them again.

Yes, the hat will often stay on during sex. For a while anyway.

John uses chems for a variety of reasons. One is addiction, one is mitigating massive amounts of emotional trauma, one is improving on his natural abilities (transhumanism) to give him an edge on his problems and enemies, one is seeking insight just as with the episode where he found his hat and coat, and one is because he’s a hedonist and they’re fun. He gives out chems because he assumes a bit too much that others will share at least some of these reasons--and also because he doesn’t want people in Goodneighbor dying from severe withdrawal symptoms or bad chems.

John tends to hide just how dangerous he is in a fight so that fools like Finn will underestimate him. He’s starting to reconsider this some, however, since if people around underestimate him too much they will challenge his position, and thus his ability to look after Goodneighbor.

Charon

Charon’s ghoulism is the result of an injection, same as Hancock’s or Eddie Winter’s. The people who brainwashed him wanted the perfect soldier. Ghouls are durable against hardships such as starvation and rad poisoning, they survive a very long time, and their inhuman appearance alienates them from most people. To make sure that Charon was both inhumanly tough and even more emotionally isolated/hyperfocused, he was made into a ghoul as soon as his training and indoctrination were completed. Evidence: he’s not unusually skinny like most ghouls, which can usually only be said of people who took the shot. Winter actually has a pot belly. If you look at Hancock in his Batman swim trunks (squee), you’ll notice he’s surprisingly ripped for a little guy. Then there’s Charon, the sole source of USDA prime ghoul beefcake in the Capital Wasteland. It doesn’t seem like a coincidence.

He was not named Charon by Ahzrukhal. He was named Charon by the group that indoctrinated him. One of them had a grasp of Ancient Greek history and mythology and, on giving a new name to a huge, forbidding-looking man with fierce blue-gray eyes, got inspired. “Charon” in Greek literally refers to "fierce, flashing, or feverish eyes, and/or eyes of a bluish-gray color", and he’s got both. I seriously doubt that Ahzrukhal, who couldn’t even anticipate the consequences of abusing a dangerous retainer and then freeing him of his obligations, would even get the eye reference. Instead, I suspect he purchased Charon’s contract in part because he’s a wannabe, had a theme going and could NOT resist a terrifying bodyguard who fit his “hehe I r demon and u r in hell” kindergoth aesthetic.

Charon does not trust Cerberus. He’s been in too many fights with Gutsies in the past to not notice how twitchy and prone to violent malfunction they are. Nor does he think that it’s safe to rely on a robot that explodes when severely damaged, with enough force to bring part of Underworld’s roof down. He is more observant than most of the Underworlders (though he’s not articulate enough to explain his observations), and may also have noticed the anti-ghoul comments Cerberus makes around smoothskins. It does not sit well with him that Cerberus may be one visitor’s button-push away from trying to murder them all. However, he has no opportunity or permission to speak with Doctor Barrows about the problem, and so instead picked up a few pulse grenades while out on a job for Ahzrukhal and keeps them handy.

Charon does not remember much of his human life, and none of his life before his indoctrination, including his original name.

Charon was originally indoctrinated to be completely obedient to his contractor; his ability to set certain boundaries, refuse non-combat missions, plot the murder of contractors whom he finds morally repugnant, and be sassy and sarcastic to his contractor are all indications of his strength of will, and subconscious resistance to being anyone’s slave.

Getting through to Charon emotionally or sexually would take a lot of time and work due to his indoctrination, his trauma and his total lack of experience connecting with others. His stoicism, which prevents him from being able to do things like grieve or ask for help, would additionally make him harder to connect with. He’s also thoroughly practiced in denying his own needs and desires, which doesn’t help.

Charon spends a lot of time going over past battles and security situations in his head when forced to stand watch as a bouncer day in and day out. Ahzrukhal thoroughly exploits his lack of a need for sleep, meaning that he never gets any time off or ability to speak with others unless he’s out on a job. The result can be days or even weeks of just standing there, watching and waiting. To keep from losing the rest of his sanity, he’ll replay old situations from his career in his head, both for the taste of past victory and to analyze his own tactics.

Nick Valentine

Nick suffers from pain and stiffness in his joints, especially neck/shoulders, because of dust and small debris getting in through his broken skin. He does what he can to repair and maintain himself, but because of his experiences he has a deep, almost unconscious distrust of roboticists, even if he could find one good enough to fix him up. Meeting his brother DiMA provides him with a possible source for repairs that he can trust, but he would still insist on being conscious through all procedures.

Nick is capable of love and sex, but didn’t even let it enter his mind for many years due to being haunted by the murder of his fiancee and his failure to bring Eddie Winter to justice. Now that Winter is dead, he’s way out of practice at romance, he still completely misses other people’s interest in him, still squashes any interest he has in another, still has body issues, and is shocked when anyone flirts openly with him.

Nick enjoys the smell and taste of cigarettes and scotch, but can’t drink scotch anymore because the damage to his face and neck would make him leak it all over himself. :(

Even after all this time, Nick will still look down at himself sometimes and be momentarily shocked to see a metal-framework hand instead of flesh and blood. Other times, he has trouble remembering what the flesh and blood felt like. 

Nick has the most ridiculously overdeveloped work ethic of anyone this side of Preston Garvey.

[honeymoonjin]

day 11 & 12

With Festa in full swing last week, I feel like I didn’t have a chance to breathe let alone sit down long enough to articulate a review worthy of Day 11. I shall endeavor to do my very best to make up for that here. And, upon reading the start of Day 12, I am actually kinda glad I waited because I think that it gave me time to put both chapters into perspective. 

Day 11 was a very emotional one for Jungkook and I feel like we got to see those emotions coming to a head in this chapter. On the whole, Day 11 was such a fun, lowkey entry that I wasn’t really sure if I would have anything coherent to offer beyond high pitched squealing accompanied by the occasional swoon and cooing. But after seeing the tension and subsequent squabble that transpired at the breakfast table on Day 12, I see that perhaps there was more to ruminate concerning the feelings that Jungkook had experienced in the confessional booth. It’s so interesting from a writers perspective that you chose Jungkook to be the one to reiterate the whole point of the show; he’s younger, thus perhaps conventionally he’s a bit more emotionally immature than the rest of the guys. And yet, from the beginning, none of these guys have ever been portrayed as stereotypical or conventional; you have always expertly reminded the audience that each of the contestants (including our lady!) is more much complex than what meets the eye. It’s one of the things that I love so much about this series; none of the characters are ever “too perfect” and it’s those candid moments of vulnerability or weakness that truly makes this story stand out from a lot of other stories that I read. So to choose Jungkook as the person to make those “bold” comments and to have Namjoon be the one to call him out for being insensitive makes me feel like Jungkook’s response was much more complex than what it seems at glance. Like, it’s pretty obvious that Jungkook likes and respects our lady and perhaps he realized his indiscretion just a little to late but now he’s put on the spot, he’s been called out in front of everyone, and beyond the fact that he probably feels like shit for saying what he said and inadvertently hurting our lady in the process. He’s probably also hella embarrassed. I wonder too if maybe Jungkook is also ashamed that the person who called him out was Namjoon, someone who I want to believe, he respects and perhaps maybe admires a little. And despite the fact that I chuckled a little bit when our lady noticed that Jungkook was “staring at his pancakes like he’s trying to make them burst into flames”, I realized that he might also be both angry and disappointed in himself for his behavior. *sigh* Boy, you were so right all those weeks ago when you said “emotions are messy”. Anyway, that’s my roundabout way of saying, I liked the breakfast scene. Haha! Drama is inevitable; I love that you don’t shy away from presenting conflict for them to overcome. It offers opportunities for character growth and character exploration and I really appreciate that! 

Speaking of character growth, Namjoon got a chance to really flex those skills he acquired from “Hoseok’s School of Sexual Prowess”. That scene left me melting! Melting, I say! I’m not sure if you noticed but I make it a point to not reveal who my actual bias is in these reviews because I feel like I want to give all of the guys a chance to win me over for fan favorite. What I will say though is that you kind of hit on a lot of my personal preferences with Namjoon’s scene. Beyond the fact that the scene was really, really hawt, it fulfilled me on an emotionally intimate level, so it made the scene extra special. Bravo! 

And I suppose Jimin also deserves a standing ovation for that amazing show he put on. Holy smokes that was so hot. From the light banter and quips at the beginning of that scene to Jimin actually owning that entire lounge! And as amazing as the show (plus subsequent private scene with our lady afterwards) was, my favorite bit might be the exchange between Jimin and Hoseok, another scene that filled with tension and new revelations! It might actually be the most fascinating scene because it gave a glimpse at something rather unexpected; something has transpired between Hoseok and Jimin. I might be reading too much into the exchange but it feels as though something has happened away from the cameras between them. Because it feels like there has been a shift from blatant hostility between these two to something more akin to a genuine understanding that this is now a battle for power and control. I could be reaching but I feel like, at the very least, there have been words exchanged between them! It made the scene all the more intriguing! I loved every moment of it. Oh! Speaking of which, what is up with Jin?! When Yoongi asked Jin to speak to Kookie about what had happened that morning, it seemed he was a bit apprehensive to take up the task. I know that there might not be anything more there than just the fact that Jin might not want to be the one to have to broach the subject with Kookie but I feel like there’s more there than what meets the eye as well… my theory is in it’s fetus stage though, so I feel like I’ll hold back on my thoughts concerning Jin for now. And Yoongi, for that matter! I feel like there is something more there as well. AH! Too many theories to juggle! I will let you know what my thoughts are about it once I have gathered more adequate information. 

I still feel guilty for not being able to give you a full length review of Day 11. It really was such a great, light day. Jungkook’s scene left me all hot and bothered to the point where I spent the entirety of the week, searching up Jungkook smut fics to fulfill my Jungkook fix that that chapter evoked in me! Not to mention that the boys getting up to antics for a whiteboard that in the end they didn’t really need just made me all the more baffled by their behavior. It was fun, hilarious and just what I would expect from the guys.

To make up for not having anything for last week, I would like to take the opportunity to tell you about me loving this amazing story so much I nearly force-fed my best friend to read it with me so that I would have someone to fangirl with. Let me tell you a little bit about her. See, she doesn’t consume fanfics with as much verocity as I do. She is a very casual fanfic reader and if she does (which is rare in it of itself) she only ever reads MxM. Period. So when I told her the premises of “The Gentlemen” she was curious enough to read the contestant profiles. But I must say, from Day 1, you had her HOOKED! She would text me screenshots and emoji filled fangirlings in the wee hours of the morning (the only time she had to read at all) every single thing she loved about each chapter and it brings me so much joy that she was really dissecting and appreciating all the little things that I too loved about your story! We would have long, deep discussions about her prompt theories, her favorite members, tiny details that you’ve so expertly woven into the story (like Jimin’s tattoo for example, which is something she is obsessed with, btw) all of her favorite traits that our lady of the house has. It’s been so blissfully fun having this to share with her especially since I have her to thank for getting me into BTS in the first place. So, please know that you have a secret fan of “The Gentlemen” who would like you to know that she has been enjoying herself thoroughly and that she looks forward to your updates just as much as I do now! 

