#but that does not in any way make it ‘insincere’ or whatever like if somebody is making it or even rbing it it obviously meant something to

[francisforever2014]

can y’all just say that you don’t like something and are annoyed with an oversaturation of it without making annoying condescending generalizations 😭 how could you possibly know that someone isn’t “being sincere” . what is with this devaluation of art just bc it doesn’t click with you personally . what do microaesthetics even have to do with you being annoyed that people are too into dog poetry or whatever

[itcameuponamidnightqueer]

fake dating 10, any pairing you want

damie + “please just hold my hand, that person’s basically undressing me with their eyes.”

trope prompts

//

It’s not that Jamie doesn’t want to be at this school function, it’s just that—

No, that’s a lie. She definitely doesn’t want to be here, and wouldn’t if she weren’t part of the staff. Wouldn’t be here if Dani hadn’t tricked her, really, because Jamie’s usually pretty good about saying no even at work. 

“Rebecca’s back from traveling,” Dani had tried, and Jamie said no because who knows how long that’ll last. 

“Owen said he’s gonna ask Hannah out,” she’d tried next, and Jamie had actually laughed in her face. 

“Someone is actually going to have to physically force those two together,” she’d replied, and Dani’s eyes lit up, prompting her with a quirk of an eyebrow.

In no world does Jamie want to be that person.

Dani had sighed. “Free booze,” she’d grumbled, desperate. Jamie had rolled her eyes and opened the door to her well-stocked liquor cabinet.

Dani had pursed her lips together and turned her face away, almost quick enough for Jamie to miss the grin she was failing to suppress. 

If Jamie weren’t constantly on the lookout for that smile, she might have succeeded.

Dani had sighed again, raked a hand through her fluffy, perfect hair, and flopped back on the couch.

“Okay, fine,” she huffed. “You win, don’t come, we’ll hang out over the weekend and I’ll just tell you all about how lonely I was at the party—my first party without Eddie, which everyone will probably be asking me about and I’ll have to field awkward questions all night—”

Jamie scoffed. “And you think I’m going to magically make them not be awkward?”

“No,” Dani answered, a little too quickly. “I think you’d glare at them so hard they wouldn’t even ask me in the first place.”

“I think I’ve just been insulted!”

“No,” Dani laughed, “you just have that whole—” She scrunched her eyebrows together and set her shoulders, curled her lip upwards into an unmistakable hint of a sneer. Her voice, when she spoke, was half an octave lower and at least six countries away from Jamie’s accent. “—’Don’t fuck wiv’ me’ vibe going on,” she finished.

Jamie had taken a few long moments to blink away the urge to kiss her. 

“You’ve gotten worse,” she’d finally said. “Almost a year and a half working together and you’ve gotten worse.”

“Come to the party and you can spend the whole time teaching me.”

“Dani.”

“Jamie.”

Her eyes weren’t wide anymore; they’d shrunk back to being shy and vulnerable, the stormy kind of blue that Jamie didn’t ever see unless they were alone. Jamie had spent the better part of a year not acknowledging her feelings for Dani, and she was good at it. Not always good enough to escape Hannah’s shrewd gaze, but enough to where it was a genuine friendship, and she only felt the roar of devotion flare up in the quietest, most private of moments.

Jamie was excellent at controlling her emotions. She’d spent an entire lifetime honing that skill, protecting herself from the surprisingly large amount of people who seemed destined to hurt her. 

Jamie had nothing on Dani Clayton.

Dani could suppress any negative feeling until it almost ceased to exist; she had an incredible way of just...willing things not to happen. It had taken months for her to reveal the cracks in her relationship with Eddie, and even then Jamie sat by and watched, completely blown away, by how quickly and how sincerely Dani put the mask back up around people who only wanted to see silk and porcelain. The crazy thing about it was that Dani meant it; Dani gave all of her attention to everyone who asked for it. She didn’t have an insincere bone in her body.

But, god—Jamie’s life had been shit before, and still nothing made her sadder than watching Dani perform.

If all it took for her not to do that was one party, well, she could table the rest of it for later.

She’d picked up her phone and opened up the group chat they had with Hannah, Owen, and Rebecca.

“Right,” she’d groaned, “guess we’ve gotta coordinate who’s driving because the only way I’m getting through this is if I’m very, very drunk.”

.

