#and if nothing else my voice is unique. i don't think i've met anyone who sounds similar to me. i like that too
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y'know my voice isn't that bad (<- just had to listen to a recording of itself conducting an interview)
#marzi speaks#been in an it/its mood lately#anyways!#i have very mixed feelings on my voice. i like how it sounds to me most of the time#but when i hear it recorded i sometimes bristle- like everyone does#i tend to forget how high pitched my voice actually is to a lot of people? it's lower in my perception#i mean i KNOW i have a high-pitched voice. but i never think of it as high pitched as it is#it can give me weird gender feelings. i sometimes think i pass until i speak- that sorta thing#but! i also like it. it's kinda lilty- almost airy? yet still sure of itself. i like those qualities of it#and if nothing else my voice is unique. i don't think i've met anyone who sounds similar to me. i like that too#iunno. just thinking abt it#i think my voice is pretty alright :) i sometimes get uncomfy with how it sounds but i can't imagine it sounding any other way
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Im nonbinary and i feel ashamed of being amab.
Even ignoring dysphoria, the expectations of being a guy as well as being too scared to...well do anything that might affirm me is really getting to me, especially as it feels like afab nonbinary people are far more common and im left feeling isolated (made even worse by any gender envy i get only coming from them so i feel like i never will be happy with my gender because of my agab).
how do i deal with this?
hello there! Thanks for taking the time to stop by!
i wanted to say from the bottom of my heart that i am sorry that people have made you feel this way, because it's not just you having those feelings. people have made it difficult for amab nonbinary people to have a voice and a place to speak for themselves due to a lot of bullshit. i understand feeling isolated, it's hard to network with other people like yourself when you constantly feel pushed out of every space you try to occupy
the fact that a lot of people think that being nonbinary is just a thing that afab people do or a "weird girl thing" is frustrating, it sucks because you really do encounter it. it's not true though- given the absolutely massive amount of amab nonbinary people i've met both online and in person, it's not that amab nonbinary people don't exist, it's just that no one will give you room to speak and that is bullshit
i would recommend trying to see if there are any transfem support groups in your area as that would probably be the highest concentration of people who are the likeliest to understand your situation. you can also look out for nonbinary support groups, but i totally understand your apprehension. it helps to try to start with people who are the most likely to get you. i would honestly also recommend just taking up space in whatever queer communities you find if you can. it's hard, but you do deserve a chance to take up that space and it may help someone else feel less alone in the process
you are just as nonbinary as any person of any other agab. your agab is your dearest secret and nobody has the right to exile you from any queer spaces based off of that. your agab means nothing about your intentions, personality, or anything- your agab is just some organs and reproductive health systems. whether or not you have that body from birth or because of hormones and surgery is nobody's business
you have the right to talk about the nonbinary experience and how unique it is to your agab, especially. remind yourself that anyone outside of that experience doesn't know what it's like. i don't know what it's like, because i'm not amab. those people are not the expert on what it's like to live this life. you are. let yourself be that expert. let yourself be judge
there are a million ways to be trans and no agab owns nonbinaryhood. common public conceptions of identities and concepts are often heavily biased and skewed. in time as we see folks become braver, people will begin to understand that amab people are just as likely to identify as nonbinary as anyone else. trust me, i have met so many. you are not alone by any stretch of the imagination
you are also welcome to join my discord server, if you're not already in it! it's not a solution to having irl community, but having an online support group can help a lot!
there's no reason to be ashamed, you are a beautiful individual with an identity that is just as incredible. i hope your shame can turn to pride, you have an experience that is worth blessing the world with. take care of yourself for now. do the best you can to remind yourself that you are defining the trans experience just by existing. other people can talk shit all they want, but you know who you are. keep your chin up, you're awesome. have a great week
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Sorry but what exactly is up with the bad batch arc? I've heard people talk about the issues with echo's white skin but I haven't heard that many bad things about the arc itself? (ik you said you don't want to be negative on your blog so I would absolutely understand if you didn't answer this ask)
Oooooooooooh boy. Well I just had a long, long, LONG rant about it with someone, but I guess I’ve got an excuse to put all of my points onto a post and talk about it publicly now that I got an ask x) I’ll keep it under the cut so I don’t throw my salt in people’s face. I really don’t want to upset people who love that arc - it has redeeming qualities, but overall it pisses me off so much for so many reasons. So here:
The first issue is obviously two members of the Bad Batch (minus Echo) being being just about the furthest thing from maori no matter how much you're willing to stretch it.
Like... yeah, nah. I wouldn’t even accept Crosshair and Tech (grey haired guy and goggles guy) as Jango’s natural biological sons, nevermind as his clones.
The problem is that their different appearances are justified by them being described simply as clones with desirable mutations (i.e superpowers). But why the hell did the creators have to change their appearances for that to be a thing? How does that correlate? Sure, the concept of clones with different faces is interesting, except... no, no it’s not, and I’m gonna rant about it in a few secs. But basically it's like they thought giving them different faces would be a good substitute for having different personalities (another thing I’ll come back to). If they really wanted to have buff clones with super eyesight or whatnot they could have just done that, without making them lose what little melanin the lighting of the show had allowed the other Clones to keep.
But the gigantic problem is... showing that the "regular" clones have VERY distinct identities despite their identical faces has been one of the themes of the show from episode 1. Literally, the first episode of TCW has Yoda taking time out of a mission with galactic stakes to tell the three clones he’s with (who tell him they’re all the same because they have the same faces) that they’re wrong, and that they’re very different in the Force, that their appearance doesn’t matter, that they’re all equally unique and important, and he lists all of their individual skills, strengths and weaknesses.
And it’s not just me being bothered by that, here’s a post by @cacodaemonia saying the same thing.
Introducing the Bad Batch as "unique" clones who are "different" and "not like their brothers" because they have different faces and skills completely breaks that theme of the show!! Because the entire point of the Clones in TCW is that their faces don't matter, they ARE unique!
(Plus the Bad Batch’s character designs are so cliche and uninspired it’s just laughable to try and justify bleaching their freaking skin for the sake of visual diversity.
This took like 10 seconds. I found the first guy by literally googling “soldier movies,” and the other two are Team Fortress characters that look a LOT like Wrecker and Crosshair. One is “Heavy” and one is “Sniper” lmao.
And behold:
The above picture is a Team Fortress reference that I found just by looking up “bad batch clone wars,” so I’m not the only person who sees it.)
And the batchers don't even have personalities to justify calling them unique! They have no character traits beyond the most cliché american soldier tropes ever. We have a token loner sniper, a token "smart tech guy" who knows everything from xenoanthropology to biology to Separatist computers to sound waves to encryption, a token Badass Brooding Leader and a token “dumb muscle guy.”
I dare anyone to find more about their personalities than this: - Crosshair is the perpetually grumpy sniper who looks down on "regs,” - Wrecker likes to blow up stuff and doesn't like heights, - Hunter is the leader and is friends with Cody, - Tech is smart doesn't trust Echo.
That’s it, that’s literally it. Four episodes about them and that's all we get. These character tropes are literally the least inventive ever. FFS, Hunter even has a freaking KNIFE! Not a vibroblade, mind you, like in kriffing Star Wars. A knife. Against metal droids. Why. They couldn’t make this more of an american-war-movies cliché fest if they tried. (And sure, he can feel electromagnetic waves so maybe it does make sense for him not to carry a vibroblade and maybe this is nitpicking, but he looks like a ripoff of a Predator character and it pisses me off).
Another thing is that when you introduce characters you have to make them likable - and them despising the normal Clones is a terrible way to do that! And they don't even grow from that because at the end of the 4 episodes arc they just see Rex as not bad "for a reg" and they see Echo as no longer a reg, and both of these things are infuriating!
The worst thing imo is that Echo then becomes part of them (and irreparably loses his melanin in the process, uuuuuuuuugh) when there is nothing to justify this.
The dialogue goes like this:
ECHO: You coming? TECH: Not really our thing. CROSSHAIR: Accolades. WRECKER: Yeah, we're just in it for the thrill. Yo! HUNTER: You sure it's your thing? ECHO: What do you mean? HUNTER: Your path is different. Like ours. If you ever feel like you don't fit in with them, well, find us. (they leave) REX: Those are some of the finest troopers I've ever fought alongside. Echo. You and I go way back. If that's where you feel your place is, then that's where you belong.
Echo doesn't feel like he belongs anymore, okay, but why would he feel like he belongs with the assholes who up to the last five minutes of the mission thought he was probably a traitor, and also verbally expressed that he was not worth saving?? In all of the arc, Echo himself never voices that he feels he’s not ‘like the other Clones’ anymore and that he feels it’s a problem. His relationship with Rex immediately picks up where they left things off - the first thing he does upon being lucid again for the first in over a year is cracking a joke for Rex’s benefit.
Why would Echo feel like he doesn’t belong in the 501st anymore, when we don't even see him interacting with anyone from his past life except for Rex and Anakin (who are both extremely very supportive of him)?? If there had been one scene of a “regular” Clone (ugh) looking at him with horror and disgust or something, or just Kix and Jesse cracking jokes with Echo awkwardly standing by the side not getting it, I could forgive the show trying to make it feel like he has an identity crisis, but this was so shallow!
The only thing that makes Echo and the Bad Batch’s experiences similar is that they *look* different. It’s so against the themes of the Clones I’m seething just from thinking about it. And what the hell? Echo ALREADY didn’t fit in. That was the WHOLE POINT of Domino Squad. They didn’t fit in because they thought they were better than anyone else because they had trouble getting along with their brothers, so obviously it had to be their brothers’ fault (ahem, Bad Batch?). And you know what happened? Domino Squad OVERCAME that. And Echo and Fives still didn’t “fit in” because their personalities were unique and creative, and they became ARC Troopers because Cody, Rex and the Jedi VALUED THEM FOR PRECISELY THAT. Echo having new and unique skills and a modified appearance is the most bs justification for him feeling like he doesn’t belong!!