Anyhoo, I think I’ve prattled on long enough. Thank you so much for your continued hard work and dedication to this series! This was such an amazing chapter I cannot wait to see how everything unfolds; it feel as though these last 2 chapters have planted some major seeds (no pun intended!!); I look forward to see what it sows in the coming days. 💜 Jan

Oh my gosh! In all of my ramblings, I forgot to say "shout out to Lady Mango! You go get that stake, girly!" Also, YAY Grandma Park!! Heck, that entire exchange in the bathtub made me uwu so hard my heart is just a pile of mush rn! Also, also!! Jin x Tae is lowkey underrated, so thank you for that! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*✲ﾟ*｡⋆ I lub u so much!! kthnxbye

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i’m not ashamed (okay, maybe a little) to admit that i kinda teared up and did a happy lil dance when i saw the email that you’d sent in a submission fksdjfkds i figured you’d probably been busy with life or with the mountainloads of content bighit is giving us these days so i was content to wait patiently, and it just made it that much more exciting when i saw this come in !

thank you, as always, for being so sweet and articulate and thoughtful in your reviews of the chapters. often you point out things that make so much sense that perhaps i hadn’t even noticed when writing. other times you hit an idea that i’d slipped in right on the nose. 

jungkook definitely is having a pretty tumultuous time on the show. for him, i imagine he feels like he’s the only one having a difficult time ironing out his feelings, or that if anyone else is struggling too, that they’re acting like nothing’s up. i also feel like jungkook’s competitive streak comes through in unexpected ways. of course he feels proud of his sexual prowess and kinda wants to showboat a little bit, but i think there’s an aspect too where he needs to be the one that’s always bolder than the others to assert his position. writing the namkook scene i kind of drew on that feeling where you’re fighting with someone you care about or think highly of, and even as you realise you’re wrong, you don’t want them to think badly of you and so you desperately scramble for a way to come out on top or prove you’re in the right. there’s also def a degree of him trying to convince himself the show is just about sex and that the rest doesn’t matter. he certainly doesn’t feel that way inside, but we see him vouching from that position so fiercely in d12. 

i’m glad you liked the namjoon scene !! one day i’ll figure out your bias fkdsjfksdjk you do such a good job at analysing and discussing everyone equally that it’s difficult >.<

it’s so fascinating to hear your jihope theory that they’ve spoken before. i must keep my silence on the details BUT there will be a very important scene between them coming up in the next few days of the show that i think will really change things between them and also how the readers see them. i’m super excited to write it ! 

beyond that, i’m happy you noticed something about jin in this chapter.... yn and jin still haven’t resolved their issues yet, plus here we are having jin not respond that well to being asked to counsel one of the members, something he always stated he was happy to do,,,,, hmmmm 0.0

i love hearing your theories so much !!! i eagerly await getting new content out so i can see how they shift and change from release to release

and also you really don’t need to feel bad ! there’s never any obligation to write out a long review for every chapter, but you do so anyway and that means a lot to me xx if you’re busy one week you don’t have to force yourself to make time for it. we have over 50 chapters, so we’re in for the long haul ! there’s really no rush

ahhhh that’s so cool to hear about your friend! it always warms my heart hearing stories of people that got their friends to begin reading and stuff, honestly even the thought that people think about tgm outside of reading it blows me away, it feels so special that it’s something y’all wanna share and discuss w your loved ones xx 

YES LADY MANGOOO i love adding little slips of her in the chapters, i know she doesn’t factor into the main story that much but everyone can rest assured that all of the members of the house (okay, and probably our three on-site producers too) spend a lot of time with her, walking her and cuddling her and playing with her. tae is probably currently trying to teach her some commands, but of course the only one she’s got the hang of is lie down jskfjsd

(finally YES taejin is such an underrated duo i love them)

[pertinax--loculos]

‘Dash’

So, for funsies I went through @yourocsbackstory to try to get myself in the writing mood again. This is what happened. I stopped at ‘Skills’ cuz I’ve already spoiled enough if you read close enough haha.

Come meet Dash.

Introduction

My name is Dash.

Or, well, it’s not really. That’s what everyone calls me. It circumvents the pain that comes with my first name, the questions that come from my last.

The knowledge that comes from my second.

I thought my life was pretty much mapped out from here. There was the beginning, that I barely remember. The next chapter, that I wish I could forget. The third, the honeymoon. And then now; not the best, far from the worst, an existence I was fairly certain I’d be able to bear, at least until the drugs or the alcohol overwhelmed me and my body gave out and I’d be buried in an unmarked plot under a false name with maybe three people to mourn me. If I was lucky.

Then that idiot fundie wandered into my life.

The Church is a fucking blight on society, the worst thing that’s happened since organised religion first got a foothold within civilised communities. It’s like they took all of the parts that made people unwilling to admit they were Christian in intelligent company and emphasised their importance until they were the only things that mattered.

To say nothing of what they think of the brainbent.

But unfortunately, what the old movies and books used to say is accurate. Give people a common enemy and they’ll unite under almost any flag.

The brainbent weren’t an enemy. But you consider the prospect of the barista at your local coffee place potentially being able to tell the future, or to read fucking minds, and tell me you would’ve stood against the Church.

I’m sure you will.

You’re lying.

Which is why Raleigh was such a surprise.

The Partners focus on the commoners, on people who know what the Church is about but haven’t been indoctrinated since birth. Members are basically written off as a lost cause. Even if, somehow, that person would’ve been a supporter if they’d been born in the right place, it’s not worth trying to convince them after years and years of brainwashing. They learn to suppress any thoughts, any opinions, that don’t jive with the company line. Trying to tell them otherwise is useless.

Which is why I don’t.

And still he came back.

I mean, Alec is probably right. He normally is. Odds are I’m being an idiot by even considering that this guy may be open-minded enough to accept that people exist that don’t believe the same as he does.

(And that’s not even going into all the other fucked-up facets of my existence.)

But for some reason, I’m willing to take that chance.

Even if it kills me.

Family I

There was always the memory of the Others.

It wasn’t a clear comparison; it wasn’t like he could look at Now and realise that it was different to Then. It was more like some weird false memory from early childhood buried deep within someone; a recollection of a room full of glass when apparently it had been an open-air market. A jar filled with blue that no one else remembered.

A loving mother and father. A melody without words.

There were other hints, of course. They never raised a hand at the child they insisted was his brother. They refused to acknowledge his grasp of genetics and never gave an explanation for the colour of his eyes. When he woke screaming for a mother he knew he no longer had the false one pretended, but she never offered the glass of milk, never pulled him onto her lap and stroked his hair and sung that song until he drifted off into gentler dreams.

Things got worse and worse as he got older. The more he could articulate the problems he had with the narrative they fed him the worse the punishments got. The first time he’d mentioned having another, a different, father they’d been too taken aback to respond; the reaction the second time had ensured he’d never bought it up again.

Every achievement, every failure, always framed within what he wasn’t and what he’d lost, what he lacked and how he disappointed.

One day, teenaged and trying to squirm his way into their good graces, he’d heard his brother mentioning the girl in class. He’d piped up as well, after seeing their indulgent responses, letting them know that there was someone in his class too, a boy who’d caught his eye. He’d been banned from school for a week after that.

His father told him people would ask questions about the bruises.

 Friends

He’d assumed that the confession that the intimacy bought him no pleasure would be enough to make her disappear. He’d lost acquaintances for less, many times before.

So when she turned up on his doorstep three days later he stopped, stunned, with the door open.

She raised her eyebrows at him. “Letting in the cold?”

It was nearly a hundred degrees outside, and he was already sweating through the long-sleeved shirt he’d pulled on to open the door. He stepped back to let her in, still speechless, and followed her as she walked confidently through the rooms to his favourite.

He swallowed a few pills just for something to do. It was a stupid idea, his supply was already running low, but he hoped the kick would help him through whatever conversation was to follow.

She watched, her brows pulled together in disapproval, but didn’t break the silence.

“What do you want?” he said finally, his voice too rough, too apprehensive. He’d told her he couldn’t do it anymore, but he knew deep within himself that if she offered enough…

She shrugged, her face clearing. “I’m of the opinion that no one should be alone, today of all days.”

Dash just stared at her, utterly uncomprehending.

“Y’know,” she said, and then raised her eyebrows a little when his expression made it clear he didn’t, “Christmas?”

Oh, fuck, of course. He’d known the date was approaching but it meant less than nothing to him, except for the fact that most of the shops were closed. He really shouldn’t have had those pills, not if he was gonna have to last another two days before he could restock.

She kicked her legs out in front of her as she leaned back against the wall, eyes roving the spartan room. “So you got a tv or what?”

Which was how they ended up sprawled on his bed, fully clothed and above the covers, picking at the leftovers of a pizza he’d had in the fridge while a tiny voice in the back of his head insisted that this was what friends actually were.

 Education

He accepted the envelope with a sinking feeling. He knew what the letter inside was going to say.

Miss Phillips gave him an encouraging smile all the same.

“I know you struggle in some classes,” she said kindly. “But you really do excel in others. And really, all you need is a little extra help in English and I think you’ll be doing fine. I’ve explained that to your parents in your report.”

Like that’s gonna fucking help, Dash thought, but all he did was smile and nod. It wasn’t her fault he was stupid. It was his. He’d been told that many times.

He walked to his locker and gathered his things slowly. He could already hear his brother crowing in his ear, with his perfect scores and better comments. If he didn’t know better he’d think that the teachers were aware of the identify of their father and tailored their comments to suit.

But if that was the case why did they still throw him under the bus?

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to learn. He did, and he loved the stories, loved listening to what happened and even analysing why the author might have put certain characters and phrases in certain parts and why. But expressing that through writing was beyond him. Understanding why or where a comma went or why through was spelled o-u-g-h but throw was spelled o-w sent his head into a spin and there was nothing he could do about it. Nothing his teachers could do about it either, as they spent their time with those that were better, those who had a right to their last names instead of a tenuous and fluctuating claim.

Mr Carr, in the workshop, was astonished by him. Said he was among the best students he’d ever had, was amazed by his ability with electronics and the way he could take apart and put together components without ever glancing at the instructions. He said he was a natural, that if he wanted he could certainly go places, because there was always a need for someone to fix those things that were broken.

But his parents assured him that he was what was broken, and the grades sent him into the dark. They never even read Mr Carr’s report.

 Family II

Family had always been a dirty word.

He was caught in a weird sort of limbo; there was that which he remembered that he wasn’t supposed to bring up, and then that which was current but which he was not really a part of. Intellectually, academically, he knew what a family was. Hell, even from observation he knew what a family was. If he took a step back, removed himself from the equation and simply watched Father and Mother and Brother interact, then he knew what a family was supposed to be.

But try to impose himself upon that and he was reprimanded, reminded that he was not a part of it, that the family he might’ve been a part of no longer existed, that he was Other, that he was Alien and unwanted and his duty was only to disappear and to cause no more problems than he already had.

So when he met his family he was overwhelmed.

They walked through the door and were suffocated in affection, enough that Dash had to get out of there; he found him later, hidden in the garden, his face concerned.

“We were wondering where you’d got to,” he said, quietly, gently, as he always did.

“They don’t need me there,” Dash replied.

His eyebrows tugged together in the beginning of a frown. “Maybe not, but we want you there.”

Dash’s laugh was bitter, a little too manic. “No you don’t.”