And so Jamie finds herself at the not-yet-Christmas, ambiguously-winter end-of-semester party, sticking to Rebecca like a leech while she regales groups of coworkers with the same six stories of her very impulsive, wildly successful trip around the world. Dani, meanwhile, hasn’t been answering any awkward questions, from what Jamie’s heard, and is instead relaxed and popular as she chats with all of their friends.

Jamie almost turned around ten minutes in, once it became clear what the tone of the night would be. But there was no sense in bailing when she was already there and hadn’t driven herself, and—

Who would be there for Dani to look at, every twenty minutes or so, just for reassurance or to check in or whatever kind of comfort she might be seeking. (Jamie doesn’t know for sure what it is. She knows what she hopes it is. But that’s something else for the ‘later’ bag.)

She stays. Jamie stays and drinks and laughs and eventually gets sucked into the party of it all, which is why she’s five minutes into her best story of youthful shenanigans that didn’t end in a visit from the cops, and absolutely doesn’t notice the anxious blonde rushing at her from across the room. 

 “Hold my hand, hold my hand, hold my hand,” Dani urges, arm outstretched as she speeds closer. She hits Jamie’s elbow when she gets close enough and finally manages to wrestle Jamie’s hand into an iron grip.

Jamie, sufficiently interrupted, stops talking and looks down. “What’s going on here, then?”

Dani takes a deep breath and plasters on the worst attempt at a smile Jamie’s ever seen, which is still pretty good by most peoples’ standards. “Remember all those awkward questions I thought I’d get about Eddie?” she says through clenched teeth.

“Yep.”

“Thought they’d be full of pity, not flirting.”

Jamie’s head shoots up, trying to pick out the offenders, but Dani slaps her elbow again.

“Don’t look!” she hisses. “We have to make this convincing.”

“Make what convincing?” Jamie narrows her eyes and takes a long sip of her drink. “You’re pulling me into some kind of scheme, Poppins, and I know I’ve told you what happened the last time somebody did that…”

Dani laughs, high and fluttery and nervous in the back of her throat. “Please just hold my hand,” she implores. “Nathan is basically undressing me with his eyes but I think you can scare him off if he sees us together.”

“Nathan?” Jamie starts to scan the room again, a little less obviously this time. “Nathan Ford, the school’s sluttiest social studies teacher?”

“Mhm.”

“The same Nathan Ford who’s walking over right now?”

“What!” Dani straightens up, rigid and spooked like a deer in the road. “I can’t believe—I was so careful; is he stalking me?”

The anxiety is short-lived and replaced very quickly with anger once Jamie can no longer hold in her laughter. 

“You,” Dani says, prying Jamie’s drink from her other hand, “tricked me.”

“You tricked me first,” Jamie winks.

“I don’t even think he’s in here anymore.”

Jamie shrugs. “Probably not.”

“You made me think I was in so much trouble…”

“You’re always safe with me, Poppins.”

Dani finishes the drink.

.

The funny thing is, neither of them lets go. 

Nathan Ford isn’t the only slutty teacher and it doesn’t take Jamie long to get a glimpse of what Dani’s been dealing with, the men—single and married—who look at her just a little too long, a little too presumptuously. Dani, of course, handles it with grace and charm, and Jamie thinks that maybe she didn’t need her grumpy buffer after all.

She holds tight anyway, just in case.

It’s a dangerous thing to do, parade a fake relationship in front of all of their coworkers, but it doesn’t feel wrong or forced. They’re going on a break soon, Jamie rationalizes. School is going on a two-week break and everyone is drunk and no one is going to remember the scandal of the fourth grade teacher clinging all night to the newest member of the art department. If they do...well, everything can be laughed off or pushed down or forgotten eventually.

So they cling and they talk and Jamie expertly lets every too-interested man know, with absolute certainty, that their efforts should be directed elsewhere. She tickles her fingers against Dani’s, throws in a few isn’t that right, love’s every once in a while, rubs a hand on her back when the moment feels right. And Dani—

Dani invades her space—presses their shoulders together, scratches at the inside of Jamie’s wrist, wipes a stray bit of liquor from the side of her mouth after an untidy sip. Jamie feels all of this and lets it wash over her, lets it sink under her skin and warm her body until she feels like she could start a fire with her hands.

The night winds down and people filter out and eventually there isn’t anyone left to fool. But Dani’s hand is still in hers and Jamie is more than happy to be slow and soft with her. She stays, for the tenth and fifteenth and hundredth time.

