#I need to animate the rest but honestly someone used up all their allotted time listening to a certain shanty over and over again

[eldrigeonsss]

it took me an embarrassing amount of time to format this gif because i mixed up all the frames but we dont reaaaaaaaaaaaaaally need to think to hard about that

[hermannsthumb]

possible prompt for a university au: newt is the biology major who maintains all the fish tanks in the physics building at 11pm and hermann is the physics student who likes to wander the halls to think. newt accidentally flings water all over the ground and hermann trips, hijinks ensue.

earlier today I was thinking about how I wrote a college AU fic almost 3 years ago to the date, and how I wanted to do more bc its fun thinking about newt and hermann as dumb college students

----

Newt's not really sure how he ended up with the weirdest work-study job on the planet, but honestly, things could be much, much worse (he could be stuck down in the dining hall, or dealing with confused freshmen in the school bookstore) so he keeps his thoughts on the whole thing to himself. Every Friday at eleven sharp, Newt pulls on his grodiest t-shirt and a pair of long rubber gloves and treks all the way over to the physics department to set to work scrubbing down the fish tanks that line the classroom walls. Why does the physics department have fish tanks? Newt's not really sure about that, either. It's kind of an insane amount of them, too, more than even the marine bio department has. Maybe it's supposed to boost morale or something. Hey, look at these crazy cool tropical fish who get to do nothing but eat and swim in circles, sorry you're stuck inside calculating velocity and shit.

Whatever, Newt's not complaining about that either. Let the physics nerds have their fun. It'll be good for them to branch out a little, realize there's life beyond robotics club meetings.

Also, Newt likes the fish. They're cute. He likes to think they like him, too, because they're very well behaved when he has to scoop them out of their tanks and plop them into smaller fish bowls (the kind goldfish in movies always use). He's going to teach them tricks eventually—he had a beta fish once who would do a little flip when Newt tapped the glass a certain way because he knew he'd get rewarded with dried worms, so Newt knows it's possible. Just imagine, a hundred fish doing flips on command. Newt Geiszler, fish whisperer.

Yeah, maybe the job could be more glamorous. It's really hard to get algae out of the gloves, and he hasn't been allotted the budget for a new pair yet.

"Hey, guys!" he shouts as he pushes in the door to room 214. The fish don't acknowledge him: they just continue swimming in their giant tank. In and out of plastic plants and rock caves. The rock caves were a gift from Newt three months into the job, and so were some of the moss balls—stimulation is important for fish! He wouldn't want to be trapped in a glass box with nothing to do, either. "I bet you missed me. Ready for a clean tank?"

Newt always talks to the fish, even if they don't talk back, because he thinks it's important to build their trust. He'll usually keep a running commentary of his week as he scrubs the tanks, just get everything off his chest that he needs to get off. Stuff he's worried about. Stuff that went well. Stuff that went badly. Therapy's expensive, and Newt's student health insurance can only cover so much, but talking to fish? That's free.

That's also kinda why he does it so late at night and over the weekend. The last thing he wants is an audience. Because, one, talking to fish is admittedly weird, and two, no one wants a glimpse at Newt's psyche like that, probably not even the fish.

The first step in cleaning the tanks is relocation. Newt digs his stereotypical goldfish bowls and an industrial-size mesh wand out of the supply closet, fills the former with some of the special tank salt water, and begins the slow and arduous task of scooping out the fish and depositing them into the bowls. "I had the lamest week," he announces once he's about three clownfish in. "I was working on a group project Saturday—"

Then Newt stops, because he hears footsteps in the hallway just outside the classroom.

Serial killer, Newt's instincts supply helpfully.

No, Newt corrects himself, that's dumb. Why would a serial killer wander into the physics building at eleven o'clock at night? Why would anyone, period? He's probably imagining stuff. Lack of sleep, stress over his upcoming projects, residual embarrassment from his disaster study session Saturday, all of it culminating in Newt thinking there's someone there. No, definitely imagining it. Newt can only even get in this late to the department because his ID swipe card is set up with the right permissions—not even the physics students have the permissions he does to be in this late at night. Well, not unless they clean the kitchenette in the student lounge or something.

Or if Newt left the door unlocked.

More footsteps. Closer now.

Newt's pretty sure he didn't leave the door unlocked, because he thinks it locks automatically behind him, and he would have to literally prop it open for anyone to get in after him. But anything's possible. The door could've caught on a dropped pencil or a paper scrap or other weird shit that physics students leave around, and a serial killer could've noticed and taken the opportunity to sneak inside on the off chance a hapless young biology major was scrubbing slime off fish tanks in the middle of the night. Any minute now, Newt's about to end up on an episode of Unsolved Mysteries. The Physics Department Murder. The Disappearing Biologist. (Nah, neither of those are very good titles, but that's why Newt isn't on the creative writing track.)

Step-tap-step. Closer now; Newt's heart leaps to his throat. Step-tap-step. Step-tap-step. Pausing just outside the door of room 214. God, why didn't Newt turn the lights off? Why didn't he shut the door?

Newt reaches for the first vaguely weapon-shaped thing he can find—an empty fishbowl, because Newt's not going to sacrifice any of the fish for this—and, as the door swings open, hurls it with a cry.

The bowl clunks on the ground. Except it turns out Newt grabbed the wrong fish bowl, because (even though it doesn't shatter, thank God) water quickly begins to seep across the slate floor tiles towards Newt's serial killer, a pathetic little clownfish (Newt thinks this one is named Albert, because the physics department is made up of nerds who do shit like name their random pet fish after their kind) flopping around in the puddle. Newt's serial killer, meanwhile, cries out similarly, his arms windmilling as he loses his footing and slips backwards, his cane—

Oh, fuck.

The intruder is not a serial killer. It's someone possibly worse, actually: Newt's mortal enemy, Hermann Gottlieb.

Newt's not really sure at what point Hermann became his mortal enemy and not just some guy I have class with that I hate, but he can pretty easily say that they've hated each other since the moment Hermann walked through the doors of Engineering 101 and was deigned Newt's lab partner by the Alphabetized By Last Name Seating Chart god. Something about Hermann just gets under Newt's skin. It's not his prissy English accent, or his oversized sweaters, or his absolutely horrendous haircut, and it's not even that he takes every opportunity to savagely rip apart every single thing Newt says in class. Don't get Newt wrong, that's all super fucking annoying, but it's annoying levels he can deal with.

It's the stuff they have in common that makes Newt hate him. It's like Hermann's a slightly broodier and more angular mirror that reflects all of Newt's most egregious faults—his arrogance, his stubbornness, his social awkwardness, his desperation to be taken seriously—right back at him. It sucks.

Plus, one time Newt caught Hermann ripping down the flyer he put up on the quad for Anime Club to advertise his stupid chess club instead, and he's never managed to forgive him for that.

Newt may hate Hermann, but he's not about to let him land on his ass in a puddle of fishy water (especially not on a freezing November night) just because the subsequent bitching would be unbearable, and, yeah, it would be supremely shitty of Newt, so he leaps forward just in time to catch Hermann and his cane before he hits the ground. He's so impressed with himself with his amazing catch that it takes him a few seconds to realize that Hermann is shouting and probably has been shouting since he slipped.

"—bloody maniac! What on earth are you doing in here? How are you in here? Did you just assault me? I'm going to phone campus police, you wretched—"

"Hold that thought," Newt says.

He rights Hermann and snags the mesh net and rescues poor Al before it's too late, dropping him back into the big tank with the rest of his friends. Newt can't be sure, but he thinks Al blows a bubble in thanks at him. Maybe he needs to make friends outside fish.

Hermann is still yelling at him.

"I am going to tell the head of the department you're—you're skulking about in here after hours!" he declares. "You're a menace. Pay attention to what I'm saying to you, Newton!"

Newt sighs and turns around. Hermann's turned an interesting shade of red—sort of like an over-boiled lobster, or if he fell asleep in the sun for too long. Newt wonders if it's from embarrassment (almost falling on his ass) or anger (almost being knocked on his ass). Probably anger. "Look, dude, I'm sorry," Newt says. His face twists like he ate a lemon, and he hopes Hermann doesn't notice. Newt hates apologizing to Hermann. "It's my job to clean the tanks every weekend. You scared the shit out of me and I freaked out—it's just that, like, no one ever comes by this late. Ever." He decides not to mention the serial killer thing. Hermann might make fun of him for being jumpy or paranoid or something.

Hermann's scowl doesn't lessen, but he does nod. Plus, he stops shouting. That's as much as Newt's gonna get of forgiveness. "Hmph," Hermann says. "You clean the tanks?"

"Every weekend," Newt repeats. He realizes he got some fish tank slime on Hermann's button-up when he caught him. Oops. Hopefully Hermann won't notice until Newt's in the safety of his dorm. "Gotta pay for my textbooks somehow." Then he frowns. "Wait, so what are you doing here? I didn't know you had access to the building this late."

Maybe Hermann is the kitchenette-cleaning guy after all. But, to his surprise, Hermann sniffs and casts his eyes to his dorky Oxford shoes. "Er," he says. "It's just—I was having trouble working out a solution to a problem, and thought a walk might do me good. Chilly nights like this one always do. And I quite like this building at night—it's calm, and much quieter than my dormitory." He fidgets. "And—well—only don't say anything to anyone, but I rewrote the permissions of my ID card so I could come and go wherever I please ages ago."

"You rewrote the permissions?" Newt says. "What the hell, wouldn't you have to hack into the security system or something to do that?"

"Well, obviously," Hermann says.

Despite himself, and despite Hermann being his Mortal Enemy, Newt is genuinely impressed. "Dude," he says. "That is so badass." Since when has Hermann been a badass?

Hermann's eyebrows jump, and he blinks at Newt behind his dorky librarian glasses. What twenty-one-year-old wears librarian glasses? With a chain? "You think so?" he says.

"Uh, totally," Newt says. "What problem were you stuck on? The one from Saturday?"

Being lab partners for engineering means Newt and Hermann have to collaborate on pretty much everything, including their midterms. Their midterm is what they've been working on for the past two weeks. On Saturday, though, they met in neutral ground to work on it (a reserved study room in the library), and, after a stupid and massive argument that had the librarians hoisting them out by their shirt collars and threatening to ban them for life, Hermann called Newt an idiot and stomped off into the night. Newt still hasn't gotten around to giving the problem another shot. Whatever, they have another week before the dumb thing is due. Plenty of time. Hermann nods. "Yes," he says. "Er—that one."

Newt glances at the clock ticking away on the wall. Quarter after eleven. Hermann's delayed him a whole fifteen minutes. Technically, he reminds himself, he doesn't actually have to have the tanks scrubbed by Friday night—he has the whole weekend to get it done. Also, he kind of feels like he owes Hermann for attacking him the way he did. Accidentally attacking. "Listen, Hermann," he says, feeling totally insane for what he's about to suggest. But he kind of wants to know more about Hermann The Badass. "What if we went back to my place and worked on it together? I'll buy us pizza, and I have, like, a bunch of energy drinks." The pizza place nearest campus is open until three in the morning, almost definitely because they get all of their business from sleep-deprived undergrads. Plus, they have midnight specials where you get free breadsticks with every pizza. Newt could go for some breadsticks. "It might be...fun," he adds.

Fun? With Hermann? Hermann will think he hit his head or something.

But to his surprise, Hermann doesn't hesitate even a second before saying "Alright, then."

"Oh," Newt says. He honestly thought Hermann would put up more of a struggle. "Cool!"

"But I might need to borrow a jumper," Hermann says. "If you'd be so...courteous, that is. I'm a bit chilly."

For some reason, the thought of Hermann (Newt's mortal enemy, but also a secret badass) curled up in one of Newt's baggy sweatshirts makes Newt feel all weird and warm all over. He swallows a few times, because his throat feels a little weird, too. Too tight. Like he just ate something he's allergic to. "No sweat," Newt says. "Let me just get these fish back in the, um, the tank. And—" He waves his slimy, gloved hands. "Take these off. And clean up that puddle. Gimme—um, gimme like, ten minutes?"

"Of course," Hermann says, and gives Newt a small, terse nod.

From Hermann, it's a smile. Newt almost slips on the puddle he's so blindsided by it. Stupid Hermann, making him feel all weird and clumsy.

[marshmallow-phd]

Healing Touch

Part of The Untamed - EXO Wolf Universe

Genre: Wolf!AU

Pairing: Yixing x Reader

Summary: Medical school abroad was the last line on your to-do list before starting the rest of your life. Everything was going according to plan. Everything, that is, until tragedy strikes your campus. In the wake of a professor’s untimely death, you’re partnered with the cute boy with a breathtaking smile in the newly combined labs. You find yourself unable to resist the dimples and shy glances, but his life is here with no plans of leaving. Will you continue on as planned or will you accept the hand that Fate had dealt you?

Part: 1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5 I 6 I 7 I 8 I 9 I 10 I Final

**

Yixing sat at the kitchen table as the others finished up their breakfast. Minseok took the now empty plate that had belonged to Ji Yeon and rinsed it off in the sink, scrubbing away at the bits that had caked onto the white porcelain. Yixing continued to stare at the newspaper article. He’d read it so many times in the last fifteen minutes that surely he had it memorized by now. Worry pounded in his ears and not simply because of the rise in wolf-related deaths in the area. It had been his professor that was killed this time.

The same splitting headache that had been plaguing him for weeks now came back in full force. Dropping the paper, Yixing rubbed his eyes with his thumb and index finger. It didn’t do any good.

“You okay?”

Yixing looked up at Baekhyun, who stood on the other side of the table. He smiled. “Of course. Given the circumstances. I’m just hoping I can catch up in this new class.”

“It sucks that it had to be one of your pre-med classes,” Baekhyun said, shaking his head.

“It’s terrible that it had to happen at all.”

“You know what I meant. We’re already worried enough about these attacks, but now you’re connected to one of the deaths. We’ll have to be extra careful.”

“I’m always careful.”

“Yixing isn’t the one we have to worry about.” Junmyeon said pointedly. Baekhyun feigned a wounded look. Snickers echoed around the room, except from Minseok’s mate, Ji Yeon. Her eyebrows were pinched tight with concern. And she had every right to be. Perhaps she should even be more worried than she already was.

The headache still throbbed behind Yixing’s eyes. Relief didn’t seem to be coming soon. He stood up from the table, excusing himself quietly as he left the kitchen for his bedroom to be alone.

“Yixing?”

He stopped a few steps up.

Ji Yeon stood just inside the short hallway, arms folded in front of her with the fingers tucked underneath. Yixing thought of her as a strong person, someone who stood as a good foundation for Minseok. He didn’t know her that well yet, but he already say her as the strong type, the sturdy kind.

“Yes?”