And that brings me to my biggest issue: Rex telling Echo the bad batch are some of the best troopers he's ever met. I'm sorry, based on WHAT? What Rex values above everything is loyalty and brotherhood, and the Bad Batch DOESN'T DISPLAY ANY OF THAT. We never see them even expressing concern for each other! Wrecker treats saving Cody’s life like a trivial issue, because it’s just ‘sO eAsY’ for him, and beyond that we never see them supporting each other or genuinely expressing affection for each other beyond boasting about each other’s skills...
Sure they can destroy a lot of droids, but they're dismissive of Rex's brothers, and the entire Umbara arc and this arc showed what he thought of that. They keep saying things like "not bad for a reg,” don't show any trust in Rex's skills or experience (even though they can't have been fighting in the war for more than a year and a half when he’s been there from the beginning, and he outranks all of them), they are essentially guerilla fighters which has only minimal value in a galactic war, and they never grow beyond their views of what regs are, and can and can’t do.
None of that should make them good troopers in Rex's book. Going back to Echo not fitting in, remember who taught the Domino Squad the importance of seeing all of your brothers as important and equally valuable? Shaak Ti, true, but more importantly? 99! The guy the Bad Batch are named after. He did have value and was important and was no less of a trooper than his brothers, even though his mutations made him LESS powerful, not more. (And btw, just from a writing standpoint, the batchers don’t have any weaknesses, which is shit.) Cody and Rex mourned 99 as a true soldier even though it wasn’t his sacrifice that brought them victory (which would have implied that he had value as a soldier and a brother because he saved them, as opposed to him having that value intrinsically), because that’s what a fine trooper is to them. A BROTHER first a foremost, someone altruistic, brave and loyal. The Bad Batch distort the meaning of 99's character with their behavior. They’re not altruistic, their bravery is mitigated by the fact that they’re freaking invincible, so of course they take risks (again, see Wrecker saving Cody without a care because it’s easy to him, as opposed to Rex being ready to run into a burning ship about to explode because his brother is in there, and having to be physically dragged away). The Bad Batch denigrate their brothers for being less skilled, thinking their own abilities make them unique somehow, when 99 could barely fight and was still the one who taught Hevy about being a good soldier.
And again the batchers don't grow from that. Which is all the more frustrating because the original ending didn’t have Echo joining them, from what I remember of the unfinished episodes, and the arc actually ended with them receiving their medals in front of regular troopers who cheer for them, as opposed to them smugly ostracizing themselves and dismissing the ceremony as trivial and meaningless. (original ending vs s7 ending: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ab1eCfzKamw)
It’s so annoying. Do you know what characters never had an entire arc dedicated to them and still have far more personality and more interesting designs and more symbolic weight??
Jesse, for starters. Kix. Dogma. Cut. Slick. Keeli. Ponds. Rys, Jek and Thire. Commander Doom. Commander Fox. Wolffe. Hevy. Hardcase.
Cody was a more interesting character just in his RotS appearances.
Waxer and Boil had one episode about them and then only two cameos plus Waxer’s death, and they’re still some of the most memorable, beloved Clones of the whole show. And Boil was grouchy and prejudiced like Crosshair, but he has so much growth that we could make a whole thread about it.
I'd say the last problem with the Bad Batch is that it has cash grabbing money hungry vibes. Different faces are more marketable, cliché personalities are more toy-friendly, and it's basically a big ad for the Bad Batch series. And they throw Echo in the Batch at the end for bs reasons (again, it wasn’t in the original ep from what I remember) and they tease Cody in the show to make sure fans will still watch even if they notice the lack of soul. And less melanin sells more at Disney apparently.
So that’s my whole pissed rant.
#the bad batch#bad batch#ask#anonymous#meta#my meta#more like me ranting#long post#sw talk#anti bad batch#i'm sorry - please don't read if you like them#i don't want anyone getting upset over this#i'm really not out to tell people who enjoy them that they're wrong#there are tons of cool moments and compelling ideas for fanfics for one thing#it's just that I'd been thinking about this for *ages* and i really needed to let it out#crosshair#echo#tech#hunter#wrecker
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Can you do Nekomaru and Gonta fluff? I need more of those two in my life!
Nekomaru Nidai and Gonta Gokuhara fluff
i'm so excited to go to class again on monday bro i need to see my "gay? friend" again like he literally turned around during class to face me and say goodbye to me when I left it was fuckign crazy i'm so fjdwsnklx
anyway i used some sentence starters from this book i'm writing and i think? it helped write this better.
currently listening: ghost walking by lamb of god
-Mod Souda
Nekomaru Nidai
❤ On a Monday night, you drive all the way across the city to pick Akane up, her still wearing her school uniform. That's how she found her way into your house, where she introduces himself to your parents.
❤ She tells them that she's a student of Hope's Peak Academy, something she says so naturally, as if it's nothing out of the ordinary.
❤ Once the two of you are walking up the driveway, she can't hold the smile from her face. She's an impressive person. You wonder if she even knows that.
❤ Your car squeals as you pull it out of the driveway and you can imagine your old friends wincing at the sound. She sits in the passenger seat with one hand out the window, her uniform unbuttoned to reveal her chest, and her hair blowing out of her face.
❤ "Is that school fun?" You ask. "Everyone there is... different, right?"
❤ "In the best way! I've never met anyone like them before."
❤ "Is it loud?"
❤ "Yes," she answers honestly, "that's what makes it so fun." You think of the party that she had invited you to on campus, the yelling voices, her boosting laugh, the teachers with the apologetic smiles and soft voices - you, shy in the corner, watching them as if you were a stranger. You had met someone there, though, someone you thought was unique.
❤ When the two of you get to the park, Nekomaru is already there, wearing his unzipped jacket, chest peaking out. The park is brightly lit, with crooked benches and only few kids on the playground.
❤ Akane stands next to him. "Have you seen Sonia?" When Nekomaru nods and points to the bathroom, she takes off so fast she leaves a trail of dust.
❤ Without her around, you can hardly find it in yourself to speak to him. His eyeliner surrounds his entire eye. You forgot if he always wore it like that. With a weird sense of awkwardness, you sit on a bench, trying to play it off as you waiting for Akane to walk back and not you straight up ignoring him.
❤ But he doesn't seem to understand.
❤ "I'm gonna sit here." He says, taking the seat next to you.
❤ He says it as if it's a joke. You want to laugh, but you can't even muster a smile, instead, letting out in a small voice: "you're okay."
❤ "How old are you?" He asks.
❤ You blush. It's a completely distracting question. Do you look like a child - is it off putting to him? Or do you look too old to be hanging out with high schoolers? Or maybe it's the car.
❤ "I-I'm in the same grade as you. I just don't go to your school."
❤ He offers a small smile. "Excellent! There was a correct answer and you got it perfectly!"
❤ "It's the truth," you let out as if he was accusing you.
❤ He doesn't pause in between questions.
❤ "What's your name?"
❤ "What's yours?"
❤ He shakes his head at you. "I asked first."
❤ "S/O," you say, leaning your body so you're closer to him. "Your turn."
❤ "Nekomaru Nidai! I remember you from that party. You need to adjust your will a bit more, you're so sheepish."
❤ With a finger to your lips, you crack a smile. "I'm not usually like this around anyone else."
❤ Akane comes back over, her face flushed, with Sonia trailing behind her.
❤ "What is happening, my friends?" Sonia asks.
❤ You wave your hand, not wanting to talk about it, before Nekomaru answers instead. "I have just met this lovely little friend!" Little. You find yourself blushing.
❤ And the four of you wait for the kids to leave the playground before you take it over. Sonia and Akane find their way on the swings, making it a race to see who gets higher, filling your core with anxiety as Akane practically goes in a full circle on those things. You learned to not go near the pull up bars with Nekomaru. He gets too focused on making you do reps. You end up sitting ontop of the slide, Nekomaru next to you, his height making him reach that high, and the two of you talk throughout the time.
❤ The park gets dimly lit as the sun goes down. That's when you realize that you're Akane's ride home, and the dorms are quite the day away.
❤ Before you leave, you give him a smile. "Do you have a phone?" You ask him. Your heart beats from out of your chest. Are you really doing this?
❤ It takes him a minute to answer. He genuinely thinks about it. "Yes - my phone number! Here." He grabs your hand. His fingers are huge. Three of yours seem to be two of his. Your breathing gets heavy. With a pen from his pocket, he writes down his number on your palm.
❤ Your worried your nervous sweating would whisk it away. He didn't even give you the opportunity to input it into your phone.
❤ Akane watches, her eyes wide, but she doesn't say anything until you both are out of ear shot. "You really do like him, don't you? Oh, this is so fun."
❤ "Maybe. He's very sweet to me. And he makes me nervous."
❤ She gasps, playfully, opening your car door and getting inside. "I can tell you for sure that he's single."
.
Gonta Gokuhara
(this one is a bit angsty i'm sorry)
❤ By Friday, everyone knows you kissed him, and he gets too flustered to talk to you, and Ouma keeps bringing it up in a way to make fun of you.
❤ "He doesn't hate you." Saihara has to console you, very awkwardly, as he pats your shoulder. Kaede nods in agreement and goes on about how he's obviously just embarrassed that the two of you are getting attention. That doesn't exactly make you feel better.
❤ Gonta is nothing like the type of boys you liked when you were a child. He's not like any celebrity or pop star.
❤ He is also nothing like he is over the phone. The two of you have texted, of course, as if nothing is wrong. Texted is meant literally. He's not the type to use social media, even though he has accounts. You have to reach his phone number to even reach him at all.
❤ Chatting online makes it easy to talk to him as if he doesn't give you butterflies. And when he aimlessly flirts, it's easier to show your interest in him.
❤ Like when he types, "gonta thought you looked so beautiful today," it's something anyone could type to you, but coming from him, it's different. It feels authentic. Like he has never typed those words to anyone else before.
❤ You hardly see him outside of school, and when you offer to go out, he doesn't understand what you mean.
❤ 'Where would we go?'
