#but even now that i'm out and regret ever knowing him the philosophy still means so much to me just in a different way

[sugared-violets]

who needs surgeons when you can just reread the book that defined your adolescence and get your heart ripped out for free

[pesterloglog]

Dave Strider, Dirk Strider

Act 6, page 7917-7922

DAVE: damn

DAVE: and i thought our houses were pointlessly tall before

DAVE: it just doesnt stop from keep constantly getting more and more vertically enormous

DIRK: Shit is downright precipitous at this point.

DIRK: Like, upways.

DAVE: haha yeah

DAVE: we made sure as fuck not to come right out and literally describe that building as tall

DIRK: Hell yes.

DIRK: Who needs small and serviceable adjectives when the most ass-backwards way of saying a thing is right there, tantalizingly hidden within the vast ocean of language.

DIRK: Like a treasure in a huge shitty clam.

DAVE: we are way on the same page philosophically here

DIRK: Who is surprised by this?

DIRK: Zero people, is who.

DAVE: sounds like a club for losers to me

DAVE: theyre lucky they dont have any members, otherwise theyd all be lame as hell

DIRK: Yeah.

DAVE: so uh

DAVE: why do the houses need to be so tall again

DAVE: i never actually understood that

DAVE: except to reach the gates but once we all figured out how to fly and shit that became so pointless

DIRK: Yeah. After a while in the game, building kind of stopped mattering.

DIRK: Except near the end. Getting them to the top is just a point of completion.

DIRK: Then you dump the grist rig on top of it, apparently.

DIRK: That lets the thing spray out all the grist from the hoard in the planet's core, kind of like a huge oil derrick I guess.

DAVE: oh

DAVE: how do you know this

DAVE: do you guys have like a manual or

DIRK: I'm in communication with Arquiusprite.

DIRK: He's working on it now.

DAVE: so youre in communication with him like...

DAVE: RIGHT now?

DIRK: Yes.

DIRK: Via my shades.

DIRK: Which he incidentally used to be.

DIRK: Like, as a computer, which he lived inside as my Auto-Responder.

DAVE: right

DAVE: and

DAVE: uh

DAVE: why... did you make that thing again

DAVE: not that you ever told me before

DAVE: 'again' is just like a stammering tack-on to that sentence so as to try and not sound too fucking rude

DIRK: I don't think it's a rude question. It's perfectly fair to wonder what was going through my head when I made him.

DIRK: I've spent a lot of time wondering about that myself.

DAVE: so you just

DAVE: straight up programmed a copy of your brain

DIRK: There was some programming involved, but also a bit of cheating, through the mapping of a captchalogued ghost-imprint of my brain.

DIRK: I guess part of it was just about trying to understand myself.

DIRK: But I don't think I would have put it that way at the time. For a while I insisted he was meant to be a "debate partner" or some horseshit.

DIRK: I was pretty young, and had some stupid ideas.

DIRK: About irony in particular. But also a lot of mostly faux-intellectual thoughts on a wide variety of topics.

DIRK: Like philosophy, consciousness, programming, identity, history, ancient pop-culture... really it ran the full gamut of pretension.

DIRK: Not that I don't still find that stuff interesting. I'd just like to think I'm somewhat less full of shit about it all now.

DAVE: yeah me too

DAVE: i mean, about my interests and stuff

DIRK: Creating him was an interesting exercise I guess, but over the years I came to see his development as one of my biggest mistakes.

DIRK: He sort of turned into a monster. But I could never bring myself to get rid of him, or even really blame him for being an asshole, because he wasn't actually that different from me.

DIRK: Like, by definition.

DIRK: He seems alright as Arquius though. At least it keeps him busy, obsessing over his muscles, asking for milk and shit like that.

DAVE: hmm

DAVE: i guess i started some projects i regretted

DAVE: but nothin like making a milk weirdo eventually exist

DAVE: it sounds fucked up but is also kind of an awesome story in its own way

DIRK: I guess so.

DAVE: maybe im lucky i was never that good with computers

DAVE: now computer ART thats a different story

DAVE: ok it actually isnt i fuckin suck at that too

DAVE: but dammit i try my best and make some magic happen at least in my own mind so maybe thats good enough

DIRK: It certainly worked out for you in my universe.

DAVE: yeah

DAVE: i mean

DAVE: i DID captchalogue my own ghost brain once but i didnt know what to make of that and thought it was kinda weird so that never really went anywhere

DAVE: probably for the best

DIRK: It definitely is.

DIRK: Tinkering with your own mind, or identity or whatever... it's a dark road to go down.

DIRK: There are enough splinters of everyone running around out there as it is, just as a natural byproduct of our reality. For me in particular. Probably for you too, as a time player.

DIRK: That process doesn't need to be encouraged or fucked with.

DAVE: for real

DAVE: my bro did cool things with computers too

DAVE: i mean nothin like making a clone of his brain or anything thank god

DAVE: just some absurd bullshit with web bots and stuff mostly to help prop up his various "enterprises"

DIRK: You mean the porn stuff?

DAVE: yeah

DAVE: but with puppets of course

DAVE: it was always about the puppets

DIRK: Naturally.

DAVE: he made all these porn bots that would just talk to each other in a chatroom endlessly

DAVE: all like gettin each other riled up about squishy bottoms and whatnot

DAVE: actually it was pretty entertaining to watch them go at it for hours

DAVE: i think they may have been teetering on the threshold of SOMETHING resembling self awareness?

DAVE: except they only seemed to apply that faculty to reach even more heightened states of sexual excitement for a bunch of nude soft puppets

DIRK: That sounds...

DIRK: Oddly rewarding.

DIRK: I mean, not to say he wasn't still a douche.

DIRK: But as a pastime, cultivating a group of earnest, erotic puppet-loving chatbots sounds so much more relaxing than painstakingly constructing a version of your own brain, and then arguing with it for years thereafter.

DIRK: Almost like tending to a little flock of pigeons.

DAVE: yeah you know he did some cool things

DAVE: it wasnt necessarily all inherently terrible

DAVE: things i would really appreciate under better circumstances

DAVE: he definitely had a lot of drive and also some uh "ideas" that warranted a certain amount of respect i guess

DAVE: he just

DAVE: maybe should not have been allowed near a child?

DAVE: sall im sayin

DIRK: Sounds about right.

DIRK: We really don't have to talk about him anymore though, if it is going to stir up more bad shit for you.

DAVE: nah im alright

DAVE: i think that is all mostly out of my system

DAVE: i mean not forever because i dont think thats how things work

DAVE: i just mean my venting fit is over and im probably good for another 16 years or so and i can return to being mostly deadpan and rad

DIRK: Ok.

DIRK: Well, in sixteen years, if you need someone to vent to again, let me know.

DAVE: sure

DAVE: assuming we havent been killed by like 10 jacks before that i will

DAVE: you certainly seem to be the right guy for that

DIRK: For what?

DAVE: i mean like the most suitable recipient of my hysterical fits on that particular subject

DAVE: there is no way i would ever tell karkat all that

DAVE: i mean maybe some stuff but not ALL the stuff its just too heavy

DAVE: i certainly wasnt gonna mention the stuff to rose or john or jade or whoever else

DAVE: if i was ever gonna do one of my patented acrobatic pirouettes off that particular handle to anyone it really only could have been at him

DAVE: except he was dead

DAVE: and even if he wasnt and i did say all that shit

DAVE: theres no way it would have resulted in anything resembling reconciliation

DAVE: which i think

DAVE: was something i kinda needed

DAVE: but didnt realize it

DAVE: so....

DAVE: thank you for being a really plausible stand in for him who i could rip to shreds??

DAVE: while still being basically innocent of all that terrible garbage

DAVE: so you end up sorta being like an avatar for him that is much easier to forgive

DAVE: i mean

DAVE: maybe FORGIVE isnt the right word because im not sure he deserves that and anyway it doesnt matter because hes been dead for years and at this point is just an irrelevant deceased weirdo who doesnt matter anymore

DAVE: i guess i mean coming around to a place where i dont have to feel rotten all the time anymore

DAVE: and i guess im lucky i got to blunder into a reality that just happened to have the exact right version of a dude which made that possible for me

DAVE: sorry this fuckin ramble is really getting away from me

DAVE: i have no idea if im making sense anymore

DIRK: I think I get it.

DIRK: And sure.

DIRK: You're welcome for me existing.

DAVE: hey can that be like

DAVE: the motto on our family crest

DIRK: I think it already is.

DAVE: all that melodramatic sadbabble aside

DAVE: i think its perfectly cool if youre still curious about your adult self

DAVE: and i dont mind tellin you more stuff about him if you want

DAVE: i know im still wondering about what my adult self got up to

DIRK: Yeah.

DIRK: Well like I said, any time you want to know more, feel free to ask.

DAVE: kay how about

DAVE: we do this thing

DAVE: when i met roxy we did a thing

DIRK: A thing?

DAVE: yeah

DAVE: its called the lightning round

DIRK: That does sound like a Roxy thing.

DIRK: Does it by any chance involve asking a rapid-fire series of questions, some of which end up being a bit too personal or invasive?

DAVE: well yeah when she does it

DAVE: we could be chill though

DAVE: when it comes to asking about each others secret crushes and shit

DIRK: Then I guess I will disclaim in advance that I don't have any, and I don't care about yours even if you do.

DAVE: it is settled then on the fact that we are a couple of cool dudes who know where to draw the line on certain topics

DIRK: Cool.

DIRK: So how do we start.

DIRK: Whose lightning round is this, mine or yours?

DAVE: it can be yours go ahead shoot

DIRK: Ok.

DIRK: How...

DIRK: Did...

DIRK: He, um,

DIRK: Come to "adopt" you?

DAVE: i was a baby and i came down to earth on a meteor while riding a pony with a pink heart on its ass

DAVE: he found me in a crater on top of a dead pony and gave me a lil baby pair of shades that look exactly like the ones youre wearin now

DIRK: I see.

DIRK: So you decided to ditch those shades for the aviator glasses?

DAVE: yeah

DAVE: years ago john got me these for my bday

DAVE: it might have been like an "ironic dare" to wear them i dont remember

DAVE: but when i got em i was like hell yeah im wearing these

DAVE: gonna rock these fuckers til the end of time

DAVE: they were ben stillers

DAVE: like literally

DAVE: they actually touched his weird sort of gaunt face in one of his films

DIRK: Wait...

DIRK: THE Stiller?

DAVE: yeah

DIRK: Incredible.

DIRK: Also, such a shame what happened to that poor man.

DAVE: wait what happened to him

DIRK: I can tell you when it's your lightning round.

DIRK: Or mine. Whatever. I'm still not sure whose lightning round it is when you're the one asking questions.

DAVE: dunno ask roxy

DIRK: Ok. Anyway, didn't mean to interrupt.

DAVE: but yeah we would send each other stuff sometimes

DAVE: me and john

DAVE: well we all would

DAVE: usually absurd birthday packages and such

DIRK: We did that too.

DIRK: Except I had to send things through time.

DIRK: Always had to figure out stuff small enough to send through the sendificator, even if it was piece by piece.

DAVE: nice

DAVE: one time it turned out we ACCIDENTALLY sent presents through time

DAVE: i mean not literally, more in a roundabout way

DAVE: we all sent john a rabbit

DAVE: but all three rabbits just turned out to be the same damn rabbit

DAVE: because of stupid time shit

DIRK: Once I deliberately and quite literally sent a rabbit through time.

DIRK: It was a robot.

DAVE: wow

DIRK: He was a loyal friend to Jane. I don't know what happened to him though.

DAVE: yeah i dunno what happened to johns rabbits either

DAVE: rabbits am i right

DIRK: I hear you, man.

DAVE: what next

DIRK: Hm.

DIRK: You say he owned Cal as well?