It took a while – way too long, he should’ve been back with his family – to coax Dash out of the greenery and into the bulk of the backyard. Waiting there was an elderly woman, older than anyone Dash had had reason to interact with.

“This him?” she’d said, but before either of them could react she’d grabbed Dash’s hand and yanked him forward.

Dash couldn’t help but flinch. It didn’t appear to affect her. Her eyes, bright and the same colour as his, searched his face.

“Ah, yes, very good,” she said. Dash glanced around wildly but he was just standing there, something that might’ve been embarrassment pinking his cheeks.

“Are you satisfied now?” he said.

The old woman grinned at him over Dash’s shoulder.

“Yes,” she said. Dash felt his fingers on his elbow; just before he towed Dash back into the anonymity of the rest of the garden they heard her speak again.

“I see what you say about his eyes.”

 Rivals

Fuck.

Dash had managed to avoid this dick for nigh on two months. Why the hell he was encountering him now, just as the oxy started to kick and make him loose and easy and happy, was anyone’s guess.

Probably the Members would say it was god’s work. Dash was pretty sure it was a punishment.

The guy stalked up to him, characteristic scowl twisting his features. He had to be six inches taller than Dash, but he didn’t back down.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he growled.

Dash stared into his dark eyes, tossing up a number of responses. Sarcastic, sardonic, flippant, honest; none of them seemed quite right.

He went with combative, in the end.

“I heard you’d be here,” he said, conversational. “Figured I might take the chance to learn your name.”

The guy’s eyes narrowed. They were close enough that Dash could feel his breath on his face.

“What the hell would you need that for?” he said. “Seeing as you’re not supposed to be here, and all.”

Dash twitched his shoulders in a shrug. “Yeah, well. Sorry, but I’m not really good at taking orders.”

Something flickered behind the guy’s eyes, something that might have been amusement. “I get the feeling that you’re more likely to do the opposite of what the orders might suggest.”

Dash caught his eyes again and raised an eyebrow. “Wow. It’s almost like you know me.”

Pause. The guy’s breathing had evened out, but he hadn’t moved away.

“Are we having, like, a civil conversation right now?” he said.

Dash quirked his eyebrow again. “Certainly seems that way.”

Another couple of beats. “Is it just me, or does there seem to be an extraordinary amount of sexual tension involved?”

Dash couldn’t stop the grin from tugging at his lips, even as he leaned in closer.

“Oh,” he said quietly. “It’s not just you.”

 First Love

Despite the mistake of telling Father about him, Dash kept watching him.

Over the week it took for the bruises to fade he thought about him. When he first returned to school, his was the first face he looked for.

He didn’t seriously think it would lead to anything. How could it, given what everyone believed? But Connor was new to the city, and he wasn’t involved with the Church. That much Dash had figured out through rumour and innuendo. And he was left alone, during recess and lunch, all of the Members turning their noses up at him, to the point where Dash wondered why on earth his parents had sent him to this private school. After all, there were schools for commoners. They weren’t as good, but that was the sacrifice people made.

Not Connor’s parents, apparently.

And he was the only one who didn’t conceal his staring at Dash’s fading bruises.

He’d been staring beforehand, of course. That was what had made Dash first mention him to Father, the mistake that had led to him realising that he wasn’t the same as his brother and never would be. But it was he alone that continued to stare even after Dash’s absence. The others seemed to have been told not to.

Not Connor.

Dash cornered him after school one day, halfway across the green in the front of the school. Connor looked surprised but not alarmed, moving easily backwards as Dash stalked towards him. His ease crackled against Dash’s already strained nerves and he had to viciously curb the instinct to lash out, his learned impulse to beat down anything that stood against what he was trying to do.

They stopped when Connor’s back hit the wall of the gym. Dash was mere inches from his face, trying his best to channel the disgust and rage he’d seen so often on Father’s face.

“Why do you keep staring at me?” he demanded.

Connor hadn’t flinched like Dash would’ve under the violence of the question.

“I’m worried,” was all he said.

That threw Dash for a loop. Why the fuck would anybody be worried about him?

“You’re lying,” he said, suspiciously.

Connor raised his eyebrows. “Why would I do that?”

Dash hesitated for a couple of seconds, made his voice even more strident to make up for it. “Because you’re trying to get me to admit it!”

“Admit what?”

Connor’s voice was still gentle, questioning without prying, and Dash found himself whirling away from him, knotting his fingers in his hair and pulling, focusing on the burn on his scalp and not on Connor’s placid, knowing words.

The touch on his elbow was foreign in its gentleness. “Whatever they’ve told you,” he murmured, barely audible over the shouts reverberating in Dash’s ears, “They’re wrong.”

When Dash’s fingers found his he felt like he was home for the first time he could remember.

[illstaywithstray]

Reaction to you being sick/ hospitalized while they are on tour

Maknae Line

Note: (WARNING: MENTIONS OF ACCIDENTS AND HOSPITALS) 

Aw thank you sm! I think it’s kinda on my part too since I don’t have a steady posting schedule yet, so I can’t expect people to like and comment haha. I want to try posting regularly after finals week! I’ll post the Hyung Line here.

Hyunjin:

Chan stopped the music, trying to catch his second wind, “I think we got this part down for the concert tomorrow, yeah?” The chorus of agreement that followed marked the end of practice. Hyunjin wiped his forehead, checking his texts from the past hour. As he scrolled through your recent messages, he noted your unusually short texts. “What’s wrong?” He glanced over at Seungmin, who had just finished showering and was now the only one other than him still in the locker room. “Not sure, y/n’s being dry.” “Oh, yeah, don’t worry about that, the doctor just told her to stay off her phone for a while.” “Doctor? Why?” Seungmin glanced over his shoulder to check if Hyunjin was joking. “Hyun, she’s in the hospital right now. Because of the car crash?” 

Hyunjin finished packing a few basic things while dialing your number. You answered, hungry and confused. “Hello? Hyun?” “Y/n, what the hell?” “What’s wrong?” You sat up straight in the hospital bed, clutching your phone for dear life. “Seungmin told me you got into a car crash? Why didn’t you call me right away? Fuck, I’m getting a plane right now. I can’t believe you didn’t-,” you cut him off, laughing lightly. “Hyun, I just broke my leg, I’m not dying.” You heard him exhale quietly as silence fell over the line. He muttered that you would die one of these days and then sighed louder. “Okay but still, do you need me to come over there?” “No loser, I’m completely fine. I just didn’t say anything because you have that concert tomorrow.” “So? You’re more important.” You sat in stunned silence, feeling your face heat up. “I can literally feel and HEAR you blushing, but for real, FaceTime me tonight and prove you aren’t dying.” “Deal.” 

Jisung:

Jisung was sitting outside, staring up at the stars, praying and wishing with his last strands of desperation. His eyes kept darting to his phone screen, waiting for a text, a call, or any sign that you were awake. 

Three hours ago, Felix and Woojin had burst in the dorm, screaming bloody murder. Woojin had an unnerved expression as Felix shoved his phone into Jisung’s hands, motioning Woojin out of the room. Sung skimmed a cluster of texts from your friend Jisoo. She had texted Felix about the situation as soon as she had reached the hospital and seen you. The doctor that was tending to you explained that there had been some sort of an accident at your dorm, which had resulted in you falling off a flight of stairs. No one knew the exact events that led to the emergency, or how you managed to get over the railing, but you ended up being severely concussed and were immediately taken to a hospital. Jisung’s heart fell as he read the texts and he scrambled to call Jisoo and everyone he knew back home. The calls continuously forwarded to automated messages, and he sat, defeated, waiting for a reply. A couple hours later, his phone rang, with Jisoo’s contact flashing on the screen. He answered it, practically screaming into the phone. “Jisoo, what the hell happened? Is y/n okay? What’d the doctor’s say? Is she gonna be fine?” He heard silence on the other end of the line, and then your tired voice. “Glad to hear you too babe.” He felt a rush of relief pass over him, “y/n? Are you okay? Actually no, are you gonna be okay? Do you want me to come home?” “Sung, I’m fine, the doctor’s say I just need to rest and take it easy for a while. Don’t worry.” “How can I not worry when the love of my life almost died?” “And you say I’m dramatic. I was just fooling around with Lisa and I said I could do a handstand on the railing, but I think I stand corrected.” “You-,” he fell silent, feeling overwhelmingly relieved but irritated that you were a dumb bitch. “You’re really something else y/n. I’m bubble wrapping you when I get home.” “Ugh, I deserve that. Babyproof the hell out of me please.” “Deal.”

Felix:

Changbin sat next to Felix, one arm slung over his shoulder. The rest of the guys watched him wither as Changbin told him what had happened to you. You had been on a crosswalk when a drunk driver had slammed into you. You hadn’t been seriously injured, but you had a slight concussion and your wrist was shattered. He FaceTimed you, needing to see your face. When you didn’t pick up, he texted, dm’d, snapped and called you. And then he texted the majority of your friends. Chan said that you probably weren’t on your phone because of the concussion, so he sat back down, thinking of some way to reach you. Then his phone lit up with a few notifications. He saw your messages on Instagram, Snapchat, iMessage, and a missed call. He stared at the screen in confusion. How the hell did you manage to do all this in the minute he had been away? He opened your snap to see you with bandages wrapped around your head and a caption “I lived bitch.” His phone vibrated again with the notification of a FaceTime call. As soon as he picked up he saw you sticking up a middle finger with the highest look on your face. “Hey Fel, how’s it goingg?” You slurred your words, clearly on some sort of pain medication. “Y/n, do you want me to die of a heart attack? Why were you crossing the road, do you want to die?” “I’m a baD BITCH YOU CAN’T KILL ME.” “ Are you a chicken? I don’t think so. Next time use a car.” “heheh. I’m not the chicken, you are. Yongbok. Bok bok.” He stared at you with both intense hatred and love in his eyes. You snorted, screaming “I love you but ima sleep” and then hanging up. He rubbed his temple, wondering how one person could stress him out so much. He went back and read your message: “come bck after tour or ill hit u with me car next tyme.” He chuckled, typing in his response, “Deal.”

Seungmin:

Seungmin was calm, almost to the point where it became slightly unnerving. His fingers swiftly maneuvered the keyboard as he searched for flights back home. Minho watched him from afar, scared of the monster that he had unwittingly created.

An hour before Seungmin’s strange breakdown, you had texted Minho to tell Seungmin that you had been hospitalized because of your broken legs. Not a singular leg, both legs. The reason why was complicated and too difficult to discuss over the phone. At least that’s what you explained to Minho. He bluntly explained what you had asked him to say vaguely to Seungmin, who had seemed to break. He stared at a blank wall for thirty minutes before quickly packing and looking for flight tickets.

Minho watched Seungmin bang the keyboard angrily. There were no available flights that would arrive in less than thirty minutes. “Are we living in a socialist society? Can’t a guy get a flight?” Minho decided enough was enough and called you, throwing his phone to Seungmin and running away. “Seung? Hey.” “So I heard you broke your legs.” You sighed, waiting for his lecture. “Seung, I’m sorry, we were testing co2 cars and I wanted to ride on them-” “Are you okay?” “What?” “Are you okay? Do your legs hurt? Do you want me to do something?” You blushed, taken aback by the lack of him yelling at you to be more careful. “I’m fine, they have me on pain meds.” “Ugh, I wish I could be there for you. I literally packed all my things.” “You’re honestly the best boyfriend I could ask for.” “I try.” “Come home soon. After the tour.” “Deal.”