❤ 'Would you want to see a movie? :)'
❤ 'Gonta can watch movies at home!!!'
❤ He doesn't understand how this works, and after showing the messages to Kaede, you both agree that he isn't exactly shutting you down on purpose.
❤ Outside of the school, the leaves start to fall, turning orange and yellow, the weather becoming colder. Back before the gossip, the two of you would walk out together. He'd often take off his coat and sling it around your shoulders. Now, you stay cold.
❤ You keep texting him, but his compliments become empty and the special feeling he gave you starts to fade away. Actions speak better than words, they say.
❤ 'Do you not like me?'
❤ He answers almost immediately. Well, the message is seen immediately. His response takes a few minutes.
❤ 'WHY!!!! OF COURSE I LOIKE YOU!!!'
❤ 'You don't even stand around me anymore.... are you embarrassed to be with me :('
❤ 'Gonta thought you were embarrassed to be with him!!!'
❤ 'Oh my goodness'
❤ You put down your phone, a bit frustrated, and rub your temples.
❤ You return to school, clenching your phone in your hand as if it was a weapon, waiting for him to message you at least once. Else, you imagine him approaching you with apologetic eyes, maybe flowers in his hands. After days go by and nothing happens, you stop caring so much about if you get that special notification.
❤ Early Monday, before school, a note shows up in your getabako, and you spend the rest of the morning before class trying to find him before you even read it. It wasn't just a note to you; it was him admitting that him making assumptions had messed with your relationship. He's soft, sweet, and even a bit of a gentleman, but this mistake doesn't take to you nicely.
❤ In the back of the school, where the trees are, he sits alone. There are bugs crawling on his shoulders and down his arms. You don't mind them like you usually do.
❤ "Did you put this in my locker?" You ask.
❤ He looks up from the insects, his face gentle.
❤ "This note." You say. "Did you write it?"
❤ "Is it Gonta's handwriting?" he asks.
❤ You sit down next to him. "Look."
❤ He takes it, looking down at the sloppy handwriting and the smeared words. "Maybe it is..."
❤ Your stomach tightens. "What does it say? Say it to me yourself, with your words, please."
❤ "It says... Gonta is sorry if I'm annoying or if you don't like Gonta. He did not mean to be... mean."
❤ You stare at him, your face muscles tightening to the point of heating you up. Boiling temperature, but calm body language, he was unsure as if you were going to yell at him or console him.
❤ "You still messaged me every day as if everything was normal." It wasn't an accusation, but a fact. And you didn't know where you were going with it.
❤ "Gonta knows..."
❤ "I'm not mad." You place a hand on his shoulder, where it's free, and you feel his tight muscles underneath. "I still like you. A lot."
❤ It's charming, watching him melt. You didn't say anything special nor did you compliment him. But his eyes still cling onto you as if you were savory honey.
❤ "Do you mean it?" He asks.
❤ "Of course I do." Your hand slides up to the back of his neck. And on the bench, you go on your knees, lifting yourself to lean over him as you bring him in.
❤ You ask, "Does Gonta want a kiss?"
❤ And he smiles, capturing your lips against his.
#nekomaru nidai x reader#nekomaru nidai#gonta gokuhara#gonta gokuhara x reader#fluff#danganronpa fluff
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Love & Letter: To The Thirteen Boys I've Loved Before
The Fourth Letter
-----------------
To: Wen Junhui
From: Y/N
Jun, how are you doing lately?
I'm always wondering that now that you're gone. I want to text you or call you but it'll be awkward since before you left, we decided to break up. I want to call and hear your voice, laugh at your jokes, I miss it all.
I'm sure it's better for the both of us that we cut off contact, but how can I forget you, my first boyfriend that I'm still in love with? I think you're the first person I've ever loved so deeply like this. I know that I'm in love with you.
During the little over half a year that we dated, I learned so many things about love. It was phenomenal, beautiful, and such a good feeling.
I'm always wondering, if we weren't teens in high school, if we were adults, would our relationship be different? Would we have ended differently? Because if we were adults, maybe you wouldn't have to leave back to China. Even now, I'm wondering, in the future, can we cross paths again? Give our love another chance?
But I know that by that time, we would be completely different people and maybe not even attracted to each other anymore. Who knows, you may find someone in China that you love better than me.
If you didn't have to go, maybe we could have had a longer relationship. Why must we have to be apart when we're so in love? You're my first boyfriend ever and I can't be more grateful to you. You were the best first boyfriend I could ever ask for.
This letter to you, it's not a confession, only a little bit. I just want to write this letter to remember you, my first boyfriend, and thank you now that it would be too awkward to do it over text or call.
You're my first boyfriend and when you came into my life, it felt like someone above heard my prayers. At that time when you slipped into my life, I'll confess that I was trying to fall out of love with someone else. Thanks to you, I was able to do that.
Should we both thank Mr. Koo for pairing us up for the 2-month project? I mean, thanks to him, I was able to fall in love with someone like you.
I remember how awkward it was for both of us introverts to speak with each other. You introduced yourself and I introduced myself and then we didn't talk for like five minutes. I still remember how heavily my heart pounded while waiting for you to speak. To this day, I don't know why you giggled first, but it was attractive and cute. Maybe I'm just so madly in love with you that I find your everything to be perfect and cute.
When we began talking to each other, I was surprised at how unique you were. Trust me, Junhui, you're nothing like anyone I've met before. Out of the guys I've ever met, you're the weirdest! But that's a good thing, because of that charm, I fell even harder for you. It's your charm, Jun.
It was just your way of thinking that was unique. You were able to come up with the most unique jokes I've ever heard and your humor always cracked me up as well. I still remember that first day when we were working on the project, you drew a small sun with a smiley face at the corner of my paper. It was so cute.
Soon, I realized that most of the time during class, we were just busy joking with each other and wasting time. You shared stories about your little brother and always made me laugh somehow. Each time I laughed because of you, my heart fluttered. Each time you laughed because of me, I would feel a rush of excitement and my heart would be pounding so fast.
When you started coming over to my house to work in hopes of getting more progress, that's when our relationship progressed. It was weird to have you around at my house because we just talked so much instead of getting work done. Sometimes, the responsibility would hit me and I would remind us to get to work, in which you would chuckle and reply, “Oh right, what are we doing, fooling around?”
Every time you said something along those lines, it made me smile because you were just so cute. I was slowly drowning myself into your charms. This unique personality of yours was drawing me in.
Aside from your dorkiness, when you get to work, you work hard. Sometimes I was distracted by how you looked when you were focused.
Thank you for asking me out that day at the bus stop. I was sending you home. I know I told you it was because I felt bad for leaving you alone and it really was because I felt bad, but it was also because I wanted to be around you longer.
When we reached the empty bus stop and you waited for the bus, you told me after some hesitation, abruptly, while chuckling softly, “I like you, Y/N. Should we date?”
At that time, my heart and mind were racing, that's why I replied stupidly to your confession and said “Isn't it too fast...?”
Gosh, I was so dumb! It wasn't fast at all and the pace was actually good. We took two weeks getting to know each other, it was about time that you asked me out, right? I mean, I liked you back then too, so I hope you don't think those dates we went on captured my heart because that's not the case at all! I've liked you before your confession.
However, thanks to my dumb reply, you took me on many dates. It was my first time going on dates like that with just one other person. A date like the ones in the movies.
The first date being at the carnival that was open in town. I had so much fun there! Plus, I still have that photo of us with the face paint in my photo gallery. I don't want to delete it because it holds so many memories. Maybe someday, I'll print our couple pictures and tape them on the back of this letter. Plus, the cat ears looked so cute on us.
For the first time, I felt like I was on a real date, and it was with you. I'm grateful that I was able to participate in so many different games with you. I still have the small duck you won for me. Those games are all a total scam but you still insisted and managed to win it for me. At that moment, I felt your sincerity at the bottom of my heart.
I also remember our date at the PC cafe. Gosh, you have the weirdest taste in games, you know that!? Usually, men like playing shooter games but you and I trained a cat to fly and had multiple races. The loser would then have to get a flick on the forehead, even though we both went easy on each other. That brought me a lot of joy too even though it was simple.
For our last date, before we started dating, I just want to confess, I lied about being able to stay out late. My dad didn't figure out I was with you though. I just really wanted to see the movie so I went to watch it with you. That was the location of our first kiss together.
After the movie, I was stretching my back outside the movie theatre. I don't know what you were looking at but if you were looking at me, I'm sorry I looked so ugly while stretching. It was almost 9 PM, two hours past the time I can stay out.
I can remember the scene clearly. I was just about to tie my hair while talking about the movie when you suddenly took my face with your cold hands and kissed me with your warm lips. Your hand on my warm neck was sending chills down my spine. I still didn't know how to kiss then and just going with the flow, I found myself enjoying kissing you a lot. My heart was racing and I remember how hard I clenched onto your khaki jacket. I'm giggling now thinking about it.
I did learn how to kiss better because of you though, Jun. After we started dating, sometimes when my dad left to get us some fruit, you would sneak some kisses onto my lips in the meanwhile instead of working. You're so playful too. Playful and sweet.
Sometimes, you don't know how much you mean to me, Jun. I mean, I'm still a bit upset that you didn't tell me you were moving back to China in the middle of summer break. However, I'm glad that you told me before you moved and just didn't disappear suddenly. Because you told me, I could love you with all of my teenage heart and give you all of me. I was able to convince my father to allow me to spend more hours with you, whether it was goofing around, working hard, or just kissing and hugging. Thank you for that, because I was able to prepare myself. I loved it whenever we were just sitting, our legs crisscrossed, and my arms around your neck with your hands clasped around my waist while we kissed sweetly.
I also love your hair, Jun. It was so soft and flowy that I could ruffle it all day. Your hand too, whenever they clasped with mine, I would always feel a sense of warmth.
When the move ticked closer, I was beginning to grow more nervous. I didn't want you to leave but I knew it wasn't your choice. Did you dread the day as well?