DAVE: yep

DIRK: Did he come down to Earth on a meteor with Cal too?

DAVE: i think so

DAVE: that was a long time ago

DAVE: kinda weird to imagine him strutting around with that puppet as a kid in the 80s

DAVE: or maybe just kinda funny actually

DAVE: he sure held on to it a long time

DAVE: must have gotten attached at a really early age and just never let go

DAVE: i guess you fell to earth with one of those things too?

DIRK: Yeah.

DIRK: But if I came to Earth on a meteor the same way you all did, then I guess I just got dunked right in the fucking ocean.

DIRK: Which makes sense. One of my earliest memories is of using Cal as a flotation device.

DIRK: So he sorta saved my life in a way. I guess I bonded with him too, the way your bro did, even if that sounds a bit stupid.

DIRK: Then again, it didn't help matters much that I lived alone in the middle of the ocean. He was my only real life friend. I mean, until I built some new ones.

DAVE: hmm wait we fucked up

DAVE: i asked you a question its not my turn

DAVE: keep firing

DIRK: Ok.

DIRK: How did your bro die?

DAVE: he died fighting one of these jacks

DAVE: at this point i almost forget which one

DAVE: no wait

DAVE: ok yeah it was the omnipotent dog one

DAVE: the jack from our session

DAVE: he was fighting like a lesser form of him and then jack got extra prototyped by dog powers and then got outmatched and stabbed with his own sword

DAVE: pretty sure davesprite was fighting with him and almost died too but then it turned out he didnt

DAVE: but now im at least 99% sure that davesprite is DEFINITELY dead and wont suddenly reappear as a stupid surprise or anything

DIRK: I hate stupid surprises.

DAVE: word

DIRK: So, you said he "trained" you.

DIRK: I'm guessing that means he knew what was coming?

DIRK: Or, some things about your future, at least?

DAVE: seems that way

DAVE: not sure what he knew or how he knew it

DAVE: all our guardians seemed to know bits and pieces of stuff and did vague mysterious things to prepare

DAVE: to this day i have no idea if he was training me to fight lord english or if he even knew who that guy was on any conscious level

DAVE: or it was more like general purpose training to be able to survive some hard shit after the end of the world happened

DAVE: youd have to ask him but thats impossible

DAVE: i do know he managed to get the drop on a meteor before i entered the game

DIRK: What?

DAVE: as far as i can tell he stood on top of it and split it in half with his sword

DIRK: Um,

DIRK: Not to be too much of a wet blanket on that rad as fuck anecdote, but that sounds kind of far fetched.

DAVE: yeah it does doesnt it

DAVE: but then again so does a baby getting dunked from space in the ocean then floating on a weird doll and then growin up by himself with no adults around

DIRK: That's not far fetched. It was pretty straightforward.

DIRK: I think I just found a building poking out of the water, climbed up, then I just started foraging for food in there like a feral infant.

DIRK: Supplies which I'm sure your adult self must have left behind for me, seeing as he clearly must have known some things about the future too.

DIRK: Speaking of which, maybe it's your turn now?

DAVE: yeah ok

DAVE: questions about me hmm lets see

DAVE: ok FIRST the fuck of all

DAVE: what happened to ben stiller

DIRK: He was deemed a heretic, and was crucified on the Washington Monument by some clowns.

DAVE: wow

DIRK: Due to his dedication to freedom and peace, he came to be seen as a martyr, and then a holy figure.

DIRK: He was left on the monument as an example to all, but thousands of faithful gathered below to gaze up at his pious, sort of gaunt face.

DIRK: For years thereafter, his followers would carve stone busts of him in his memory, capturing the piercing glare of his final expression.

DIRK: But they were all smashed to pieces by the presidential church.

DIRK: That religious movement didn't last very long.

DIRK: Rumor has it the batterwitch had a lot of experience crushing righteous insurrections.

DAVE: did my adult self get pissed about stiller

DAVE: i bet he got pissed

DIRK: Yeah. There was a whole series of final insults that led to his active rebellion, instead of just producing subversive media.

DIRK: At one point, the witch "remastered" all of his films to clean up all the shitty artifacts, and released them in stunning high-def quality all over the world, using a rational business model and everything.

DIRK: That REALLY set him off.

DAVE: what the fuck

DAVE: how fucking dare that woman

DAVE: so then he tried to kill the batterwitch right

DAVE: who is the same exact alien as the condesce in this session??

DIRK: Yes. Same one.

DIRK: And yeah, he teamed up with Rose from the same era.

DIRK: They supposedly put up a good fight, but both died.

DAVE: so...

DAVE: does john know that he is literally about to go fight betty crocker yet or what

DIRK: I have no idea.

DIRK: I really don't know John at all, or any of your friends.

DIRK: I know Jane was the heiress to the Crocker brand. Uh, obviously? It is her name after all.

DIRK: Was John the heir to that empire in his universe?

DAVE: nah

DAVE: i mean not to my or his knowledge

DAVE: he just fuckin hated that company for some reason

DAVE: i think his reason was literally as mundane as just being slightly overexposed to cake

DAVE: thats classic john though he doesnt get pissed about anything except for the absolute dumbest shit

DAVE: but i guess his instincts were right in this case

DAVE: maybe we should just

DAVE: not tell him

DAVE: that hes fightin crocker i think the poor dude has probably had enough mental breakdowns for one adventure

DAVE: we all have

DIRK: I'd like to get to know him.

DIRK: Not to mention Rose and Jade. Would have been nice to hang out and chat, in a circumstance where we weren't supposed to prepare for an imminent deadly struggle.

DAVE: yeah

DAVE: well i guess we could have hung out there a few minutes longer

DAVE: i mean you wouldnt have got much outta jade who is stuck in perma-nap mode

DAVE: just like old times i guess

DIRK: Huh?

DAVE: she used to sleep a lot

DIRK: Ah.

DAVE: but yeah there wasnt much time except for like a bunch of heys and oh nice to meet yous

DAVE: and also i think i would have still been a shitty train wreck socially if we all just hunkered down right then and there for another extensive round of freestyle paltalk

DIRK: Right, I was kind of nervous about lingering there for more than a minute too.

DIRK: Mainly because of Jake.

DIRK: I didn't want to make him uncomfortable.

DIRK: I think I have done enough of that.

DAVE: i guess jake was kinda like your john of the group huh

DAVE: wait that was a pretty dumb observation never mind

DIRK: Nah, sounds about right.

DIRK: Seems like John was your close buddy growing up, and Jake was mine.

DAVE: john and i never really had anything like a falling out

DAVE: except for not talkin to each other for a few years on account of being on a meteor and boat respectively

DAVE: but i guess you two had some buddy troubles or somethin?

DIRK: Yes. A lot of buddy troubles.

DIRK: I vaguely touched on it earlier. I was a really bad influence in his life.

DAVE: what happened

DIRK: A lot of things, that were mostly my fault.

DIRK: Basically, I think I bullied him into dating me.

DIRK: Although I had plenty of "help" from my Auto-Responder.

DIRK: There were a lot of insane plans that he hatched on my behalf.

DIRK: But in fairness, I went along with them.

DIRK: To this day, I can't really tell how much of that bullshit was his doing, and how much was mine, which I've just covered up through denial or selective memory.

DAVE: wait

DAVE: you

DAVE: you dated jake?

DIRK: Yeah.

DIRK: That didn't last long though.

DIRK: It was really lopsided and kind of forced.

DAVE: ...

DAVE: so

DAVE: you

DAVE: ...

DAVE: hmm

DIRK: What?

DAVE: nothing

DAVE: i think were breakin one of the rules here

DAVE: this tangent got too personal

DIRK: Oh yeah.

DIRK: I forgot we weren't doing that.

DIRK: Anyway, carry on. You were asking about adult Dave?

DAVE: yeah

DAVE: so that covers how he died

DAVE: taking a futile stand against some unbeatable foe

DAVE: cant say im too surprised about that cause what else is even new

DAVE: what about his early life though

DAVE: guess i arrived around the same year my bro did in my universe?

DAVE: just came down on the same dead horse i rode in on

DAVE: into a world full of opportunities

DAVE: how did i get started

DIRK: His early life isn't well documented.

DIRK: There's hardly anything to read about him until he broke into show business with a few obscure projects at the turn of the century.

DIRK: It all snowballed from there.

DAVE: i guess the one thing we know for sure is i didnt find a kid in a crater and take him under my wing

DAVE: that was probably for the best

DIRK: Heh.

DAVE: actually maybe its better that most of his story is left to my imagination

DAVE: kinda like how you said you spent a lot of time thinkin about him

DAVE: filling in the gaps of his ridiculous exploits

DIRK: Right.

DIRK: There's certainly a lot of lore to work with.

DIRK: Urban legends and stuff.

DAVE: like what

DAVE: actually wait

DAVE: dont tell me

DAVE: at least not now maybe down the road it would be cool to hear some

DAVE: i think id prefer to fill in the blanks myself for a while

DAVE: really it sounds dope as hell to imagine that sort of blank canvas life

DAVE: dropped on earth as a kid in the 70s or 80s or whatever with no bossy adult to reel me in

DAVE: and just having to figure stuff out

DAVE: especially knowing that many years later it all worked out ok

DAVE: really wonder what i did

DAVE: was i like some homeless eighties ragamuffin???

DAVE: jesus christ that sounds fairly adorable if so

DAVE: maybe i slept in an alley on a bed of rubix cubes and alf merchandise

DAVE: or maybe i offered my old school rap services for food

DIRK: Like, through a shitty cardboard booth?

DIRK: You know, like the one from the fuckin' Charlie Brown comics.

DIRK: "This is what the refrance," FYI.

DAVE: yes exactly

DAVE: this sounds like exactly the life for me

DAVE: what if without a penny to my name and the wind at my back i hopped a boxcar to the big apple

DAVE: because as a dumb child i naively believed thats where they made all the apple juice

DAVE: id be sorely disappointed when i got there but it wouldnt matter because id probably scrape together a living on off off off broadway like...

DAVE: making shitty cartoons

DAVE: on stage

DAVE: and saying

DAVE: you guys

DAVE: this will be SO much funnier once the internet happens TRUST ME

DAVE: then the aristocratic patrons of fine theater just shrug and dump their shillings into my orphan hat

DIRK: It sounds to me like you've been reading up on the urban legends already.

DAVE: hahaha

DAVE: i wonder if he had like

DAVE: friends

DIRK: It sounds like he knew a lot of people, at least later in life.

DAVE: sure

DAVE: i mean im sure he knew rose at some point because obviously they teamed up

DAVE: but as fairly old people?

DAVE: it sounds as though they only knew each other as a result of their notability

DIRK: This seems likely.

DAVE: i mean more like the friends i grew up with

DAVE: he couldnt have grown up with john or jade as friends because they were already old by the time he got there

DAVE: this cool 80s kid fantasy was probably just a lot lonelier than ive been picturing in my sweet daydreams

DAVE: i didnt even have the MAYOR god what a nightmare now that i think about it

DAVE: i wonder if all he cared about was making ludicrous shit and fighting evil pastry moguls

DAVE: do you know if he had any other interests

DIRK: Like what?

DAVE: i dont know

DAVE: did you ever read any urban legends about.....

DAVE: paleontology

DIRK: Paleontology?

DAVE: yes the scientific study of dead shit

DIRK: Not that I recall.

DAVE: hmm

DAVE: i guess he probably didnt do anything with that

DAVE: what a shame

DAVE: maybe he never even got the idea since he had completely different experiences

DAVE: but if i were suddenly dropped back in the 20th century id probably look into it at some point

DAVE: i dunno how though

DAVE: i think it would be mainly like

DAVE: some sort of theraputic interest

DAVE: something relaxing to think about instead of a bunch of ironic and stupidly ambitious objectives

DIRK: Yeah, like the porn bots.