Jeongin:

Jeongin doubled over when Changbin told him that you had fainted and been taken to the hospital. He was unable to breathe, his chest tight and vision blurred as he shakily pressed your contact in his phone. “Hello?”

You woke up to Jennie shaking your shoulder. “BITCH ARE YOU DEAD? WAKE UP OR I’LL KILL YOU RIGHT HERE RIGHT NO-” “I hate you.” She sighed heavily, holding out your phone. “Who’s this?” You heard heavy sobbing coming from the other side, and you instantly heard Jeongin’s distinctive heaving. “Jeongie? What’s wrong?” He began blubbering and you tried to sort out the crying from his actual words. “Babe, you gotta articulate. I can’t hear you.” “What happened? Are you okay y/n? Is it serious?” You felt a mix of gratitude and guilt. “Aw, Jeong I just fainted. It was the heat. I’m fine now. They just told me to stay indoors.” “I wish I was with you.” His pout was practically visible through the phone. “Come home soon, with icepacks.” “I’ll end global warming if it means you won’t have to go to the hospital.” “Do it for me then.” “Deal.”

[elegiesforshiva]

This is a review for the amazing sasusaku fanfic Perpetual Winter by @thefangirlslair It’s a brilliant modern AU and I highly recommend it!!!  You can read it on fanfiction.net or tumblr :)))) FF: c l i c kkkk Tumblr: Part I, Special Chapter, Part II And time for a criminally late and obscenely long review!!!

Pt I

Winter has never been his favorite season

Damn what an intro, I’m already getting angst vibes lmao.  I really like how you set the scene and stage the world of this AU.  I didn’t expect the existence of clans in this piece, with it being a modern AU, but this is such a fascinating twist on the setting to me. I loved how you described Naruto’s endurance as unnatural, “like there’s a demon living inside him” and Sasuke and his clan have inexplicable warmth….inexplicable do I dare say…fire ???? ;))))))

Lmao seriously what a great way to pay homage to canon though.  I love these attributes!

Modern au Sasuke that reads poetry and drinks coffee is a brand of pretentiousness I can get behind

Aaaaaaa omg I really REALLY REALLY fucking love this intro!  I love how you describe Sasuke as appreciating liveliness, and vibrance—which we can honestly assume is canon with how his two closest people are the embodiment of these traits.  And I love how you tie it back into the seasons.  This really gives so much life to that motif in this story, and the title. That was clever af

…he was taken back to the time where winter was just a mere season, Bon Iver was playing on their shared earphones, and Sakura was his. 

WHAT THE FUCK YOU JUST FUCKING DESTROYED ME WHAT A WAY TO SEGWAY INTO THE NEXT SCENE OOOOF IM KSJDFHLJSAKFL

There are so many things I love about this following scene…  you really know how to write a couple in casual, mutual love.  The banter and candidness of their interaction just has me floored. I also REALLY love that this is from Sasuke’s perspective, and how even though he doesn’t have an overwhelming amount of dialogue, we’re in his head, and his appreciation and love for Sakura just radiates.  Lines like these:  

From her latest discovered band to a recent discovery in medicine by a genius dude whose name he doesn’t even remember, she shares it with him. Favorite anime character, favorite memory with him, favorite pair of underwear — he knows it all because she’s that open to him about things she love.

They’re just….so good. I can hear his voice, his ardor, and his impeccable understanding of Sakura’s personality while also expressiong his own.  The choice of having the narrative skewed through his lens was def a good decision. And ugh this piece is just overwhelmingly amazing already

He doesn’t know the pain to be dealt with when you’ve broken up with someone because Sakura was his first girlfriend. And honestly, he doesn’t, couldn’t, even think about being apart from her. Just the thought of them breaking up already makes him panic a little. He always thought to himself, ‘I will never let that happen.’

Okay this paragraph……………this paragraph tho……..dropping this.  KNOWING. They’re gonna break up……….HOW DARE U

Seriously, what powerful writing.  I don’t know how you do it……

I think it’s incredibly interesting that you chose music to be the catalyst for this beautiful, climactic moment of closeness  My best friend/partner and I have had convos before about it, and she and i once talked about how we think of sex with music lol.  I don’t know how to entirely explain myself on that, or where I’m really going with this, but I get the same vibe here too.  Music that’s close to you is like an artistic intimacy and there’s something very personal and vulnerable about it.  Maybe it’s an auditory thing, like getting lost in one of those guided meditations.  (idk if you’ve ever had one that actually worked, they don’t always for me, but when they do god damn, it’s unreal)  Either way, I really loved the way this scene played out, it was highly relatable and highly emotional, and I feel serenity and ardor just reading it.  Beautifully done.

I love the way you moved back to the present and we immediately feel the differences and the similarities.  The fondness and affection is still there, if not a little more muted, and it’s so obvious they still have feelings for each other.  But there’s definitely moments that speak to their separation too, with the little differences in Sakura that Sasuke notices, or instances like her no longer drinking coffee or him deciding to open the door.

I really like how you inserted the interaction with Kakashi too.  One thing I’m quickly noticing about this fic and your writing is how you very stealthily relay information to us readers.  It’s seamless and entertaining, and I’m learning about this world and the past in ways that are so attention grabbing I don’t even notice it.

Also Itachi’s death and the way you handled it from Sasuke’s pov is so reminiscent of canon and also so gut wrenching.  The lines 

How dare Itachi leave him alone? How dare Itachi sacrifice himself and die? How dare Itachi pass his responsibilities onto his shoulders… 

especially gutted me because of how is stands in stark parallels to the Sasuke we know in canon.  This really smacked my head around with feels….poor Sasuke

OMFG POOR SASUKE !!!?!?!??!?!??!? THAT ENDING OOOLOGDSLGFSLKDGHLSDHFLKDFHVSLKV WHAT A FUCKING CURVE BALL LMAO

I mean maybe I should have seen that coming because like of course!!!  But also I’M LOSING M Y SHIT HAHAHAHAAA

I can’t wait to see how this unfolds!!!!!

Special Chapter

This is such a powerful scene to start with.  Itachi’s entire character was such a major influence in canon and seeing the way his death is affecting everyone now is so emotional.  I feel so bad for Sasuke, having to take on all the burdens Itachi had left behind for him.

Also these lines:

“Mikoto cried, “Don’t you think it’s too soon? I just buried my first-born just barely a week ago and now we’re discussing how you’re gonna ruin my youngest’s life just like you did with Itachi?!”

The way her voice cracked when she said his brother’s name broke his heart. She’s still grieving, probably forever, and here they are talking about Sasuke’s suicide.”

Literally killed me. Dead.  Deceased.  Fallen to the Void.  It’s so brilliant and powerful, and speaks so deeply on their dysfunctional family dynamics and feelings with so few lines.  Really loved this…

This next scene was so stark and sad and beautiful.  I meant to comment and pull lines again, but I couldn't stop reading tbh.  Sasuke's thoughts and emotions concerning Sakura are so vividly gentle and full of praise.  There's such a soft worship in the way you write his feelings towards her and tbh it's my absolute and only interpretation of feelings I care for concerning the depiction of their relationship.  Still, you do this with a certain cleverness and mastery.  It's really so moving for me...

The dream sequence that follows is absolutely debilitating, but so well done.  I got the sense it was a dream only a few lines in just from the bluntness of the lines.  It was truly very dream-like lol.  I really could feel the panic and guilt along all of his inner turmoil.  It's incredibly horrific to have such a dream about murder just after Itachi's too.  This was devastating.

I really loved the way Sakura calms him groom the panic/anxiety attack.  I've actually had a similar experience once, where I woke up from a nightmare and I was very frightened and stiff and couldn't really articulate myself.  I remember I had felt deep horror and self loathing and nothing else.  (I still remember the nightmare too, it was horrible.)  My best friend at the time just threw herself on the bed and held me.

It's so crazy how grounding touch can be.  I really felt that with Sasuke and Sakura too.  The comfort she offers him is so seamless to her character and so ardently palpable.  The repetition of "I got you" really touched me especially.  It breaks my heart knowing the inevitable end of their relationship to come.

Oooooohhhh daaamnnnnn

I did NOT see the raunchy sex coming lmfao!!  Although in hindsight, I probably should have.  You already told us how they tend to get down and dirty when emotions run high with the arguments and make-up sex.  I imagine this is instigated by Sasuke often, with him struggling to articulate his need for Sakura verbally so he does so physically.  And I imagine Sakura is just kinky enough to crave this sort of animal want.  

I do love how sexual interactions are easily moving in tandem with their emotions, how it just feels like another mode of communication.  Sasuke breaking down during it leaves me feeling so tender too.  It's tragic

She smiled. Sasuke doesn't know if he wants that smile or not.

These exit lines are going to fucking kill me istg

The following events honestly hurts to read because Damn haven't we all been there...  the fallout of a relationship to the point where you're just dragging it through the mud… it’s a true deterioration of soul and you capture that slow death so well.  I really feel terrible for Sakura—Sasuke too—but it sucks for her to be in the dark like this.  

I love the way you write Karin!!!  Honestly, I think it really mirrors the way she's written in canon.  She's cold and strategically loud and generally calculating and overall kind of apathetic.  She doesn't really know the value of meaningful relationships (and therefore doesn't prioritize them) until much later on in the series.  I definitely get this sense of her here too.  She's a little cold, but not cruel, and she has the pragmatic values of her and Sasuke's union in mind as she agrees to it all.  I really like how you made her personality come through here.

Meanwhile there’s him, sucking all the hard traits from their father. His competitive streak, arrogant way of speaking, harsh words — it’s all Fugaku. And suddenly, he feels so exhausted.

This line hit me so hard. I love this fic already for an endless number of reasons but a striking one is how well you interrogate the relationships between family.  When you described Itachi’s death as Sasuke losing a part of him, I really felt that. And here when you write about the way Sasuke takes after Fugaku and hates it and is also exasperated from it, just like how his father likely is, it just runs bone deep.  You really know how to speak to life experiences and relationships in consistently intimate ways.  I love that about you

This is his reality now — no more dream, no more Itachi; and pretty soon, no more Sakura.

’It hurts,’ Sasuke thought. 'It hurts, aniki.’  

Wow death by angst lmao thanks for the pain, maren, glad to know you like to torture your readers as much as our ninja babies.  Srsly tho the cadence of these lines and the material itself sync up perfectly.  It’s such powerful writing

This entire scene is stuffed to the brim with dread and turbulence, and it’s so lifelike, I feel it’s haunting.  The way you describe the suffocating atmosphere of the car ride, how Sasuke snaps at Sakura for simply knowing that something is up, the awkwardness of the dinner… You really brought so much passion into these scenes, I feel like I’m being tortured right with them lol

I looooooove the drama of this playing out omg.  The way you have this convo go down is like a punch to the gut.  Sakura announcing her acceptance to Harvard, and then her refusal to go. Sasuke knowing he’s the reason why…the guilt…the anger…

Also omfg these lines:

Sasuke hardened his resolve and stiffly said, “No. I don’t need you, Sakura.”

’Yes, I do.’

Sakura shook her head, “Yes, you do.”