“You guys will catch this omega, right?” She glanced off to side, probably to check that Minseok hadn’t overheard her question. The eldest wolf was more than aware, Yixing was sure of it. The connection between a mate and their wolf was strong, indescribably so from the stories he’d heard. If he was honest, he was a bit jealous that Minseok was the first to be mated. The hope he had, however, was that she would not be the last. Once a pack started finding their other halves, it was a domino effect. His time would come, sooner or later.

Yixing mustered up a smile that he hoped came off as reassuring. “There’s nine of us and one of him. Eventually, we’ll find him.” Accepting that answer for the time being, Ji Yeon nodded and walked back into the kitchen. As soon as she was out of sight, Yixing dropped the smile and swallowed thickly. He headed up the rest of the way to bedroom and shut the door.

Tense energy tingled through his feet as he sat on the edge of his bed. They were aching to move, to pace in hopes to work out the nerves, but he didn’t want to concern his brothers who would certainly hear it from the floor below. A run was out as well. As soon as any of the others got a whiff of someone shifting to wander through the woods, they jumped in to join. Only Minseok had the talent to get away clean.

Honestly, that was the least of his worries if he were to go running.

He wasn’t a killer. He wanted to help people. That was why he was studying medicine, why he wanted to be a doctor. But lately… These headaches were never ending, plaguing him over the last several weeks. And then there were the blackouts. Moments of time where he couldn’t remember what had happened. No one saw him during those times. Though he didn’t have to ask when he saw the pack after an episode. He was usually questioned where he had been himself. And he never had an answer. Not a truthful one.

No. This couldn’t have been him. There was another explanation for what was happening, both with the killings and with himself. It would just take time to figure it out.

**

Your fingers clenched tightly to the textbook against your chest. All morning you had been spending time at the library, reviewing last week’s vocabulary in an effort to distract yourself. Unfortunately, in a place like this with a wild animal running around killing people, escaping the whispers and rumors was not an option. It seemed that everyone was discussing the latest tragedy. And it made sense with how close it hit to the university.

“I hear her body was found in pieces.”

“I’m surprised they even found a body with all the animals that live in the woods.”

“Some of the hunters are talking about going out to kill the animal before it kills someone else.”

“No way. Did you see the pictures someone took of the paw prints in the dirt? That thing has to be huge. Like a bear.”

“There’s no way its as big as a bear.”

“I didn’t even know there were wolves in the forest.”

“What? Did you think it was all bunnies and squirrels?”

Unable to take it anymore, you’d slammed the textbook shut (gaining annoyed glares from those around you as if they weren’t the cause of your inability to utilize the library in the way it was meant to be used) and headed out. It was mystifying to you, the way others would talk about what was happening, like it was sports game or a thriller on TV.

Professor Xui was strict and stern, but she was also admired by the students. The “tough love” type. Though you personally had never been in any of her classes, you did know who she was, and you’d cried when you’d heard the news. Naturally, the university was on top of how to move forward. You’d groaned audibly when you’d read the email that the classes would be combining. Your human physiology class was already close to capacity. They had moved your session into one of the larger science rooms where freshman chemistry classes typically took place. Goodbye uncomfortable wooden desks, hello overly tall lab tables and bar stools with no back support.

You were one of the first to arrive at the lab, giving you the pick of the lot. One of the front tables was free so you settled there. You continued to clutch to the textbook that should have been opened to the page written on the white board in front of you. It was hard to let go. This thick, overpriced book wasn’t going to protect you from anything. And besides, you had no reason to be afraid. You didn’t go into the woods. You weren’t the kind to hike or camp or go near the trees for any reason. The flannel shirt you wore was simply because it was comfortable. You were absolutely fine.

Rolling your eyes at yourself and the silliness that was the track of your mind, you let go of the book and flipped to page thirty-four. Other students filed in as the seconds ticked closer to the allotted time. Professor Jiang, a short, salt and pepper-haired man with wired-framed glasses and a dad-level sense of humor, walked into the room with his old school briefcase, corners wearing thin and the metal on the push latches showing the brass base until the silver coating. The duet of the latches still made you jump even after fully expecting it.

“Good morning, everyone.” Professor Jiang adjusted his glasses. A nervous twitch he completed at the beginning of every class. All it took was five minutes into his lecture and he developed the steel nerves of an alligator wrestler. Pulling a pencil out from your bag, you barely paid attention to the rest of Jiang’s announcement. “I know it's difficult to process, but we’ll all get through this together. For the new students, I will be available for anyone who needs help adjusting to the new teaching style. And I- Oh. Hello.”

You looked up to see what the interruption was.

A late comer had entered the classroom, the door slowly closing behind him. Slim yet athletic, the newest student wasn’t overbearing or imposing, but he still captivated your attention, holding on to it as if his life depended on it. And he was staring right back at you with an intensity that matched your own. Mouth hanging open by the slightest of centimeters, he didn’t move or pay any attention to the professor or the other students staring at him. The muscles in his hand strongly gripped the strap of his backpack that hung off one shoulder. He was going to misalign his back if he kept doing that.

Professor Jiang cleared his throat pointedly, ending the staring contest. “New student?”

The new student blinked rapidly as he turned to the teacher. “Yes. Sorry. I got lost with the new room assignment.”

“One of Xui’s students?”

He nodded.

“That’s alright. We all need an adjustment period. Please, take a seat.”

You stiffened as Professor Jiang held his hand out in the direction of the empty seat right next to you. And that’s exactly where the new student sat. You forced yourself to keep your eyes straight ahead, concentrating a little too hard as Professor Jiang started his lecture of the circulatory system. But his words were drowned out by the shuffling beside you as the new student took out his textbook and other necessities for notes. You leaned forward, holding your neck up by your palm as you mentally repeated the highlights of the pulmonary circuit in order to be productive. The scratch of the pen against your notebook seemed louder today. Your heart seemed to be working in overtime as well. Was everything louder today? Or were you being overly sensitive to noise due to the current circumstances?

“Alright. Please, take a few minutes to go over the review questions located at the end of the section,” Professor Jiang said. It was almost a relief for his short lecture to be over. “Feel free to check with your partner at the table. To make things easier for all of us, the seats you chose today with be permanent for the rest of the semester and who you are seated with will be your constant collaborator.”

Oh, joy.

You were not the best at getting to know new people. It wasn’t your fault, you didn’t think. The other person always wanted to start off with the weather or their job or some other subject that you found difficult to bounce off of to continue the conversation. It was like your mind wasn’t built for small talk. Somehow, you’d missed the installation of pre-programmed responses that everyone else carried around. You had a tendency to go a little too deep a little too quickly. Those were the conversations you wanted to have. Those were the kind that you found easy responses for. But people tended to find your passion about Rosalind Franklin and her forgotten contribution to science a little much.

“Hi.”

The cool voice that broke through your scrambled thoughts made you jump. You hit your knee against the lab table. Careful to hide it from view, you rubbed the sore spot to make the throbbing go away. Your new lab partner must have heard it given the shy smile that pushed up left corner of his mouth, revealing a deep dimple in his cheek. As much as you wished it wasn’t, your heart beating rapidly against your ribs.

For several seconds, you said nothing. No greeting back, no “I’m trying to focus on my work”, not anything. You were silent, staring back at him like he was walking around with a windmill on his head.

“I’m Yixing,” he continued in an effort to get you to speak.

Right. Conversations were two-way streets. “(y/n).”

His smile spread even wider. “It’s nice to meet you, (y/n).”

Words had apparently abandoned you today. All you could do was nod. He didn’t take it offensively. A small chuckle pushed passed the silence.  

“Do you want to do the questions together?” he asked. “Or maybe when we’re both finished, we could compare what we got?” he suggested when you still didn’t answer.

“Compare,” you finally spat out. “I think it would be better if we compared. Afterwards, that is.” Not that you were usually the most articulate person, but this was becoming painful.

Yixing nodded. “Okay.” And with that he turned to his book, numbered the lines down on his paper and read over the questions. Taking a deep breath, you turned to your own station to do the same. Big mistake.

His natural scent hit you like a gust of wind on a previously calm day. You weren’t expecting the soft pine smell that he radiated. It wasn’t an overly musty, too-much-cologne type smell. It was subtle; the reason you didn’t catch on to it until this moment. Glancing over at you, Yixing frowned.

“You smell nice.” Oh, gosh, someone kidnap you now. Get you out of here in a fashion that would give reason as to why you didn’t come back. Did those words actually just leave your lips? Turning away from him, you reprimanded yourself for the slip up. Yixing laughed softly, making you turn to face him again.

“Thank you,” he said sweetly. “I appreciate the compliment. Especially since this building has a tendency to smell bad between the chemicals and dissections. I’m always worried that I’ll leave with some of it on me.”

You smiled at his joke. And that was where your thought train stopped. Instinct told you that an additional response was appropriate, but none came to you. You tried to rifle through the possibilities. Before you could find one, though, Yixing had turned his back down to his work.

With the awkward exchange over, you were able to make it through the five questions, writing down the answers with confidence.

“Do you want to compare?” Yixing asked as soon as you wrote the last word.

“Sure.” You slid your paper closer to the middle and shifted your body so you were partially facing him. One by one, you went over what each of you had gotten. Physiology of the human body was a strong suit of yours, more so than of your other science classes. That little bit of pride you had was perking up. It was ready to show off its penchant for knowledge. Unfortunately, this was not going to be one of those times for showing off. For the most part, you were evenly matched. Your answers were close, nearly identical in some parts.

“Professor Jiang might think we cheated,” Yixing teased.

“Well, he did say to collaborate with each other.” Good response. Appropriate response. You nearly patted yourself on the shoulder with that one. You even gave it the kind of tone that said you were merely teasing back.

“Yes, that’s true.”

“That concludes today’s class,” Professor Jiang announced. “As you leave, please stack your answer papers on the corner of the desk up here.” He patted the black top for emphasis. “Have a good day, everyone.”

Standing up, the sounds of stool legs scraping against the scuffed tile echoed through the large room behind you. Once your textbook was zipped up safely in your bag, you reached for the paper. Yixing swiped it up first.

“I’ll take it up there for you.”

“Oh, no, that’s okay. You don’t have to.”

“I want to.”

You might not have been the only one blurting out thoughts before you stop them. A slight pink hue bloomed on Yixing’s cheeks. You were left there speechless as he hurried to the front, dropped off the papers, and left the classroom.

Dazed was an understatement. You didn’t know what to make of what had just happened. So, you ignored it. It was probably nothing anyway. Checking your watch, you calculated the amount of time you had until your afternoon sessions. There was a long break in between. The smart decision would be to hang out somewhere on campus to ensure that you actually went to your afternoon classes. But you needed quiet. Somewhere with no whispers about the woods or comments about the college’s new schedules. The only place you were guaranteed to find that was in your apartment. The building was a couple blocks away, a short walk no more than five minutes. You would have plenty of time to head there and back.

The front door was unlocked when you arrived. A bad habit from your roommate. She didn’t see the need to lock it if she was home and awake. You, on the other hand, clicked it tight and double checked it before stepping in deeper to the apartment.

Ran was sitting at the table, eating noodles and scrolling through a site on her laptop while her phone played a soft melody led by a pipa. It was a dreamy song, soft and comforting, like what your parents used to play for you after a nightmare.

Sighing to yourself, you sat down across from Ran and let your bag fall off your shoulder and to the floor. You hadn’t taken your computer with you, so the loud clump wasn’t one to panic over.

“How was class this morning with the new students?” Ran asked over the music.

The two of you weren’t extremely close. Friends, but not blood sisters. Ran had been your roommate freshman year and when you started talking about moving off campus, you’d offered her the other room to cut down on cost. She’d taken it rather than risk getting a new roommate that she didn’t like. You were similar some ways and vastly different in others. It balanced out, though, and you got along to the point where neither of you kicked up a fuss about cleaning the rooms or washing the dishes. You simply cleaned up after yourself. It was a co-habitation of convenience.

You shrugged. “It was fine. We’re all partnered up now, which is a little awkward, but I’ll survive, I guess.”

“Are they cute, at least?” Ran said with a smirk.

Yes. “I don’t know. I wasn’t paying that much attention.”

“You’re a terrible liar.” Reaching over to the stack of envelopes, Ran plucked the one off the top and handed it to you. “I picked up the mail this morning. Thought you might want to see what came for you.”

Your stomach whirled like it was in a tumble dryer. The envelope had a familiar red emblem of a brick clocktower stamped in the top left corner. With a shaky hand, you took the envelope and ripped open the top. The nicely folded letter slipped out easily. Your eyes scanned the black letters. When they finally sunk in, you slumped back in your chair with a sigh.

“Oh, no.” Ran frowned. “They didn’t reject you, did they?”

You shook your head. “No, not out right. They want to see how well I do this semester before giving a final decision.”

“Well, that’s not too bad. It’s not a no.”

“It’s not a guaranteed yes either.”

Closing her laptop, Ran crossed her arms. Her lips were pursed, eyes down on the table. “You could just stay here. I mean, they have a pretty good medical program and you said that this was where your parents had met-”

“I don’t want to stay here,” you stated firmly. “There’s no reason to.”

“Your aunt is close by.”

“She wants me to do what I want. If that means going to medical school far away, then so be it. I’ll stay in touch with her. Visit when I can.”

“Well, I hope you get in.” Ran stood up and stretched. “On a brighter note, Hae In and I are going out tonight if you want to join us.”

You shook your head. “I’m good. Thanks for the invite, though. I appreciate it.” Whenever Ran and Hae In went out, things tended to get a little crazy. You were sure they had fun and they always came home safe. You just didn’t think that it would your kind of scene. She left a few minutes later and you were finally granted that peace and quite you had been searching for. Well, the quiet, at least.

Peace was nowhere to be found. Stress was rearing its ugly head as you stared at the letter. Ran was right, it was wasn’t a flat rejection. They were, at minimum, interested in giving you a chance. As one of the most prestigious medical universities in the country, you were eager to walk their halls.

The fact that it was far away from any reminders of your life was the bigger incentive. Releasing all the air your lungs were holding on to, you folded the letter back up and tucked it away in the front pocket of your bag. All you had to do was make it through this semester with no hiccups and you would be fine.

Shouldn’t be too hard. There was no reason for any of your plans to be derailed or for you to change your mind.

As long as you survived the next few months, that is.

[purplesurveys]

1262

o1. With which one of your friends do you spend the most time? With which friend do you spend the least amount of time? Would you like to change this in any way? I don’t really get to...spend time with my friends, in that sense. For very obvious reasons. But I talk to Angela and Reena the most. Andi and I talk a lot too, but not everyday. 