DAVE: yeah exactly

DIRK: Maybe some day, when we're both old men, you can live a quiet life tending to your fossils, and I will do the same with my dear collection of simple-minded chat robots fixated on puppet ass.

DAVE: sounds like the fucking life to me

DIRK: What was the lightning round question this stemmed from again?

DIRK: I forget.

DAVE: dunno

DAVE: maybe were tapering off with the lightning round stuff anyway and its just naturally deteriorating into regular dudechat

DIRK: Maybe.

DIRK: You sure you don't have anything else before we say it's officially deteriorated?

DAVE: k heres a curveball

DAVE: what the fuck are you wearing

DIRK: My prince gear.

DIRK: You know. Leggings, slippers, the poofy asshole pants, a hood with some sort of cloth tiara deal embedded in it.

DIRK: Basic stuff for princes, apparently.

DAVE: huh

DAVE: gotta say

DAVE: some of these god tier ensembles really are...

DAVE: something

DIRK: I thought I hated it at first.

DIRK: But over the couple hours I spent flying back, with time to think about all sorts of stuff...

DIRK: It kinda grew on me.

DIRK: The asshole pants are pretty damn comfortable, so I dunno if I even care how stupid they look.

DIRK: And I *am* kind of an asshole, after all. So who am I to complain.

DAVE: i thought the same thing about my cape outfit at first

DAVE: felt like some bozo from the renaissance festival

DAVE: like maybe i should get on a horse and sing a shitty ballad

DAVE: but then it grew on me pretty quickly

DAVE: hardly ever took it off in three years

DAVE: youre right its comfortable and theyre fuckin magic pajamas or whatever and they start to feel like part of who you are after long enough

DAVE: i mean they are supposed to last you forever right

DAVE: kinda by definition since they come along with immortality

DAVE: maybe part of their magical nature includes this insidious quality where they grow on you

DAVE: or not i dunno maybe this is bullshit and ill just wear some normal person clothes when this is all over

DAVE: what about you are you gonna wear god duds forever

DIRK: Nah. I'm sure I'll wear regular stuff again at some point.

DIRK: If a shirt with a hat on it can be deemed regular.

DAVE: im cool with deeming it as such

DAVE: yeah maybe youre right and we should all stop dressing like tools from an infinite magic slumber party for floundering teens

DAVE: and just look like standard floundering teens

DAVE: some of the getups are pretty out there

DAVE: jakes tho...

DAVE: uh

DAVE: damn??

DIRK: I...

DIRK: Yeah.

DIRK: That page costume.

DIRK: I'd have commented on it, except that would've been casting a stone through a particularly fragile glass wardrobe.

DIRK: So... I just flew away.

DAVE: yeah there was uh

DAVE: some palpable awkwardness there

DIRK: Hm.

DAVE: sorry im still

DAVE: tryin to

DAVE: like

DAVE: wrap my head around

DAVE: ...

DIRK: What?

DAVE: uh

DAVE: dammit

DAVE: ok i guess i might have to break one of our lightning round rules

DAVE: only a little tho

DAVE: i hope

DIRK: About what?

DIRK: The personal stuff?

DAVE: yeah

DIRK: That's fine.

DAVE: ok maybe im not even asking you anything

DAVE: maybe this is just a starting point to ramble to myself

DAVE: on a certain topic

DAVE: i think...

DAVE: there is a SLIGHT chance...

DAVE: i may be the biggest idiot in the world

DIRK: ?

DAVE: when it comes to understanding some things about my bro

DAVE: some pieces i never really put together

DAVE: about him

DAVE: until maybe literally right now

DAVE: which i think makes me an objective dumbass

DIRK: What does this have to do with me and Jake?

DAVE: idk

DAVE: nothin

DAVE: maybe i dont wanna ask you anything about jake

DAVE: maybe ill just keep abiding by the code of basic dude manners on that

DAVE: if i bother skirtin the line of this rule maybe id rather ask you other stuff instead

DIRK: Like what?

DAVE: like

DAVE: um

DAVE: say one of your best friends is a knucklehead you havent seen in three years

DAVE: and unless you use ultra direct and explicit language he just wont put two and two together himself

DAVE: and also say ANOTHER best friend is a girl you feel like you had kind of a special relationship with but you ALSO hadnt seen in three years

DAVE: and shes asleep

DAVE: but at some point shell wake up and youll have to talk to her

DIRK: ...

DAVE: this is dumb im not making any sense

DAVE: lemme start over

DAVE: ok lets say

DAVE: way back whenever

DAVE: howww

DAVE: ...

DAVE: how did you tell your friends

[rpvlix]

14. What’s the best lesson their parent(s) have ever taught them?

15. Do they want to emulate their parent(s) or would they rather take their own path?

16. Has the muse ever said something they regretted to their parent(s)? - kym, sol

14 Kym

Kym and Sol, if answering for themselves, would probably both say about the same thing. Rationality, levelheadedness, a lack of emotion, etc. But I'm answering for them, so I won't say that because it isn't true. The best lesson Kym has learned/is in the process of learning is that she has to define her own path in life. She is never going to be what her father wanted, despite all her efforts, and she's got to live for herself and not some dead piece of shit that never cared about her anyway.

She's still in the first part of this lesson though, she hasn't realized there's even a lesson to be learnt yet. Oblivious to her own suffering.

14 Sol

The most important thing for Sol was absolutely questioning authority. She doesn't really seem the type, I suppose, since he's been very well-behaved in the past. But that is mostly a front. Solinas has a very active and questioning mind. Perhaps they could have achieved complete control over the family, precisely what Kym desires, but Solinas has managed to take a step back and ponder the implications of, like, everything. He is almost constantly questioning something.

15 Kym

She does. She believes that her father knew the correct way to rule, he had everything right, if his own family hadn't betrayed him then his philosophy would have been bulletproof. It is her duty to carry it on in his honor, no one else in her family is qualified. Or cares.

15 Sol

No. He doesn't know yet how much more human he'd like to be, but I know. Right now, Sol is just content to do her own thing and chill on Earth. But he's got some stuff brewing just under the surface. There's a personality in there waiting to get out. And who knows where that'll take them.

16 Kym

Of course! Queen of not thinking hard enough and also queen of overthinking, somehow simultaneously. There have been many times when she felt that something she said, impulsively (though always things she believed to be true) that she felt portrayed her as weak, soft, or otherwise an undesirable child. Plans that she should've thought through more before sharing, assumptions she'd made. Oh yes.

16 Sol

mmm... Logically? Yes. Emotionally? No. I mean, yes you are going to regret saying something that gets you hit. That's natural. But she doesn't feel regret, you know what I mean? Before Sol knew how to... bottle things up? she would often receive backlash for things he said. But he caught on pretty quick, learned to phrase things a little better while still not technically lying. Learned to hold his tongue when need be. Regrets consequences more than actions, I suppose.

[ted-spankoffski69]

None taken. I get it. The kid's a little nerd, and I'm not.

[Ted takes a big sip of liquor. The glass is already back to being half empty. Or half full, depending on your philosophy. As he continues talking, Ted just stares at the surface of the folden liquid with an expression of regret and melancholy in his eyes.]

But there was a time when things were different. I was different.

Not the tornado of sexual charisma I am now. I was even in

I was even in love. Real love. With a real woman!

I mean, that's how I viewed her. As a person! Not just a collection of curves and crevices.

[He sighs.]

Jenny... my Jenny...

The best friend I ever had.

But I was a wimp just like my brother. I never even told her how I felt.

I still remember the night I lost her for good. October 17th, 2004.

I was in my apartment. Trying to build up the nerve to make a move. You know, with a little liquid courage, right?

I guess I had one too many and passed out. Alone.

[He pauses for a moment, the melancholy turning into straight-up sadness.]

I got a letter the next day. It was from Jenny. Turns out she was in love with me, too.

Said she couldn't see me anymore. It was too painful. Some guy was bolder than me. Asked her to move to Clivesdale with him. Fucking Clivesdale!

So I never saw her again...

[Ted swallows another nouthful of whisky and looks up at John.]

I lost the love of my life to some pushy asshole because I was a nerdy prude.

So I became that pushy asshole!

And I've never looked back.

Heyyyy

@john-macnamara

Hey, handsom~

[randomveyn]

so how do you think Shuhei would deal with having a crush (who is this cute, gorgeous, little lady) who is asked who they find the most handsome in appearence? (Probably by Rangiku tbh xD. I imagine Shuhei, Izuru and Rangiku and crush hanging out). And crush is like “Kenpachi and Renji, it’s the scars and tattoo’s to be honest… i’ve spoken to other women and they talk about how handsome Byakuya is, but I just don’t see it”. (You wrote shuhei worries about his scars and tattoos)?

“does she see me or just my tattoos?” HAHAA shuhei is insecure in every little thing! i think his scars bring back some sad, nostalgic memories. it reminds him of his peaceful student days, of his fellow comrades who sacrificed in the battlefield, of his defected taicho who taught him the philosophy of battle for justice. he also thinks the scar is there to push him to be stronger, for the sake of his loved ones. (hugs for u shuhei 🥺)

✨ another long rambles under the cut ✨

as for the 69 tattoo, he's getting flushed cheeks after learning what it means in the modern world of living. but a part of him was still grateful for that incident bc he got to meet his muguruma-taicho. (got his ass saved and threateningly cheered him up too lol) so yeah, he got it tattooed out of respect. no regrets.

now, we can't say the same for the other tattoo. (i first thought it's a stripe/bandage or an accessory?? like it's just there for fashion?? lolol) i mean…i wouldn't have known why he got it. nobody knows. kubo-sensei needs to do some explanation here pls. but i can imagine shuhei looking into the mirror daily and be like “what tf were you thinking back then??” pat his back and tell him it's okay. everyone went through that phase. 😌

if his crush complimented kenpachi and renji for their tattoos and scars, shuhei would feel a bit conscious around these two. he might even stalk them out of curiosity. like “what do they have that i don't?”

rangiku would be laughing her ass off bc he got fired up over the smallest things his crush commented on. “he's a simp! that's what the youngsters in the world of living would call him!” she cackled while elbowing the facepalming kira beside her.

shuhei might go to the squad 11, using training as an excuse but he won't stop eyeing their spiky haired taicho the entire time. eventually, kenpachi would notice that and confront him about it. poor shuhei is shaking under this 6ft tall man, spilling the beans about his crush.

kenpachi just…doesn't understand. and he doesn't care i guess. he have no interest in dating and stuff, he's all about instinct and fight. but since shuhei brought this to his attention, he figured he can do whatever he wants about it. he's straightforward so he came up with the dumbest idea ever. “your woman like scars? then, fight me and get more scars!” rip shuhei 💀

okay now we've come to renji. i vaguely remember he got his tattoo after he graduated from the shinigami school. i also remember shuhei once lead his class on a field training and the trio (kira, renji and hinamori) was gushing about him.

my theory is, renji got inspired by shuhei about tattooing. (imagine kira trying to talk him out of it but renji was all “but hisagi-san is so badass with those! i want it too!!!”) so if shuhei ever voiced his concern about it, i think renji would know how to reassure him.

but don't trust his suggestion though. his fashion sense can be as bad as shuhei's guitar playing. “hisagi-san! you should get this glasses! you'd look cool with it!!” (it's so bad that ichigo want to pretend he dk these two on the street)

this is an off topic but lemme rant about byakuya a bit HAHA i rmb the first time i saw him i'm like “okay not the type of guy i'd like. thank you, next.” then i got into past arc and TEEN BYAKUYA!! HES A TSUNDERE 😍 HES SO CUTE I CAN'T!! 😫 but yeah that was pretty short-lived and we never see his tsundere tendencies again. (maybe there is…but he's more of a kuudere now) and i'm kinda torn in between “i only like him in his teenage!!” and “should i just love him as a whole??” basically i just refused to admit i like him 💀

okay thanks for listening to my crazy rambles. 🫶🏻

[shin-knee-gami]

Spare lawlight seven minutes in heaven? :eyes:

send me a scenario prompt and I'll try to write a short oneshot for either remisa or lawlight

"Stay very still--I think I saw a rat in the corner."