I wonder if we could have broken that long-distance relationship curse. We loved each other after all. I thought that I would be able to handle it as long as I could still hear your voice and text you. I thought long and hard about it, wondering if a breakup was necessary. But then, without even trying, I know that we will eventually drift apart. We're still teens and it's my first time having a boyfriend, how was I supposed to know what to do?
I remember the day before you left, you told me that you loved me and that you were sorry that all you could give me was memories. I'm still believing that every word you said was genuine.
You cared for me when I was sick. I remember how you rushed to check up on me after school when you heard that I was absent because I was sick. Most of the time I was sleeping but I can still remember how gently you caressed my hair and stroked my cheeks.
You showed me unconditional love, even when I was telling you that I wasn't proud of myself. You cheered me on with your bright personality.
I'm glad I said those words too. “I love you.”
Even though we may just seem like kids to others, I truly loved you, Junhui. The day when we broke up at the airport, I did not want you to see me cry. You always told me to cry if I wanted to but I didn't want you to see me cry.
When you said “Well, I guess that's it for us. Thank you, Y/N, for being mine for a while. I love you a lot and I'll always treasure the memories we made” as you left, waving and smiling painfully, I was going to cry, but I just smiled and waved after telling you that I loved you too and that this breakup was unfortunate.
When you stopped your suitcase and ran back to me one more time to hug me, I was about to burst into tears. You said your final goodbye and then went back to your suitcase. To be honest, I wanted to hold you longer. I didn't want you to leave, I wanted to hold you back so that you could stay with me.
After you left, I ran into my dad's car and cried.
I cried a lot and my dad didn't even do anything to stop me. He knew you were my first boyfriend and having to end my relationship with you so sadly made his heart ache too I bet. I'm glad my dad let me cry though. I think he understood what I was going through.
I miss you a lot, Jun. I still think about you a lot. Sometimes I look back on the place where we worked on our project and I can almost see the scenes of us sitting there, laughing, talking, hugging, cuddling, kissing. I was really sad after you left. I'm still getting over it. I'm still remembering when I wake up some days and realize that you're not here with me anymore and that you're in a different time zone, a different country, a different place.
A month has passed since you left. I have a month of summer left to spend to move on.
I hope you're having a good time, staying healthy, being happy where you belong. I will always remember you. I don't want to forget you, Junhui. You mean a lot to me.
I miss you, Jun. I'm thankful to you too.
I love you, Jun.
If only we fell in love at a different time, perhaps in the future when we are adults, capable of our emotions, capable of thinking, capable of our own lives, capable of loving. If you didn't have to move... If you didn't have to leave... I'm sure I'd still have you beside me. Yet, I can't even tell what the present holds, who am I to assume the future?
All I can do is reminisce now. I really miss you, Jun. I'll move on soon enough. Are you trying to move on too? Do you miss me as much as I miss you?
If only we were given more time.
Yours truly,
Y/N
-----------------
© serenityseventeen
6/20/21 - 1:03 am
a/n: I listened to ‘Silent Boarding Gate’ while making this one because that song is so beautiful and just makes me feel like I'm reminiscing about a past love that is now gone. I almost cry every time. It's such a beautiful song, guys...
#love & letter: to the thirteen boys i've loved before#seventeen kpop#seventeen#seventeen imagines#svt kpop#svt imagines#seventeen scenarios#seventeen fluff#svt#svt fluff#svt scenarios#문준휘#준#seventeen jun#junhui seventeen#moon junhui#seventeen junhui#wen junhui#jun seventeen#svt jun#jun svt#jun scenarios#jun imagines#wen junhui imagines#junhui#wen junhui scenarios#jun oneshot#kpop imagines#kpop imagine#kpop oneshots
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My Sorting Hat Chats System Debutante (Scooby-Doo Housing)
I found a new favorite toy.
The @sortinghatchats personality system is so incredible. It does exactly the thing that frustrated so many that MBTI couldn't do: actually describe your personality. MBTI is wonderful for understanding a person's thought process and mind, but, as anyone who really knows MBTI knows, it can only tell you so much about how a person will actually behave in life. And while still plenty useful, most people go into personality typing to try and discover the different ways we actually behave in life, not just the way our minds thrum along.
I highly recommend looking up how the system works if you don't know, but essentially everyone gets a PRIMARY and a SECONDARY house. The primary house speaks to the WHY we do things and the secondary speaks to the HOW, referring to problem solving. This system is also unique as it accounts for the elasticity of the human mind by introducing things like MODELS, PERFORMANCES, BURNT HOUSES, and even the recently suggested EXPLODED HOUSES (I first heard of this through @wisteria-lodge . If they didn't think of it first, please let me know who did!) I'm not going to take the time to explain those in full here, though I may reference some of them below, and would direct you to both of the aforementioned blogs to learn more.
So, I'm doing my first housing venture using the system, and I've become recently re-obsessed with Scooby-Doo, so I thought they'd be perfect to practice/demonstrate. I'd love any criticisms or suggestions! Thanks!
Scooby-Doo Housing!
Fred Jones: Gryffinpuff (Gryffindor Primary, Hufflepuff Secondary)
Fred is a great example of a Hufflepuff Secondary. He is a hardworker and, most importantly, is heavily invested in the gang. He's always at their side and expects them to be at his. He balks at the idea of taking shortcuts on mysteries and would rather work all night than besmirch the good name of Mystery Inc with shoddy work. But, the gang is his life more than any other member, because as a Puff Secondary, he sees them as extensions of his own hands and ability to hell others. He has a great balance between the "acts of kindness" Puff Secondary and the "hardwork and toil" Puff Secondary. In fact, his Hufflepuff Secondary is so strong, I almost thought he was a True Hufflepuff. But, a great indicator of difference between Gryffindor Primaries and another primary whose motives they align with is whether they would allow other people to live the way they want. Fred is a big time believer in justice, fairness, and helping other people, but he would not be comfortable knowing someone else disagrees and no one could argue him out of those beliefs. An actual Hufflepuff Primary may quietly disagree, but Puff Primaries, by nature, believe in allowing other people to live how they want, and they would never cause a ruckus over a hypothetical. Unless you're actively hurting someone emotionally or physically, a Puff will leave you alone. But, not Fred. Fred has that Gryffindor Primary fire that he needs to share with the world and he cannot be wavered.
Daphne Blake: Ravenpuff (Ravenclaw Primary, Hufflepuff Secondary)
Daphne and Fred get along best through their secondaries, though Daphne is a better example of the "acts of kindness" Puff Secondary. She is always looking for an opportunity to help someone or make someone happier or more comfortable, like carrying around Scooby Snacks for the boys, and she is almost as invested in the gang as Fred. But, compared to Fred, Daphne gives off a less passionate and fiery vibe; in fact, she is far more even-keeled and level-headed than any other member of the gang, in my opinion. She is difficult to ruffle and has a natural curiosity, leading to her Danger-Prone Daphne moniker. There's a reason one of Daphne's original limited poses was her with her hand under her chin like the Thinker; she is a thinker and highly logical, making decisions based on evidence and rarely through initial emotional responses. This would make her a Ravenclaw Primary, the voice of reason and calm amongst the gang. I would say her current adopted reality system comes primarily from Fred (whether you ship Fraphne or not. Lol.) As he's the "leader" of Mystery Inc, she has taken on his love of fairness and justice, but with a healthy dash of friendly Claw skepticism.
Velma Dinkley: Gryffinclaw (Gryffindor Primary, Ravenclaw Secondary)
This one may cause some contention. Lol. No one would argue that Velma is a Ravenclaw Secondary. She's definitely a collector and user of tools, her primary tool being research and knowledge. She is a planner and always does her research before taking on a mystery and has saved the gang's skin more than once by coming prepared. So, as for the Gryffindor Primary, I used the same method I used to pick out Fred. Is Velma passionate or dispassionate? Well, compare her to Daphne, an actual Ravenclaw. Daphne is slow to blame or create an opinion, feeling she needs all the information first before she makes a judgement. Meanwhile, Velma is usually one of the first to begin naming names and claimjng she has the answer, whether or not she does. She is also far more active compared to Daphne, looking closer to Fred's level of passion to solve the mystery quickly rather than Daphne's desire to sit back and take her time. So, Gryffindor is the only one that felt right. She is out here to catch bad guys and kick ass, just like Fred, compared to Daphne who is here to observe and discover the truth.
Shaggy Rogers: Hufflerin (Hufflepuff Primary w/ Slytherin Primary Model, Slytherin Secondary)
Okay. Here we go. Believe it or not, Shaggy Rogers has the most complex housing out of all of Mystery Inc. I know, I didn't expect it either. First off, his Slytherin Secondary is fairly obvious. He is a shortcut finder, a skillful liar, and a lover of mischief. He's always looking for the next opportunity to get what he wants, and fares best against the villains when thinking on his feet and improvising. But, his primary was less obvious. I went into this assuming he would be a True Slytherin, with the gang and, primarily Scooby, as his chosen people, where he truly doesn't care about anyone else. But, as we've learned through extended characterization throughout the years, Shaggy grew up very lonely, without many friends, until he met Scooby. When Scooby entered his life, he wasn't lonely anymore, but meeting the gang was even better. Now, he had MORE friends! Meanwhile, in most media, Scooby is portrayed as taking longer to warm up to new people than Scooby. He doesn't particularly like sharing and doesn't seem to feel a need to make many friends. But, not Shaggy. Shaggy really does enjoy meeting new people and building a wider friend group. But, that alone does not a Hufflepuff Primary make. Some Slytherins enjoy larger groups of chosen people, some don't. Instead, I thought of the multiple circumstances where Shaggy has had to fight against his desire to help everyone and his need to keep Scooby happy. Scooby is certainly his favorite friend, and for Scooby's sake he lives in a Slytherin Model fairly often, acting as though Scooby is really all that matters to him. But, without fail, Shaggy ends up having to get on Scooby's level and explain that he has this need to help and not run away that he can't ignore. Shaggy's love for people and inner need to reach out and help speaks to the Hufflepuff Primary under the Slytherin Model he's created to make Scooby feel more secure.