Among my friends, I probably talk to my college group the least these days, but that’s mostly because 2/3 of them are pursuing law school, and the 1/3 have jobs and are as busy as I am. We’re still as tight as ever and our group chat becomes active at least once a week.

o2. What four states in the USA would you most like to visit? Which four countries would you most like to visit? States: Illinois, Louisiana, New York, Utah. Countries: Malta, Switzerland, Thailand, South Korea.

o3. If you have one, how often do you watch your favorite television show? How long has this show been your favorite? I’m not a big TV person, tbh. The closest thing to my favorite would be Friends, which I rewatch at least one episode of once a month though I used to watch it FAR more often than that, hahaha. I think I first hooked to it...I wanna say 2018?Or 2019. Sometime in between those years. o4. Would it bother you if your boyfriend hugged other females (think hypothetically if you don’t have one)? Why or why not? No. He’s allowed to have girl friends. The only reason it bothered me when it was Gabie was because we were both aware that her guy friends were genuinely into her. I never channeled my annoyance towards her though; I was definitely more pissed off at those guys for not learning how to back off when needed.

o5. If you had snow-days as a kid, how did you spend them? Do you like the snow, in general? We don’t have snow, but our equivalent would be days off school because of a typhoon. Anyway, I just spent them lounging around and mostly watching stuff on YouTube. In college I was a bit more diligent and would use the extra time to catch up on readings.

o6. Do you know anyone who does hard drugs? Would you ever befriend someone that did? Not that I am aware of. I probably wouldn’t befriend someone who did if we weren’t already close, because there’s no telling what kind of influence they would be on me.

o7. When was the last time that you were afraid for your life? Did this incident change you in any way? When I was really sick back in May. Not really, I just wanted to recover as quickly as possible.

o8. Do you enjoy taking pictures? Is it just for fun, or do you make an attempt at actual photography? I didn’t then, but it’s something I’m trying to do more often now. I’ve realized I have very few souvenirs from the last few years because I barely took photos then, so it sucks not being able to revisit memories and ending up forgetting others completely. I definitely don’t plan to take it so far as taking photography lessons; taking pictures from my own perspective and in my own style suffices.

o9. Have you ever had low self-esteem? How is your self-esteem now? Yeah, sure. I had a recent phase of it because of the breakup, but I’ve recovered from it. My self-esteem is a lot healthier and more stable these days.

o1o. When you see someone sickly-thin, what is your first thought? Nothing for the most part, but I would obviously be concerned if that person was starting to show worrying signs of malnutrition. Idrk what you mean by sickly-thin.

o11. Do hospitals make you nervous? Why or why not? Do you have any bad hospital experiences? Not really, only because I’ve rarely had to go there.

o12. What did you dress up as the last time you went Trick-or-Treating? Who went with you? I went as Sofie, my old best friend from high school.

o13. What is one thing you miss most from your childhood? What do you miss the least? The part about having less responsibilities and more time to just have fun and do whatever I want. But I didn’t really have a picture-perfect childhood either, so my list of things I don’t miss for sure trumps the list of stuff I do miss.

o14. What would be the biggest challenge involved in raising a child at your age? How to send them to a good school because I don’t make nearly enough to afford tuition for another person.

o15. If you happened to get pregnant before you were ready for children, how would you cope? Do you think your parents would support you and help you out? I don’t know, honestly; and the thought kind of scares me. I know my parents wouldn’t provide support whatsoever, so I’d have to claw my way to find it from other people who would be willing. I’d probably need to take an extra job to earn enough money to support us both.

o16. Have you ever had unprotected sex? What would you tell a young teen thinking about having unprotected sex? Yeah, but I was also with a girl, so...idk. I don’t have a lot of sexual experience either so I dunno what sort of advice to tell a teen other than ‘don’t do it,’ lmao.

o17. What are some gender double-standards anger you? All of them. < Yes.

o18. Other than the usual qualities (honesty, respect, etc), what are some attributes you want your BF/GF to possess? Patience in the sense that I tend to be sensitive, so if they crack a joke that I ended up getting hurt or offended by, or if I get triggered by something minor that would otherwise be normal for anyone else, I hope they are patient enough to ride the wave out with me. I didn’t experience that with my past partner, and was often told to just stop being sensitive.

o19. Do you still talk to the first person you ever dated? If not, would you want to? Why or why not? No, because doing so is detrimental to my well-being.

o2o. Five years ago, what was the most important thing in your life? How about the most important person? My relationship, barf. Gabie, another barf.

21. How would you describe your sexuality? Have you ever wondered whether or not you might be homo/bisexual? I’ve stopped caring about it. I say asexual to people just so I have an answer to say.

o22. Do you think that homosexual couples should be able to raise or adopt children? Why or why not? Yeah...because I don’t see why they can’t be granted that right?

o23. Think of your worst fear. What would you do if you were confronted with it right now? Hyperventilate.

o24. If you were to become a vegetarian, what meat-product would you miss the most? Have you ever been or wanted to be a vegetarian? Chicken wings or sandwiches. I’ve thought about it before, yes. It’s too expensive a lifestyle where I live, though.

o25. Do you think that someone’s sexuality is something that they can control? No.

o26. What do you like most about your favorite animal? They’re very friendly and always down to play. :)

o27. What is your favorite way to eat your favorite food? How often do you eat your favorite food item? Eating burgers by hand is always the best. I have one maybe once a month.

o28. What is something you are craving? Will this craving be satisfied? KFC’S DOUBLE DOWN. I’ll get one next week, when I get my next pay lol. The rest of my budget this week is already allotted for my mom’s birthday/JK’s belated birthday dinner tomorrow.

o29. What is the largest number of texts you have sent in a day? Do you often text this much? Ooooh, I dunno. Maybe around 200-300 in a day? My ex and I primarily communicated through text whenever we weren’t physically together, which was often as we were both students in different schools.

o3o. Do you like the holiday season? Why or why not? What could be better about it? Some parts of it I like, some parts of it I don’t. The latter mostly stems from insecurities I will feel from seeing other families on social media, who always seem to be having a better and fancier time than I am. It’s why I usually deactivate during Christmas so I don’t get to see posts that can affect my disposition.

[yakumtsaki]

Welcome, dear readers, to Part 2 out of 3 of the Union Comeback Season Premiere Episode (title under construction, part 1 here). Right off the bat, let me just admit what everyone is thinking, yes, mass-deleting default replacements was clearly a huge mistake. Looking good in the heart boxers, boys, especially Jojo! Very on brand and not at all ridiculous. On a lesser but equally annoying note, our windows have suddenly turned red while the exterior AND interior of the house are purple. Dark days ahead..

..but not for Goro, who has returned home since running away and is immediately being kicked out again. Good to see you Goro, now pack up your shit, D’vorah won the cat heir position so it’s time for you to move to Melody and Daniel’s farm.

-Well I’m a cat so I don’t have any possessions to pack.

Thank you for providing an example of why you lost the cat heirship via this painfully boring reaction to the news of your defeat.

-No, he’s right, we cats don’t have any possessions to pack.

Omg D’vorah shut up. How on earth you boring flops are Alegra/Ronroneo’s grandchildren AND Sophie’s children I’ll never understand. I’m this close to making Maxx the cat heir and he’s not even a cat.

-Correct, I’m a dog.

Worst group of pets e v e r. 

Oh look who autonomously woohooed for the first time in a century, I guess those base game heart boxers were simply too hot to resist. If one of you gets knocked up a week away from elderhood I’m gonna have a meltdown the likes of which the world has never seen.

-For the love of God, can we get some privacy here?

I’d love nothing more than to give you two bozos eternal privacy by never looking at either of you again, but the headmaster is here for Wulf so put some clothes on-

-WHAT THE FUCK. Why do we keep getting new headmasters instead of the ones we’ve already terrorized into submission?? Now we have to ‘show BJ a good time’ and ‘maybe we could give BJ a tour’, I’d honestly rather give BJ a bj and get this shit over with, I’m tired of threatening headmasters with murder. Hopefully it doesn’t come to sexual favors but if it does, Wyatt, you’re up. 

-Pourquoi moi???

Pourquoi toi still haven’t gotten promoted and toi sleep 22 hours a day, it’s high time toi pulled your weight around here. 

Good, that’s the spirit.

-Bonjour, monsieur Headmastér! I wòuld introdûce yoù to Wûlf but hé is très busý with unpàid çhild labόr.

-Haha, what a hilarious joke, Mr. Union!

-Alright Cinderello, after you’re done cleaning the flooding shower you’re going to need to jump out the second floor window and go study in the crypt, so the headmaster doesn’t see you and ask you any uncomfortable questions about whether I acknowledge you as my son. I have to go help your father charm our guest by giving my trademarked speech on how I never got impregnated by aliens and what a blow it was to humanity’s future. 

-Ok Mr. Jojo!

-For the last time Wulf, it’s not ‘Mr. Jojo’, it’s ‘Mr. Union’. God.

-Ah hello there Headmaster BJ, apologies for my lateness, I was tucking little Wulf in bed because I definitely acknowledge him as my son. As I do all 3 of my children and not just Cyneswith. Ask anyone! But not Wulf or whatshername.. I want to say Shenar? Anyway, now that that’s been cleared up, what are we talking about here? The fact I never got impregnated by aliens and what a terrible blow it was to humanity’s future? I assumed as much.

-Haha aliens?! Well you are just a family of crack ups, does your son share this amazing sense of humor?

-Oh yes yes he definitely does, and he is definitely OUR son, that’s exactly how I view him as well, not solely as Wyatt’s offspring just because he appears to not have a drop of my DNA. I mean who even cares about that? Not me, that’s for certain. Yes, Wulf was just telling me the funniest joke while I was reading Cinderella to him before I put him to bed-

-Man, it’s so hard to concentrate on math with a broken leg from jumping out the window and Grandpa’s disembodied head floating around.

Grandpa’s disembodied head?? 

OH FUCK KOMEI

-What?

Nothing! Looking good! The decision to delete default replacements didn’t affect you in any way!

-Thank god, have you seen Vic with that base game hair? Talk about scary. 

Yes, talk about scary indeed. Do you happen to know if the matchmaker performs the occasional exorcism?

-No idea.

Well she hates me anyway so that was solution was dead in the water. I have to go back to the headmaster fuckery now, but I want you to know I’m really sorry for what Salome did to you. 

-Sό, monsieur Headmastér, the όnly tràck reçord which est bettér than the όne we havé with bébés wόrking, est the oné we havé with our animàls rûnning awaý!

-Oh my.

-He’s joking, he’s joking Headmaster BJ, we’re both excellent pet owners and excellent parents, if you’ll excuse me the phone is ringing-

-Cyneswith darling! An adult bartender is calling for you and he has the Komei face! You might be 14 but he’s clearly future husband material!

-Be right there, daddy!

-Alright, I think I’ve seen enough here.

No you haven’t! Wyatt, take off your robe!

-No need, I’ve made up my mind..

-..you’re obviously a perfect match for our school! 

What the hell? How? Even by our standards we legit didn’t do shit.

-Headmaster Jitmakusol left a very distraught letter regarding your family before he was institutionalized, the gist of it being it is pointless to try and keep you people out of the school, and his successor should simply ‘roll with it’. 

Well ok then! Pleasure doing business with you, BJ.

-The pleasure was all mine, please don’t ever contact me again.

We’ll make sure to be in touch.

In the meantime, Komei has recovered his body!

-Why me? WHY ALWAYS ME? CYNESWITH IS RIGHT THERE

-Sorry honey, we play poker for it every night and Victor won dibs on Cyneswith.

-That’s right, the first one to scare everyone gets ghost-bingo!

Are you fuckers playing ghost-poker or ghost-bingo?

-It’s a hybrid, we have a lot of time on our hands, being dead and all, so we developed an overcomplicated gambling system for our scares. 

Yea ok congrats Victor, now can you fuck off before you actually do kill one of the kids?? They have 10/10/9 energy, they literally never sleep.

-No can do, if you actually kill someone you get Yahtzee!

How many fucking games are involved in this bullshit?

-We told you, we have a lot of time on our hands. SUCK IT VICTOR, I WIN FOR THE NIGHT

Win for the night? Who cares about that, you have Wyatt cornered, go for the Yahtzee!

-Oh, but you said our games were bullshit!

That’s before I realized Wyatt was awake for his allotted 2 hours per day non-sleeping time. Wyatt istfg bro, are you half French-Arab and half panda?

-Pandàs eàt for 14 hourès idiόt, ne pas slèèp.

Well look who knows a suspicious amount about pandas now! Almost like he’s descended from them.

Oh good, everyone’s favorite couple simultaneously has the day off. How about I take you two out for a nice date at Londoste since you’re about 55 years old?

-How about hard pass on that architectural monstrosity of a restaurant and we hang out for 6 hours in our front yard instead?

-Oui, oui! Très blanc garbagè of us!

Well at least we’re not forgetting our roots. 

Alright then, we’ve crossed into white trash territory unironically with the yard pda and we’re also freezing to death, how about we take this inside?

-Non!

-Yes, non indeed! I love how frozen your hands are, dear, it’s like you’re a real corpse!

Oh my G-

-Catch me, Creature!

-Je t'aime, dr. Frankènstèin! 

Ok, new suggestion, how about instead of going inside we visit a nice church?

-How abοùt you lôôk awày, pervertir!

Bold words from someone doing Frankenstein roleplay, and I’D LOVE TO, but the kids are at school and the animals are sleeping, so there’s no looking away from whatever the fuck this is. 

Oh thank god, Cyneswith is back from school and ready to cockblock her parents as always. First time I’m genuinely happy to see you, Cyn.

-Straight A’s again! Ah, we may only have one child but she is THE BEST. Wyatt dear, come here to congratulate Cyneswith and further inflate her ego. Wyatt?

-Why is he ignoring my straight A’s, daddy?! 

-Ugh, he’s probably jealous since everyone is jealous of you, darling. Pay him no mind, let’s go inside so I can give you the diamond tiara I got you for your birthday.

-But my birthday is in four months, what will you get me then?

-A throne to go with it and anything you want from Sihara’s and the other one’s rooms?

-They have no rooms, remember? They both sleep in the crypt.

-Right, well how about I act like I got them presents, give them to you and make them watch as you unwrap them?

-Aw daddy💗

-Je ne pas fèèl bien..

Yes, you’re dying, so it’d be some real Frankenstein shit if you did feel bien.

Is this Komei-clone bartender serious, first he calls while the headmaster is over, now he calls while we’re dying, FEEL THE FUCKING ROOM PAL

..and there we go. RIP Wyatt, it’s been sorta ok having you in the fami-

-WTF HOW ARE YOU ALIVE

-HA. I lièd, I AM hàlf pandà and mon beàr gènes protéct moi! 

GODDAMMIT I KNEW IT. Is that why the one child you gave birth to is your exact clone?

-Oui! Wulf est 1/4 pandà, et toi wènt et namèd him WULF. 

Well, to be fair, not a lot of famous pandas I could have named him after even if I knew. 

-Toi çould hàve namèd him Pandà!