It’s just the five of them left, eventually, and they migrate to the bar when the party room in the back seems too large for such a small group. They situate themselves on stools in the corner, and the conversation flows without a hitch. It always has with this group—Owen, Hannah, and Rebecca first, then Dani, then Jamie. She’d tell them all how much it really means to know them if anyone got enough drink in her.

Until then, she’ll scoff at group texts and drag her feet to parties and settle into the fact that they all know it’s for show anyway.

She props her head on her hand and listens, quickly approaching the sleepy part of drinking. She tries not to watch Dani too much while they all talk but it’s difficult—Dani is noticeable at a distance and absolutely striking up close. The curl of her lips as she smiles, the way they overtake her entire face if she means it enough (and she usually does); the laughter that pours out of her and directly into the hearts of anyone lucky enough to be listening; the way her ears look bigger when she hooks her hair behind them, how she only does that when she’s in very comfortable company.

After about thirty minutes, Jamie gets up to retrieve their coats before she does something stupid, like playfully tug at Dani’s earlobe or reach in to straighten the collar on her shirt.

She returns shortly, holding her leather jacket and Dani’s very puffy winter coat, and sits down without a word, content to wait for a natural break in the conversation. She folds the coats over her lap and fiddles with a coaster on the counter.

Dani absently reaches back to still her fingers after about a minute. A simple gesture—resting her hand atop Jamie’s, perhaps swiping her thumb across the back of her hand. Nothing like the displays they’d been putting on earlier. So unlike them, in fact, that Jamie doesn’t notice it at all.

Owen, Hannah, and Rebecca can’t take their eyes off it.

“So, what, were you waiting to tell me until I got back?”

Jamie nurses the dregs of her beer. “Tell you what?”

“This, what is this!” Rebecca exclaims, fluttering her fingers in the direction of Jamie and Dani’s still-clasped hands. “I go gallivanting around the world for an entire year and neither of you mention that you’ve shacked up?”

Jamie and Dani look at their hands, look at each other, and start speaking at the same time.

“We’re not dating, it was just a stupid thing for tonight—”

“Jamie’s doing me a favor since Eddie’s gone and men are creepy—”

“Right, sure.” Rebecca squints and fixes both of them with a sly glance. “It’s just for tonight, to ward off creepy men, which is why you’re still doing it since there are so many of them around now.”

“Must have just gotten used to it,” Dani offers weakly.

“Of course, which is why you still haven’t let go.”

Jamie lets go and tries not to telegraph how much she misses the weight of Dani’s hand.

“You’re definitely not dating,” Rebecca continues, “which is why Jamie got up and got her coat and Dani’s, and left the rest of us hanging.”

Dani looks down and finally notices the coat in Jamie’s lap. “You got my coat?” she asks, furrowing her brow.

“Yeah,” Jamie shrugs. “Seemed like you were ready to go.”

“Yeah, but I was—I was still talking.”

Jamie waves a hand. “You were telling the piano lesson story; you always tell that when you want the night to wind down.”

“No, I—” Dani frowns and retrieves her purse from where it’s hooked around the stool; she rummages through it frantically, her movements loose and messy. “How did you get my coat check ticket?”

“Took that from ya ages ago, Poppins,” Jamie answers. “You were so nervous you were gonna rub the number right off it, and then we’d both be shit outta luck.”

Jamie watches as the expression on Dani’s face morphs, unfurls from stern, puzzled ridges and relaxes into fondness, into twinkling eyes and soft cheeks, a mischievous affection that floors Jamie every time she sees it. Every time, she wonders how many people have been lucky enough to have been on the receiving end of this look, and hopes that the answer is ‘very few’.

“We should, um, probably go,” Dani whispers.

Jamie smiles. “We all drove here together,” she reminds Dani, just as quietly.

Dani slumps back. She reaches for her coat but instead of grabbing it, simply rests her hand on top, like she’s waiting.

Jamie breathes deeply and avoids looking at Rebecca.

“Owen, mate,” she says, daring him to tease her, “maybe you could drop off Dani and me first.”

[mellometal]

Hey, everyone.

I've tried to compose myself before making this post. This is a subject that I've touched on a little bit in posts, but I've never done a deep dive into JUST this topic. I was going to make a post solely about this subject sooner, but this one in particular is really hard for me to talk about without getting emotional...and yet Dhar Mann has talked about this on quite a few occasions in the most insincere, toxic ways. I'll do my best to discuss this topic without getting too emotional.

It's about a serious subject that people still are ignorant about and don't take seriously. Even to this day, with the body positivity and body neutrality movements. (I don't know of a better way to describe just being neutral about your body. Sorry if it sounds weird.)