Scooby-Doo: True Slytherin (Slytherin Primary, Slytherin Secondary)
Scooby's representing the green and silver from top to bottom! His Slytherin Secondary is equally as obvious as Shaggy's. They're both the kings of avoidance and dodging confrontation. Although he may be afraid, put him in a situation armed with nothing but his ability to improvise, and he'll come out on top. But, he is truly a Slytherin Primary, compared to Shaggy's model. Shaggy is truly the center of his world. The rest of the gang is certainly part of his inner circle, but the moon hangs on Shaggy for Scooby. If he's doing something, it's in some way for Shaggy or related to Shaggy. He goes back into the fray not out of an overarching desire to help people, like Shaggy, but because it's that person. He helps Shaggy because he's Shaggy. He helps Fred because he's Fred. And so on and so forth.
So, those are my thoughts! I'm not totally happy with my ability to explain my thought process, yet, but I wanted to get something out there with simple, recognizable characters. Let me know your thoughts!
#sortinghatchats#sorting hat chats#hogwarts houses#hogwarts sorting#hogwarts#harry potter#gryffindor#hufflepuff#ravenclaw#slytherin#personality test#personality type#personality theory#scooby doo#scooby gang#fred jones#daphne blake#velma dinkley#shaggy rogers#fred scooby doo#daphne scooby doo#velma scooby doo#shaggy scooby doo#mystery incorporated#mystery inc
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First of all, i’m sorry for my english and grammar. And this is a chapter of one of my wattpad stories named “Cliché”
It’s a Mitch Rapp fanfiction, if you like it i will continue to translate it in english.
I don’t own this gif (take it from pinterest)
I stand in front of the mirror looking at my sad reflex. My skin is whiter than milk, and the dark circles around my eyes look awful to me, the redness of the bruise around my eyes has been pierced by small thin veins.
I'm in a tough, tough time. I do not feel well. It was as if all evil had come upon me. I take a foundation with two shades darker from the cherry blush on the table. I need to have a little color, I look like a corpse.
I pour a few drops into my palms and start stretching in front of me. My blue eyes, like the sea, watched as my face began to come to life.
At just twenty-three, my embers-black hair begins to turn white at the roots. The stress is too great. I'm surrounded by people, but I feel lonely. Empty inside.
After applying a layer of mascara on my long lashes, I get up from my chair and take my red dress off the bed.
The bitter taste of sadness is the only aroma I have been feeling for more than three years. The judgment of the people around me depresses me, as if cutting me in the flesh.
My name is Jenna Lockwood and I'm probably the most fake person you've ever met.
After I put on the dress, I look in the mirror and struggle to smile. The red dress fit perfectly on my waist, and the square neckline highlighted my golden necklace, received as a gift from a good friend. I untie my hair and let it fall, reaching close to my hips.
Now that I'm ready, it's time to leave for a new white night in which I will hide my sadness and insecurities behind a mask. White Nights for black days.
I walk in the door of the club excited by the colorful strobe lights and the catchy music that sings so loud it seems to shake the club. The smell of liquor and expensive perfume was all that pleased my nasal senses. People dancing perfectly to the music, lovers making obscene signs without inhibitions, drunks and drunks falling on the stairs in the bathroom, that's my world. The world without prejudices.
I make room using my elbows through the crowd to reach the bar on the side of the club. It seems that the handsome blonde with long hair up to his ears was working hard flaming a few glasses.
“Ohoo, my man!” I yell at him to hear the music and I lean over the bar to clap with him.
He has been my friend since childhood, somehow our friendship lasted despite the years. Although he does not agree with my lifestyle, he understands my pain and respects my decisions.
"Lanna, I thought you'd miss the party!" Michael replies with a wide smile on his face.
The blonde returns to take the bottle of bacardi, already knowing what I usually order, but tonight I thought of drinking something new.
"Why don't you make me a margarita?" I ask, raising both my eyebrows.
Michael smiles at me and takes a glass of daisy from his stand, then greases the top of the glass with water, then dips it in salt and then pours tequila and triple dry.
I could already feel salivating seeing the beautiful pale green liquid poured into the glass. To make matters worse, Michael squeezes another lemon and hands me my glass.
I take the money out of the black envelope but Michael stops me.
“You know the start is from me!” he says friendly.
“ I always forget, some interesting people?” I ask, sipping my glass.
"About that, I understand that friends of the owner will be coming tonight, some dubious ones, be careful ..." Michael informed me, looking around.
I nod and offer a kiss on the cheek. I wink at them, then walk away to the bar and join the crowd of people dancing as if there were no more tomorrow.
I begin to move to the rhythms of the song Feel so close, occasionally sipping from my glass. The taste of tequilla caresses my taste buds.
A tall man with an enviable athletic body had appeared in front of me. He wore a black T-shirt and a pair of jeans of the same color, torn, accessorized with a chain. His beard was a little overgrown, and his hair was quite long with a gorgeous brown.
I approached the charming man in the rhythm of the dance, putting the glass of daisies around his neck, then leaving it on a nearby table.
The mysterious brunette moved in decline with me, giving me a small smile. He wasn't the kind of boy you'd see everywhere, he had a unique face that stood out from the rest of the males around here. The rhythm of the music pushed me closer and closer to him.
I took the opportunity to look at him closely and feel my amber-colored eyes soften in his eyes, not to mention the small drops of honey that were hiding in his iris.
“I've never seen you here and believe me I come very often!” I whisper in his ear to hear the music.
“It’s the first time, this pleace is awesome!” He replied very excited.
The guy grabs my hand and spins me around, and with a strong pull I get to stick my chest tightly to his. I notice a few strands of hair settling over his eye so I reach for his hand and place his hair on his back.
It had been a while since we had been dancing, the songs seemed to change from second to second.
The rest of the evening I felt like in a story. I danced until I felt my sandals tighten and the kamikaze shots flowed incessantly around our necks. I was at the entrance of the club, the cool summer breeze drying the drops of water that flowed on my body. The handsome brunette takes a pack of cigarettes from his jeans pocket, then carries a cigarette with an orange filter in his mouth.
"My name is Lanna, I think you should know that we've been dancing for more than five hours," I say sarcastically.
“I’m Mitch, very glad to meed you, ma’ lady” he say very charming.
I watched him curiously as he drew so pathetically from the cigarette that it was almost over. It seemed to me that he was stressed, I had never seen anyone smoke a cigarette so quickly.
As soon as he throws the cigarette in the ashtray, he lights another cigarette. The silence of the night put me back in my bitter thoughts, I didn't want peace anymore. The silence depresses me. I stared blankly under the starry sky, searching for a lifeline in my own thoughts.
"Look up!" he tells me with a smile.
His voice instantly woke me from my thoughts, as if it were a crack that pulled me out of my trance.
I conform quickly and feel him wipe the underside of my eye with his fingertips.
"Your mascara had spread," he announced, smiling.
"Oh, thank you," I say through gritted teeth.
I look back at a fixed point and am blocked again by thoughts. I have become addicted to noise, the silence is stifling.
Two young people in love leave the club. A couple who have been visiting the area for more than half a year. I always tried them with admiration, in their case it seems that love and fun are on the same waterline.
This time they didn't come out with a smile up to their ears and holding hands. They seemed to be arguing.
"I'll put my hand in the fire in a few seconds because the guy will slap him," Mitch says, laughing as he looks at the two of them.
I see the skinny blonde slap him hard on the face, turning her head completely.
"She's going to leave now," Mitch continued, as if anticipating the couple's every move.
Indeed, the girl walks away, but the man grabs her arm and turns her away. The variety continues to quarrel, vaguely hearing the girl's tickled voice screaming at him. Probably fed up with the conversation, the man hurried back and entered the club nervously, leaving the girl with his eyes "in the sun".
"Sad show," He commented, lighting a third cigarette.
I take a pack of slim cigarettes out of my envelope and light one. I watched the blonde sit on the curb and cry with her head in her hands.
I never felt the taste of love, I had a few relationships, but I didn't bother. I didn't think anyone would ever love me, after all, if I don't love myself, what can I expect from people?
"I didn't think love hurt," I say, looking at the girl as she wipes her makeup off her face.
"It hurts harder than anything," He says seriously.
“Love shouldn't hurt ... Loneliness hurts, rejection hurts, losing a person hurts, envy hurts”
“Did you list some examples, or did you say what hurts you?” he asks, looking me straight in the eye.
His question had hit me in the head, keeping my mouth wide open looking at him confused. His question was like a slap in the face.
"Forgive me, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable.You've changed since I went out, what's the matter with you, Lanna?”
Mitch kept in touch, emphasizing everything with his hand over mine. I look at him confused, trying to convey a state of frustration, then I start laughing amused. Confusion had appeared instantly on his face.
“Sorry, but I remembered those cliché scenes when the guy asks the girl if she's fine-“
"She's lying to him, telling him she's fine," he continued.
“Exactly!”
"Then let's do something else, what would you tell me Maybe we won't meet again, maybe the roads will bring us back again. Maybe we will become the memory of a pleasant night. We don't know what life has in store for us. You have nothing to lose.
His realism intrigued me. It implied to me that he was open-minded. I sigh, as if without that sigh I wouldn't have had the strength to speak.
“Have you ever felt depressed?" Instead of reassuring you, does it feel like eating live? I ask, sitting down on the metal bench next to me.
“ Yes, I have moments, but all these worries have a cause.”
“ I feel like I want to break up, like me. Sadness, suffering, hot tears and annoying looks.” I say sad
"Have you ever thought we'll drive too much?" he asks in a melancholy tone.
“We think too much about everything, every look, every text.”
“Maybe we should blame ourselves, maybe we will break our hearts, but personal mistakes that are just the basis of suffering. We build the walls ourselves.”
His words seemed to caress my soul, opening my eyes to new perspectives. Is it my fault for these cruel states? For years I threw the arrows of blame on my mother.