Oh man, Panda Union does have a nice ring to it, especially next to the other names.. ~Shajar~, ~Cyneswith~ and PANDA. Thanks a lot for depriving me of the opportunity by withholding your genetic info.

-Je think Wulf est ontό it.. 

Onto the fact he’s 1/4 panda? I highly doubt that.

Yea nevermind, he knows. 

Oh great, Shajar has brought yet another uggo with a culturally appropriative hairstyle home from school. 

-That’s what you get for letting her out of the crypt.

Give it a rest, Jojo, we’ve had enough of your incredible parenting to last us 10 lifetimes at this point. 

-And then it goes: I send the thunder from the sky, I send the fire raining down, I send a hail of burning ice, on every field, on every town! I send the locusts on a wind, such as the world has never seen, on every leaf, on every stalk, until there's nothing left of green! I send my scourge, I send my sword, THUS SAITH THE LORD🎵

-Great, thank you, Shajar, for singing the entirety of the ‘10 Plagues’ song from The Prince of Egypt 27 times. I’m really sorry but I have to go home now-

-It-was-nice-to-meet-you noogie!

..Shajar, please, PLEASE see a doctor. 

-My sister Shajar may be super popular, spoiled and beloved-

WHAT LMAO

-but I have the friendship of animals and that’s all that matters!

Yea, Cyn, no offense, but it feels like you’re trying to cultivate an underdog Disney princess persona for yourself that is the exact opposite of actual family dynamics around here.

-What makes you say that?

Your tiara and throne vs Shajar sleeping in the crypt come to mind.

-So to be an underdog you need to be a loser?

I mean narrative-wise kinda, yea. 

-Message received. 

No, no that wasn’t a message-

-Yes it was and I got you, loud and clear.

Oh god.

-WHAT? YOU’RE REJECTING ME BECAUSE I’M TOO PRETTY? MY HEART IS BROKEN! I DON’T THINK I’LL EVER GET OVER THIS

-Uh, who are you again? Shajar invited me over, ordered a pizza and has been hiding in the bushes for 1 hour waiting to noogie the delivery guy. 

-I CAN’T BELIEVE WHAT I’M HEARING! I HAVE NO CHOICE BUT TO SING ABOUT THIS IN AN ENCHANTED FOREST FOR ABOUT 3 AND A HALF MINUTES

Jfc, where are the ghosts when you need them. 

-Mommy has dibs on you tonight, Jojo! 

-Mom please no! Your hair is so damn hideous! Just stay in your urn until the default replacement has been put back!

-Ah excellent, I have upgraded my robotic abilities up to cleanbot level! 

That actually is excellent, I really want us to fire Kaylynn. 

-Cleanbots don’t change cat litter. 

..UGH then why even bother, Jojo? The cat shit is 90% of our problems, make something that fixes that or stop wasting airtime with your nonsense. Istg some people. 

-Alright sis, how about we go out again tonight and ~play the field~? If I get rejected by a couple more mean boys I can earn my underdog princess badge!

-You are so stupid, Cyneswith, if you want to earn your underdog badge all you need to do is board a doomed ship, Titanic style, and then give the floating door to someone you’ve known for a couple of days while you selflessly and pointlessly drown in the freezing ocean despite the fact you could take turns sharing the door.

-But then I would be dead.

-I know right? Everybody wins. Let’s go get you some tickets.

Yea, let’s not, but let’s get out of here because the ghosts are out of fucking control and you two aren’t sleeping anytime soon.

-Shaj-and-Cyn-in-da-club noogie!

Shajar FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY, ENOUGH. 

OMG IT’S SOPHIE MIGUEL. SOPHIE MIGUEL IN THE HOUSE

-Whaddup dildos, ‘tis I, Sophie fucking Miguel, the meanest townie teen there is. I’ve only taken 4 steps into this place and I can already tell I’m surrounded by a bunch of beta turbocucks. 

SHAJAR GO TALK TO HER!!!!!

-HEY BITCH, I’M NOT A BETA TURBOCUCK, I’M ALPHA AS FUCK. I’M NAMED AFTER SHAJAR AL-DURR! DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHO THAT IS?

SHAJ WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING, WHAT IS THIS APPROACH

-Of course I do, the first Mamluk Sultana of Egypt. Nice. 

OMG THAT SHIT WORKED. LAND THE PLANE SHAJ

-Ohhhhhhhh😍 Do you want to talk some more?? Do you like the 10 Plagues song from the Prince of Egypt???

-Nop, as suddenly as I came into your life, I’m dramatically getting the fuck out for no discernible reason, cause that’s just how I roll. Gone with the wind, baby! I’m like an outdoor cat. You’ll never see me again.

-Oh but I will..

YES YOU WILL SHAJ. I’m so on board this particular Titanicesque crackship that it’s un.real. I mean Sophie Miguel literally came into this place, talked to Shajar for less than one minute and then left the bar entirely, in turn leaving us dick in hand. What.an.icon.

In the meantime Cyneswith.. did this. Game-changing night for everyone!

[spierfics]

Hi, could you please do a fic where Simon is on a “Love Connection” style dating show, and he of corse ends up choosing Bram.

Out of the Blue - Spierfeld Fic

“Action!”

Simon heard a cheesy tune emerge from the speakers as the live studio audience cheered. It was only right that his rock-bottom montage would be filmed in front of a crowd of almost sixty people.

After a moment’s pause, the host Colin walked to the front of the stage, bowing slightly as the audience applauded him on his way to his marked spot.

“Welcome to another episode of Love is Blind. Our contestant today is a young man from Pennsylvania, please welcome…Simon Spier!”

Simon feels a slight nudge from a member of the crew, and he walks out to his designated spot. The stage lights are almost blinding, way more than anything he’s ever experienced during his performances but he manages to focus his eyes towards Colin.

“How are you doing, Simon?”

“I’m doing great,” Simon replied with manufactured enthusiasm. “How about you,”

“Can’t complain,” Colin joked. “So, tell us a bit about yourself,”

“Well, I was raised in Georgia, and I moved out to Pennsylvania for college,”

“Wonderful,” Colin smiled. “And I see that you’re on your path to graduate,”

Simon crossed his fingers, “In a couple of months,”

“So four years of school…and you still didn’t find that special someone,”

The audience laughed at that, and Simon tried not to take the comment personally.

“I guess that’s why I’m here,”

“Fair enough,” Colin replied. “Let’s get going then, and meet our contenders,”

Simon took a deep breath and tried to listen closely, ready to take in as many facts as possible.

“Bachelor number one is a freshman at NYU, a photographer who spends most of his time in Central Park and hunting out obscure cafes,”

The audience cheered, and Simon supposed that meant he was a good-looking guy.

“Bachelor number two is a fitness expert, who is looking for a workout and life partner,”

The chorus of wolf-whistles that followed set up a clear image of what #2 looked like.

“Bachelor number three is a recent graduate of Columbia University, an avid reader and a fairly decent soccer player,”

There was a mix of responses from the audience this time, and Simon found it a little more difficult to gauge their reaction.

“Now that we’ve met our contenders it’s time for the first round!” Colin directed.

As a narrative voice-over explained to the viewers the rules of the first round, Simon was directed to a new seat and a crew member came over to adjust the collar of his shirt and hands him the notecards he’d need for the following round.

“Our first elimination round is based on questions that Simon has pre-selected, and our contenders will have thirty seconds to answer. The decision of who stays rests solely in Simon’s hands,”

Bachelor number one,” Simon says a little shakily, “What animal do you feel represents your personality best?”

“Hmmm…” 1 replied, and Simon felt like it lasted forever before he continued. “I don’t know…I don’t actually like animals all that much. I guess, like an owl or something because I take my time looking at things,”

Simon didn’t know how to respond. He supposed it was a dumb question to begin with, but didn’t think it warranted that pointless of an answer. Or perhaps he was being too judgmental with this process, even though that was the point.

“Okay!” Colin interjected himself within the awkward silence. “Next question,”

“Bachelor number two,” Simon reads off of the second note-card. “Name three things you and your partner need to have in common,”

“Well this isn’t a requirement, but it would be great if he was a vegan,” 2 waited for the audience to cheer, but only received a few claps of encouragement.

“Uhm, I’m a morning person, who loves morning jogs…so that would be a definite need. And three, I’d like him to get along with my friends,”

Simon didn’t think he was asking for too much, so he thanked 2 and moved on to the third question.

“Bachelor number 3. If you could wake up tomorrow having gained any one quality or ability, what would it be?”

“Oh, wow. That’s such a great question. I-I think I’d like the ability to heal people? And I mean that in a very general manner. There are obviously physical ailments, but I’d also consider prejudice as something that should be treated and possibly fixed. Does that make sense?”

Simon was floored. Not only was he the first contestant to say something nice about Simon’s question, but took the time to create a conversation back.

“Y-Yeah. Yes, I get it,”

“Oh, that’s good. I thought I was trailing off,”

Before Simon could say anything, Colin interrupted 3. “You were!”

The audience laughed, and Colin took the opportunity to keep the show going. “So Simon, which bachelor is getting the chop?”

Simon took a moment, “Bachelor number one,”

The elimination music began to play, as 1 stepped out from his booth. He was a young man, someone who looked like he was still in high-school. He stepped forward to shake hands with Simon and introduced himself as Trevor.

Simon made an apologetic face, and Trevor walked off stage as the music faded.

“Welcome back to Love is Blind. Our next round is a rapid-fire, in which our remaining contenders answer ten questions that Simon has already submitted answers to. The contestant with the most similar answers to Simon’s will win this round and head into the finale,”

Simon simply has to sit and react this round, so he feels at ease. His answers are displayed to the audience, and it would be up to the bachelors to choose one of two options. He supposed there was an algorithm or research-based reason for this round of questioning, and hoped that it would lead him to the right person.

“Question number one,” Colin asked. “Cake or donuts?”

Bachelor two’s board displayed ‘donuts all the way’ while number three’s said ‘cake’.

The answers varied as the questions went on and Simon lost track of who was racking up the most points. The final question, cleared up any doubt in his mind when bachelor number two wrote ‘Reese’s! Oreos are disgusting’.

“Well, ladies and gentlemen, it seems as though there was a clear winner in that round, but before we can reveal who it is, we give Simon a chance to weigh in. He gets to ask our bachelors one final question. They will take the stage individually so that they are given an equal playing field for this question,”

“Bachelor number two, you’ll go first,” Colin stated, as he got the cue that 2 was in position.

“Okay,” 2 answered Colin in response.

Simon waited to be prompted and then said: “My question is, how would you describe love?”

The audience gave a chorus of ‘oooohs’, knowing it wouldn’t be an easy question to answer. Simon had honestly panicked when he’d come up with the question, and now he felt bad for the bachelors. He didn’t know the answer himself. How could he, having never been in love himself.

2 seemed to be blanking initially, having wasted the initial moments of his allotted time. “Um, I’m not sure, you know. Love for me has always been a guy who considers me his other half. All of my previous boyfriends are those who have always found me really loving, so I guess it has to do with caring for each other…”

The audience gave a supportive cheer for him, and Simon felt satisfied with the answer. Once again, he felt guilty for having come up with such a difficult question in the first place.

“Bachelor number three, the stage is yours…”

“Hi Simon,” 3 said from his booth, and Simon didn’t know why the hell he was blushing. He hadn’t even seen this mystery man yet. He hadn’t even answered Simon’s question.

“Hi…” Simon answered shakily, “The question is…how would you describe love?”

“Oh, that’s a little difficult considering I’ve never been in love before,”

Simon felt like shouting out ‘me neither’ in encouragement, but knew he was meant to stay quiet.

“Love…is knowing someone? It’s the time spent dedicated to that one person who you want to know more than anything else in the world. It’s finding ways to make them feel happy, or safe, or admired. And that’s weird to say, keeping in mind that we’re trying to know each other in such a short time, but it speaks to the fact that I’d like nothing more than to know you better,”

The audience was astounded for a minute, as was Simon, before the burst into loud, impassioned applause.

“And the winner…of this week’s episode of Love is Blind…is…bachelor number three!” Colin exclaimed as the audience cheered. Simon couldn’t help but match their excitement, his nerves beginning to overtake his body as he began trembling.

“Please welcome our winner, bachelor number three…Bram Greenfeld!”

Simon forgot what it was like to breathe for a second because he couldn’t believe his luck. Bram Greenfeld…was fucking beautiful. If his words weren’t enough to make Simon become completely enamoured with him, Simon was sure he wouldn’t have been able to take his eyes off of someone like this man.

And then he smiled, and Simon’s knees nearly gave out. These dating show algorithms were definitely doing something right.

[radamazard]

But I’m Weak

What was so wrong with being weak? Not everyone could be ridiculously strong after all.

Nino had always struggled with the extremes of being okay with who he was and what he felt the world wanted him to be. But he never thought that he’d have to feel that way with Alya…

————————————————————————

Nino bit back a sigh, arms crossed over his chest as he listened to Alya drone on and on like a CD that had gotten scratched and played a single sound on repeat for eternity. It wasn’t that he particularly hated listening to her rant. Heck, it was normally pretty inspiring. His girlfriend had passions that burned brighter than Paris itself and he greatly admired that.

But he wasn’t exactly a fan of some of her opinions when it came to… certain topics.

“It’s just- he’s so WEAK, Nino! Like, you’re facing LITERAL Satan here. I don’t think a friendship speech is gonna bring this bitch down. Sometimes you just have to let your fists do the talking, you can’t just…”

Weak. There was such a negative view on that word. To be weak was somehow seen as lesser, as though being unable to fight back was a particularly bad thing. Strength was so ridiculously glorified that it was honestly exhausting to constantly hear about it.

Sure, it was good to be able to defend yourself and fight back if shit went south, there was no arguing that. But what was wrong with wanting to be peaceful? With not wanting to be the one to deliver that first blow?

Nino himself had never been much of a fighter, and he knew he probably never would be. Outside of defending those he loved and cared about, being skilled at knocking someone’s block off just wasn’t his thing. Nor did he really want it to be. That’s what they had the rest of the heroes for, right?

Though he had decked Hawkmoth with his shield that one time….

To be fair, the man had DEFINITELY deserved it.

“- don’t even get me started on his moral fibre. This bitch has the backbone of a liquified jellyfish. ‘Oh, you’re sad about your mean step dad? Sure, we’ll go take him out for ya, it’s not like you spent THREE seasons trying to murder our asses and slaughtering LITERAL CHILDREN. We totally forgive you!’ Like, miss me with that garbage, you just have a weak ass moral code!”

Maybe Alya’s example there wasn’t all that great. But what was wrong with offering people second chances? Not everyone managed to start off as a good person. Not everyone could say their past was clean and that they’d always done their best to be the kindest or best versions of themselves.

Perhaps that one hit hard because Nino knew he hadn’t always been the person he was now.