"Ow! Ryuuzaki, that was my foot!"

"Was it? I'm sorry, I must have been mistaken. It's terribly dark in here."

He can't see the detective's face, but a slight clip to his monotone voice indicates that he's wearing a self-satisfied smirk. He feels his own lip curl in a sneer and doesn't bother to hide it now that they're under the cover of darkness.

Oh, when they get out of this poor excuse for a closet, Light is going to make him sorry he was born.

A blinding flash of light jolts him into losing his balance, and the sudden sight of the detective looming over him--eyes as dark and haunting as ever, pale visage illuminated blue by the light of a phone--sends a shiver up his spine. It's like the ghost of Christmas past, present, and future all rolled into one with the sole objective of ruining his life.

L extends a slender hand and Light bats it away instinctively, busying himself by smoothing out the creases in his sweater. Undaunted, L tilts his head in the same analytical manner he always does when he's about to say something especially exasperating.

"Light is unusually compliant with his classmates' strange demands tonight. Could it be that he secretly enjoys spending time alone with me?"

Now that L can see him, Light has to actively refrain from rolling his eyes.

"Trust me, it's not like that."

There's a dangerous gleam in L's eyes and the realization that he fucked up comes too late. Light winces, bracing for impact.

"'Trust you?' Well I'd like to, but I'm not sure that will be possible."

"C'mon, don't be like this. You know what I mean," Light fumbles, head spinning. He vows in that moment never to drink one of the student council vice president's vile concoctions again.

"Do I?"

L's voice is low and soft like a kiss laced with venom. The whispered words linger in the air between them, cold enough to send an involuntary tremor up Light's spine. His mouth goes dry as he stumbles under such blatant scrutiny of his character.

"Yeah."

L only hums briefly in response, eyes flitting to the screen of the phone.

Blinking the stars out of his eyes, Light tries again. "I don't... I wouldn't lie about something like this. The fact that I prefer your company to theirs is a testament to how annoying they are, if anything. It's not like I asked them to shove us in this stupid closet just so we could make out or have some long overdue heart-to-heart about the differences in our philosophies."

"Light-kun is quite eloquent when he's drunk, I'm impressed."

"What? You think I'm... Ryuuzaki, I'm not drunk. And even if I was, that's not relevant to the conversation," Light mutters, arms crossed.

L doesn't dignify him with an answer. A pale, slender hand snakes around his waste, lighting forest fires where it grasps the juncture of his ribcage and chest. Light yelps as the detective hauls him to his feet. Goosebumps prickle his flesh at the sensation of warm breath on his neck. Those dark, dark eyes strip away every facade until all that's left is his naked soul.

"I think," L offers, easing back to give the other space, "you're so good at lying to people that you've started to believe some of the lies you tell." This time when he meets Light's eyes there is a glimmer of regret in his own.

Emboldened by the spark of a memory that blazes forth from nothing, Light pulls L close in one fluid motion. L's brow twitches as if fighting the urge to knit together in confusion as Light presses his palm flat against the detective's forehead, smoothing back the disheveled mop of black against his hairline.

"You do have them," Light sighs in relief.

"What are you--" L stops mid-sentence, bewildered as Light traces an unsteady index finger along the curve of his eyebrows.

"Misa owes me $20."

[aot-snk-4238]

My thoughts on AOT No Requiem (Fanmade Ending) Part 1:

With another chapter of this story coming out soon, I thought now would be a good time to share my thoughts on the first part. Before I do that, though, I have a few things that I would like to get off my chest.

A part of me hates that this project exists. Not because I find it disrespectful, but because it serves as a bitter reminder of what a complete mess this ending caused among many fans. I'm still in disbelief how things got so bad so quickly. First, you've got the people who hated it. People began turning on Isayama and calling him a terrible or incompetent writer, regretting ever getting into the series, insisting that it was worse than Game of Thrones, the list goes on and on. People who liked the ending are now endlessly referred to as "ending defenders" or more crude names like "Isayama cockriders," as though they're a bunch of incompetent fools who don't know the first thing about reading comprehension all because they just happened to like it. And then of course you've got the other extreme end of the spectrum where the ones who were disappointed are accused of not understanding the story or they're only upset because their favorite ship or fan theory didn't become canon. This, too, is very demeaning and invalidating for those who grew up with this series that they gave their heart to and cherished for so long, only to have it do what they felt was a complete 180 at the very last second that undid every part of the story they thought was special and unique. It's one of the hardest slaps to the face you can get as a reader and long-time fan, and while I can't fully relate to everyone's feelings, I can at least understand and acknowledge that it's there and it shouldn't be laughed at. Now with all of that out of the way, here are my thoughts and analysis of this fanmade ending and how it differs from Isayama's.

To start things off, I found that part 1 started off similar to how 137 did in the canon manga, with Armin and Zeke conversing in PATHS. The biggest difference would be kid Eren being transported there and seeing his older self. To be fair though, this chapter was only about half the length of what we're used to reading, so I'm sure we'll get a lot more in part 2 onwards.

While Zeke is enlightening Armin on the history of the earth and how the life form that attached itself to Ymir sought to avoid death forever, young Eren is in PATHS too with his older self, witnessing the moment Ymir found the tree and fell in it to become the first titan. At first, there is no dialogue exchanged between them. They just hold hands and watch. Meanwhile, Zeke is still talking to Armin about Ymir and how she continued to serve her oppressive master despite acquiring godlike powers that would allow her to obliterate him whenever she pleased. This is where the team working on this project attempt to provide their own alternate possibilities as to why this happened in a way that would make more sense than what we were given in the canon story in which she simply had a severe case of Stockholm Syndrome and couldn't let him go no matter how much he made her suffer.

So what are these new possibilities? They come in the form of a question, so their validity is not made absolutely certain, but they're presented as the most likely candidates nonetheless.

According to Zeke, she was unable to separate her own desires from King Fritz and was a lost girl who sought meaning. A place to belong. Tragically, King Fritz was the only connection she had in her life, so she clung to it with everything she had despite it being toxic and abusive. I could argue that these are the very reasons why she supposedly loved the king in the official manga, as explained by Eren in 139, but they weren't explained or touched on as plainly as they were here. I feel like they could have been if Isayama had just been given more time, but sadly the whole thing was rushed and underdeveloped.

Moving on, Zeke states that despite his efforts in trying to understand Ymir and her feelings, it was Eren who ultimately was able to get to her and offer her the choice of freedom. The next page transitions to young Eren standing in the clouds with his arms spread out and a smile on his face just like in the official 137, only this time 19yo Eren is next to him. Now I'm going to be honest here, this is where things started to get a little corny for me. Yeah. I know a lot of people hate that argument, but that's just how it felt to me. And before I say anything else, I want everybody to know that I am in no way about to mock anyone's fondness of this Eren over the one we saw in 139, even if it was a little over-the-top. It's perfectly fine to prefer one over the other, I'm just going to try to explain myself the best I can without coming across as harsh or unprofessional.

Eren is drawn in these panels to be a stone-faced, determined and unstoppable force who will "keep moving forward until his enemies are destroyed." This is the Eren that many people grew most familiar with throughout the series, despite his occasional breakdowns, but something about the way it was executed just felt a little too overdramatic and exaggerated. For me, the contrast between this Eren and the Eren we were presented with in 139 is too jarring. It came across to me as the fandom's idealized version of Eren, the "chad" Eren if you will, rather than Isayama's portrayal of Eren who is cold and determined, but has also been experiencing stunted mental growth ever since the day he saw his mother get eaten; side note: I know that Eren himself was responsible for his mother's death, but that's a discussion for a later time. Not only that, but the "keep moving forward" line starts to get overused at this point. We already heard Eren say this a number of times before 137 where this first fanmade chapter takes place, so I didn't find it necessary to include that at the end, but it seemed to be the writers' way of trying to reinforce Eren's ultimate goal.

Regarding the rest of the chapter, young Eren asks older Eren what Ymir is still waiting for after he showed her that she's not alone. 19yo Eren proceeds to explain that while he was able to make her feel something again, she still needs somebody to free her. He shows his younger self all of the visions from PATHS that he's seen so far, ranging from past events to alternate realities to things that couldn't be changed no matter what. Now there is only one path left that he strives toward. The one that he believes will grant him and his people freedom. This next line is the one that stood out to me the most throughout this fanmade chapter. Still talking to kid Eren, adult Eren says, "When you wake up, you will forget what you learned, but not what you felt here. This will all feel just like a long dream." Only when he kisses Historia's hand will it all come back to him. This line more clearly explains why Eren woke up crying in chapter 1, but couldn't remember why. Then he circles back to how he intends to carry out his own plan to end the cycle of hatred once and for all. Despite his efforts along the way, he couldn't change the flow of PATHS and save the friends he lost or prevent certain events from happening altogether, so he had to accept that sacrifices had to be made. In this case, he will have to literally sacrifice the world, much to Armin's horror.

To wrap this up, I'm going to finish comparing this to the canon 137, but since the first part of this project only covers the PATHS portion of it, that's where I'll stop as well. To save a little but of time, I'm just gonna be lazy and copy the first part of a quick overview of the chapter I found as part of the wiki:

So clearly, canon 137 starts off focusing a lot more on Armin and Zeke's differing philosophies and does not provide any further insight into Eren's ultimate motives like this one does, at least not yet. Armin and Eren are bound to face off soon in this fanmade version, but it looks to me like this time the writers are planning on flipping the outcome and having Eren come out victorious instead, especially when I remember the name of this project and what it's based on. I guess that means that in a way, I already know what's ultimately going to happen throughout the rest of this project. Whether it's going to be considered superior to the actual ending is going to depend on if its executed properly. I could very well be wrong about some of this, though. I want to give it a fair shot since these people have clearly put a lot of hard work and passion into this, so I will refrain from further judgement until we get the full picture. On a side note, I just want to say that the artwork is beautiful so far and I commend every artist responsible for their efforts. I also liked the song choice at the beginning and thought it set the mood pretty well.

Thank you to everyone who read the whole thing. This took me far longer to write than it should have because I'm not always good at expressing myself in a way that does not come across as confusing or contradictory. I will continue to share my thoughts as more content is released, which by the looks of it could be any day now.

[yournameyn]

Feeling Deeply

Genre: Fluff so much fluff. Arranged Marriage fic.

Pairing: Namjoon x OC

A/N: Aaaaaa this is the first fic I'm posting ever ever. It's basically a way to follow the red thread of my desires. OC is named Brishti. She's Indian. She's Bengali & curvy & an introvert. This whole fic is 90% going to be a slow burn fluff fic about two introvert nerds getting to know each other. Seriously there's like hardly any real angst, maybe slight angst about okay when are these two going to bang - if you look very carefully but basically its just slooooow fluuuufff. Hopefully you all like it. Please let me know what you think. Current Chapter: This one is loooong. Remember this is all happening in the 1960s. OC & Namjoon are both really well off first gen immigrants. In this chapter we have our couple coming closer together - talking about some issues they've both had in their lives. Also this is the chapter where you'll get to know one of my favourite Namjoon songs and like why the OC is named what she's named. Also just a reminder because im a bit paranoid - Rim Jhim (referred to as Rim) is our OC Brishti. Its a pet name that's introduced in this chapter. And Namjoon being the wordsmith that he is makes it shorter, with the korean meaning of the word.