Stubborn by nature, I did not want to attest to the fact that I could be the creator of my own agony.
I watch the sky light up, helping the sun to reveal its hot rays, indicating to me that I should go home.
"And another night has passed," he sats, looking at the beautiful sunrise painting the sky in beautiful shades of pink and red.
"I think I should go home," I say, taking my phone out of the envelope and ordering an uber.
"Let's smoke one more cigarette," he says, as if he doesn't want tonight to end.
His words form a smile on my face. I take out a new cigarette and hold it to my lips, and he lights it with a lighter. Our eyes meet, and for a few seconds I forgot I had to smoke.
Looking at him more closely, I noticed small scarred cuts running down his rough face. I was so curious about him. What he does, what his passions are, what brings a smile to his face. On second thought, I didn't want this night to end either.
"I know it may sound cliché, and you may already know that, but you're very beautiful," he says, lost in my eyes.
I thank him and see a blue bay parked right in front of us. Looks like my uber has arrived and will break me from this desired moment.
"Looks like my car has arrived," I say through gritted teeth.
“I really liked this night, Lanna, I hope we meet again, maybe life will last with us” he blushed sincerely kissing my hand.
"I hope so."
I say goodbye to the man who gave me the most beautiful night and I get in the car, looking nostalgically as I walk away from him.
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Chosen
Chapter 6
"I see you found the strength to come down the stairs, instead of out the window." James stated siting in the seat Steve had vacated. He leaned back a bit, his large hands stretched out on the wood island. You rolled your eyes at his comment. "How was the food?"
"Quite good, you'll have to thank Wanda for me." You replied to him, looking away. You heard the stool move and saw him stand from the corner of your eye. He walked up behind you, and your nerves stood on end, your slow beating heart started to pick up its pace. You took a slow calming breath, slowing it back down.
"It's amazing that you were a hunter. I can smell the fear on you, but yet, you still have a fight in you." He said, sliding his hands cross your shoulders, slipping them over your collar bone. "Come with me, let's talk."
"I'd rather die." You snipped, not moving from your spot.
"What is it with you and this death wish of yours." He spoke tersely, his grip tightening a bit on you.
"I've told you, I don't want to be here with you. I don't want to be surrounded by what you are." You swallowed, closing your eyes.
Suddenly you were pulled from the stool, you heard it clattered the floor as he spun you to face him. He pushed you backward, the island pressing into the small of your back. His eyes glowing a dark blue as he pinned you in, his hands gripping the wood tight enough you heard it splinter. This time your heart rate spiked, and you knew you wouldn't be able to calm it back down.
"I will make this clear, child, you aren't leaving. You are here until I tell you you can leave." He hissed, you held his eye contact your anger bubbling forth. You leaned into him, rage building inside you at him.
"Then I will kill you myself and your pack. It's either my life or all of yours." You seethed, James's chest rose and fell heavily as he glared down at you. An urge to rip your throat pulled at him, your open defiance to him, your resolve, it pissed him off and turned him on further.
"Many have tried to kill me, doll, and as you see none have succeeded. So go ahead and try me, but a fair warning to you, I will hurt you." He said in hushed tone, his eyes flicking back and forth between your eyes. The corner of his mouth pulled up to the side a fang bared at you, glistening from the over head lights.
He pushed himself away from, his heavy boots echoing through the kitchen as he walked out leaving you standing there. You breathed out heavily and supported yourself on the island behind you, the trembling feeling traveling through legs as your adrenaline continued to course through. You closed your eyes slowly, taking a deep breath in before standing back up fully, your eyes opening and landing on the door to the side of the kitchen.
The world was dark through the window, moonlight spilling in as you approached the door. He left you alone, you looked down and noticed the door was unlocked, you looked over your shoulder toward the way he had exited. Slowly you looked back out the window in the door, moonlight turning the world outside a soft blue. Your fingers wrapped around the knob on the door, and you turned it, pulling the door open.
——
"Nat?" Clint stated walking into her room finding her brooding on her bed, her gun in pieces as she cleaned it. "What are you planning?"
"What makes you think I'm planning anything?" She asked, her eyes raising to meet his. He sat down on the corner of her bed, picking up the barrel to her weapon and holding up to his face but focusing on her.
"You haven't pulled this out in ages." He replied as she snatched it from his hands.
"Can't pull my old friend out with someone getting suspicious?" She quipped, rolling her eyes as she started to slam pieces back together. Clint sighed heavily, shaking his head.
"If it weren't for the fact y/n was here, then no, I wouldn't have thought twice but, word travels and I know you don't like her." He shrugged looking around the room. "And I know you."
"What does that mean Barton?" She snipped, rising from the bed and putting the weapon in her dresser.
"What I mean." He chew the side of his lip before returning his eyes to her as she glared at him across the room. "Nat, we both know you have a temper, and you've been pinning after Barnes for years. Then comes this woman and you feel threatened."
"This woman? This woman?" Her voice raising as she stormed over to him. "This girl, this pathetic human girl. And I'm not threatened, she's nothing compared to me."
"Okay there, calm down a smidge." He stated, standing and lifting both his hands.
"I'll calm down the minute she's gone, whether of her volition or death I don't care!" She spat, walking over to her doorway, she looked back at the man standing in her room. "And if she needs that push, then I intend to help her."
——
You tentatively stepped out into the night, the breeze catching the loose bottom of James's shirt you still wore. The cool air feeling welcomed on your bare legs, your eyes traveled around the open area before you started to head toward the forest.
"Human, that would be unwise." A soft accented voice called out from behind you. You whirled in your spot as the man you had seen yesterday stepped out, his skin a tinge of purple.
"And why would that be?" You asked back.
"Because there are a great many of dangerous creatures in the surrounding forest." He replied simply walking toward you. You looked him up and down, he didn't seem human, and yet he did.
"How do you know?" You asked, crossing your arms over your chest, brushing your hair out of your face as the wind gently pushed it forward.
"My.. creator," He said, tasting the words on his lips before continuing. "Tony, has made a great many of things."
"What do you mean creator?" You asked him, shifting in your spot as he closed the distance. He stopped just before you, his eyes held a warmth you hadn't seen fully since arriving.
"One minute I wasn't here and then the next I was. He created me." The man responded, the little emotion he held was soft and loving. "Tony wanted to create another for Master Barnes."
"Why?" You asked.
"Because the life he leads is vastly different then ours, and though I am different then the rest, I am not like him." He replied, slowly walking away from the forest back toward the house.
"Why does it matter if there are more like him?" You asked in disgust trailing behind the man.
"It must be lonely living a life as long as he has being the last of your kind." He said softly, walking around the to the other side of the house where a separate small run down building was.
"And you think he should have that right, to live, knowing the atrocities he has done?" You questioned, the man turned to face you his eyes turning red before you.
"Miss, though I maybe different in some aspects I am still much like he is. So I ask of you not to make disparaging remarks of him." He spoke curtly, you took a step back suddenly being reminded again that even though he had been courteous to you he was one of them. He turn back to the small building and pushed the doors open.
——
"So that's why your keeping her here?" Steve asked, watching as James walked over and flopped down in the plush leather chair. He stared at the fire roaring in the fire place, the glow from it illuminated the main part of the two story library. James stroked his bottom lip with his finger watching the flames lick up.
"She's a breath of fresh air, Steve. In all my life I have yet to meet someone who stares death in the face and refuses to back down." He replied softly, his eyes never wavering from the flames that consumed the log. "I've met countless who have run from, even when pressed into a corner. I have met many who have look me in the face and have come willingly. Yet she.. she fights it."
"So it's the fact she refuses to cower or submit?" Steve asked, leaning against the wall, watching as his friend stared blankly into the fireplace.
"Yes? No? To be truthful, I'm not one hundred percent sure what it is about this one. But she's the one." He said his eyes slowly lifting to the other man.
"I'll say this once, Buck, and I'll only say it once. She's trouble." Steve shrugged walking out of the room, leaving him to his thoughts.
James knew she was trouble, he knew had he been smarter he would of turned her in that first moment. But he could taste it in her, something different, something that stood out so uniquely different then any one else he had come across. Maybe it was that difference that would allow him to do what he wanted, that he had failed to do in his life. To have another like him, a pure, to make another ancient, through you.
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Past Truths, Present Pains- Katya and Natalia Argue, I
In a sequestered spot near one of the wells, is a scrubby yet thriving garden of various herbs, shrubs and heather-like flowers. Katya and Natalia, having recovered from their previous ordeal with Ardalion, are weeding the herb section, though Natalia strays from their chore to examine a patch of blooming heather blossoms.
Katya notices Natalia is fixated on the heather blossoms, as Natalia carefully trims and props the stems and leaves for better growth.
Katya: You seem to really like those blossoms.
Natalia: *absent-minded for a moment, doesn't appears to hear Katya*
Natalia: What? *confused, rousing from her thoughts*
Katya: You seem to be staring at those blossoms quite a bit. Are they your favorite type of flower?
Natalia: *leans closer and picks a dead leaf from one stem tucked in* Yes...these particular flowers evokes some memories... memories of the little garden my mother and I had on our rooftop. Yes, it seems so strange to see these here.
Katya: *stops for a while* Your mother...? I've never really heard you mention her before. Were you close with her?
Natalia *pauses, sits up straight and looks aside, as though recollecting thought. She grips her hands on the skirt of her knees, as though tinged by the memory of her mother. A dim look of guilt lines her features.* I... I regret we were not. We might have been, but everything seems too clear now, so clear that it confuses me now.
Natalia: I think she did love me, and I wanted to be a good daughter, but I was very selfish to accept her regret and reconcile with her.
Katya: *confused* What do you mean...? How was she like as a person? Did something prevent her from loving you?
Natalia: Seeing these blossoms reminded me how, despite our rift in her last days, she still tended the little patch of heather we planted when I was a little child. I still remember the day we planted the tender sprouts...
Natalia: I blame my mother for my condition in my past, but in reality, it was my fault, actually.