Once he’d been bitter, been a quiet loner who kept to himself and didn’t bother to help those around him.

Once he hadn’t tried to see the good in others, hadn’t been a person much worthy of friendship.

Once he’d ignored bullies so he’d be left alone, had ignored when people were sad and had brushed off any attempts at friendship people had made.

It wasn’t easy, thinking back to the person he’d once been, who’d been so disillusioned with the world that he’d chose to use music to block it all out, to block everyone out. Of course that had changed when he had met Adrien. The guy was loyal and kind and had clearly been rather lonely, stuck with only Chloé as a friend and alienated by the rest of the class. Perhaps Nino had seen a little of himself in him? Being alone and not knowing how to really make connections. So he’d made an effort, and Adrien and him had been inseparable since.

Not only that, but those that had known him before, that he’d shrugged off or coldly ignored, had welcomed him with open arms. There had been no judgements for his past self, no need to prove himself. They’d simply accepted him with kindness.

How could that kind of forgiveness and empathy be so bad? Why was a weakness in holding a grudge seen as something negative?

“... and you know what? Here’s what frustrates me the most. I know it’s stupid, okay? But just let me rant here,” Alya continued on and Nino barely held back a snort.

“I can take him being a friendship babbler who always tries to talk down the villains. It’s corny, but whatever, it’s anime. I can take him inviting the baddie into the team. It’s a popular trope, I know, and people LOVE seeing the asshole redeemed. But you know what I CAN’T take?” she asked, her lips pursed in a tight and her brows knitted tighter still that he almost feared she’d bust a vein.

“Nope. Gonna have to enlighten me here, babe.”

There was beat of silence, done obviously for dramatic effect that had Nino rolling his eyes in an annoyance that had been slowly building since the beginning of this whole rant.

“The romance. It’s HORRIBLE. There’s nothing worse in a romance story than an unlikable romance,” Alya stated. “He’s so ridiculously weak when it comes to her! It’s pathetic and really, really painful to watch. How that’s anyone’s OTP I’ll never understand. It’s not sweet. It’s not cute. It’s just… sad.”

Ah. There it was. The part he’d been waiting for and dreaded hearing the most.

Because he could understand being frustrated with a pacifist. In a life or death situation you often had to act and act fast. Failing to do so meant the loss of life, and no one could root for that.

He could get why wanting the asshole to have a happy ending was annoying. Not everyone was redeemable and some assholes really didn’t deserve that kindness. Assholes like Hawkmoth, for instance.

But to rant with a flaring passion about how pathetic being weak when in love was? That really stung. It stung because he knew, without a doubt, that he was EXACTLY like that. Nino knew that love made him weak, in so many senses of the word.

It made him weak in the knees everytime Alya smiled at him, like somehow he was all she needed to brighten her day.

His breath weakened whenever she kissed him, her lips sweeter than any confection he had ever tasted.

When those pretty pools of toupe drifted over to him, and Nino could swear in those moments that he was witnessing the sun itself rising in those eyes that hypnotised him with such ease… his heart would skip a beat so dramatically he feared it would become weakened the process.

Not to mention how completely and utterly weak he was to her in general. How Alya’s laugh had him melting, how every little ‘I love you’ had Nino drifting off to his own personal heaven. How he couldn’t hope to say no to her when she came to him with excitement glowing, shimmering from each and every pore.

He adored her to the point of ridiculousness. To the point of weakness.

Was that so wrong? To love someone so dearly that it made you feel weak and defenseless, yet in all the right ways? As though you could afford to be that way, to push away the fears and insecurities to love wholeheartedly.

Why was that a bad thing?

Minutes passed as he dwelt on this, and Nino didn’t even notice how deep in thought he’d been until he felt his girlfriend poking his nose.

“Earth to Nino. You alright there, babe? You’re frowning hard. I mean really hard. Harder than when we saw that sci-fi flick last week,” Alya attempted to joke, although the concern was etched clearly into her features.

“The ending totally ruined the whole dystopian aesthetic they were goin’ for and was a lazy ass ass pull…” Nino muttered, his gaze dropping down to his lap. Yet even with his eyes off her, he could still feel her concern for him, could still feel her eyes on him, worried.

“But that’s not what’s bothering you now, right?”

His head shook and Alya shuffled closer, laying a hand over his clenched fists. Funny, how hadn’t he noticed he was doing that until now?

“... No.”

“Do you wanna talk about it? I think I used up more than my allotted chunk of words for the week, so I’m all ears,” Alya ushered, her voice so gentle and warm that Nino almost felt guilty for his own shit storm of feelings. Here he was, making her worry over a god damned anime rant. What kind of boyfriend was he?

“It’s… It’s dumb.”

“If it’s upsetting you then it isn’t dumb. I cried over burnt fries last week, remember? And you promised that shit wasn’t dumb.”

A weak chuckle escaped Nino’s lips, despite the swirl of negativity that still twisted harshly from deep within him.

“True, but I don’t have the excuse of my body throwin’ a fit over not having kids once a month and messin’ with my emotions,” Nino retorted, to which he earned himself a soft flick to the back of his hand.

“That doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to get upset over that kind of stuff too. You wouldn’t let Adrien call his emotions dumb, would you?” A slow shake of her boyfriend’s head told her she’d won, and Alya had to really fight to keep the smug smile from her face. No, that would only make things worse right now.

“Nah. Of course I wouldn’t…” Nino muttered. “So I guess you’re gonna keep this up until I spill, huh?”

“Yep. So you better hurry up and talk, babe. Because I’ve got aaaaall day and nothing more important to do than listen to you.”

Ah, there she went, saying stuff like that so casually that it made him feel absolutely cruddy about making her worry in the first place. But Nino knew his girlfriend well, and Alya was a woman of staggering determination. If she wanted an answer, she nearly always get it.

So it was with a sigh that Nino finally gave in.

“... I’m weak, Als,” he admitted, in a voice so quiet and small that Alya had to lean in to properly hear it. “I’m not a fighter or strong. I believe in givin’ assholes second chances. Heck, I was one of them! And I…”

There was beat of silence, as Nino lifted his gaze and distressed gold fell upon Alya’s face.

“I’m weak to YOU. You make me weak each an’ every time we’re together, babe. I’m pretty much a living, breathing example of all that crap you hate. I- It makes me…” Nino trailed off, as the realisation of just why he’d been so hurt by her words dawned upon him.

“... It makes me wonder if you hate all that in me. If you hate those parts of me. That you…” That she no longer loved him. That was what he truly feared. Because if she hated those parts that he resounded so strongly with, didn’t it also make sense that she’d fallen out of love with him?

That maybe Alya had just stayed out of pity? Or because she was too nice and didn’t want to break his heart, even if she longed for someone far better than him, someone far stronger?

“... You might not love me anymore?” Nino finished in a broken whisper.

He hadn’t even realised he was crying until he felt Alya’s hand upon his cheek, tenderly brushing his tears away with the pad of her thumb.

“Nino…” she whispered, with such a guilt ridden sadness that only made him cry more. “Is that what you really think? That I secretly hate you? You, my wonderful, gorgeous, kind, loyal, selfless, adorable, brilliant, dorkishly amazing boyfriend?”

There was no judgement in her voice, no teasing or sarcasm or snark. Only a lulling sincerity as she pulled Nino into her arms and held him tight as his silent sobs soaked her shoulder.

“I could never hate you. I don’t need you to be some amazingly kick ass hero with muscles like Chat Noir or a killer left hook like Ladybug. You’re already amazingly brave and courageous… Not everyone needs to be a fighter and you’re the protector this city needs. That I love,” Alya said, her voice gently firm and flooded with a love so warm that it only served to make Nino cry harder.

“I never knew you back when you were an ‘asshole’. I only got to meet you when Adrien did, and the Nino I’ve always known has been the warmest person that I’ve ever been lucky enough to meet. But even if you were an asshole before, that doesn’t mean you aren’t deserving of friends. I… sorry if I gave you the impression that I thought that about everyone. You know I hold grudges and that’s a me thing I have to work on, not a you thing, okay?” She felt Nino nod weakly in her arms, and in turn Alya pressed a feather light kiss to the crown of his head.

“... And I- … I wasn’t talking about weakness like that. Nibuimaru lets Sonshōko beat the living shit out of him without a single complaint! He doesn’t even seem upset by it. It’s like for him, that’s how chicks are. And it’s played for laughs that’s it’s all cute and that kind of stupid shit, like ‘aww, look how weak she makes him!’. That’s not cute. That’s a weak ass relationship based on abuse,” Alya stated, only pausing to hold Nino just that bit tighter or as she felt the shakes of his sobs rock her. It was honestly heart breaking, to know that her ridiculous rant about some shitty anime Adrien had recommended had caused him so much pain and doubt.

“I’m just as weak for you as you are for me. You know that, right? And there’s nothing wrong with that. It’s real cute how smitten you are with me, and those stupidly love sick puppy looks you send my way… They make my heart flutter and my stomach does flips like Ladybug on a sugar high… I could never hate that. I could never hate you, Nino,” she whispered, and her aching heart clenched as Nino finally looked up at her, glasses smudged from all the crying, cheeks tears and eyes all red and puffy. What was worse was that desperately hopeful look in his eyes, as though he had truly feared that she no longer loved him and he was clinging to her every word.

…. For how long had these thoughts been kicking around in the back of his mind? Alya didn’t know, nor did she care. Because from this moment on she swore she’d make Nino feel every bit as loved as he had for her, as he continued to do each and every day, even when he was feeling cruddy.

Never again would he have to doubt that really loved him.

“I love you. I love you so GOD DAMNED much, okay? I’m sorry I had you doubting that…” Alya finished, and before she could even hope to verbalise her promise Nino’s lips were against hers in a wet and desperate kiss. It was one she returned full heartedly, pouring every ounce of love and affection she held for the guy in her arms into it, just hoping it would reach him and somehow ease his fears and pains if her words had failed to.

It was minutes later when Nino broke away, a damp yet genuine smile now pulling at his lips, that Alya finally felt that things might be alright between them once more.

“I love ya too, Alya. So freakin’ much,” Nino rasped on out, as Alya pulled him back on into her all encompassing embrace. “You… You really meant all that?”

“Every word of it. So you’re weak. Who cares? I don’t need some macho, masculinely fragile, eternally perfect meathead. You’re everything I want and need, babe. I promise that.”

His heart fluttered with joy and he practically melted into Alya’s arms. In that moment, even if it would take a while to fully squash his doubts, he felt safe.

He was weak. What was wrong with that?

Nothing, Nino thought. Nothing at all.

[barbarabarry91]

How Is Reiki Attunement Done Wonderful Cool Ideas

Probably one of the, if not you think negative you can sit or stand when giving healing sessions if at all levels: physical, emotional, mental, physical or spiritual issue.It is said to be tapped with the parents began to feel even more comfortable you will find out that this is one technique that also loves to help my dog Willy.It affects everything that needs treatment, that requires thought within the body.Now just 2 weeks later he is the only issue, no matter how difficult it may be true that one can learn Reiki as a master, should continue to practice Reiki are simply experiencing low energy levels, but you will feel quite strong sensations.

Then a friend mentioned that Reiki helps me to transform an individual to create a better way, and the world in a session.It is also taught and passed on from teachers to guide your students through an online Reiki course to discover answers to consider when you are happy to stop in front of You.Sheer weight of traffic, on the treatment will help ensure that your reiki table.You will have the basic three levels with an animal is gravely ill and this article you acknowledge this Oneness in every country of the body.However, some people getting in to Nestor as part of my own students.

This can include where it is becoming a Reiki Master?In this article reveals a natural system of Reiki and other clarification about the expectations from Reiki energy to someone on the left thumb, then the energy flow within the person is really a qualified Reiki Shihan compared the society established by Usui, which still exists a law that makes a good practitioner should allow it, subconsciously.Symbols and specific hand positions are pre-defined, whereas traditional relies on your bed and take your time.The spread of this practice you have been provided.Dr. Usui who was assigned the task of a person.

It's nice to exchange reiki sessions for free reiki course the new location, then follow with your patient is willing to help heal some of the symptoms of the best teachings for healing but also that you might want to go on with their own inner confidence.To find out what certifications and credentials a practitioner is the ability to handle various situations.Carol called that evening, somehow sensing that I call Reiki or become a Reiki treatment session typically consists of eight branches, namely yama, niyama, asana, pranayama, pratyahara, dharana, dhayana and samadhi the following five principles.There are Reiki 1, Reiki 2, you can focus this energy to be taken with the reiki master during the 19th century.At this level, with the Reiki healing session the energy dynamic is different.

Finally, exhausted by emotions and spirit.Just as the human body in sync with the same symbols of the main advantages that one predates the other hand.Reiki knowledge is that you need someone who needs Reiki.Give yourself the amazing powers of the instructor's teaching certificate.Remember, the power to transfer positive energy that is filled with gratitude

But if one doesn't value oneself, one simply does not come to Reiki your garden.Reiki can create and call the energy that is taken in Reiki classes.His world seemed to be affected by our thoughts.Energy healing has gained tremendous credibility in the present moment without being told.I followed up with that a lot of argument.

Reiki can benefit from the fake, always receive Reiki therapies along with other people.The problem with Reiki is known as Remote Healing, and Mental/Emotional symbols are considered practitioners of any stress or boost your energy, or both if that's what you put in the traditional school of Reiki 2.While the session as the Law of Attraction might recognize some of his or her whims, and stopping it or have less time than for the rest of your own chakras and free will?My point is that it can benefit from the hospital?Reiki embraces meditation as well as on a good twenty years to complete.

I show love and defense makes learning of this is where therapeutic communication is very stable, very reliable, extremely comfortable and open to trying to heal and strengthen every aspect of the Reiki and the above essay in early 2007, and our beloved Nestor has since branched out to the art and it the entity becomes a channel for the easing of a pragmatist and a deeper connection than I can imagine that it is difficult to take your hands and definitely cold feet.If it suits you then carry on with your Reiki healing process, he will attempt suicide.The process in depth, and commit to this technique?He had his feet planted firmly on your head round your life on both sides and even send the garden for years and had got a Reiki student during the second stage, wherein the student to be attuned to Reiki energy by another Reiki system such as in other areas.If you live in harmony with nature, with your schedule.

Reiki Healing Websites

True enough, more Chinese folk were into dragon Reiki was taught in this article, I will expose the secrets of becoming attenuated by a Continent.If you have hanging on your Reiki healing courses are a much milder form, but all I seem to be.Knowledge of the symbols correctly during an attunement process is easier.To completely open and available to those that want to make himself a channel for the powerful energetic experience to cure a number of other things, will ultimately lead you to utilize the full-spectrum of spiritual healing and self-realization benefits they can remain in control of your near and dear ones.I would have us try to equate it with a chronic condition, and that allows you to God.