Previously in Feeling Deeply: Preface-ish Chapter 1

Chapter 2

And so it went for the next few days, the two of them quietly discovering each other. They were finding out the normal, casual, small things - how he didn’t like mint chocolate, how she loved bitter black coffee. Since both of them worked, they decided to split the chores at home. It worked out great because Namjoon liked to sweep & Brishti loved to do the dishes. They both struggled to cook but they decided to learn how to cook each other’s cuisines. So she was learning how to make kimchi (the green onion one) & he was learning how to prepare daal (the yellow one). They split the rent & decided to create a separate bank account for their savings. Talking about money increased warmth because they discovered that neither valued it excessively.

Slowly, they began talking about things a little more intimate. Meanings of names were revealed. She was impressed that his name meant genius. And he loved that hers meant rain. Pet names were introduced. He called her Rim - an even shorter version of her daak naam Rim Jhim. He told her to call him Joon. She looked away, smiling, then - silently telling him they’re not there yet. What he didn’t tell her was that he was already making up a fairytale about Joon, the genius & Rim, the brilliant jade that makes him so.

They spoke about books the most. Between them, they had half the globe's literature covered. She had read Indian authors & Russian & Spanish ones. He loved Korean authors, Japanese literature & all the Greek Classics. He geeked out about philosophy & poetry while she nerded over nature writing & music. They spoke about how they might take a look at other European writers & musicians together. To that end, Namjoon brought home a book of love poems by Rilke.

He hadn’t told her that he wrote poetry too. He hadn’t mentioned anything because it seemed like an indulgence of the past, poetry. But that night everything changed. After a late dinner, Brishti had asked to read aloud from the book he’d brought. As she read ‘To Music’, Namjoon saw tears float in her eyes. Secretly, something inside him had wept too. And just like that, he knew he would begin writing soon.

Each week the two watched late shows of classic hollywood musicals in a nearby theatre because they’d decided against a tv in their home - opting, instead, for a record player. Meeting for a movie each of the two Fridays they’d spent together so far was an experience both looked forward to - not only for the movie. In the darkness of the movie theatre, they experienced the first glimpses of intimacy. Soft smiles, whispering, silent glances, hands caressing each other. He loved how she laughed with abandon. She loved that he would tear up during the emotional scenes.

Her smile was getting wider, warmer toward him, Namjoon noted everyday. He’d been sleeping separately since their wedding night because he wanted her to feel safe. He was mostly okay with that except if he thought about it… If he thought about a time when he would get to touch her - Namjoon almost felt dizzy with feelings.

This happened the most when he saw her read by the window, he ached to touch her. That was her - Brishti - that was who she was at her core. Reading, running her fingers through her short hair, staring out the window, thinking, looking at clouds & then going back to reading. She was still quiet, but less so. She spoke about the rain and the trees and when she was happiest, he learned, when she really trusted that no one was going to judge her, she spoke about the moon. It had happened twice in the last few days.

He couldn’t stop looking at her. As though that needed reasoning, he thought about it at the office too. It wasn’t the only answer he could come up with but Namjoon had never seen a body like hers. She didn’t seem brittle or delicate, the way most women looked - or were “supposed to look”. She didn’t care what a body is supposed to look like, at least, it seemed that way to him. Brishti’s curves were not subtle. She was short and while almost everyone was shorter than him, Brishti was just… sexily so. She’d do these things… seemingly normal, everyday things but they would quickly, embarrassingly, inspire an arousal in him. Like, that thing she did, when she stretched after waking up or even if she stretched her arms or her neck… for some reason that turned him on so much, he’d have to hide… or excuse himself. His breath hitched, everytime he thought about how he hadn’t still actually seen her body.

Brishti, too, enjoyed looking at him from afar. Sharing, creating a living space with a man was never something she thought she would enjoy. They had exchanged the basic stories of how they had reached each other.

Namjoon had said, “I’d met a couple of women… girls… but they just seemed either plastic or porcelain… you know? I mean, not all of them could have been that but that's how they… presented themselves? You… I saw your photos in a pile that the matchmaker labelled ‘rubbish’”

“What?!”

“Yeah… I’m sorry but it’s actually a compliment to be labelled ‘bad’ by a matchmaker. That’s why I was looking in that pile in the first place… when I heard you wanted to keep working… Honestly I was so relieved...”

She smiled, “At least you got a look at me… I didn’t even know what you looked like till we met. I had no choice at all. A boy had agreed to marry me - despite… me… so that was the end of it. That was the bargain with my brother… otherwise I wouldn’t have been allowed to work either.”

“Wow… I’m so sorry, Rim. That’s really… really unfair.”

“Hmm yeah… I just figured if I can keep earning & the man turns out to be wrong, at least I can leave.”

“That’s… thanks for not leaving...”

Brishti smiled, “I got lucky...”

Namjoon understood, then, that Brishti might be an introvert but that did not mean she was shy. She made him blush & laugh. She made him speak without inhibition. The more time he spent with her, his feelings poured out.

“Thanks… It’s been really nice to share this home with you. Just to have you to talk to… My life was not going that great...” he said.

Brishti nodded, even though she already knew this. Whatever he said, strangely, she could see a deeper melancholy behind it. They spoke about being strangers in a strange country. She told him how she had to fight at the library for Tagore to be considered classic literature. How she was slowly but surely, being accepted in the oddball group that ran the library. She was not the only non-english person there, so things were easier for her. Besides, true readers had always been more accepting of the different.

Something made her regret sharing her happiness about this because his struggle in this foreign land was far more intense… she could sense pain behind the words he used. Namjoon did not enjoy his job the way she did. He worked overtime most days and came home bone-tired. Kim Namjoon was in many ratraces at the same time - races Brishti felt he didn’t want to participate at all. Being a lawyer, being an asian - the ‘model minority’, being a slightly well-off Korean in a sea of white men, in a sea of less fortunate asians who were being treated much worse than him. Trying to create a name, an identity of his own was wearing him out... chipping away at his soul.

Brishti sometimes saw him and saw a great banyan cutting itself down, trying to be a shrub just to fit in. When she asked him how his day was, he always smiled. It was real, the smile and yet it couldn’t hide the sadness in his eyes. Something that was beginning to bother Brishti more and more, these days. He... had begun to matter more and more these days.

Now, about two weeks into their marriage, she was experiencing butterflies about the smallest things; Things like watching him sleep on the fold out, bringing him coffee in the morning. She felt a pull deep inside her take over when he would come out of the shower in the bathrobe, skin glistening from the shower & musky man-scents launching her body in a fantastical arousal & her mind in overdrive. Somedays, Brishti even went for a shower after he’d been, just so she could soak in his essence & bathe in a trance she had never felt before.

On their third weekend together, Namjoon didn’t have to go to work the whole weekend. He’d spoken to his superior at the firm to let him have weekends free - after all, he was married now. Post lunch that Saturday, Brishti and he kept unpacking, organising while talking (well, later on, it was just coffee & talking) into the early hours of Sunday. They spoke about things they loved, people they had loved. About fictional crushes and real ones. Both of them spoke about their past relationships. Something Brishti was delighted about - especially since Namjoon told her he was not the type to hold someone’s past against them.

Brishti couldn’t believe it when Namjoon had correctly guessed, “It was the photographer, right?”

“What-?! How- Where- How did you…?” Brishti couldn’t even form a question.

“Your photos, at the matchmakers… something was different. All the other pictures women give out for arranged matches seem... fake. Yours were… real… private. You looked comfortable… looked like you were being teased...” What he didn’t say was how much it seemed in those pictures like she was with someone she truly liked… maybe even loved.

Sat on the ground opposite Namjoon, Brishti kept her gaze on him. It unnerved Namjoon that she could really see him. She unnerved him further when she said, “You should say what you aren’t saying… or… asking?”

“Did you love him?”

“Not really… it was just... a different kind of friendship… ended almost as soon as it began. But I- I don’t regret it. It wasn’t the kind of love-” she trailed off. She looked away, smiling but trying to hide it. The same way she had in the photograph.

He pressed further just to tease her “Kind of love...?” Namjoon was intrigued because she was blushing now & he wanted to plant a thousand pecks on her. Instead he said, “So you can just… stop what you were saying? Mmm. Okay. I see.”

She looked at him then, “I’m feeling… a lot… of… different things these days. Especially because of a couple of dimples...”

Just like that, she turned the tables & his dimples appeared. He blushed, “Yeah… same. I mean… you don’t have dimples but I’ve-”

She nodded to let him know she understood. And then asked, “Uhm... Have you… had sex?”

Namjoon bit his lip, “Yeah… yes. I... had a girlfriend in law school. It… uh… wasn’t serious… for her.”

Brishti looked away nodding, as if stopping herself from saying something.

He looked at her… knowing what she probably wanted to say. He wanted to hug her but he only said, “It doesn’t matter, does it? For me it doesn’t. Doesn’t matter if you’ve had sex too… I know how people can be about virginity… I- honestly… it's just another way to control people.”

She looked at him with a mixture of emotions. She took a minute to compose herself & then said, “I’ve never met a man like you… and it's a little confusing and annoying… Not that you are annoying… not at all. It’s just the world is annoying because this is how low the standard is for a man. A man accepting that the woman has a past makes him… forward…? But of course the woman has to… because, well, he’s a man and he has needs. We’re all told that… Shirley... who works with me… she knows it too. Women just aren’t supposed to talk about their pasts. All women.”

She paused & got flustered further because of how dedicatedly Namjoon had been listening. It really seemed as if he was taking notes. The serious expression on his face, it made Brishti's ears feel hot. Almost as a distraction, she went on -

“It's crazy but that seems to be the only thing THE WHOLE WORLD has agreed on - they can’t agree on one way to make bread but they all agreed that women are inferior. It’s such a basic thing to just let me work… because I want to… but it's annoying that it makes me feel lucky. My best friend had to go through hell because she thought she could trust her husband with the truth about her past… so it makes me feel lucky that… you won’t…”

Namjoon could see the pain in her words. Maybe that’s how she could always sense the pain in his words, he thought.

After a calming silence passed over them, he spoke - “I won’t. I don’t really know what it’s like for a woman. And… maybe you won’t like to hear this, but… I was the same, Rim... I was the man my society had trained me to be. Everything changed when I came here. When, for the first time in my life, I understood what it’s like to be treated inferior. Since then, I just… I cannot be the cause of a feeling like that within anyone... So… you’re right. I’m not doing anything everyone shouldn’t already do. All of this should be normal. Expected. Hopefully the world learns a bit faster…”

Brishti smiled at Namjoon. She chuckled when tears pooled up in her eyes. He instinctively reached out for her & placed a hand on her leg, just below her knee. A jolt went through Brishti and she looked surprised. He did too. Namjoon retracted his hand immediately & looked away, blushing. That’s when Brishti laughed out loud. She stood up. And asked him to stand up, silently.

He did. It always made Brishti’s heart flutter just how gorgeous and tall he was. Someday, she would tell him. Someday, she would show him. For now, she couldn’t help feeling bashful as she asked, “Can I get a hug, Joon?”

This was the first time she’d used the pet name that he’d asked her to call him by. This was what his family called him. And her using this name assured Namjoon of just that - she was becoming family. Her question had made his heart flip. He moved without really thinking, because this is what his body had wanted since the day he saw her. He pulled her up in his arms. He felt like he was melting. She was soft. Warm. Beautiful. And in his arms.

Brishti gasped a little when Namjoon had scooped her up in his arms. She was on her toes, literally & figuratively. She held onto him, less as a hug & more as support… at first. Then, she felt his arms… the strong arms that she had been ogling at, around her. It was as if a knot came undone, within her, suddenly. And in its place, the softest silk suddenly flowed through her body.