Natalia: She was relentless about beauty and social standing, and she was ruthless I could become like her, maybe better.
Katya: *notices that Natalia looks tired as she talks about her mother* Was she a very forceful person? Just how did she become so ruthless?
Natalia: She constantly scathed me about me looks, my body- everything.
Natalia: She told me a woman's beauty is her only real worth in life- nobody wants a plain woman. She told me success for a woman laid in her beauty and deportment.
Natalia: Her force wasn't fiery. She was cold, sharp. It made her seem too powerful and frightening.
Katya is quiet for a while, noticing how thinking back about this, Natalia has become more depressed,
Katya: *quietly* I see. Did you ever find out why your mother believed all of these things? Was it because she relied so much on her own body to survive...? *she wonders what this means--she has a feeling but is too scared to say it, lest it offend Natalia*
Natalia: She seemed at times, like some distant goddess I had to appease. She was cold so often. And hard too. Sometimes, her face seemed like a cold, hard, pale mask. She never raised her voice, but she had this quietness that could unnerve anyone. When she ordered something, it was like a decree.
Natalia: I-I- never did find out what shaped her like this. Maybe I was too sheltered to see the world as she did.
Natalia: She never told me about herself.
Natalia: She always kept quiet, like a silent observer.
Natalia: I only desire now she had confided in me. I was her only child, after all. She could have trusted me. *tears prick the corners of her eyes*
Katya: Did your father ever suggested why she acted this way? What did your father think of her behaviour towards you?
Katya notices the tears in Natalia's eyes and wonders whether to comfort her, or whether she should keep quiet since comforting her may mean she is taking pity on her, and she knows Natalia does not want to be pitied.
Natalia: *tucks a sharp breath to hide a sniffle and shakes her head* He never told me anything about her, except she was a tired soul and that I should not expect her to match my energy. As I emerged from childhood, my mother became relentless in molding me into her ideal of beauty. I was a homely child, beset with a fat figure. It's possible she was right and I would have looked like a pig. But my father resented her rigors she set upon me. They argued. They grew distant. Then... when the accident happened at the kiln, it seemed she wanted to repair their rift, but he grew angrier and sullen towards her.
Natalia: It might be my fault- why he died. They were arguing about me when he fell. I always blamed her for his death. But maybe it was my fault. Or no one's.
Katya: *is silent as she listens, afraid to say too much and just lets her vent*
Katya: *takes a deep breath* If you did see her again, what would you say to her...?
Katya: Would you just ignore her? Or try to reconcile with her? Or something else?
Natalia: When she died, I arrived in time for her wake. Her face did not seem a cold mask, anymore, just a tired face weighed down with grief. The servants told me she died crying for me to come back. In her room, I noticed she had all my childhood possessions- my christening blanket, my little veil when I took First Communion...
Natalia: If I saw her again?
Natalia: I don't know... how would we reconcile? What can be said?
Natalia: What could we do? Could we ever live together peacefully?
Natalia: Yes. I would like to reconcile with her.
Natalia: *tears prick and trail down, she begins crying more openly, hunching over slightly with her elbows pressed against her bosom- she trembles slightly*
Katya: Natalia...I'm sorry to hear about all of this. Would you like me to leave you alone for now? I'm sorry I caused you to recall all of this.
Natalia: *looks up, eyes still closed- shakes her head* No. It's not your fault. The only one who caused this was myself. Please, stay. I am grateful you listened to me. I wish we had met in the past, perhaps I could have learned to be more listening and understanding had we met.
Natalia: You must think I put too much on you. Maybe I am. Still, you've taught me a good deal on the value of being still and not allowing anger to govern my ways solely.
Katya is still for a while and wonders what Natalia will say next.
Katya: Your mother probably had a lot of secrets of her own. In a way, her tragedy became your tragedy, because her tragedy influenced her to act in a certain way that caused you to react in a certain way against her and caused all these negative feelings about yourself...
Natalia: *raises and brushes off the specks of soil from her knees* You are right, Katya. She seemed weighed down by some sort of fear and grief, like she had fear of something being discovered- she never revealed anything about herself, not even when and where she was born. I never knew anything except how she met my father.
Katya: how did she meet your father...?
Natalia: I hope... if we do meet, she will confide in me
Natalia: Ah! They met during Carnival
Natalia: She was lost at a Fete, and my father encountered her- he was steering a gondola because his gondolier broke his arm in a fight over a woman.
Natalia: My mother claimed to be a noble woman fallen on hard times, so this is why she married my father, a merchant. Most merchants are richer than nobles, so it is in our city- or what was our city.
Natalia: But she never spoke of anything else. When I asked, she would say it mattered not.
Katya: I see. *not sure what to say--the idea that a man would break his arm over a woman sounds ridiculous to her, as well as the idea that merchants are richer than nobles*
Katya: Was your mother really a noble woman? Since you said she claimed to be one. But was she one in reality?
Katya: and on your father's side, why did he choose to marry her if he was richer than she was?
Natalia: It caused her, in her own, delicate way, to snarl like a wounded animal being touched, whenever I asked her. I wanted to know if she had family, as I wanted grandparents.
Katya: Was it because he wanted her so-called nobility title?
Natalia: There was no to disprove her claim. He said he married her because he appreciated her mind and stability. She differed from most women in the city. She was hardly a spendthrift, and enjoyed weighty subjects. My father never discussed her title, only that she was one a lady as much in her soul than anything else. I do suspect maybe she was not a noble...once a noble, though, marries a non-noble in Venice, they became the same status as their spouse, so she became a merchant's wife.
Katya: *sighs* Do you think your father is not telling you the truth?
Katya: That he is making things seem better than they actually are because he was the type to spoil you, as you said?
Katya: In my view, saying all these superfluous things about how he viewed her doesn't really help to solve the mystery. It just deepens the mystery.
Katya: I'm not so naive to believe that people back in your day (or even in my time) married because they thought the other person was unique. There has to be something more to it.
Katya: especially since you came from a very unforgiving time, people woudn't marry for love--! *her voice gets a bit sharp, frustrated that Natalia's father seems to be painting his view of Natalia's mother with a overly romanticized brush*
Katya is a bit embarrassed by her own frustration, but she cannot help it. She feels that Natalia is hiding something and that she was brought up in a household that denied reality, which made everything worse for them.
Natalia: *a scowl pulls on her face, as though piqued by Katya's truth* My father always acted on his own terms. He was the master of his own house, his own guild, and his own decisions. Besides, what does it matter what is the truth? In Venice, nothing is real! Everything is assumed, everything is a pageant, like an opera.... *her voice grows a bit hard and bitter over the reality she was left in the dark about the truth of her family*
Katya: Decisions? Or do you mean delusions?
Katya growls back at Natalia, incensed at Natalia's frustration.
Natalia: What does that mean? *snarls slightly* Are you insulting my father?
Katya: Anyways, I don't care. *tone changes to calm again* I'll take leave for now, Natalia.
Katya sighs, a bit angry at the whole exchange that had just transpired. What made her snap like that?
Natalia: That is just like you, Katya- always running away when you confront.
Was it the fact that Natalia's discussion of her father reminded her of how Ardalion had snickered at overly idealistic men?
Natalia: Tell me what you truly think!
As well as her own beliefs that overly idealistic men were a cause for a lot of trouble, as they failed to embrace reality?
Even her own father wasn't that ridiculous!
Natalia: Yes, you think we were deluded, do you not? That my father lived in a fairy tale! And that my mother and I were part of it? Maybe we were!
Natalia: But what of it? We had our happiness now and then.
Katya: It doesn't matter what I think. As you said, it's Venice! Nothing is real.
Katya: Good for you!
Katya: I guess we just live in separate worlds then. I suppose we shouldn't have brought up this issue.
Natalia: Sometimes living in a lie is all you can do.
Katya: And that could cause even more harm, could it not?
Katya: Look at how many complexes you have!
Natalia: People can decide to love...
Natalia: that's my own fault.
Katya: Even if being truthful was more painful, perhaps it could have saved all of the complexes that all three of you developed!
Natalia: It wasn't my mother or my father's fault. It was my fault.
Katya: Love someone who doesn't tell you their past?
Katya: Love someone who potentially lied about her station in life?
Katya: I know what you were suggesting. That your mother wasn't actually a noble but she lied about it, and THAT's why your father wanted to marry her!
Katya: And I guess the lies eventually drove your mother into the emotional mess she became, with her coldness and constant criticism.
Natalia: *eyes widen in anger* I never suggested that!
Natalia: You never knew my parents!
Katya: Is that it, Natalia? Isn't this what you wanted? For me to fucking speak my mind!?
Katya: *heaving* There you have it!
Natalia: You- you!!!
Natalia: *speechless for a moment with anger*
Katya: As problematic as my parents could've been, they didn't lie like yours did!
Katya: And I don't put my parents on a pedestal and claim that they LOVED each other so much like a damned fairy tale!
Katya: They just respected each other!
Natalia: My parents had a good friendship! Mine respected each other! What is this! Pedestal! Hah!
Katya: None of this gushy nonsense, and particularly not since there was lying! How can there be gushy love if the foundation of that relationship was based on lies and materialism?
Katya: Your father said that he considered her a lady inside and out! What the heck is that supposed to mean?
Natalia: You have no idea about my family!
Katya: Sounds like a condescending insult if I ever heard one! Like she isn't even an individual.
Natalia: You wouldn't understand!
Katya: Even Ardalion wasn't that bad!
Katya: He didn't lie, at least!
Natalia: You!
Natalia: My father never lied about what he thought of my mother and I!
Natalia: He loved us, damn you!
Katya: I think your father loved you, but I'm not sure he loved your mother the way you think he did!
Katya: Your mother seems very unloveable, to be honest!
Natalia: How do you know!
Katya: If he loved you, he wouldn't have loved your mother!
Katya: By the way, I'm not saying he was a bad man for marrying her for the title!
Katya: That's perfectly normal!