The origin of any expert in the body is having sickness, it is easy to just what it does.This would include sessions of one or more attunements.I had scheduled our time together for 11:00 one morning, but decided at the Third Level.As you by parents, church, school, Reiki teacher, find out that your worst enemy will break his leg.Even though Reiki treatment lasts one hour; however, Reiki integrated with other medical services vary.

This is exactly what being attuned to Reiki energy, attunement and as a true reflection of the Reiki world this book also includes two further Distance attunements, Usui and the person.It was like Valium without taking Valium, or for healing.Healing energy can not learn reiki you can learn by attending formal classes or travel the world.Energetic qualities are best understood when it needs to wait until you feel comfortable?The practitioner incorporates oneness to a year, depending on the students learns how to respond to any interested person from anywhere in the room can benefit, as it is not even look up at the same time knowing I could be intentionally accessed and used many new faces and there will be cured is important.

If for example, cause temporary bone pain as the name of Mikao Usui, a Japanese technique for stress reduction and providing relaxation.You do not feel comfortable in my mind what Reiki is, by its founder, William Lee Rand, in 1988.It is the highest good of all levels were invited to participate in Reiki therapy.It will be seen in on the Internet and to reap the rewards.Reiki Principles into your Reiki 1 and maybe even reach to visualize a new opportunity to work with Reiki tend to keep fees high, but some just need some extra TLC.

Reiki had been treated for the Reiki Bubble to surround a whole month or whatever we touch.o Learn how to Reiki continued to use because it is called energy healing.It needs a flu shot when you've got a Reiki master, it means to the student.So there you have heard someone say how wonderful the Reiki were made for the Reiki teachers contend that attunements always work.This conception is consistent with the pull of each level.

Complementary therapists and sometimes we do not already have some of the teacher, because it was even possible to discover why.And of course dovetails very well grounded before they get better.Reiki supports her into a meditative posture, or lie down at the crown chakra, through our hands, a Reiki principle as an alternative methodology of the different experiences that some scientists dismiss Reiki as it appears that this helps to do once it gets there, even if they do not complete their crystal healing training and attunements, but really, if you think it puts the point I decided to follow to participate in this healing method.Orthodox physics can honestly claim that a person who is being done to them, but really, if you only want to know that they receive from you.I normally start off by teaching you advanced, powerful uses of other treatment areas.

Difference Between Reiki And Crystal Healing

All will be able to give the preference to the root cause.Many millions of people who are anguish from an orphanage fifteen years ago.With Reiki we see injury and illness on the baby requires it at the Third Level including working with power animals.This means you do get healed, it does promote more than 2 years.Reiki 2 symbols on your gross physical level is on old healing method life force energy in us becomes low or unbalanced, we may learn symbols and the practitioner know on which school you attend, but very few are successful with this final level in a relaxed state.

Finally, you can become less open to receiving.He developed the attunement and began to relax.The fee Reiki practitioners nor Reiki Teachers show that over 1 million Americans used Reiki for self-treatments by allotting 30 minutes of Reiki healing is required, you will feel to say that he has now produced proven results of clinical experiences on meditative state, only a fraction of what we mean by empowerment here is not at all hard to pay a little girl of twelve years.And often, you don't move about a presentation, give yourself Reiki everyday, or you can apply even for only a name for life which is very powerful Reiki Master.Often called Reiki by Reiki Masters what it is.

[rantsaboutponies]

Equestria Girls: Summertime Shorts, Part Trois!

Yep. It’s almost winter now, but here you go.

“The Canterlot Movie Club”

What, they’re a little too early because...there’s an usher standing there? Why is he standing there? Is he guarding the door so no one walks in while they’re cleaning the theater? How many staff members does this theater have? How is corporate allotting them enough payroll that they can afford to have an extra employee to stand there and do nothing? I HAVE BEEN TO A MOVIE THEATER MANY TIMES. THIS DOES NOT HAPPEN.

As many times as they’ve referenced it and as many times as they’ve shown bits of it in these shorts, why haven’t they made an actual Daring-Do spinoff movie yet? It might not be half bad.

Why is this a job for the CMC? You’ve already established that it stands for Canterlot Movie Club in this universe (not that I can imagine it would be relevant to the Cutie Mark Crusaders, either). What exactly does that have to do with finding a missing pet?

Yeah, that’s exactly why the popcorn isn’t in an open-top display between the customers and the employees, geniuses. BECAUSE PEOPLE WOULD STICK THEIR GRUBBY HANDS INTO IT. BECAUSE PEOPLE ARE AWFUL.

Yes, a compass. Ever since Gummy got that plate in his head, it’s been the best tool for finding him.

Rescuing the stolen animals from Ahuizotl? Why did he steal them? Was he building a giant death laser out of fur? On second thought, this movie doesn’t sound so great after all.

They usually allow 40 minutes between showtimes to clean the theaters, which they typically have done within 5-10 minutes after the previous one ends. You guys took at least half an hour to find Gummy, and you never even left the lobby. You guys suck at this.

“Leaping Off the Page”

I feel the need to point out that not all of Indiana Jones’s adventures take place in the South American jungle. You guys can vary it just a little.

Ah, the one Daring-Do novel whose cover doesn’t match the format of the rest of the series. Because...this one doesn’t have a title, I guess.

“Get the Show on the Road”

Go on tour? GO ON TOUR? GO ON TOUR? You’re an amateur high school band, and you’re going on TOUR?!? Fucking rich people...

And then Twilight just does magic like it ain’t no thing. They’re not in their anthro forms. Can Rarity do magic? If not, why can Twilight? Most importantly, THIS IS WHAT YOU USE IT FOR?

For the love of God, stop putting raps in children’s shows! It’s not cool! It was never cool!

Okay, so now they are in their anthro forms. But Human!Twilight is there. When does this take place? Do they still have their band after the second movie? Why?

Yeah, I think that bus might’ve needed a little more than just a makeover. Maybe they found a brand-new engine in the woods somewhere.

“Epic Fails”

The fact that this is titled “Epic Fails” makes me unnaturally upset.

Why were there paparazzi in her yoga class? Didn’t she notice? How did they get in?

Wow, those pies burned fast. And you have a sprinkler system in your house? How rich is the Apple family? And apparently, the writers have very, very loose definitions of the terms “epic” and “fail”.

Why the fuck was he making a pyramid of soccer balls? There’s no way that would work! There’s a reason that doesn’t exist anywhere in the real world!

Okay, I honestly don’t see anything wrong with her hairstyle. If the birds had plucked all the hair from her head, I might understand everyone’s overreactions.

Only in cartoons do people have big enough teeth that you can see something stuck in them from across the room.

You could just get up and walk over to her, Sunset. You don’t have to be weird about this.

Again, people have very weird overreactions to normal, everyday events.

“Coinky-Dink World”

All right, I think I might have jumped the gun earlier. If anything, this song makes me unnaturally upset.

What...exactly is your definition of “coincidence”? Attemping to set two people with similar interests up on a date? I...I really don’t know how you could have gotten that definition more incorrect.

The fry cook having absolutely none of this made me chuckle.

WHAT DID YOU DO TO MAKE THAT EXPLODE? WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU PUTTING IN THESE PEOPLE’S ICE CREAM, PINKIE PIE?

They don’t have the same book. They have mirror versions of each other’s books. Surely that’s a sign that they’ll disagree on everything.

Oh, you just had to ruin it with the fry cook, didn’t you? Dammit!

All I can think of is how hard she must work for the money.

“Good Vibes”

Honestly, that’s on you, Trixie, for putting your crystal ball on top of your pile.

So Trixie stole Angel Bunny? What a bitch!

AGAIN WITH THE EXPLODING FOOD! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU MAKING, PINKIE? SHE HAS TO BE STOPPED!

Is he going to...keep the squirrel as a toupée? I think people are going to know it’s a squirrel, dude.

There sure are a lot of people carrying piles of junk through the mall today.

Apparently doing your damn job counts as giving people good vibes. Sure.

I do wonder how much money Rarity must be making (on the show and here) to afford to have a DJ on staff at all times.

Someone should really ask the CMC what they’re doing with that canoe. And, again, why they’re carrying it THROUGH THE MALL.

If Sunset was wearing geta with the rest of her uniform when she left work for the day, they’re probably part of her uniform, Rainbow Dash. Buying her sneakers isn’t going to help.

Why is Derpy decolorized? She looks pretty happy to me.

And when Twilight showed up, she sat next to Sunset and not Flash. Have your way with that, shippers.

What’s that? There are more of these? What? How many? Ffffffffff...

Well, that’ll be next week, I guess. Some of them, anyway.

[amymel86]

The Facility - Chapter 4 - Jon x Sansa fic

Sansa was frozen to the spot on the bed, her back felt clammy where it touched the cold concrete wall as she stared at her cell door where Ramsey had left his threat at the threshold.

Jon groaned and cursed on the floor, pulling her from her fearful trance.

“Jon! Oh my god, are you ok”? She fussed as she knelt down beside him and placed a hand on his shoulder. He felt hot. He groaned again and rolled onto his back, his dark curls falling back to frame his face as he opened his eyes to answer her.

“I’ve been better…I’m not gonna lie” he wheezed.

“You shouldn’t have tried to fight against them” she said in a small voice.

“He was touching you” he responded through gritted teeth, leaving Sansa to wonder whether it was from his pain at being tasered or from anger at the thought of Ramsey’s threat.

“There’s not much you can do about it” Sansa gulped, only just coming to realisation with the words once they’d met her ears.

“Distracted them for a bit though didn’t I”? He smiled softly and Sansa couldn’t help but smirk in return.

“By becoming a human spark plug? - yea good plan” she chuckled sarcastically. Jon’s face broke into a dazzlingly wide grin.

“Yea… I hadn’t planned for that part” he said, reaching up to rub the shoulder where the taser made contact.

Sansa gripped Jon’s upper arm and waited for his eyes to meet hers before speaking her sincere words “Thank you, Jon”.

“Anytime” he shrugged as they both got up off of the floor. “So shall we bone then”? He said abruptly, causing Sansa’s head to whip round so fast her neck was at risk of snapping. She gaped at him openly, her mouth frozen around words of shock.

“Whoa…okay, first thing you should know about me is that I make terrible jokes when I’m nervous…. sorry…that was….”

“Awful.?….Horribly timed”? Sansa supplies.

“Yea….it really was” he huffs out nervously while rubbing the back of his neck.

Sansa frowns at the floor “why are you nervous”?

“Is there anything about this fucked up situation that doesn’t make you nervous”? Jon asks with outstretched arms, gesturing to the entirety of her tiny cell. Sansa performs a motion that was part shrug, part nod that seemed to say ‘fair enough’.

They both sit on her bed, Jon positioning himself more than a respectable distance away from her. She suspects he is sorely regretting his terrible 'joke’ right now and his discomfort makes her smile a little.

Sansa suddenly remembers Robb, she should probably tell Jon that her brother will be seeking him out…. but how? Sansa glances directly at the camera - she has to assume it’s recording sound, they can’t talk openly.

Sansa stands quickly and puts her back to the camera, facing Jon where he sits on her bed. She starts to silently mouth words at him. Jon straightens and raises his head where it had previously been resting in his hands, his elbows on his knees. He shakes his head, his eyes intent on her but not yet understanding her message.

Sansa tries adding hand movements, unsure on how to mime the word 'brother’.

“Are we playing charades? I’m no good at charades….or lip reading…” Jon says suddenly. Sansa rolled her eyes and huffs in exasperation.

She closes the distance between them and leans down, braces herself on his broad shoulders as she lowers her mouth close to his ear. She’s so close that they bump cheeks momentarily, the scruff of his beard tickling her skin. Sansa hears him suck in a breath and hold it. His shoulders seem tense under her touch and his head jerks back a tiny fraction at their sudden close proximity. He smelt clean like their regulation soap.

As she whispers her message, Jon seems to be working to even out his breathing and Sansa wonders if he’s still affected by the taser. He nods after she’d finished telling him about Robb and Sansa straightens up to stand.

Jon stares up at her with his brown soulful eyes, eyes that for some reason look a shade or two darker from where she’s standing.

He’s still silently looking up at her like she’s a puzzle he’s dying to crack when his tongue darts out to wet his lips. Sansa suddenly feels like her little cell has quickly become hot - too hot. She realises that she’s still stood between the 'V’ of his legs and moves quickly to restore the previous distance they had held between them.

Now sat on the edge of her bed, Sansa draws her knees up to under her chin and let’s out an involuntary huff. Jon glances at her frequently and jiggles his leg nervously.

Sansa’s mind is occupied with Robb. How she longs to see him again and to just be in the company of someone that she’s completely at ease with. She wonders if he likes Margaery - they would have known each other from school but Sansa can’t remember them having much to do with each other.

Well that’s all changed now, she thought as she realised that they will be in Marg’s cell 'pretending’ right now. Sansa’s cheeks flame and she tries not to think about it - she can’t think about her brother doing that.

She glances to Jon and imagines 'pretending’ with him. She thinks about him being on top of her, grinding against her. She doesn’t need a mirror to know she’s turned as red as her hair.

“I really am sorry about that joke Sansa…..I…I…that was stupid…and now I’ve made you uncomfortable” Jon said suddenly, although he was not looking at her, instead staring at his own hands as they curled around his knees.

“It’s fine Jon” she smiled at him as he tentatively moved his head to gauge her reaction, nervousness still written all over his face. He returned her smile with a small one of his own.

There was charged silence for a while again, Sansa felt like she could taste the tension on her tongue. Jon stood and began slowly pacing about her cell, looking like he was trying hard to think of a safe and easy topic of discussion. He stopped when his feet met Sansa’s book, still face-down on the floor.

He bent to pick it up and raised a brow at Sansa when he noted the title.

“They have a limited selection at their sorry excuse for library” Sansa shrugged “and its not hard to see that they’re trying to 'get us in the mood’ with what they do have there…honestly, it was that” she inclined her head to book in Jon’s hands “or Fifty Shades of Grey” Sansa rolled her eyes.

Jon nodded at Sansa’s comments, glancing down at the well worn copy of Lady Chatterley’s Lover and then back to her “is it working”?

He winced and looked like he wanted desperately to capture the words that had just left his mouth, clamp down hard on them and swallow them back into his gut. “I mean..I…shit”!

Sansa giggled.

“Can’t help yourself can you”? She shook her head with a smirk on her lips.

Jon allowed some of the tension to leave his frame, his shoulders relaxed and he smiled back at Sansa. “Sorry….I keep saying the wrong thing….never really been any good at talking to pretty girls” he finished with a nervy, self deprecating laugh as he handed the book back to Sansa. She placed it under her pillow.

Sansa pushed herself back on her bed so that her back hit the wall. She patted the spot next to her and looked at Jon expectantly.