She closed her eyes and breathed him in. The same essence that she’d been soaking in after he had showered, that she had been breathing in whenever he would pass by or reach past her. The essence that she had now become so hungry for that she had been secretly sleeping with the shirt he’d worn from the laundry basket. That essence was now all over her. Her chin turned up, resting on his shoulders, her cheeks touching his, her hands - on their own - reached the nape of his neck and began to play with his hair.

When she did that, Namjoon held her tighter, pressed her on to him. He felt her body react to his. One hand reaching her shoulder around her back, he moved the other closer to her waist, so his hands could fold over her curves. He could feel her breath hitch when he did that.

Brishti was revelling in the feeling of his hands, his fingers, feeling his fingertips press into her - that was a feeling she could never have imagined making her so... so... drunk. She was drunk. She ran her hands up and down his vast back, all the way up to his hair. All of a sudden she could feel herself overcome with emotion. Tears began pooling in her eyes again. And she said, before it was too late, she said, “Thank you, Joon, for everything… thank you.”

When he heard the tremble in her voice, Namjoon pulled away, just so he could see her. Brishti quickly retracted too - to wipe off her tears, trying to laugh off the silliness, apologising. Namjoon replied, “It’s okay… I understand… I… Thank you, Rim. I hope you… you know what I mean...” What he wanted to say, what he hoped she understood was that she was what was helping him come alive. But being unable to, Namjoon knew someday he would. Someday soon.

Brishti nodded to say she understood. Namjoon tried to lighten the atmosphere, saying, “You’re not… just anyone, you know? So… maybe you should tell me something I could do which is… not just basic decency, but something that can be considered truly feminist, you know. I’d love to do that for you.”

Brishti smiled and nodded. She suddenly felt tired & almost of its own accord, her body stretched into a yawn. She said, “I’ll think of something. We- I should go now… Do you want- anything?...” Brishti was delighted about how drunk she had gotten from one hug. It was exciting that she knew she’d be sleeping with the sweater he had tossed in the laundry basket tonight. She decided to take a bit more time to enjoy being intoxicated without a substance, together and alone.

Later that night, as Namjoon laid on his fold out sofa, alone, he thought of how great it had felt to have Brishti in his arms. To have someone who wanted to know about his day. To feel her heartbeat, like raindrops, knocking on his chest like it was a window pane, almost as if asking to be let in…

Thoughts like these, they made Namjoon reach for the notepad & pen that he always kept close by. He wrote. He wrote of being world weary and suddenly having a friend. Suddenly feeling like the world wasn't rushing him, that he didn’t need to run, that he could take time, be slow, be a poet. His heart tugged at his pen as it wrote lines about what it felt like to have someone cry for him. To have someone be full of feelings for him, to have someone to embrace his weary body. He wrote about how he missed that embrace and yet it was okay… as long as she was still here, maybe not just next to him, yet. Maybe someday. It was okay because she asked how he was every day and Brishti was here, forever. Namjoon felt tears run down his own face, as he titled the first poem he’d written in almost five years - Forever Rain.

---------------------------------------------------

Oooooh god you read it?! Thank you so much! Please please let me know what you thought! Get into my messages about it! I would love nothing more than to hear what you felt about this!

[samanthalightning]

She's Got A Date-EoWells X Allen!reader- Part VI

*The GIF is not mine. All rights to the owner*

Part V

Summary: You went to the hospital to tell Joe and your Brother about your relationship. But it seems you weren't the only one with the same idea.

Warnings: Make out sesh?

***

You did not have the best idea, you knew that. Your adoptive father is in the hospital after he almost died and now, you decided you will give him a heart attack.

Wells made it very clear that there is a time to do this, specifically after Joe gets discharged. Much to his dismay, you pleaded the man non-stop. He gave in eventually.

Now, walking down the busy hallway of the hospital to go to Joe's room, it became more and more evident that you were really going to regret this. The nervousness you felt was nauseating. Your hands were cold and sweating like crazy. You felt bad for Wells; he was holding your hands the entire time.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" He asked for a tenth time that night.

"Yeah totally. I mean— he's already in the hospital— what could go wrong?" You chuckled nervously.

He grimaced and pressed his lips in a thin line. That says it all. Bad idea.

Approaching the room, you let his hand go. You don't give it away and be able to explain properly.

You took a deep breath, preparing yourself. You stepped inside to find Iris there with Eddie by her side. She was saying something and hugging a bedridden Joe. They look like they just arrived as well.

These two are rarely in the same room with Joe around, and you have a feeling that they might be both here for the same reason as you do. But hopefully, they don't, because in this situation two is definitely not better than one.

"Got more room for one?" All heads turned to you. You walked towards Joe and went in for a tight hug. "You gave us a scare there, old man."

"Can't get rid of me that easy," he chuckled heartily, as you let go.

"What are you doing here, Dr. Wells?" Barry's brows furrowed.

Wells gave him a small shrug. "Just want to wish Joe a speedy recovery."

Among other things.

"Thank you, Doctor,"

The whole room shifted. You even started fiddling with the hem of your coat. Tense, awkward. You all had turned quiet as you exchanged nervous glances, uncertain how to break it to the man on the bed without him going ballistic.

Barry, knowing what Iris and Eddie are here to do, cleared his throat. "I'll let you guys talk." He turned to leave, not before signaling to you to do the same thing.

"No. Stay, Barry," Barry shot you a strange look, but stayed nonetheless, putting his hands in his pockets, shifting on this leg awkwardly.

A jolt of fear rushes through your body. If it felt so bad earlier, right now it's even scarier. You sucked in a breath, glancing over to Wells for support and approval. He nodded sternly, eyes staring back ever so assuring. This is really it. You turned back to Joe, letting go of your breath and spoke,

"Dad, we have something—"

"Joe, we have something—"

Both of your heads whipped, sharing a look.

"You go first," she gestured to you.

You shook your head rapidly. "No, you go first,"

"No-"

"Okay," Joe grunted, sitting up. "I know y'all dating."

Your heads quickly whipped to Joe froze. You were both mortified.

"I know,"

"You do?" Iris blinked, stunned. Everyone was.

He rolled his eyes in disappointment for no one in this room giving him enough credit. "I'm a detective, remember? You are lousy liars." You all laughed, knowing it's true. He looked at Wells, finger pointing to him accusingly. "And you, Wells. You think I didn't see those hickeys? You showed up with them and my baby girl was limping— you think I wouldn't put two and two together?"

You groaned, burying your face in your hands to hide your blush. You were not just embarrassed, but deeply guilty.

"So, you're not mad?" Eddie inquired.

"Oh, I'm mad. If the doctor hadn't confiscated my gun, we'd be having an entirely different conversation," Joe told him.

The poor man paled, the smile wearing off his face. He gave Iris a nod, and turned to leave. You knew it's time for a family meeting.

"Hey babe, meet me in the car?" You turned to Wells, eyes hinting what's about to go down. He quickly got the gist, and excused himself.

When both men are out of earshot, Barry and Iris gave you an incredulous look. "Wells?!" They both exclaimed.

"What?"

Joe was shaking his head, eyes looking on you and Iris, clearly displeased. But obviously not hell bent. "You girls and your taste in men will be the death of me."

You moved to his side, you placed your head on his shoulder, hugging him. Iris did the same thing. Not that he was very willing to admit it, but you and Iris have him wrapped around your fingers, and you know how to always convince him.

"Please don't be mad," you cooed to him, nuzzling to him and holding his hand.

"But I am. A cop and the man who blew a hole in the city," he sighed heavily.

"It's not so bad," Iris appealed.

"Yeah right," he scoffed.

You both try to make him feel better about the situation, but it occurred to you that this one will definitely take time to get accustomed to. You both went behind his back, and that's something.

You have to leave since Wells is waiting for you in the car. Barry offered to walk you, and you know there's an underlying agenda to that. But he hasn't said anything since you entered the elevator, didn't even dare look at you. He's walking on eggshells, always been.

"So, are you mad?" You broke the silence, fiddling with the sleeve of your coat.

"No. Just surprised." You thought that was perfectly understandable. Then he turned to you and snapped. "I mean, Wells? How? When?" He bombarded you with questions with his hands in the air.

"When you were in a coma. 6 months ago,"

"6 months?! Why didn't you tell me?!" He exclaimed. Your face scrunched up.

"In case you forgot, you just woke up from a coma, and the last thing I want to give you is another reason to be in one again," you explained. "You got powers, and meta-humans appeared."

He sighed, nodding. He put his hand inside his pocket, before asking, "Does he want kids? Can he have th—"

Your cheeks went warm, blushing red. "We haven't had that talk yet," you interrupted.

"Right." Barry mumbled, realizing how awkward his questions were. "Do you love him?"

You nodded, a small smile formed on your lips, cheeks warming up. "Yes."

Barry didn't say anything anymore. You know he's still trying to take it all in. His baby sister is dating his mentor, who is almost the same age as their Dad. It's quite a shock.

"Is it weird?" You cocked an eyebrow.

Barry snorted. "Yeah." You bursted out laughing.

The elevator dings, reaching the underground parking area. The door slides open and you step out. When you got to your car, Wells was waiting there for you.

Barry stood there, he and Wells were having a stare off or something. For a second, you panicked. He's not a totally violent person, but it doesn't mean he can't get angry.

But Barry just stifled a curt nod at Wells. "Take care of her," he said.

"I will,"

He turned and walked away, back to the elevator. You helped Wells get in the car, before climbing in yourself. You started the engine and drove out of the hospital's parking lot.

"Should I drop you off at the lab?" You asked him.

He shook his head. "No. I think a night in with you tonight would be very nice,"

You looked over to him and shot him a smile.

"Okay." You muttered.

Despite the fact that Barry was the one who kicked Nimbus' ass, but your muscles were sore and tense. In your defense though, it was one hell of a day. You just want to sleep and cuddle with Wells. You are so glad that you have the rest of the weekend to doze off.

You came out of the bathroom and stepped inside of your bedroom after a warm, relaxing, well-needed shower.

Wells was already sitting on the bed, tucked in, already halfway through a book. You love how he can lose himself while having a read. His brows furrowed slightly, eyes focused solely on a certain page, then quickly moved quickly to the other page. He reads a book faster than anyone you know, aside from Barry.

You slipped in the sheets, sitting up beside him. You peeked at what he was reading to see which one of literature and philosophy finest books has captured his attention again. Your eyebrows scrunched up, puzzled at what you are reading; it's written in Latin.

"What are you reading?"

"Julius Caesar," he replied, flipping to the next page.

"I thought you read that already?" Your tone changes, subtly hinting him that it's time for bed.

"I did," he answered, not even taking his eyes off it.

You glared at him in disbelief and huffed. Perhaps it was too subtle.

"So, maybe you can ditch that and let's go to bed?" You inquired with the same tone.

He glanced over to you, not showing any sign of expression at all. He stared at you and you know this means to let him finish the book he read over a hundred times before. So you stood your ground, and hardened your stare.

He sighed in defeat. "Fine." He closed the book shut, took his glasses and set it on your nightstand.

"Thank you,"

You were ready to lay down and sleep for the next 24 hours, but he spoke suddenly.

"I booked us a table tomorrow night to this fantastic restaurant midtown,"

Your head snapped to him, a surprised look immediately etched in your face. He said so nonchalantly. "Wha—" you were speechless, sputtering words, your mind processing what he just said. You try to form coherent words, but all that came out from your mouth was a laugh, bewildered. "A-are you taking me out on a date?"

He grinned, clearly amused with your reaction. "Yes. It's time we have some decent steaks, don't you think?" You swatted his chest, shooting him daggers, while he laughed. You swore to God if you perfected cooking steak, it'll be the death of him.

"I mean it." He ceased laughing, taking a hold of your hand. "I have a lot to make up for. And I'm gonna start by treating you like a queen. My queen." He planted a kiss on your knuckles.