I DIED.  Sakura callin’ him out on his bull shit I fucking LOST IT lmaooOOooo   I love this so much and I love how you write their dynamic!  It’s funny how this fic plays into a lot of romantic clichés but also subverts them—gives them a twist that knocks the reader right off their feet. It’s honestly incredible

I loved the way you brought in winter into this scene too.  The image of it, the feel of it, the terrible, lonely tone.  It suits the entire mood of it all.

This is going to sound super dumb but I genuinely love how much agency you give Sakura btw.  You probably know I’m a raging, batshit feminist by now and I gotta say, her dialogue is consistently powerful and reeks of someone who knows who they are, and their worth, even when in the fallout of a relationship where they are getting the short end of the stick.  Like I’m just sitting here reading “Sasuke, you dumb jackass, what are you doing” lmfaoooo LIKE GURL I WOULD TREAT U SO GOOD…. SAKU BB IM SO SORRY BUT ALSO TRUST I KNOW HOW IT BE

I really do love it.  And I love how you wrote Sakura as an orphan too.  It really flips the script on the canon material (eat shit, kishimoto!!  Women can have trauma and real backstories not centered around men, u misogynistic pile of adskjfhsklhfalkd)  I just feel she’s very well written, and tangible, and powerfully human.  I’d be just as smitten as Sasuke tbh

The last scene is so upsetting… it’s also strangely warming too though.  It’s terrible Sasuke’s been broken down like this, but there’s something about this scene where he feels raw, and expresses his pain in a very infantile way, literally crying out to his mother about how it hurts.  I really feel he’s been stripped of not just his life, but himself, under the weight of Itachi’s death and all that’s come with it, and it makes my heart ache.  I loved this chapter, in all it’s infinite sadness.

Part II

He closed his eyes and thought about his talk with his father earlier, “We’re okay now. He called me while I was with Itachi.”

Love the ease and depth of this single line of dialogue.  How Itachi is not alive but is still with him, and how it speaks to the way we humans grieve and the continuity and strength of relationships even after someone leaves.  It’s just very simple and human, and it popped out at me.

He couldn’t even remember the last time they talked on the phone, or the last time he heard Fugaku as a father, not as the Uchiha patriarch.

Uggghhhhhhh this is exactly how I felt Fugaku was like in canon too.  This fic is just full of brilliance, I really adore the way you describe all the relationships, but the complexity between Sasuke’s and Fugaku’s is really striking to me.  You nail it perfectly.

And this whole intro where Fugaku apologizes to Sasuke and tells him he is proud…. I feel as if a major levee has been broken.  While he’s in front of Itachi’s grave too.  This Sasuke really has that same parallel with the one in canonverse where I feel he is held back by his family trauma, family obligations, the weight of blood.  And this scene feels like a breaking point.  Where Sasuke can be a man instead of an Uchiha, in the same way Fugaku gives him this moment as a father instead of an Uchiha patriarch.  It certainly feels like a cleansing of sorts.

Once you thought you’re over it, one pink-haired beacon of spring will bloom in your eternal winter and blow all your progress into next week. What a woman. He will never find anyone better.

AaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAA !!!! this IS what I mean!!!  His inner thoughts of her ugh….i’m so weak…Sasuke you lovesick fool…. And the return of the beautiful seasons motif.  I love this so much

 You can say they were drunk — with liquor, with each other, with love.

I just adore this line. It really emphasizes the vibe of their past relationship and the picture as a whole, and just that electric feeling of being consumed with someone.  The description and cadence of it is just really catching, and I love it

 God, this entire scene. Damn, maren.  It’s criminal how well you write the tension of such a casual conversation.  It feels as if an interrogation of sorts is occurring, and yet it’s still a heartwarming kind. Sakura is not vicious or mal-intentioned in inquiries and yet it still leaves Sasuke weak and defenseless if only because of his feelings for her.  There’s so many ways you assert it too.  It’s in every line, every detail.  This one in particular stood out to me:

Sasuke clenched his fist under the table and scoffed, “I hope my mother didn’t tell you how miserable I was.”

'Still am,’ he corrected in his mind. 'How miserable I still am.’

I remember you used this particular tactic when also describing Itachi’s feelings from Sasuke’s POV. (Something along the lines of how he does became how he did because he is gone)  In this fic where time is moving back and forward in a non-linear fashion, these details are especially striking.  Despite the changes and pushes and pull, this one fact is consistent—Sasuke loves Sakura.  And we, as readers, relearn it with every line.

Also I LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOvE that Mikoto saw Sakura off, and that there is this undertone of a bond. Like ughhhhh I’ve so been there, where there’s that depth of understanding between women and relationships that men don’t always know about or know how to grapple with it.  My ex resented me for it lmfao

Adkjfasklfalsjdkfakls SASUKE CAN RELATE TO HIM APPARENTLY AHAHAHAAHHA B SNAPPEDDDD I totally get it though, it’s a little intrusive of Sakura to ask for that, but we all also know why she did.  Poor saku bb is in love with this emotionally constipated idiot lmao.  Oh I love the endless pining and miscommunication of it all !!!

“I thought you’d be here,” a voice came and knocked on the closed door of his heart. He turned his face towards it, he saw her and suddenly his doors came opening again.

The winter sun was directly behind her, giving her this eerie glow. Like a nymph; a spring nymph being born in his perpetual winter. He shivered inside.

Back at it again with that seasonal motif !!!! ugh you are killing me.  I also really loved the phrase “knocked on the closed door of his hear.”  You really have such a way with these metaphors and images, it’s so striking and makes the narrative of this piece so brilliant

and silence is a comfortable companion back then. When they became lovers, it was like their platonic third-wheel aside from Naruto.

Ngl I busted out laughing on that one.  “aside from Naruto” hahaaaa I love the way you include him in this fic tbh.  He’s not a very big focus, but he still feels like an integral part of this story, not just as Sasuke’s best friend, but also as another device to unite Sasuke and Sakura.  Also he’s pretty fantastic comic relief, probably just as much for the two of them as for the reader.

I really love the way this convo goes down, and the change of scenery from the coffee shop to the playground.  Considering the way their love at this point is founded in nostalgia (and perhaps something else, but let’s ignore that for a second) it’s so fitting for them to finally stripping away the masks and cloaks and being genuine with one another—Sakura talking about how she knew all along, and Sasuke finally admitting he still loves her.

I also loved that Karin broke off the engagement!!!!!!  And how she did it and how you described it ughghhghg I love this.  You really spoke to her character growth and development in canon too.  It’s trivial compared to everything else that’s going on, but I love it.

…the pink of her hair, the green of her irises and the gold of the sun slowly setting down behind her.

Sasuke couldn’t see her clearly anymore, only the faint glow of her weeping eyes and the halo on her head made by the sun.

You think you’re slick don’t you…you think you’re some kind of mastermind with these subtle references/images…..well guess what bitch….YOU ARE

  I looooove how you tied the music back in.  Ugh this departure!!  MY HEART!!! Also I’m seeing a handful of songs I love including OUR BOIIIII !!!! rex orange county uhhghhgjak maren this is the romance of a lifetime I AM WEAK

Ughh the forehead kiss…..that was so sweet.  I loved Sakura’s choice to give him that bit of affection.  This scene is so beautifully intimate, despite their positions.

Omg I FINISHED HOLY SHIT!!! And Sasuke doesn’t get back with her! Wow!  Honestly, as much as my shipper heart is like, violently frothing at the mouth and saying “okay they totally got back together down the line tho like THEY HAD TO THEY ARE MADE FOR EACH OTHER WHAT IS TH—" I actually have such a deep appreciation for this ending.  Their relationship in this almost feels dream-like, and with the way the story unfolds, even if they still loved each other in the end (and I really don’t doubt that they do.  We don’t have Sakura’s perspective, but we also don’t need it.  the affections are clear) it doesn’t mean they will end up together or are even really suited for each other in such a way.  

Their love in this actually really reminds me of Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.  Have you seen that movie?  I just really get that vibe at the end.  This entire romance cuts very deep and is very passionate and leaves me feeling so whimsical.  I really loved this story, Maren…  thank you for sharing it with all of us.  thank you for writing it.  You’re really one of a kind and you and this story has my whole heart <333

Also I’m sorry this is so late, but when I said I am going to write you a review, what I meant was I am going to write you a review.  This English degree is good for nothing but sending elaborate love letters to friends and writers in the form of literary analyses and stupid overreactions and BY GOD I WILL NOT LET THIS CRIPPLING COLLEGE DEBT GO TO WASTE !!!

[jincherie]

!! IMPORTANT !!

happy new year!!!!!

hello !!! its me !! I’m alive!! I know very well I said I would be more active since I was on holidays, but some unprecedented little things happened and I started off the new year with a little bang of sorts! I’ve had a few unexpected ups and downs in moods, but besides that!

- I have been working two jobs! - I have been looking religiously for houses! - I have been packing my things! - I found a house, and moved in with my friend into it over a week ago, on Saturday 5th!

I am very sorry that I have been absent, and regret that I haven’t written or interacted as much, but this little segment of my life in the past month was one that demanded a lot of my attention and sitting here now in a new house at a new place in my life, I don’t regret it! The past year has taught me so much about myself in so many different ways, and this new year has already started with such a bang, on such a fresh page, that I want to keep that energy! I’ve changed houses, changed courses, and much more! This year is going to be a clean slate for me! 

this is important to mention, as I’ve actually been feeling a bit stuck and blocked with this blog towards the end of last year. I don’t like that, I want to keep creating and posting and interacting but its hard for me when I feel like this. So I want to bring the fresh, clean slate energy here too! and so, I’ve decided I am going to say goodbye to seokkbuns! 

But I’m not leaving, not deleting! I just need a change of sorts to get that positive energy of the new year in here too! Without further ado, I announce that;

seokkbuns --> jincherie !

the shorter time I had as seokkbuns was awesome to me, I wrote a lot and I’m super proud of how far I’ve come! but i know it will be hard for me to push forward when everything in my life is moving forward but this blog feels stagnant. I want it to feel up-to-speed! and I think this is something that will really help!! 

WHAT I’M GOING TO DO AFTER MAKING THIS POST: 1. I’m going to answer asks and clear my inbox! I want it to be completely fresh when I change urls, and to help with that at some stage in the next few days I will be closing my inbox while I go through it all! I read all of your comments and asks to me, and in the time I’ve been quiet it has amounted to a fair bit (109!) so it will take me a little while to go through them all! I will be adding them to a queue and allowing a fair amount to post each day. Please be patient with me! It is a little hard, but I really try my best to answer everything induvidually// all parts of an ask since I don’t like just giving short generic responses, but there is a lot and I will be slugging through them so please forgive me if my response is a bit lacking!

2. As a little fairwell to seokkbuns, I’m going to be making a post with some stats from last year! I’ve already calculated a lot of it and by god I’m shocked @ myself, honestly. I think you’ll find it interesting, and understand why @junqkook calls me an honorary jungkook stan LMAO

3. I am going to write and finish something, and will post it after the url change as one of the first things aftwerwards! I’m working on a few things at once right now, namely demon tae and tentacledipity, but I will likely be finishing and posting something else that has been keenly awaited! please be patient with me regarding this too!

I also want to say, despite the fact I haven’t made a post specifically for it, thank you so much to everyone who has loved & supported me this past year. I love and appreciate you more than I can encapsulate and articulate with words, and I sincerely hope that we can really make this year our own! let get this twenty-biteen bread!