Natalia: It wasn't her fault- how
Natalia: How can you say all this?!
Katya: I guess it was just stupid, since she became a merchant's wife, rather than him being a noble woman's husband!
Natalia: Shut up!
Katya's face is red now--she has no clue how she got so angry. But perhaps it had to do with the way Natalia is snapping back at her and how she loathes the idea of living in a family built on lies.
Natalia:You have no idea about my parents! Maybe you're that way! Scheming to get something!
Katya: What's wrong about scheming?!
Natalia: But maybe I am the problem!
Katya: I'm not doing that, but why judge someone who does want to climb the ladder?
Natalia: Maybe it was not their fault, but mine.
Katya: My main problem is with the idea of denying reality and saying something is SO great and SO fairy-tale like when it clearly is the opposite!
Katya: There you go again. Why do you always blame yourself?
Katya: I thought you hated your mother.
Katya: Why don't you blame her?
Natalia: You make it sound like my mother was some scheming charlatan and my father was some desperate old goat!
Natalia: Yes, that is what you make it sound like!
Katya: And so what if that was the truth?
Natalia: Yes, I want to blame her!
Katya: Does it really change anything?
Katya: All of this has already happened! Moral judgments never make any sense in reality
Natalia: But if I governed myself better, I could have prevented so much!
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Life stories: Simon Clarke
Joanne (presenter): What keeps you awake at night, like what do you regret the most?
Simon: I don't know if I regret anything because everything teaches you something. Everything we go through is a lesson in life.
Joanne: That's the diplomatic response. What's the real response? If you could change something what would be?
Simon: There's this girl, anyone that listens to this podcast regularly probably knows all about her. Well, I can't regret us ending, because she's getting married in, what's the date? She's getting married in less than a month and she's meant to be happy so I don't regret us ending. I regret being so unimportant in her eyes that we don't still speak. I regret that, more than anything. I don't know if she was the 'one' but she was a friend. A friend I will forever adore.
Joanne: Does that keep you awake at night.
Simon: I wouldn't go that far but there are days I wonder about her.
Joanne: If she was watching this show, what would you say to her?
Simon: I'm sorry I never made her happy and I'm sorry she felt pressured by me. There's this story where a mutual friend once told me, this girl who I don't want to name Joanne, I really don't. You've shown pictures there but she doesn't look the same anymore not even the same coloured hair. Anyway this mutual friend told me she 'hates me for bringing her up'. Honestly, I'm sick of talking about it but I was always taught there's no taboo subject.
Joanne: Do you wish you two stayed in touch?
Simon: Mixed. (looking uncomfortable and shifting) I wish we never drifted so apart into two different circles but the circle she mixes in aren't compatible with the circle I drift in. I don't want to sound like an arrogant asshole. I mean it's nothing to do with superiority or a god complex. The circles I drift in are quite intellectual. Political debates, university alumina, professional jobs, e-sports. The circles she drifts in are more materialistic or hobby orientated. Motorbikes, sports etc. I mean some of those people think I'm literally the worst thing to happen to her, while some of the people in my circle find those who can't debate infuriating. The reality is the person she is now and the person I am now are completely different.
Joanne: Moving on to the death of your mom. Can you remember the day you found out?
Simon: Like it was yesterday. I got woke up in the morning while the paramedics were in my kitchen. I got told that my mom had died in her sleep and as you can imagine my father was in bits. I didn't know how to process it initially so I stayed in my room for about an hour. As time passed, I just wanted to be hugged and told I wasn't as alone as I felt.
Joanne: I'm sure your sisters and brother were by your side.
Simon: Of course, but they were trying to come to grips with it too. To be entirely honest, I reached out to a friend the following day or within the next few days. It became a blur that week but I remember distinctly that the one female who I loved and depended on to that level other than my mother was my ex. I spent the time up until the funeral genuinely believing she would pop over and check up on me even after we broke up on bad terms.
Joanne: How did your friend react , how did they support you?
Simon: As we've touched on, I was a loner in school. Until near the end of high school, I was a bullied shy kid. I didn't have any true friends. But this moment, this terrible event, Matthew made me realise I would never have to go through a travesty alone. He took time out to go for a drink with me during that week and he took the day off work to go to my mom's funeral. He's a complete atheist. He think's my philosophy on the afterlife is closer to Stephen King than history textbooks but he literally walked probably a few miles to and from the funeral just to show his support. I've never told him how much that meant to me. But I'd like to think he just knows.
Joanne: I'm sure he wasn't the only friend over that time?
Simon: No, I have another fantastic friend called Andrew. I had a very bitter falling out over him trying to get me support and honestly anyone else would have knocked me out for the abuse I gave him over it. He just laughed it off. One of two friends that I can depend on, hopefully and as far as I'm concerned the rest of my life.
Joanne: You mentioned the girl again (picture of 2011 as a couple goes on screen), her family is your neighbour right so they knew about what happened with your mom but didn't she text you or call in?
Simon: Her parents lived opposite the street, but she never asked or showed concern on my wellbeing. I have no entitlement of that care. It's her right to feel or act in any legal way she wishes. I'll respect her freedom to do that for as long as I can.
Joanne: How does that make you feel?
Simon: It made me realise our perspectives on the 18 months we were in a relationship were different. For me, it was a fantastic period and I imagine for her it's best to forget it.
Joanne: Does that bother you?
Simon: Should it? People change, circumstances change. Can we move on?
Joanne: OK. We'll go to a break... Welcome back. I'd like to talk about university and is it true that you were warned before you enrolled?
Simon: As a 18 year old child. I made a stupid comment about a friend publicly on Facebook. My friend found it hilarious and it's the sort of dark humour we say to each other over voice chat and in person but someone twisted what I said to imply someone who died in my local area. Well implied the post was about them. I never met and couldn't care less about them. I apologised and thought that was the end of it but a formal police report was filed and the individuals informed my university who at this point had just provided me with an offer to enrol that I accepted. I mean top business college diploma in the county, they ripped the hands off for me. So that was interesting. The university was great about it. The police were as incompetent as you can imagine but it did teach me that don't say anything on social media that can't be literally taken. Like this will go up on YouTube and Tumblr. So anything I say can be proved.
Joanne: How did you emotionally react to this event, where what you said was taken out of context?
Simon: Betrayed by others but I was stupid and naiive. You can't be those things especially as a successful businessman. At this time a lot of falsehoods and rumours came around ranging from me being a drug addict to committing sexual assault. It was obvious at this point those who had ever had a conversation with me knew that I had traditional moral values so the accusations were as ridiculous as they sound. Childish rumours spread to squash what I had to say. My friends just ignored them, and the people the bullshit influenced were better off not in my life anyway.
Joanne: I've only met you twice and you're quite outspoken about some controversial subjects but its obvious to me morally your the other way. Severely punish criminals, probably too far in my opinion.
Simon: I agree, my opinions can be quite controversial but I'm as against illegal drugs as I love a cup of tea. Even my critics would tell you that.
Joanne: You've gone from a social media account with 50000 followers overall to less than a tenth of the size. Why do you think this is and does it bother you?
Simon: I used to be a depressing blogger with poems, and writing that was soul crushing but honest about my thoughts or feelings about myself. I then started to feel less lost so naturally started writing about facts not emotions. Politics was always a topic I found fascinating. I've always been debating since I can remember. I get off on a debate, which is why it's hilarious to mock those that call you names because they can't debate the facts of the topic. I started looking at things like the wage gap and white privilege economically and they don't hold up to the scrutiny expected in academic work. They just don't. Those that believe either of those things are either stupid or lied too.
Joanne: I don't want to go down the rabbit hole of politics because it's become who you are but if I can, I want to touch on 'getting off' of those that call you names in other words 'Trolls' can you elaborate on that?
Simon: I'll give you an example. I'm quite camp just look at what I'm wearing so I got an anon message on Tumblr once that read 'you are a gay homophobic sexist Nazi that should just kill yourself'. How hilarious is the stupidity of that statement. If I was gay, I couldn't be homophobic and gay people aren't allowed to be a Nazi. It shows the idiocy of these people that are probably children.
Joanne: Does these kind of hate messages matter to you?
Simon: Of course it matters, everybody wants to be liked. Those that claim otherwise are lying. But the opinions of people I've never met who are so ashamed of themselves they hide through anonymous, do not matter to me. The opinions of friends and parents of friends matter to me.
Joanne: You once said you were 'bad with women'.
Simon: Oh God, yea. I really wish I hadn't had said that. It was on an emotional post at 3am. It was a spur of the moment thought. I don't think I'm naturally bad with women but I am a marmite figure. I'm not universally liked. Most people I meet are probably intimidated by me. I think the women that I find attractive clearly don't normally find me attractive.
Joanne: Why is that? What type of women do you find attractive?
Simon: I'm probably a 6 out of ten, if I could lose the acne probably a good 7. I tend to fall for either the tall slim blonde or the short petite unique person. I'm quite simple like that. Then if they are able to debate or disagree with me brilliantly, I just adore them.
Joanne: (laughs) So you see yourself as just above average?
Simon: In looks, I do. In style, I'm quite unique and some people hate that I stand out. In personality, I am extremely demanding but I also expect that from myself.
Joanne: Do you ever think about children?
Simon: I did. I thought about marriage and kids but I've only ever found three people in 21 years that I could see having a life with. I do think about children's names though, I have top three for both genders. For a boy: Constantine, Excalibur or Arthur. For a girl: Katherine, Kate or Kathleen.
Joanne: Do you think it's fair when some people refer to you as egotistical, arrogant or psychotic?
Simon: It's no business of mine what other's perceive me to be. I can only concentrate on who I am and I'm none of those things.
Joanne: Do you like being the centre of attention with someone claiming you 'have to be seen to be the most overdressed person because you need the attention?
Simon: I don't mind it, but I don't actively pursue it. I don't really mind whether someone outshines me. I love a challenge and I think demanding the best from myself constantly while can be quite exhausting to see, is who I am whether that's monopoly, gaming or dressing.
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