You cupped his cheek, narrowing your eyes at him. "You're lucky I love you," you murmured, leaning into him.

"Oh, I know." He chuckled.

You giggled, capturing his lips, and kissed him sweetly. He deepened the kiss, slowly getting passionate. His tongue roamed inside your mouth, you tried to fight for dominance, but surrender to him eventually.

His hands moved up and down your body, then settled on your boyshorts clad bum. He caressed it with his long fingers and squeezed it tightly, before he slapped it, the smacking noise resounded in your room, startling you a bit. You couldn't help but moan, you feel pleasure alighting in the pit of your stomach. Your hand palmed his chest, bunching up his shirt tightly. You were getting carried away, and he as well. You pulled away gently, catching your breath.

"I just wanna cuddle and sleep tonight," You murmured, running the pads of your thumb across his cheek.

"Is that why you didn't wear pyjamas, Miss Allen?" He teased and squeezed your bum once more.

"What? They're comfy," you grinned.

"Right," he chuckled. "Okay." He gave you a last peck on the lips, before turning off your lamp.

You both lay down, he wrapped his arms around, protectively. Your tense and tired body relaxed, as you snuggled up against him. Like a small child, you felt in his arms; a sense of security and the feeling of home washed over you.

You looked up to him and saw that he was in some sort of daze, caught up in his own world and yet aware of his surroundings. His eyes were gazing up to your ceiling. There isn't really anything special on the ceiling, except mold. You pondered what he was thinking about. Perhaps how much of a rollercoaster ride the last 24 hours was?

"I am so glad we worked everything out today," you began. "I don't know if I can sleep tonight if we didn't talk,"

"Me too," he replied, rubbing his thumb against the skin of your shoulder, absentmindedly, didn't even glance up to you.

"I was scared, you know, I thought I was actually gonna lose you," you added in a whispered voice.

He exhaled. "So did I. I'm sorry I made you feel that way,"

"S'okay. I'm sorry I snapped at you." You couldn't take it anymore, your eyes were feeling heavy and they fluttered close.

"It's alright. I understand,"

You nuzzled your head on his chest, hearing his faint heartbeat and the rise and fall of his chest, slowly lulling you to sleep.

He kissed your hair softly, then murmured. "Good night,"

"Good night,"

You can feel yourself falling deep into sleep in a matter of seconds.

You both slept in until 11 am, and you were more than glad that you were able to get him to stay. You didn't even have to plead.

It wasn't until you were having brunch— he cooked, which was for the best. Apparently, he saw you cook eggs before— that it occurred to you that it's really happening. You're going on a date. Tonight. An actual date. You repeatedly told yourself a hundred times today, still not able to wrap your head around it.

You were nervous. Although, you played it off.

You didn't want him to know you were nervous more than you were excited in fear that he'd cancel. And you didn't want to miss out on a highly possibly great date with a great man. You literally fought for this. You can't chicken out.

It's just that your experiences with dates were, well, not so much—the men you went out with were not so much. They tend to turn out pretty boring, pointless and often self-centered. They ditch you or you ditch them. It was a restless cycle and it exhausted you. So, you just never go to one. And it's not like you're going out with some random dude. It's Harrison freaking Wells!

So as soon as he left your apartment after brunch to go home, you panicked for a certain amount of time, then called someone who could help you.

You stood in front of the mirror, staring at your reflection, while holding a dress over your frame. You tilted your body left and right, face scrunched up, obviously not pleased with the dress. It's too skimpy, too tight, too short for your liking. You don't even remember buying this dress.

You huffed loudly. "I look like a stripper." You threw the dress on top of a pile of clothes on your bed. You and Iris have gone through your entire wardrobe collection, and no perfect dress is turning up.

"How about this?" Iris walked to you with a bunch of hangers in her hand, showing you a particularly bright red dress. The last thing you want was Wells to look like he's your sugar daddy.

You shook your head. "Too bold." She threw the dress. Underneath the red dress was a long, ruffled sleeves dress, which you knew you only bought from a thrift shop, because it was so cheap. The color faded, at some point you were convinced that it was from the 1940s, although it's still pretty decent

"Yeah, if I want to look like Grandma Esther," you snickered.

She sighed exasperated as yet another piece of clothing was added to the pile. Iris held out what seemed to be the final dress she had. She raised an eyebrow, eyes were basically pleading you to choose it. You can't blame her. You are one picky girl.

It was beautiful. Your eyes lit up at the sight of itl; beige, knee-length and made of silk— with frills. Exaggerated as this may sound, but as if on cue, the angels sang with their angelic voices the moment you laid eyes on it.

"Perfect," you mumbled.

"Oh thank God," Iris groaned. She picked up a pair of heels by the edge of the bed. "I picked out these shoes for you; they'll match with that," she added, handing it both to you.

You dashed off to the bathroom to put on your outfit. As soon as you came out, you checked yourself out in the mirror. You were right; it suited you so well. You still feel sexy wearing it, but it wasn't screaming at your face. You still retain a respectable, elegant demeanor.

From the side of your mirror, you saw Iris standing behind you, arms folded, watching you fondly.

"What?" You broke her out of her reverie.

She smiled softly. "Nothing. You look amazing,"

"Anything else?" You raised your eyebrows, looking at her through the mirror, knowing there's more to it than she says.

She shrugged, shaking her head. "I just can't believe it— you're dating Harrison Wells," she sounded as shocked as she was yesterday.

If you were being honest, you can't quite believe it as well.

"Yup. Much to Joe's dismay," you chuckled, although you couldn't help to frown. Iris quickly saw it.

She walked to you, wrapped her arms around you from behind and rested her chin on your shoulder.

"Ignore him. He'll get it over it,"

He will, you are certain of it. But it doesn't mean it wouldn't be nice if he was fully supporting it. He didn't say anything to discourage it, he probably isn't going to say anything about it ever, but you know he's not a fan of it.

"Yeah. Hopefully soon," you murmured.

"Although, it is Harrison Wells," she started. You rolled your eyes and groaned internally. "I'm not even done— I just mean, it's something that's going to take time for people to warm up about this. He blew up a hole in the city and he's much older than you,"

"I know that, Iris," you exhaled audibly. You didn't need a reminder of that. You tell yourself that everyday for the last 6 months.

"I know you know that. My point is that this relationship is gonna go through a lot of tribulations, and I just want you to prepare yourself for it. I just don't want you to get hurt, okay?" She sounded so motherly, locking eyes with you.

You frowned, but nodded. You understand her point, you really do. Joe, Barry and the rest of the team, you know they genuinely care for you. But this is your relationship, and you know when it comes to love, it has it's own challenges and pain and it's something you have to deal with.

Abruptly, you heard multiple knocks all the way from the living room.

"He's here," you whispered.

You both quickly shuffled, you grabbed your purse, making sure you got everything you needed inside. Iris fixed your hair, tucking in some strand that stuck out.

Then, there's your pile of clothes on your bed that's not gonna clean itself. You panicked for a second there. Wells was outside, and you're pretty sure you're both gonna crash here after.

"Go! I got this!" Iris ordered you. You hesitated, because you know she's not going to do it. But Wells knocked some more. Much to your surprise, Iris already started hanging the dresses. So you leave it all to fate— and Iris—, and head for the door.

You took a deep breath, taking it all in. This is it. This is really it.

You opened the door, putting on a shaky smile. "Hey," you mumbled.

He cleaned up well. You don't know what it is with a suit minus the tie, but you absolutely love it on your man.

His eyes raked you up and down, mesmerized by you, jaws dropped. He looked at you with those blue orbs, glinting in the way that is so not good. He just never saw get dressed up before. All the time you just wore your normal, often coffee-stained clothes.

"You look absolutely ravishing." The way those words rolled off his tongue made you weak to your knees and you flushed slightly.

"Thanks. You're not so bad yourself," you said shyly.

He helped out his hand to you, lifting an eyebrow. "Let's go?"

You nodded, intertwining your fingers with his.

You closed your door, as you stepped out of your apartment. And as you walked down the hallway, your heart was thundering like crazy, so nervous and excited.

God, you hope this date turns out well.

***

How do you all think the date will turn out? Anyway, I'd appreciate it if you share this and give it some love. Thanks!

Part VII

[rawresparza]

It has been a crappy past few days, and I turn out to be not very good at being supported and/or comforted. But I suspect I'm not the only one. May I please prompt you to show us Rafael learning to be loved by Sonny? I bet it wasn't easy for him. Please and thank you?

HI, anon! I’m so sorry you’ve had a rough few days and I hope things have at least started to look up. I totally understand what you mean because I have a hard time in that regard, too, and sometimes I still struggle with it. I definitely agree Rafael would, as well. I hope this is at least a little bit along the lines of what you were thinking and if not, I hope it’s still okay. May the rest of your week be brighter

–

Rafael has had a grand total of approximately seven hours of sleep, forty-eight hours of a migraine, and zero hours of patience over the last three days and if anyone would bother to ask, he’d say he’s very much fed up with it.

Well, no, that’s not true at all. A number of people have asked, Sonny has asked him so many times he’d lost count, and he’d only responded with increasingly gruff versions of “I’m fine.” Sonny knows damn well he’s not fine, he hadn’t been fine when the defense had dropped a surprise fucking witness on this case and he hadn’t been fine when he’d popped prescription ibuprofen for the umpteenth time, even though it hardly ever works to get rid of the pounding in his head.

But he can’t slow down, he doesn’t know how, that’s not in his blood. Always keep moving, keep busy, that had been his philosophy as a kid because it’d meant maybe, just maybe, he could avoid a bad evening at home or a run-in with some older boy or another he’d mouthed off to that day. Either way, slowing down would mean risking getting caught in someone’s snare, and coming up with new excuses for his bruises for concerned teachers or the school nurse or even the ER doctors was never worth the trouble.

Upon deeper reflection, he supposes one could make the argument that at this point in his life, he’s really just running away from the very thing that could help him: taking a break, taking a breath, letting someone take care of him. He’s just not used to that and seven months into this relationship with Sonny, Rafael is a little concerned he never will be. Comforting other people has never been his forte and he’s even worse when it comes to being comforted but that’s why he’s never made any real effort to make friends. He’d had Eddie and Alex and even Yelina as a kid; but with friends like them, why would he dare pursue anything like that as an adult? Getting close to people had only ever led to getting hurt, in his experience.

Sonny had somehow managed to evade the walls he’d carefully built up around himself over the past couple decades, Rafael has no idea how he’d done it. A few invitations out to coffee then drinks then dinner, that absurd Staten Island accent murmuring sweet nothings in his ear, a kiss on a rooftop with a half-decent view of the Manhattan skyline, these are all things that had led Rafael down the path to his own demise; that is to say, he’d let himself fall in love. He doesn’t regret that, he could never regret that, but sometimes, Rafael feels like maybe he doesn’t deserve it.

This is one of those times.

With Buchanan and his piece of shit client looking all kinds of arrogant on the evening news, Rafael’s mood has taken a turn from bad to awful. He’d popped another two ibuprofen against the advice of his boyfriend–

“Did you finally hit up Fordham for your medical degree while I wasn’t looking?”

–and now he’s feeling especially petty because Sonny had been right, he shouldn’t have done it, especially not on an empty stomach. He’s had seven coffees and half a stale granola bar he’d found buried in his office desk drawer today. When Sonny had asked what Rafael wanted him to bring home for dinner, Rafael had lied and said he’d already eaten.

Why? He doesn’t know. Maybe he’s just always been a sucker for self-sabotage, old habits die hard. It’s easier to push people away than admit he could use the help.