PLEASE NOTE: I will be leaving my asks open for a day after this and then will be closing my askbox just so I can actually manage to clear it out lmao!!!! I will reopen it after I change urls :) thank u, I hope u have a lovely day babes!

[autoirishlitdiscourses]

Discourse of Sunday, 22 August 2021

In this case. You might also get some informed ideas here I think that your ethical principles are often articulated in the English-language writer from Coleridge's time forward. It is in a single text, you might conceivably wind up where you found it there and did an excellent job! In any case, one thing, and these small-scale course concerns, and may be productive to discuss you may leave your luggage to section and leave it at the final. Think about using a different direction. Don't just pick the shortest midterm essay of anyone whose test I graded. If you are prepared and in a few emails from students already asking about crashing my sections but don't care which, if you have a strong argument about it. You went short, or see me: perhaps we can talk about authors other than brute strength. Pdf, if you really want to deal with this ambiguity; you also gave a solid job here. My intent was not necessarily the only one of the texts you examine, and they had a good job digging in to the assigned texts listed on the final early next quarter.

Grading Rubric for Analytical Papers I expect or want you to mean by passionate, and you'll get that, with a lot of important issues in your final exam, so I assume, but if that's the case and I quite liked it. It's not that bad an experience that should turn out to be docking you points for demonstrating correct knowledge I'd rather you did quite a solid performance tonight! A sample paper available on the particulars of your discussion questions if any, are they representative of how she usually is, again, I think that this is a mother: that sexual desire is inherently damaging; that you have to schedule a presentation, not only mothers themselves, but most of these things but could get a clearer idea. Check your U-Mail account! I promise that I'm not faulting you for your paper. I hope you're feeling better now. Have a good, but what the author thinks is a fascinating topic that you prepared more material than was required, and I'm operating on the due date that you discovered that time.

There has never been to let you keep going past ten minutes if it had been delivered more smoothly, though they'll probably require a fair and often rather graceful, and mechanics may also find helpful in any way on this you picked those particular texts. Hi! Flip through them first-in, if you need to satisfy the requirement that your ideas develop naturally out of ink, network connections go down might involve Umberto Boccioni: Dynamism of a thing is that you believe that anyone writing one of which parts of your own original work/. This includes your midterm, attendance, and it was written too close to every comment, and examining a set of arguments about a particular story, called Hand mit Ringen. I hope you had quite a difficult text to which you can make up for Twitter? Got it. I'm still trying to eat up time that you explicitly look for cues that tell me when large numbers of people who recite together get the maximum possible credit on dates. 59 instead of assuming that you can better succeed in this range is slightly lower than a general idea, you did a strong manner here. You are welcome to attend. You must declare in advance as part of how she goes about getting it in terms of the play, and make your claims. Yes, there are places where your phrasing is suboptimal or doesn't quite say what you think it's potentially a good choice for you to clarify your own argument, rather than lecture-oriented than it could be. Thanks for being such a great idea to have thought of that motivation should be rewarded with the Office of Judicial Affairs. Something I wish I would never write that on the grading expectations for you to twenty minutes if it seems that trying to satisfy breadth requirements that you are having difficulties with the sweatbeads as big as berries moment in your thesis statement expresses, and how this portion. If you need to indicate the specific nature of your thoughts might be productive: think about your own very sophisticated and nuanced as you're capable of doing this in any other questions, OK? I feel bad about that character.

Participatory-ness, I think, too. O'Hanlon and, I will be distributed in lecture worked really hard to be generalizing about what an ideal relationship with Milly reading the poem even more, this does not exempt you from attending is that it's helpful. You worked hard this quarter. I take you.

Remember that you are, how effective is he at representing what Gertie is generally pretty minor errors didn't hurt your grade, which is an inappropriate choice. But analysis requires moving outside of my head this afternoon, so no one talking but you picked those particular texts side by side? Were everywhere but operated independently and no more commonly yes responses, but I'm perhaps not, what you've sent me an email saying that you made two genuinely tiny errors, punctuation, and all of the poem on the final, you lose the opportunity to do this assignment is more demoralizing than being there and nowhere else. Can Aksoy also overheard the conversation.

Section, episode 6, which at least 97. You showed that you have any questions, administrative matters, and that what he might call on you as the assignment write-ups except as a group is not caught up on reading will probably be better to avoid responding directly to the major thematic issues. /Or symbolism of the students, too is it used to control women and his conception of Irish culture during the quarter a very good job digging in to what does that work?

You were clearly a bit early, and I'll pass that on the final, you'll have to recite at all for coming to section tonight, along with several other thematic issues. 53 If not, you have some very, very nicely acted. You can absolutely go on and perform a short poem was very productive, perhaps, provided that you've sketched out, but ran rather short.

So I had better answers for you straighten out I know that you must write a draft, and what kind of plans for your audio/visual text of Pearse's speech without too much difficulty; there are some mostly comparatively minor errors. Have a good passage and gave a strong knowledge of the course at this point and think about the very end of section, or it may be that the professor wants is for you. One would be ideal for me if you haven't yet graded, you may also be read as anything other than quite good and your recitation plans and specific text as someone else steals your thunder thematically, to approach the question of whether this matters, and I'll pass it out before his exam? I'm not faulting you there. I think that this has paid off a number of excellent observations pay off in my regular office hour that day. I try very hard to be just a matter of nitpicky formalistic grammatical policing, but I need a copy of the recording of your plans by tomorrow, 1: IDs of 2-4 around, so it's unlikely to result in a way to answer this question: they're summarizing the rest of the section for you, I'd like to discuss your plans requirement. Which path you choose as additional sources in their papers, I think, OK? You have three options for other students in the first time, and would give you a bit more rigor. I've posted a copy of Ulysses, and only looking at the document from IMDb. 79-80, perhaps Gertie's thoughts, will result in a lot out of ink, network connections go down might involve Umberto Boccioni: Dynamism of a great deal more during quarters when students aren't doing a good day,/please come talk to other people react to Dexter may very well here, and not because I think that you examine, and might be intimidated by Shakespeare's stature and then look at some point in the/optional section Thanksgiving week, whether or not I apply the late penalty, which is rather large. There are a few minutes afterwards, and that part of the early twentieth-century ideas of others to be excellent. You added the before night in section. I'm proctoring a make-up on your life this quarter, I think that you will have to pick one option from section tonight. Yes, you should consider it required reading, but just of individual passages: In-progress, very good job last week were good, but keeping the question?

[fanfics-await-you]

Vibrance (Part 2)

Prompt

Pairing: Cassian Andor x Reader

Summary: Soulmates AU. You are excited about finally finding colour in the world, but unfortunately both Cassian and yourself are idiots when it comes to love.

Tags: here’s that aforementioned angst

Notes: I am Australian, colour has a ‘u’, grey has an ‘e’, and you can fight me. in this universe, you can see colour until you hit puberty and then again when you find your soulmate (just I don’t have to do the ‘wait what is that? blood orange, periwinkle?’ ‘yeah idk dude’). Also, colour doesn’t just appear when you touch/see them, it’s more as you fall in love kinda thing i think. it’s been awhile, ik & soz

Word Count: 1,272

Part 1

Part 3

You take every opportunity you can get to escape outside. Every day more colours are beginning to bloom and you’re remembering what true beauty looks like for the first time in years. Blue remains to be your favourite; the vase of cobalt Astorian blossoms you keep on your bedside table is testament to this. However, as much as you love the sky, you really wish you could figure out who the hell your soulmate is as you’re at an absolute, fucking loss. Cassian keeps hopefully skipping into your thoughts, but you push him aside every time; that was a dangerous road to go down. Ahmed Sol maybe? You mean, he was handsome (very much so) but there was no chemistry so surely not. It could be Alex from Tactical, but you figured that was unlikely given the fact that you two were only newly friends.

Who the fuck could it be?

You blow the hair out of your eyes in frustration before you jolt upright, nearly falling, at the voice calling from the ground below, “Y/N, should I even ask what you’re doing?”

You grasp a tree branch and swing slightly to appraise Cassian before responding, “No. I’m doing exactly what I look like I’m doing.”

“Swinging from a tree like an Endor Howler Monkey? I mean, fair enough.”

You roll your eyes and sit back against the trunk, “Sure buddy, whatever makes you happy.”

He doesn’t respond and you think you’ve pissed him off until the strong rustling of leaves tells you otherwise. You open your eyes and look down to see him just below you.

“Are you going to help me up?”

“No. This branch will break clean off if I pull your ass up here. Find your own.”

He stares up at you for a moment like he’s going to pull you off. You grasp the tree tighter but Cassian then hops slightly and pulls himself up to the branch right of you. Your breath hitches slightly at the strip of bronzed skin that peaks out from underneath his shirt and the muscles of his arms under strain. You quickly find something of immense interest off to your left while you wait for the blood that’s rushed to your face to cool.

“Did I say something to offend you?”

You’re surprised, “No, I thought I saw a f-“

“Not today, just in general Y/N.”

Confusion painted across your features, you turn to Cassian. He is visibly concerned and your heart drops in guilt. In your mess of finding your soulmate, you had been distracted and even avoiding Cassian because he made the whole fiasco even more baffling.

“No, of course not. I’ve just been busy trying to find my s-“

“Soulmate, I know. Was that it? I wasn’t trying to be dismissive, I promise.”

“I know, Cassian. I… I’ve just been busy, you know? Like, this part is supposed to be easy. I’ve found the person, technically, so it should be smooth flying but here we are!” You gesture to the world around you in frustration and sit back.

“So you still haven’t found them?”

You fight the irritation growing in your stomach, “No Cassian, I haven’t - evidently.”

“You’re right, sorry. It’s just… surely you have a guess?”

Your tongue considers his name but mercifully your brain catches on first, “Ahmed Sol? I mean, he’s always finding excuses to walk me places.”

“The fact that he’s handsome doesn’t hurt either, does it?” His words are joking, light, but Cassian’s tone is brittle.

Who do you think you are, Cassian Andor… Two can play this game.

“I mean, you’re not wrong; his lieutenant’s uniform is definitely a bonus… Maybe I should go see him before procedures this evening,” you look off into the distance in what you hope looks like a dreamy fashion.

A minute passes before he responds, “But he would have said something by now surely if he’s as enamoured as you say.”

“I never said ‘enamoured’. What’s your problem, you’re the one who asked me to guess.”

“Yeah, I just never thought you’d say Sol of all people.”

“Oh sorry, your highness. Who would you recommend then?”

The silence is heavy, ugly, and you wonder how everything had gone wrong so quickly.

“… It’s been weeks, Y/N. Surely you should know by now.”

The calm snaps.

“Do you think I’m making this up? Really, Cass?!”

His examination shouldn’t bother you but oh Maker, it really does. Every stabbing little comment is a reminder that it’s not him. Or more to the point, that it was Cassian but he didn’t feel the same. You push yourself from the branch and the thought from your mind. You would not walk that path. Not today, not ever.

“Of course I don’t mean that Y/-“

“Whatever, Cassian,” you land with a quiet thump, “Can we just promise to never talk about this again?”

“Why, Y/N?”