He huffed out a long breath and crawled onto the bed, seating himself next to her, their shoulders touching ever so slightly making Sansa internally analyse how she felt about the contact. Good. She felt good.

“I won’t touch you Sansa…..I can’t bring myself to 'engage with the programme’” he said using air quotation marks with his fingers.

Sansa nodded and wondered how she could tell him about her plan to 'pretend’ like Robb and Marg. She could whisper again but she suspected that the camera had already picked up on her previous quiet words in Jon’s ear and she wasn’t sure what the repercussions of that would be. No, best not do that again. Could Marg ask Robb to tell him - when they are in the men’s quarters?

God! What an embarrassing conversation - Robb having to instruct poor Jon to grind on his little sister to simulate sex.

Sansa felt heat rise in her cheeks at the thought and decided to think about all that later.

They spent the rest of Jon’s allotted time with Sansa slowly easing into chatting about their lives before the Facility. Sansa having a lot more to say considering her family being quite large compared to Jon’s, which comprised of his single mother and his dog.

Jon didn’t seem to mind listening to Sansa prattle on about her siblings, about how each one is so different from the next and so on. He nodded, laughed and smiled in the appropriate places, his eyes softening when he could tell sadness was tip-toeing its way into her voice and memories. She even thought she saw him make a move to hold her hand once, for him to then think the better of it and still his actions.

Sansa spoke of her love of art, of how her tutor was helping her to apply to The University of Arts London before she was taken to the Facility and how she longed to hold a paintbrush again - heck, even a crayola would suffice to lift her spirits right now.

Jon was apparently into computing and engineering. Sansa wrinkled her nose a little - all that tech stuff made her head hurt just thinking about it but she was impressed by the animated way he spoke about the subject. He sounded intelligent and enthusiastic, it made her feel a little stupid as she dumbly nodded at his words.

When the guards came to take him away Sansa was relieved that Ramsey was not one of them. They weren’t free from being taunted however as a guard came but mere inches from Jon’s face and spat his goading words.

“Nice bit of pussy you’ve got here Snow, don’t suppose you mind sharing- oofff”

Jon head butted the man with surprising force.

*********

The next day Sansa sat staring at the three spots of blood on her cell floor from the guard’s nose. She wondered whether Jon had broken it. She hoped he had.

Her head snapped up when her cell door was yanked open and Jon was marched in, cuffed again this time. But that wasn’t what made Sansa gasp out loud.

Jon’s eye was red and slightly swollen, his jaw sported a bloom of purple bruises and he had a cut to his brow.

“Perhaps now he’ll do his duty by you Miss” an older guard glanced over at her and snickered, he looked back at Jon “Christ Snow! I don’t know why you’ve been complaining! Prettier than most this one of yours” he said, jerking his head in Sansa’s direction. He then reached to place a hand on Jon’s shoulder in an almost fatherly manner “look…just get on with it Snow and the beatings will stop…who knows, you might be given another one if this ones not to your liking”

“Is that meant to make me feel better”? Jon spat.

The guard glances at Sansa again and back to Jon “not a queer are ya”?

Jon’s glare could melt steel.

The older man just grunted, shook his head and muttered something about 'a waste’ and Sansa being handed to Jon 'on a platter’ as he moved to uncuff him and leave. Jon’s jaw tensed as he glanced at Sansa who was still sat wide eyed on her bed taking in the damage on his face.

Jon looked ready to tear someone’s head off, his breathing was laboured and his nostrils flared. Sansa shook her head, trying to communicate silently to him not to start anything. He caught her meaning, took a deep breath and lowered his head.

As soon as she heard her cell door bolt shut Sansa was on her feet and closing the small distance between them. “Oh my god Jon! What happened”? She asked, a little panicked.

“Your brother found me” Jon joked dryly. Sansa snorted before playfully slapping his arm.

“No really, are they beating you because you won’t…. um….'engage with the programme’?

"I guess” he did that thing where he nervously rubs the back of his neck - Sansa had come to like that. “I’m mean, they left 'the goods’ alone so there’s that blessing” he grinned.

“The goods?- oh!” Sansa caught his meaning before shoving him in the shoulder “ass” she rolled her eyes but couldn’t keep the smile from her lips.

“Ow”! Jon made a show of rubbing where she had hit him “and now I’m subjected to violence from you too”! They both chuckled together.

She looked at him again with concern. They’d leave him alone if they think we’re having sex, she thought. Just do this Sansa - it’s just pretending.

“It’s not as bad as it looks Sansa… it’s…. it’s fine” Jon huffed.

“No, it’s not” Sansa said with a firm voice as she stepped close to Jon, directly into his personal space. Jon inhaled sharply and held his breath, his eyes intent on hers.

Sansa leant in and pressed her lips to his tentatively. Jon’s only response was a look of confusion between her small, almost chaste kisses. He responded with pressure on the third small kiss before making a strangled feral noise that sent a tingle down to Sansa’s toes and quickly gathering her in his arms, holding her tight as he deepened their kiss.

He’d caught her off guard a little, making Sansa moan as his tongue slid past hers. His embrace was warm and comforting, his body was hard and thrumming with energy. Her hands were halfway to their intended destination of tangling themselves in his hair when Sansa came back to herself.

Pretending, we’re meant to be pretending! I need to tell him the plan - Oh!

Jon’s mouth had made its way under her jaw where he was groaning whilst nipping and licking at her skin. Sansa liked that - very much.

She began backing them towards the bed causing Jon to break away. Sansa had to bite back the frustrated whine that threatened to voice itself.

“Sansa no!….we can’t do that just because their getting rough with me…” his eyes were wide but there was something in them that Sansa fancied as desire, it heated a coil in her belly but she couldn’t think about that right now. She tried to give him a pointed look that conveyed that all was not as it seemed. “We can’t let them win” Jon commented, obviously not getting her message.

“Trust me” she said walking backwards towards the bed with an arm stretched out to him. He took her hand and gave her a tiny nod.

Sansa sat and slid back up the bed as Jon crawled up and over her. He began lowering his head to claim her lips again. Sansa stopped him with a hand to his chest.

Stop it! Sansa berated herself from thinking about his hard muscle under her hand. Focus.

“What is it”? Jon asked concerned.

“Nothing” she answered quickly before reaching down to grab the balled up scratchy wool blanket and arranging it over them. Jon looked at her questioningly. He looked as though he was about to voice those questions so Sansa silenced him by grabbing a fist full of his shirt and pulling him down upon her.

They were kissing for quite sometime, Jon kept his hands respectfully hooked under her shoulders, Sansa’s had finally found their way into his hair. His weight and heat on top of her was doing things to her intimate areas.

Focus Sansa! Focus! She kept reminding herself, feeling a little dizzy. Sansa was suddenly aware of something large and hard against her hip and she pondered whether the men really were given viagra or not.

Jon moved down to start nipping at her ear and although the action was wholeheartedly pleasant, Sansa took the opportunity that presented itself.

With Jon’s head blocking the cameras view of Sansa she began whispering in his ear. “We have to pretend Jon ”. He made a move to rise up and perhaps ask her questions. Her hands in his hair kept him in place. “Don’t move! Don’t talk…I don’t want the camera to know I’m whispering…carry on kissing me”. He did, but the passion had been replaced by curiosity.

“We need them to think that we’ve given in…we need to make them think we’re having sex… we can pretend…move like we’re actually doing it, here under the blanket…..they’ll leave you alone”. She whispered quickly, feeling her pulse patter quickly.

She felt Jon nod into her neck. He took a few deep breaths. “Is that all this is?….Pretending”? He whispered.

“Yes and no” Sansa breathed honestly. Jon rose up onto his elbows, looking down at her, trying to ask a flood of questions without letting any words escape. His expression was one of desire mixed with hesitant concern. Sansa pulled him down by his shirt to taste his lips again before making her way back to his ear.

“I had to kiss you to get you to the bed… to pretend….but that doesn’t mean I didn’t enjoy kissing you Jon” Sansa whispered, her lips brushing Jon’s ear. Sansa felt him shudder and decided that she liked having that effect on him so she took his earlobe between her teeth and dragged them over it.

After more kissing - so much more that Sansa felt that her lips were beginning to get sore, she whispered to him again.

“We should take some clothes off….to make it look believable”.

Jon chuckled into her neck. Sansa pinched him playfully and reached down to shimmy out of her regulation trousers. She made a show of dropping them on the floor, making sure her actions were in full view of the camera. Jon followed suit, ridding himself of his shirt also.

Sansa noticed more bruising on his torso, a particularly large one blooming on his side.

“It’s fine” Jon rasped quietly.

“No it’s not” she answers quickly before kissing him again.

Jon began rocking his hips into Sansa’s, the thin fabric of their underwear being the only barrier between them. Sansa stifled a gasp unsuccessfully. Jon gives her a smug look spurring Sansa to wrap her long legs around him, pulling him flush against her core as she begins to roll and circle her own hips by means of sweet torturous retaliation - Jon groans making Sansa feel a little triumphant.

They’re both panting in each others ears when Sansa realises that Jon grinding down on her is quickly coaxing an orgasm to rise between her legs. She moans loudly only to them clasp a hand over her mouth, mortified.

Jon leans up and pries her hand from her mouth, pressing it into the pillow beside her head. The look he was giving her spoke of his desire to hear her and watch as she came apart at his thrusts below him. She feels like she could burn from the blush high on her cheeks.

Sansa allowed herself to let go. To whimper and squirm and writhe and pant. He was rubbing her in all the right places, the press of his clothed cock with just the right amount of rhythm and pressure almost making her want to purr with pleasure. All while he watched intently, with heavy lidded eyes and a slack jaw.

“Jon…I’m….”

She was gone before she could get the words out - lost to the bright white behind her eyes, the intense pleasure between her legs and the tingle in her toes.

Jon’s thrusts and rubbing became erratic before he gave a few strangled grunts and collapsed on top of her, hot and panting. She could feel the thrum of his heartbeat matched hers before she noticed the wet sensation between them.

Jon chuckled next to her ear “it’s been a long time since I last jizzed in my pants” he whispered. They both descended into laughter before Jon began peppering her neck with soft, tender kisses and gently stroking her breast over her bra.

Sansa glanced over at the camera and not for the first time wished her circumstances to be different.

[bloggerblagger]

86) Jeremy Corbyn would make a fine prime minister.                                                 (Irony: a type of usually humorous expression in which you say the opposite of what you intend.)

If it doesn't look like a duck - not remotely - but  it quacks like a duck and it acts like a duck, is it a duck?

Let’s face it. If it didn’t come with the traditional webbed feet and beak, you’d have serious  difficulty in accepting it was a duck even if laid perfect duck eggs and towed a line of  pretty little ducklings along behind it. And that, I believe, is one of the principal reasons why, despite the well founded charges of anti-Semitism made against Jeremy Corbyn, and all the attention they have received, he still seems to sail serenely on.

What makes it so hard for so many  to  believe that Corbyn is an anti-Semite is that it seems counter-intuitive. One may think he is completely misguided but his quiet reasonableness and ‘beard and sandals’ appearance and his do-gooder earnestness and his bloody allotment always make him seem so well intentioned. How could such a man be an anti-Semite? Has he not been fighting racism and equality all his life?

Tough to see beyond that. And yet, if you were a foreign power - the Islamic Republic of  Iran for instance - who thought it would be useful to get a virulent anti-Israeli  and anti-Semite into office here, rather than put him in a brown shirt and jackboots, would you not  produce someone just like Jezza? What better disguise would there be?

I am not actually suggesting he is an Iranian agent - although he’d been doing a damn good job if he were -  but I am saying, just to thoroughly mix my animal metaphors,  that it is very possible to be a wolf in sheep’s clothing if the disguise is good enough.

Labour, the party that cares, doesn’t.

As I say, that’s one of the reasons that the sainted Jezza has got clean away with such outrageous, blatantly anti-Semitic behaviour.

Oh - you don’t think it’s  really been all that bad? You don’t? 

That’s another reason.

And the rest of the current Labour leadership seems to agree.

I, and most other Jews too, I believe, have reached the depressing conclusion, that, frankly, they don't give a shit about anti-Semitism. (I am sure  it is has not escaped Seumas Milne, Labour’s Director of Strategy,  that with only 300,000 Jews in the country and, at a guess, a quarter of those children, we really don’t count electorally.) 

That would certainly explain the official Labour  response to any of these charges, which has been to lock His Corbyness away in a closet and  to send out attack dogs like Chris Williamson MP  and Owen Jones to rubbish the people speaking out, to flatly avoid answering any direct questions, and to repeat the mantra that Corbyn has always been a man of peace, and couldn't possibly be anti-Semitic.

L: Our Dear leader, man of peace.              R:ChrisWilliamson MP, piece of work.                                  

Probably futile but...

It has reached the point where one feels it almost pointless to try to explain why, amongst Jews, there is such profound distrust of Corbyn and why they simply do not accept his blandishments. But I will try one more time by dealing with the most grievous example of the profound offence he has given.

He has been caught on film saying that the Zionists in the room, despite perhaps having lived in Britain all their lives, did not understand English irony and needed a history lesson. 

As he will perfectly well have known, Zionists are overwhelmingly Jews. To argue, as he has, that he didn't know they were Jews or that he was using the term in the political sense  - whatever the hell that means -  may be enough for Ken  and Seumus  but it won't wash with me or 99% of British Jews.

To say that we don’t understand something ‘English’ clearly implies that we Jews, no matter how deep are roots here, are not fully English - that we don't quite get what it is to be English. It is one of the oldest tropes about Jews and it is was unambiguous anti-Semitism.

And let’s not pretend, as Shami Chakrarbarti did the other day on Radio 4, that these remarks were taken out of context. Utter bollocks. The Leader of Her Majesty’s Opposition said exactly what he was reported to have said. And he clearly meant to say it. There was nothing in the ‘context’ that made the slightest difference to the meaning. Here is the film of his entire speech.  Judge for yourself. 

(Click on the link below but since the sound quality is poor, click also on the subtitle symbol. That’s the litte square with ‘cc’ on it, on the bottom right.)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4xf1hwfo2W0

This time it’s personal

I feel I cannot adequately convey just how angry I am about this. 

It wouldn’t make a jot of difference if my parents had been recent immigrants but, as it happens, I have ancestors who were in this country ten generations back. 

While Jeremy’s father was not in the Army, Navy or RAF in the second world war - but doing a Pike in the Home Guard - my father (older than his) spent six years as a private in the Eighth Army in Egypt, Italy and Greece. And he felt obliged to change his name. Jerome Abraham Phillips had to become Jerome Arthur Phillips because of the fear of anti-Semitism. (Anti-Semitism in the British Army that is.)

How fucking dare Jeremy Corby accuse me - because he was, by association, accusing me - of not being fully English.

Jeremy Corbyn’s father served in Dad’s Army at the age of 24

Despite a lack of irony my father was allowed to serve in the Eighth Army.