He can feel Sonny watching him watch the news and it’s unnerving. His body betrays him, works against him, tenses up even though he doesn’t want to draw attention to the fact that he’s getting more and more irritated by the second, by virtue of the fact that Sonny is simply existing beside him. That isn’t fair, he knows that, but he also knows Sonny will earnestly try to offer any form of assistance possible and that’s the opposite of what Rafael wants. What he wants is to be left alone to wallow in his frustration, he wants Sonny to go back to his own damn apartment so he can get sufficiently buzzed off a few pours of the good scotch he saves for shittier days before hopefully getting another hour of sleep.

Instead, Sonny’s hand finds its way to the nape of his neck, fingertips playing with the ends of Rafael’s hair. It feels good. He’s not used to feeling good. Before Sonny, he’d barely remembered what it was like to feel at all. On better days, things between them are incredible, it’s like living in fantasy world compared to what Rafael’s previous, much more short-lived romances; but on days like this, he wishes he was still alone. At least he has the decency to feel bad about that, he supposes.

“You should turn that off,” Sonny says, tilting his head toward the TV screen. Rafael purses his lips, the lines at the corners of his eyes deepening, but Sonny doesn’t heed the warning. “And you should eat something. Carmen told me she only saw you guzzling coffee during recesses.”

“Carmen’s not my mother and neither are you,” Rafael says. He doesn’t bother to hide his bitterness but Sonny doesn’t even flinch. It’s a little infuriating.

“No, I’m your boyfriend,” Sonny says patiently. Sonny’s fingers travel up over Rafael’s hair, webbing out over his scalp and pulsing just slightly at just the right pressure points. It sends a shiver down Rafael’s spine and his eyes flutter shut as a relieved sigh escapes him. “I’m your boyfriend, and I love you, and I really wish you’d just let me do something to help you. Feed you, hold you, tell you nice things, whatever. Anything.”

Rafael slowly blinks his eyes back open, still reeling a bit from how much tension has already left his body just from one gentle massage. But it’s not the massage, it’s Sonny. Of course it’s Sonny, it’s always been Sonny. “Okay. Tell me something nice.” It’s conceding without conceding, he’s really just testing the waters, but he turns the TV off anyway and his heart flutters in his chest when he’s met with a pair of dimples.

“I got the recipe for your favorite dish from your ma.” Sonny hesitates, studying Rafael for a reaction. “She said she used to make it for you when– well, when things weren’t so good at home. I’m sure it won’t be as good as how she does it but…” He trails off when Rafael straightens up in his spot on the couch, shaking Sonny’s hand from his head. “I’m sorry, did I overstep?”

Rafael catches Sonny’s hand before he can pull it away, shaking his head, a look of awe taking over his expression. “You called my mom? You did that for me?”

“You’ve just been so stressed out,” Sonny says, lowering his eyes sheepishly. “This case has been rough, I know, but you’re barely sleeping and I’m sorry, you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen in my life, but Raf, you seriously look like you might keel over any second. I just figured, if you won’t take care of yourself, I can do it for you until things get back to normal.”

Swallowing hard, Rafael considers Sonny’s words, turning them over in his mind, examining them piece by piece. It’s not a hard bargain Sonny’s driving, he suspects most people would be thrilled to have their significant others say something like that to them. It’s just that over the years, he’s developed a habit of being suspicious of those who extend kindness his way. He’s not proud of that but it is what it is.

Maybe it’s time he starts to unlearn that. Maybe it’s time he starts trusting Sonny not just with the good but with the bad and everything in between. It’s time he starts getting used to the idea Sonny isn’t going to run when things get hard

“It’s hard for me,” Rafael admits. “I’m not great at the whole asking for support thing.”

“No kidding,” Sonny teases, arching a brow.

Rafael’s smile reaches his eyes, genuine but brief before he takes on an air of sincerity again. “I want to be better at it. That might take time, but I want to let you in.”

“Well, lucky for you, I’m very patient when it comes to gorgeous, green-eyed ADAs. Especially ones with really short fuses.”

“You’re going to take a dig at me while I’m opening up to you?” Rafael asks, huffing with mock indignance. Even as he does, he settles in next to Sonny, lowering his cheek to his boyfriend’s shoulder and smiling against the soft fabric of a Fordham Law shirt while Sonny’s arm drapes over his shoulder.

“To be fair, I complimented you in the same breath, so those clearly cancel each other out.”

They laugh together and it’s like the air has cleared. The room feels different. Sonny kisses his hair, and Rafael doesn’t even consider pulling away. He’s found an anchor in Sonny, a happy place in Sonny’s arms. Somehow, he’d stumbled into this, having no idea what to expect. Rafael had never imagined he’d be this fortunate.

“By the way,” Sonny says, “I picked up some kung pao and fried rice for you at the Chinese place we like. I’ll heat it up for you if you want it.”

God, he loves this man. With every last part of himself, Rafael loves Sonny more than he’d thought he had the capacity to love someone. It surprises him, every single day, the ferocity with which he feels for this one person because he’s never felt that with anyone else before. Sometimes he cringes at himself for throwing the word “soulmate” around in his head because that’s not like him, that isn’t a concept he’s ever believed in, but Sonny has a way of making Rafael believe in the impossible.

Tomorrow, when he’s back in court, he’s sure he’ll be pissy and snappy and anyone who crosses his path will suffer his wrath; but at the end of the day, he’ll remember he has this. He has Sonny.

That makes it all worth it.

[hashtagsmitty]

Smitty's Thailand Adventure - Day 7

Goddamn happened again - I spent two hours on this post and my phone deleted it.

In which snakes get tortured, an expatriot hero is honored, a suit is fitted, and axes don't get thrown.

I slept weird again last night - I'm not used to box spring mattresses. I have a Koala foam mattress and April has a futon, so springs poking me in the ass all night is a new experience for me. Plus the air con, it's hot then it's cold, etcetera.

Usual morning routine - the Hitler Youth and White Family Mart for breakfast. I planned my day while I ate - I wanted to visit the snake farm. Technically, the late queen's memorial snake farm. I thought that sounded awesome.

Skytrain to Siam, swapped to the other line. Not much new to say about the skytrain except there's this jingle that one of the ads plays that I will never get out of my head. Also, there's barriers around some but not all of the platforms, and the train stops perfectly such that the doors are between the openings in the barriers. It's pretty special.

Crazy Thai traffic aside, I made it to the snake farm. It looked like something out of the Walking Dead:

It was mostly the rust on the spikes. And the overgrowth. And the barriers in front of the entrance. And the red cross trucks unloading pallets of gear. I did not think I was supposed to be in there, but the sign said this way to snake farm, so in I went.

I found the place fine. Once I got past the zombie movie shit anyway. The farm looked awesome!

It was a big pagoda with open air snake enclosures all over the place. Very tropical, very novel. There was a big old rat in one of the enclosures. I watched him for ages to see if a snake was going to get him, but he was as still as a statue, with only his tiny rat ears twitching.

After the pagoda was an indoor museum - much the same, but with single cages for each snake. With glass. It wasn't quite what I expected from a Thai snake farm - far more like a zoo than a snake farm. Not enough zero-fucks-given Thai dudes with snakes wrapped around them. I looked at the snakes for a while. This guy was my favourite:

He's a Malayan Mangroce Cat-Eye Snake. I think he's gorgeous. I also thing I have a thing for snakes. They're like nature's ropes.

There was maintenance work going on inside - some drilling or digging or something. Lots of noise. I found it unpleasant, and I'm not a creature whose entire experience of the world is through vibrations. I didn't stay long inside, and left straight after.

I'm not 100% certain that I would never get a snake as a pet. I was before the snake farm, but now I'm not sure.

On the way back to Siam, I saw the Jim Thompson store! I had to go inside and pay my respects to a true expatriot hero.

Thompson's business was selling Thai silk, so the entire store was silk scarves and shirts and other stuff. Expensive silk stuff - one shirt was $200. The cheapest thing I saw was a scrunchie for $40. I looked around for a while then left, richer for having experienced the life of a great man. Also richer for not having bought any of that tourist bait.

I went back to Siam and went book shopping. I had almost finished Growth Mindset and needed something else for the plane. I found this awesome bookshop:

It took up the whole floor, it was so big. It had the largest non-fiction section I'd ever seen. I spent an hour walking around looking at stuff. It was great. I love bookshops.

I bought Meditations, by Marcus Aurelius, a stoic philosophy book I've been meaning to read for ages. I also got The King in Yellow, by Robert W. Chambers. Lovecraft listed it as one of his influences, and I love spooky.

The coolest bit was that the clerk wrapped the two books in plastic to keep them safe. I thought that was a really cool idea, and I was impressed by how quickly she wrapped them - like 5 seconds each. I only noticed later that the plastic had the store's logo on it - even better, now I won't forget its name.

I went home via Thai KFC. I wanted to try it before I left. I knew it was a mistake going in. I always know that KFC is a mistake going in, but this was bad. Weak McDonald's style chips, boring chicken "pops". A waste of time, what with bonchon around the corner. I regret it immensely.

I went home and chilled out for a while - it's been a big week. I've walked a good 75km, according to my phone. I finished Growth Mindset and wrote some notes, listened to music, charged my phone, lazy stuff. Josh texted me and I met him at my station. We went back past Siam to a station near the tailor.

We got bonchon chicken for a late lunch/early dinner. It was great - best I've had in Thailand, and way better than the culinary abortion I had for lunch before. I distracted Josh with a game I've been playing :

It's a programming game, which is 100% Josh's thing. He hated it, but couldn't keep his hands off it. It's based on Assembly, a really old programming language. The first one, pretty much. It frustrated him because it wasn't like normal programming, but I thought it was a good challenge in thinking iteratively.

We walked to the tailor from bonchon. I cursed that I was going to be fat for the fitting. Josh could barely move - we got 18 pieces of chicken and he had 12 of them. I was still full from my mistake earlier.

On the way, I told Josh how frustrated I was with Bangkok's footpaths. There are lips and cracks and broken bits of concrete everywhere. Manhole covers that could drop you into a sewer if you're not careful. Just look at this:

That's a tame one. I've lost count of how many of these things I've tripped over. Or on trick edges to the footpath - step down onto the road, expect it to be level, nope there's another step down, don't you look smart. Or, walking down the steps from the skytrain, again, expect it to be level. Nope! It's on a raised platform, enjoy your trip, see you next fall.

Josh told me to not stand on the manholes.

We walked past some massage girls. I finally saw first hand what Josh has been talking about all week - they pretty much screamed at him. "hey handsome man," they'd say, and he'd say "no thank you," and they'd say "come over here sexy," and he'd say "no thanks". It looked uncomfortable for everyone involved.

I don't know if I Iook less approachable, less wealthy, less naive or less desperate, but none of them have reacted to me like that. Maybe it's because he's 6'3".

We got to the tailor. The suit was almost ready :

Looks awesome - the vest turned out exactly how I wanted it to. The tailor is going to courier it to the hotel tomorrow after some last minute changes. I hope.

We walked back to the skytrain, but the foot traffic was terrible. Peak hour in Bangkok is insane compared to Melbourne. We couldn't even get onto the platform last time we tried. So, we sat down at Starbucks and shot the shit for a while. I showed him my notes on Growth Mindset, and we argued about that a while. He talked about how he was going to do some of Bill's contract, then renegotiate. Seemed reasonable.

We headed home around 8 - our earliest night this week, but it's been a big one for both of us. Josh is moving to a new condo tomorrow. The train ride back was bittersweet - it's been a fun holiday. We both said while walking around that there's very few people either of us could hang out with for a full week without going crazy. He's probably coming back to Melbourne next month though, so it's not too bad.

I'm going to miss him when I head back. But I'm not going to miss much else. Bangkok is -

I guess I'll save my thoughts on the city for when I'm safely no longer in it.

I found this set of signs on the street today and it made me laugh:

[demonofthelight]

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.