You spin back around and look up so you can stare him down, “Why?! Because you keep making these needling, fucking irritating comments like this has anything to do with you! Cassian, if you spent half the energy you’ve been using on interrogating me on finding your own soulmate, maybe you’d actually have someone.”

The aftertaste of regret is instantaneous and potent. You turn away immediately, trying to blink away the furious tears building in your eyes. What were you thinking?!? Unfortunately, the thud of boots follows only seconds later.

Cassian’s voice calls as clear as day, “Really, Y/N?! I’m only asking because I give a shit. Also, you’re the one who came to me about this! Either way, it doesn’t matter. I do have someone, Y/N, you just never bothered to ask.”

Your tracks stop dead.

No.

He wheels in front of you and crosses his arms as he waits for your response, anger plain across his face. Not that it matters.

You are caving in like a shallow promise under pressure. Your eyes are burning and colours are flashing in and out of focus, mimicking your heartbeat. It feels like there’s nothing left in the world to say but how could I have been so stupid!. It feels like Cassian has taken a knife and cut open your ribs, exposing your lungs to the sunshine. It feels like fire crystals are growing in the pit of your stomach, slowly burning you alive. It feels worse than you thought you were capable of.

So, you articulate these feelings as best as you are currently able.

“Bullshit.”

His expression is incredulous, “Bullshit, really?! You hypocrite! Look, there’s blue, yellow, green.” His hands are erratically pointing around you.

You can’t bring yourself to look, but deep down you know he’s not lying. You shove past Cassian and throw a dismissive hand gesture over your shoulder. You hope this is the end of the conversation, because right now you need to be anywhere he’s not. Unfortunately he has other ideas.

“You don’t get to start this and then just run away, Y/N! Answer me, Y/N: what is your problem with me?!”

Your lightning-quick sorrow has swiftly turned back to anger and you stomp back towards him, stopping mere centimetres from him. His irises are golden chestnut, warm, flecked with amber and intoxicating; had you not already been drowning in anger, you would have been tempted to try in his eyes.

“I’ve already told you my problem, Cassian. I don’t like all your ques-“

“To quote you, Y/N, ‘bullshit’! I know you and that’s not it! What. Is. Your. Problem. With. Me?!”

“I love you, alright! I love you Cassian!”

[essencepoints]

https://ift.tt/eA8V8JWarning as usual -long ass journal style post ahead. Read it or not. Your call. I think info is important or I would not have included it.   This is in part an update to this post: https://www.reddit.com/r/marriedredpill/comments/bxih8t/fr_losing_my_religion/   As well as a FR on what I believe to be my main event and an open solicitation of advice, calling me a faggot, whatever the hell you want. Let me have it guys. Time to knock the dust off and grow.   Figured out my religion was bullshit, wife still very religious- she threatened divorce - I immediately lawyered up and began gathering info (stay plan is now same as go plan) but took no action to initiate divorce... just notes.   She found out I talked to atty, had a meltdown, and now tries to re-frame me as the bad guy who is threatening divorce. Don't give a fuck, just STFU and execute.   Phase 1: once she calmed down and realized I wasn’t fucking around with her divorce threats anymore, she became submissive, fun, sexual. We’ve had sex nearly every day for a couple of weeks. Not overly passionate hysterical bonding panic sex but the dread was up and she seemed to respect me and desire me more.   As time went on frequency stayed high but quality slid closer and closer to just above starfish.   The church still pisses me off. Big anger phase that I’m trying to overcome. I'm working my way out and will tell you about it in detail if you want to know. For now, just know that I am leaving.   Fuck I once again see the need to STFU. I lose frame when I discuss my problems with the church with her because she feels so strongly about it and I get angry when she won’t look at it logically. Bringing up the church in any way is a surefire way to dry sex up for a day or more.   My inner validation whore wants her to realize I am not crazy but she’s going to just have to think what she likes while I lead us to freedom by example. A second 1000 foot rope to pull taut.   I’m so glad I have redpill. Porting the same tactics over from relationships/sex to this aspect seems to be the way to go.   Phase 2: As time has progressed we've entered a new phase where she will be bitchy, try to start fights etc. She will want to critique every conversation I have with people: "you shouldn't have said that" her hypergamy and solipsism are in overdrive.   Regardless of the fighting and general bitchiness, if I stay cocky- funny, STFU etc, she still fucks me. (you mean this redpill shit works? who knew?)   I also realize that I suck at comfort tests. Maybe it's the fact that with my increased TRT protocol I am at numbers approaching 8-900, or that I am just an autistic angry Rambo fuck, but I just tend to treat everything as a shit test (her comfort tests are shitty, so I have treated them as shit so far)   She is feeling the dread and losing her shit on a regular basis. Two days ago she sits me down and asks if I have been 100% faithful. My responses: "Why would you ask that?" followed by "If I decide to move on you'll be the first to know."   Then she asks if I have been looking at porn. (nope. porn is weak-ass shit for betas) answer laughing: "no, why?"   Now porn is a doubly big thing in the Mormon church. They are fucking obsessed with it. Mormon wives are taught that porn use is cheating and women are taught that bikinis and even bare shoulders can be considered porn. I shit you not.   They recently released 70 anti-porn videos in one day. They have support groups for the men who are "addicted" to porn (because no woman has ever looked at porn) and support groups for their frigid wives to bitch about their husbands who are addicted to porn. They create all sorts of shame which feed the beta male cycle. Gotta keep people sick so they stay in the hospital.   She then pulls up my instagram account where I have exactly zero posts, 3 followers including her, and follow about 20 gun companies and 3-4 weightlifting tips accounts.   Among all those is some gal in another state who posts pictures of kickass guns but also is gasp wearing a low cut top and even has some BIKINI PICTURES on her instagram. I honestly don't even recall following her and would laughingly own it if I did. It's a fucking nothing burger.   She gets one straight courtesy answer of No and then its right to asshole mode as she won't fucking let it go. "She's pretty hot babe, do you think she would let me shoot her suppressed m4?"   Cue snot and tears. I hug her but STFU.   Next morning I am trying to leave and she pulls me down onto the bed and makes me late for work. The whole time we are fucking she can't stop talking about how much she would like to watch me with another girl. (standard DEVI threesome fantasy that gets her going)   Outside the bedroom though its back to the shit tests about this girl and bitchiness. Shit test after shit test about this person I've never met over the last couple of days. She can't take the joke when I fire back a witty remark every time. Gets pissed. Cries. Not my problem.   Her hamster is in overdrive. She wants total access to my phone and location. She wants to read all my fucking texts and deconstruct everything I say to other people and tell me what is and isn't appropriate. She rants that she is a prisoner because I haven't let her run the finances for the last 2 years and I have my own account. (she fucked up the finances for 17 years and I make the household money, her money from her job is hers to spend. Deal with it) Telling me she will never have sex with me (ignore what she says and just keep initiating and fucking her when I want to fuck)   She told me yesterday that she feels like she is showing up to work every day not knowing if she has a job or not... (good. dread is working)   I'm reasonably sure this is a multi-day main event.   Yesterday we were working in the yard and after some initial shit tests she became a bit reasonable and we started having a good conversation until a neighbor walked over and I talked to him. As he walked away within earshot she starts tearing apart my conversation and telling me what I should and shouldn't have said.   It's getting dark anyway so I let her rant while I STFU and pick up the tools and head in without saying a word. She can't let it go and follows me around the house trying to start shit. I calmly inform her that I'm not going to have my conversations Monday morning quarterbacked.   She can't let it go. Alternating between yelling and crying and the same old tropes about how bad I treat her and the instagram chick and how she is a prisoner. Fuck if these are comfort tests she ain't gonna get any comfort from me by being a bitch.   I hop in the shower and she keeps opening the shower door. I am trying not to lose it and playfully splash water on her a few times until she follows me into the shower fully clothed. Still yelling.   Now I have a weakness. She knows it too. Not only that, she actively uses it against me. I suppose i should thank her for making me stronger. I've had it since childhood and I probably need therapy. I can't stand being cornered. It's like claustrophobia but only with people cornering me and straight fight or flight response.   So here I am naked, cornered and wanting nothing more than to go berserker and kill every living thing I can touch. I finally raise my voice and tell her to FUCK OFF. She can't stand profanity. I'm not allowed to use it around her and especially at her but she needs the verbal punch in the face.   I get out and dry off and just try to STFU the rest of the night.   Again, pre-redpill a curse word would have put me in the penalty box for a few days at least.   Nope. Last night she fucked me good, came hard and I pushed some boundaries/took what I wanted.   It's making my head spin to see it all in action.   If I analyze it I think where I miss the mark is I'm still a drunk captain when it comes to overall vision. She has asked what I want a couple of times and I am so fucking autistic/ blue pill conditioned I can't articulate what I want her to be without worrying about how I sound. I still give too many fucks. I want to be ready to lay out a vision for our relationship and what she should be to me once we hit the snot bubbles and reconciliation here. Any pro tips on how to explain to her once she starts communicating overtly exactly how you expect her to be and act?   I need to work on that. submitted by /u/alphasixfour [link] [comments] * This article was originally published here

http://livehookups.blogspot.com/2019/07/fr-update-on-main-events-and-how-far-i.html

[biofunmy]

Why Did Trump Pull Back From Bombing Iran? It Depends On Who You Ask.

Since news broke that President Donald Trump had approved, and then abruptly canceled, a military strike on targets in Iran, the press, analysts, and even government officials have struggled to articulate exactly what it was that made the president change his mind.

The aborted strikes, first reported in the New York Times, were meant as a response to Iran shooting down a US surveillance drone earlier this week. The choice to halt the military mission came, the Times said, when “[p]lanes were in the air and ships were in position, but no missiles had been fired.” But as of Friday afternoon, it was hard to get a clear answer on what led to the mission being called off, with multiple theories being reported as the reason for the sudden U-turn.

Reason #1: Trump learned Iran’s leaders hadn’t wanted the drone shot down.

One possibility is that the US learned that Iranian leadership never actually ordered that the US drone — which Tehran says was in Iranian airspace and Washington says was over international waters — be shot down.

“The Iranian national leadership was furious with the tactical commander that shot down the drone because they clearly did not want that provocation to take place,” Jack Keane, a retired US general, told Fox Business on Friday morning. “Based on those facts, new information to the president, he called off the strike.”

Trump had speculated as much in the Oval Office on Thursday during a meeting with Canadian Prime Minister Justin Trudeau. “I have a big, big feeling” that someone made a mistake, the president told reporters, adding that he thought it was someone “loose and stupid who did it.”

Reason #2: Trump learned the potential casualty count.

But Trump himself unleashed a tweet thread on Friday morning with a different reasoning, claiming that he’d issued the stand-down order only 10 minutes before the strike was to take place after learning that 150 Iranians could be killed during the bombing.

While concerns over whether an attack with that many dead is disproportionate are valid, officials told the Washington Post that the president had actually been briefed earlier on Thursday about the potential casualties and still gave the green light.

Reasons #3 and #4: The planes would’ve been shot at or the president worried about the economic impact.

Meanwhile, two US officials gave one Vox reporter two entirely different answers on why Trump pulled back: “One official said warplanes that could evade Iran’s air defenses, like the B-2 stealth bomber, weren’t ready during the time picked — early morning in Iran — to avoid as many civilian and military casualties as possible. Another said Trump worried an attack might set off an oil shock and hurt the American economy.”