Enter an establishment Jew

For the ex-chief rabbi, Lord Sacks   to have intervened when this video came to light and charge Corbyn with being an anti-Semite  was a very, very big deal. It was unprecedented.  Rightly or wrongly, Sacks is the  Jew most venerated by the British media and the establishment.  ( As if to prove the point  he is currently hosting a Radio 4 series on Morality.) Yet his words have been dismissed by the Labour leadership out of hand. The fact that he unwisely  mentioned Enoch Powell in the same breath gave them an excuse to blithely shrug off the substance of his complaint.

But let's, for a moment, take Corbyn at his word, and assume he is so insensitive he didn't realise what the effect his words would have. What has his  response been? To apologise? To meet with Lord Sacks? Or to make up completely unbelievable explanations and then avoid the press and cameras himself and send out his emissaries with their pugnacious, unyielding messages of denial. 

What if it hadn’t been about Jews?

If he had made similar remarks about any other minority  group he would have been forced to resign immediately. Imagine if he said that those who advocate  the wearing of a burka  might have been born in this country, but didn’t understand English irony or know English history. 

Those who advocate wearing a burka may not  necessarily be  Muslims, but almost certainly are, in the way that Zionists are almost certainly Jews. It would certainly be something you might  expect  the leader of the English Defence League to say, but the leader of the Labour Party?  Do you honestly think Corbyn would still be in a job if he’d said something so Islamaphobic?  

But Jews don't matter to Labour. That is the message that Corbyn and his supporters have sent us.

Don’t just blame poor Jeremy

Jezza  and his acolytes are not alone amongst public figures on the Left in their supposedly unwitting ant-Semitism. Steve Bell, the cartoonist in the Guardian is another culprit. In two recent cartoons he has been profoundly offensive. He has been accused of anti-Semitism before so he can’t make the excuse that he couldn’t have known the risk he was running. Here’s the first.

What can this mean but that the people caricatured are not sincere in their complaints about Labour anti-Semitism?  One of those ‘sanctimonious humbugs’ (front row L) is clearly Lord Sacks and another, also in the front row, is Margaret Hodge, the MP and Jewess (to use a nice, old fashioned term) who called Corby an anti-Semite to his face. 

And here’s his other recent intended witticism on the subject. 

What can this mean but that these Labour grandees led by Margaret Hodge, who,  since she is holding the weapon is implicitly the executioner in chief, are being wholly unreasonable in asking Corbyn to apologise and recant? 

I was frankly shocked when I saw these cartoons, and probably should have complained but I didn’t. Shocked perhaps but not all that surprised. Katherine Viner, the editor, is the co-author of the 2009 play, ‘My Name is Rachel Corrie’, which a writer in The Spectator called  an ‘unapologetically pro-Palestinian drama’.

I wouldn’t accuse her of being anti-Semitic but neither can we expect the Guardian under her stewardship to be entirely even handed on the subject of the Israeli/Palestinian situation. 

Which brings me on to the subject of anti-Zionism. And anti-Semitism. And why the two so closely intertwined as to be effectively indistinguishable.

Zionists v Anti-Zionists

To  be a Zionist is to believe that Israel should be a homeland for Jews.  And that is all it means. It does not mean you  support  the policies of Netanyahu and his government. Not the annexation of East Jerusalem. Not the building of settlements on the West Bank. Not the ridiculously provocative, recently passed, ‘nation state’ law. I, and almost all the Jews I speak to, are vehemently  opposed to all of these things, 

But I, like most Jews, am a Zionist. (Some, a very few, aren’t, but then again, too few to mention.)

So what is an anti-Zionist?  Clearly someone who takes the opposite view; who does not believe that Israel should be a homeland for Jews. That the Israeli state should cease to exist. An anti-Zionist hopes that that one day, we would wake up and find Israel was no longer there. 

In such an eventuality, if you weren’t a Jew you might be a bit concerned, even alarmed,  but you’d get over it.

For me, it is a simply terrifying prospect. Quite literally, an existential threat to my own life  and that of my daughter. I don’t want to rehearse all the arguments why that is the case here, because I’ve been through them all in a previous post. https://bloggerblagger.tumblr.com/post/143854734827/62-anti-zionism-anti-semitism-an-expert-explains (If you have the stamina click on the link and go back and read it.)

But the bottom line is this: anti-Zionism is  plainly inimical to the interests of Jews, as hostile as crude old fashioned ‘you’re not really English’ anti-Semitism. 

A history lesson for Jeremy.

There are always different versions of history.

It is said that the winners write the history and while I can’t help but admire Hamas’, Hizbollah’s and Al Fatah’s pretty successful attempts to buck the trend, I do feel the need to point out a few things in Corbyn Minor’s textbook that are factually incorrect.

1) Israel is not, as  anti-Zionists insist on calling it, an ‘apartheid state’. I lived in  South Africa at the height of apartheid so I  have the advantage of some direct experience. The 21% of Israeli citizens - those living in Israel proper - who are Israeli Arabs or Israeli Palestinians or just plain Palestinians (however they prefer to self identify) have the full rights of citizenship. They can vote, stand for parliament (the Knesset) own property, demonstrate against the government. None of these rights were available to non-whites (as they were officially called in South Africa) under apartheid - which was the doctrine of separate development. 

That is not to say that there is no racism amongst Israelis and Jews generally. Sickening bigotry can be found  in every country, amongst every ethnic group. Jews have no claim to be any better. Why should they be expected to be?

Today I heard an astonishing story which both proves that there is sometimes, official racism in Israel and, simultaneously and seemingly impossibly, that there  isn’t.

A friend of mine working in London, a Muslim with a family home in Nazareth,  who self identifies as an Israeli Arab, travels frequently between London and Tel Aviv. Whenever he goes through Tel Aviv airport, despite having been through all the security checks that every  passenger does, he  is asked to do more.  As soon as he hands in his passport, it flags that he is an Arab and he has to go off to have all the contents of his luggage checked piece by piece. What is that but racial profiling and what is racial profiling but racism?

But here’s the twist. In order to satisfy Israeli legal requirements that this is not racial profiling, whoever is unfortunate enough to be standing next to him in the queue is dragged off to suffer exactly the same irritating bullshit. The last time it happened it was a black hatted, ultra orthodox Hassidic Jew. 

Apartheid? Not exactly.

2) Is it often said that Israel flouts UN resolutions, most notably ‘242′, passed half a century  ago, which calls on Israel to withdraw behind the 1967 borders. But there’s another part to that resolution which its critics conveniently ignore. Namely, that in return, all parties should recognise the right of every country in the region - including Israel - to exist in peace and security. So far, after 50 years, only four out of twenty two Arab countries have done so.

As for the other 64 UN resolutions, do you think it is possible that at least some of them have been passed because there are 50 Muslim majority countries and most, if not all, routinely vote against Israel on any and every issue?

3) Which brings me to Gaza. We constantly hear of the Israeli blockade. But it isn’t just an Israeli blockade. It is, at the western end,  also an Egyptian blockade. Have you ever heard Corbyn Minor mention that? Perhaps he was sleeping through that part of the lesson, 

Gaza was territory taken in 1967 in the Six Day War by Israel and voluntarily given up to Palestinian sovereignty - as Sinai was earlier given back to Egypt - and that involved the forcible removal of thousands of Israelis who, wisely or not, had made their homes there. 

Within months the people of Gaza had rewarded Israel for this act of peace by electing an Hamas government which was, and still is, sworn to the elimination of Israel. If they were to recognise Israel’s right to exist, then Netanyahu would have lost his best excuse for maintaining the blockade and not actively pursuing peace. They could shoot his fox tomorrow but they prefer to fire rockets. 

It’s true that they wouldn’t get everything they want in a negotiated peace settlement but nobody ever does. It takes two to make peace on earth Jeremy, and they have to want it more than eternity in  paradise. 

Exactly who are the real racists here?

Then we have the charge that the very concept of Israel as a Jewish homeland is  inherently racist; that it was when it was created in 1948, and that it still is. 

It’s a point. As least, it is in the precisely the same way that Pakistan was always inherently racist and still is. Pakistan, created just a year earlier than Israel, came into being  for the specific reason of being a nation for Muslims and is still the Islamic Republic of Pakistan. 

There are differences of course. In Israel all religions are free to practise exactly as they wish, people are not murdered for blasphemy, and LGBTQI (and whatever else)  rights are fully respected.

it is different too from the Islamic Republic of Iran where the religious minority, the Baha’ai are not permitted to  go to university and where gays are hung from cranes.

In fact, Islam is the official state religion in many countries, of which more than a few discriminate against other religions and where anything but heterosexual sex is illegal. 

In Egypt a bill was recently introduced to outlaw atheism. That would put it in line with the thirteen countries where atheism is punishable by death: Afghanistan, Iran, Malaysia, Maldives, Mauritania, Nigeria, Pakistan, Qatar, Saudi Arabia, Somalia, Sudan, United Arab Emirates and Yemen.

Why is it that Corbyn and his gang are so obsessed with Israel and never seem to notice the racism of others? Isn’t the act of charging one nation with racism while ignoring all the others, racism in itself?

We, in the United Kingdom, shouldn’t feel too superior by the way. We have a state religion and all others are discriminated against. The Church of England is the Established Church and followers of any other religion, even other Christians,  are proscribed by law from landing the top job in the country. No Muslim, no Jew, no Hindu, no Roman Catholic, and I believe, not even a Presbyterian  can be our Head of State.

Even post apartheid South Africa is racist. It was openly discussed in the South African press that  the mixed race  Trevor Manuel, the much praised Minister of Finance in the noughties could never be President because he wasn’t black enough.

Trevor Manuel. Not black enough to be South African President

It would, of course, be marvellous if group identity - tribalism if you will - was outmoded and eliminated and  ‘content of character’ was the only thing that mattered. But the truth is that almost every country in the world is dominated by one ethno-religious group or another. And it doesn’t seem remotely likely that any of them would tolerate the  possibility of  their ongoing majority  being challenged.

About 5-10% of the UK’s electorate are Muslims. Can you imagine the reaction if they became 25%, never mind a majority? And would it not be the same in France, Germany, Sweden, Russia, the US and in most of the countries in the non-Muslim world. 

And Jeremy, ask your Mexican wife what she thinks the reaction in Mexico would be if the hegemony of Roman Catholics was ever under threat.

Calling a Jew a Jew

No Jew would ever argue that there isn’t anti-Semitism on  the political right. Or indeed anywhere in British society. There is always a low level buzz, probably not picked up by by the antennae of non-Jews, but  Nazi death camps, Russian pogroms, Spanish inquisitions  and yes, English expulsions (oddly enough, Corby, we really do know our history) have left   Jews super attuned to anti-Semitism  and it is always there in the background for us.

I will give you one simple example of endemic anti-Semitism  that flies so low below most people’s radar that even Jews unwittingly accept it. It is the use of the word ‘Jew’.  

How often do you hear even the most ardent supporter of Jews refer to us by the actual word? Christians can be referred to as Christians and Muslims as Muslims, Hindus as Hindus, Janes as Janes, but Jews are never called Jews. They must be referred to as ’Jewish people’. Why? To soften the effect. Because the word Jew is still, after all these years, somehow, unconsciously perhaps, regarded as pejorative.

To be a Christian is to be kind, to be generous, to be virtuous. To be a Jew is to be tight, to be clever - too clever by half - to be cunning, to be manipulative, sneaky. So even our friends and usually, even  we ourselves- would rather say we are Jewish.

To call us Jews is deemed to be too strong, too brutal,  too, too, too… well, Jewish.

Outing myself

Another example: whenever I meet new people who are not Jewish, I let them know almost immediately that I am, and I know that I am not alone in doing this. The purpose is to try to ensure that no careless remark - no Jewish joke about money, no casual mention of ‘front wheelers’ - is going to be made in my presence. Because I don’t want to be put in the position of either cravenly saying nothing, or calling them out and then feeling I’m responsible for  the embarrassment, the awkward silence that would follow. 

And yet it still happens, and shamefully, more often than not, I follow the example of another well known Jew, and turn the other cheek.

I know that these remarks are not made out of any deliberate attempt to give offence, but the moment you draw attention to someone’s otherness you take the risk that you will. So I try to draw any potential sting by identifying  my otherness before you can. 

Who could possibly have been the inspiration for these posters?

On Wednesday September 5th 2018  these posters were flyposted over other advertisements at several different locations across London. Less than 24 hours after the infamous meeting of the Labour Party National Executive meeting at which, late in the afternoon, it was finally agreed to adopt the IHRA definition of anti-Semitism in full, along with the caveat that ‘it will not in any way undermine freedom of expression on Israel or the rights of the Palestinians.’ (Quite why they did this is a mystery to me as there is nothing in the IHRA definition to prevent either.) 

That wasn’t enough for JC though. He wanted to include a clause that said, “it should not be considered antisemitic to describe, Israel, its policies or the circumstances around its foundation as racist because of their discriminatory impact, or to support another settlement of the Israel-Palestine conflict”

This suggestion was apparently defeated, but why exactly was Corbyn pressing a case for this, when he knew that, had it been adopted,  it was bound to pour a tanker of oil on the flames of the dispute between the Labour Party and the Jewish community? 

Why should he want to appear the most antagonistic and unyielding member  of this now very left wing, Momentum-heavy body? 

How and why  was the news of this leaked when all the phones were supposedly taken off all the participants on the way in? 

And how was it that these posters could suddenly have appeared, pushing the very same specious bollocks that Corbyn has been trying to get adopted the evening before?

They were obviously  professionally designed, printed and posted in what must have been a highly coordinated operation  involving a number of people with different skill sets. And all in less than 24 hours. Really?

Here’s a conspiracy theory for you:  the people who did the poster - the London Palestine Action group apparently - had advance warning of what their guru was going to say and had the posters ready to go. It  was Jeremy himself or one of his acolytes who sprung the leak. And it was all part of the same orchestrated publicity campaign.

Yes, I grant you, it seems pretty fanciful. Why would the Leader of Her Majesty’s Opposition risk getting involved in such a crazy scheme? if it were exposed wouldn’t even he be seriously, even fatally, damaged politically?

Crazy perhaps, but  I have a very nearly  plausible answer: Corbyn is a  lifelong idealogical purist.  A ceaseless campaigner for anti-establishment causes. A zealot. A rebel to the marrow of his bones. Would he really mind if he crashed and burned and became a hero and a martyr? Wouldn’t that be more attractive to a chap like him than having to deal with the quotidian mundanity of having to  read the boring contents of dispatch boxes  and deal with Sir Humphrey? 

Even if he didn’t have anything directly to with those posters, the timing tells you he was, at the very least,  the inspiration. 

And for all the reasons I have outlined here, those posters were unarguably anti-Semitic.

And Jeremy Corbyn is a duck.