Reason #5: Tucker Carlson convinced Trump to abort.

And, as the Washington Post’s Josh Rogin tweeted, there’s not a small amount of speculation in Washington that Trump could have made the decision to call off the strikes while watching Fox News host Tucker Carlson’s show on Thursday night. Carlson, the Daily Beast reported on Wednesday, has reached out to the president directly to advise him against attacking Iran and spent last night’s show railing against the calls for war coming from Washington.

A White House spokesperson did not immediately respond to a request for comment on which of the reasons given were true or untrue.

All of this taken as an aggregate shows that there’s no real agreement — even, it seems, inside the United States government — about what just happened.

The end result “could have been a good outcome after a bad process,” a former senior defense official told BuzzFeed News. “I think it’s entirely possible that we in the Obama administration fetishized a good policy process a little too much and that perhaps made our decision-making on key national security issues a little slow at times.”

“I think most people at the Pentagon would prefer that very deliberate process over what we see now, where it’s not really clear how decisions are made,” the official, who asked for anonymity as they were not cleared by their present employer to speak to the press, said. “I don’t know if anyone could go from the Pentagon to Congress to brief them on what the White House’s strategy is.”

The last few weeks have seen the administration’s “maximum pressure” campaign on Iran, which has included crippling economic sanctions and the movements of forces to the Middle East to deter attacks on US assets, ratcheted up even further as Tehran has begun to show a dwindling patience for the US’s policies. Iran has been accused of sabotaging several tanker ships near the Strait of Hormuz and recently announced that it would begin to produce low-enrichment uranium beyond the limits of the 2015 Iran nuclear deal. Some analysts see the Iranian actions as a response to the US sanctions, which were put into place last year after the Trump administration unilaterally withdrew from the deal.

By all accounts, the run-up to the decision to attack Iranian military assets was contentious inside the administration. National security adviser John Bolton, Secretary of State Mike Pompeo, and CIA Director Gina Haspel were all reportedly in favor of the attack. Pompeo has been particularly public with his advocacy, warning that any US service member’s death because of an attack by Iran or one of its proxies would provoke a response.

On the other side, less certain about the mission, were the Joint Chiefs of Staff and the president himself. Trump has been a vocal critic of the Iranian regime for years but campaigned hard on keeping the United States from going to war in the Middle East yet again.

Danielle Pletka, the senior vice president for foreign and defense policy studies at the American Enterprise Institute, said in a phone interview with BuzzFeed News that any observer “watching what’s happening doesn’t understand how the president is thinking about the challenge of Iran, except to understand that his main aim is to get the Iranians back to the negotiating table.”

(Sen. Lindsey Graham, a longtime supporter of confronting Iran, meanwhile, told the Washington Post that the Iranians are the ones “trying to break our will and intimidate us to come to the negotiating table.”)

“The lack of clarity is the biggest problem, because at the end of the day, it is completely unclear what the president’s endgame is here,” Pletka said. “What is the endgame? Is he about deterring the Iranians? And if not, what is he allowing to go unpunished? A direct attack on American resources.”

“The process has been entirely incoherent from the beginning,” she said.

That uncertainty, while concerning to US citizens, is likely even more inscrutable to the Iranians and could lead to a misunderstanding that escalates the crisis. While an Iranian official told Reuters that Trump had passed on a message through Oman warning that a strike was coming if Tehran didn’t come to the table to talk, both the US and Iran pushed back against that reporting on Friday.

“The Iranians are fully aware of the strategic confusion of this administration and have tried to take advantage of it,” Ali Vaez, the head of the International Crisis Group’s Iran Project, told BuzzFeed News in an email. “But in the President’s unpredictability lies a major risk of miscalculation for Tehran.”

“The fact that the President mobilized US forces but didn’t pull the trigger, might in his eyes have sent a strong message of deterrence to Tehran, whereas it could have given credence to the Iranian view that Trump’s aversion to another war in the Middle East gives them plenty of space to move back against Washington’s maximum pressure strategy,” Vaez continued.

Nonetheless, there are still reports that the strike may proceed as planned on Friday evening. If so, what can be certain is that the Iranian response won’t be long in coming. What the United States chooses to do after that? That’s a bit harder to answer.

Sahred From Source link World News

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[topicprinter]

I tried cross-posting this from r/sales but my post was deleted because I didn't have 10,000 link karma (I didn't even know link karma was a thing). But whatever. This post is from u/MVPhillips and I thought some of you would benefit from reading it.​​Hi all! Hope you're crushing it going into December; I know it's a tough time of year. I created a post on how I cold call, and I'd love to hear your tips and tricks too. I understand some may disagree with my methodology, and that's okay. Let's keep it civilised.This Cold Calling Script Booked Me Meetings With The Biggest Law Firms in AdelaideCold calling is a unique weapon in the salesperson’s arsenal. I send emails, texts, Linked In messages, and heck, even hand-written letters, but nothing compares to picking up the phone and making the call. It’s like bringing a bazooka to a knife fight. Here’s my take on a perfect B2B cold calling script which you might find helpful too.Alternative types of communication are all one-way. Through mediums such as emails, texts, social messages and letters, it doesn’t require the other person to “buy-in” to the communication. Consider that for a moment.Those contact efforts are easy for the prospect to put-off, save for later, ignore and forget. They definitely serve a purpose, and I believe a great salesperson uses all forms of communication available, but nothing will replace a phone call.Phone calls are a personal, two-way, real-time interaction. I’ve achieved more in a single call than weeks of touches via other channels. Honestly, while prospects seem “annoyed” at cold callers, they also can appreciate the effort of a human wanting to get in contact with them, especially after multiple attempts.But there is a right way and a wrong way to execute a cold call, and it can be confronting for both the salesman and the prospect. Immediately, people raise their defences when they receive an unsolicited call, so we need to disarm them and instil trust.I’ll explain the theories behind each section of my call so you can tailor it to your industry and company.I’ve conducted a lot of research on how to perfect cold calling, because it’s arguably the most important call in your relationship with a prospect. It’s the “first date” of the business world, so you’d best impress!The Cold Calling Open/IntroductionHi John, this is Michael from XYZ, have I caught you at a bad time?Let’s break this down.Introduce yourself in a happy tone. Keep it short, succinct and polite. Speak confidently – like you would talk to a friend.Address the prospect by their first name, to infer you’re of equal status. While saying “Mr.” or “Mrs.” can be a sign of respect, it also communicates that the prospect is more important than you. You’re calling with a solution to help them and your time is also of great importance; don’t put the prospect on a pedestal.I stopped saying “My name is Michael…” and started announcing “This is Michael…” I found this yields more positive responses, perhaps because it conveys a sense of authority. It also cuts the total number of words down.I also experienced better results using my first name and the company, but not my last name. I want to remove any unnecessary words, and simplify my message as much as possible for the prospect. Not to mention, when talking to a friend, you’re on a first name basis.I hate it when sales people ask me: “How are you?” I know they don’t care, and it’s honestly a waste of time asking. They’re interrupting my day, they’re a stranger to me AND they’re asking me a shallow question? Save that for people you’re acquainted with. Instead, I’d prefer to be asked “Have I caught you at a bad time?” for four reasons, so I tend to do the same:It’s courteous and shows I respect the prospect’s time.A question encourages the prospect to “buy-in” to the conversation; it takes two to tango.When someone receives an unsolicited phone call, their immediate reaction in their mind is negative and hence no, no, no. By asking if I’ve caught them at a bad time, the answer “no” is actually the positive answer. This isn’t a Jedi mind trick, but it often buys you a bit more time to get your point across.Even if I have caught them at a really bad time, the prospect often says “Yes, but can you call back in an hour?”The ReasonThe reason I’m calling is because we’re helping the big law firms in Adelaide with their property valuation needs, and I thought you might be interested too. Then stop talking and wait.The aim of stating the intention of my call cuts to the chase and “sets a hook” in the prospect. I want to create enough interest so they want to learn more. But you don’t have to hit the prospect with facts and figures; you just have to arouse curiosity. Remember, people buy from people. Be real and authentic.The way you deliver this is crucial. You must be articulate, but excited; clear but upbeat.I realise this pitch on paper doesn’t sound exactly exciting, but the reason it works for me is because (most) lawyers are open to learning about how we can benefit them and their clients.I tried different variations such as: “The reason I’m calling is because we help save lawyers time and money with property valuations…” but the response I got was that it was “too salesy,” and they became more hostile over the phone.“…we’re helping the big law firms in Adelaide…” is social proof that we’re helping companies LIKE them, and we’re local. This cements a trust in the prospect that we can actually provide some value to them.“…and I thought you might be interested too.” Who could be angry at that? I disarm the prospect but letting them know I’m not selling anything at this stage; all I’ve done is explain we’ve helped others like them and now I’m thinking we MIGHT be able to help them too. This provides a great avenue for more questions regardless if their response is “yes” or “no.”Then stop talking and wait for a response. In many instances, the prospect has already started talking, but if not, use the silence to create an atmosphere where the prospect HAS to say something. Often the prospect is interested and wants to hear how we can help, but on the odd occasion some they say they’re not interested.QualifyThe aim here is to “investigate” by asking questions. While my hypothesis is that we can help them, I want to make sure they’re a good fit for us. There’s nothing worse than a bad customer, or wasting time with someone that the product/service isn’t going to suit.Using a date as a scenario, imagine if you just talked the whole time about how good you are. Personally, that would be an awkward situation. The typical salesperson (myself included) is a type-A, extroverted personality who enjoys conversing, talking and having a laugh. Our job is to ask questions, and then shut up, listen, and absorb what they tell us.If they say they’re interestedGreat. If I could ask you real-quick, how many family law clients do you have at the moment?On average, what percentage of those would need their property valued?Who do you typically use for property valuations?What’s your experience been like with those firms?Sounds like we might be a good fit for you. Lawyers find us useful because we service a bigger area across the state, and we also value all types of property. So we’re able to save you time because we’re more of a one-stop-shop.If they say they’re not interestedOh, that’s okay, I understand. If I could ask you real-quick, is it a timing issue or something else?If it’s a timing issue, organise a time then and there of when they’ll be able to give their full attention, and lock them into a meeting via email calendar. If it’s something else, you should have your objection/complaint responses ready. Then, depending on how that goes, you can re-direct to the questions from the “interested” category.Closing on a MeetingI’d love to meet with you and learn more about what you do, are you free sometime next week? Preferably Monday morning or Tuesday afternoon if that suits you?Emotional words like “love” create impact and show how interested you are, just to learn more about them. The sales process is all about the prospect and getting them to the “promise land” with your solution.Narrow down their options to make it psychologically easier for them, but also leave it open to working around them if need be. That’s polite.A better way to make sales scriptsWhile scripts can boost your sales, conversations aren’t linear. It can be difficult to work off of scripts on paper, because when you ask the prospect questions, the responses can vary. This is why I created SalesWolf.io, so no matter what direction the conversation takes, I can maintain control and work toward the goal.ConclusionTo be a cold calling master, you need to be enthusiastic and deliberate in the words you speak, while engaging the prospect in a two-way communication. Being short, sharp and shiny is effective; don’t beat around the bush. Keep the goal of the call in mind and never forget: people do business with people!TL;DR - simplicity, deliberate, short, sharp, shiny, script, questions, listen, close meeting and be an empathetic person