For anyone who doesn't know what I'm referring to (honestly, I don't blame you, as this is a subject that's often seen as normal and is encouraged in society for the most part), I'm talking about fatphobia. Hating on people for being fat. Discriminating people because of their weight in the workplace, at the doctor's office, just in general. Not many stores having inclusive sizes. People being treated like they're subhuman because they're fat.

I want to say this first, before I bash on Dhar Mann again: I'm a plus-size young woman. This is something that I have personal experience with. Your weight has no significance to your worth as a person. If you do happen to be overweight, obese, whatever, you're not subhuman. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. You're worthy of being loved, listened to, treated with kindness, and respected, just like anyone else who isn't fat.

If you treat people like utter shit for their weight, get some help. Why do you care about somebody else's weight? Obviously there's an exception to this, like if they're so big they can't move or they're so skinny their organs are showing....because those are causes for concern, but other than that, mind your own business. Even if they are in those extremities, unless you're their doctor and/or their family, STILL mind your own business. How the fuck does a fat person simply breathing and existing affect you in any way? News flash: there will always be fat people.

Before I get to the weekly ritual of tearing TWO of Dhar Mann's videos apart (the next one will be in another post or I'll reblog this post and continue on there), here's an obligatory trigger warning for the video analysis itself and my response: The following post contains fatphobia, fat shaming, a man being super fucking misogynistic and treating women like they're objects, and there's even a touch of some racial aggression. How shocking. Because Dhar Mann really seems to get a kick out of writing about racism to make it all cute. Oh yeah, you're totally solving racism, Dhar Mann. /s

My response contains my experience with fatphobia, relationships with food, mentioned/implied thoughts of s3lf h@rm, feeling like I'm unworthy of being treated like an actual person because of my weight, and absolute rage. Like usual. My responses are very heated. This one especially. It's LONG. Buckle up.

With all this out of the way, let's get to the first video that I want to tear apart. This one is about the auditions for a record deal. I will get to the video about a kid wanting to be a host of a radio show later.

To sum up the first video, a plus-size white woman (Krissy Elliot) is singing for an agent (Isaac) and his assistant (Evette) so she can follow her dream to become a singer. Isaac cuts Krissy off to viciously bash her for being a plus-size woman. Evette stands up for this woman, and says she sounded fine and to let her finish. Isaac doesn't listen to Evette, let alone take what she said into consideration. He continues to ridicule Krissy for her appearance, that she'll "never make it in the music industry" (WRONG, do you know how many plus-size people are in the fucking music industry? There are A LOT more now than when I was growing up and it honestly makes me so happy. There were more plus-size people in the entertainment industry than in the music industry back then.), suggested that she "become a chef or a food critic" because she apparently loves being around food (being a chef or a food critic are noble professions, but NEVER fucking assume ANYONE'S relationships with food), to the point where Krissy left the room in tears.

Here are a few screenshots for context:

When this skinny, conventionally attractive woman (Jesse) comes in, Isaac's mood does a COMPLETE 180° and he's all sunshine and rainbows. Then right as soon as Jesse did her audition, Isaac is over the fucking moon, complimenting her physical appearance, treating her like an object, and signs her up for a record deal RIGHT AWAY. Pay attention to Isaac's facial expressions in one of these screenshots.

Evette suggests that they sign Krissy for a record deal instead. Because she was "the best singer they've had all day". Isaac, still all hot and bothered by a skinny, conventionally attractive woman that he's treating like an object, tells Evette that people like Krissy don't make it in the music industry because they're "overweight and unattractive", and is verbally aggressive towards her when she does nothing but explain her stance. Isaac sees this as Evette "talking back" (remember how I mentioned that there's racial aggression? He says that Evette is "talking back" because she happens to be a black woman) and fires her. He signs Jesse a record deal and has a blast with her.

The award ceremony comes around, and they're picking a winner for Best New Artist. They pick the winner, and it's....guess what? You'll never get it! It's Krissy Elliot! Why? Because Evette became her agent after Isaac fired her. Krissy goes into her whole story about how she was laughed out of every single agency and that she worked hard. Good for her. Jesse is obviously very happy for Krissy. We gotta love women supporting women.

This video was again another dumpster fire. As usual. Like I said, with this video in particular, I couldn't get through the first thirty seconds the first time around. Because I've dealt with shit like this. Obviously not with the music industry because I don't even think I'd be good enough to step into an agency...but I mean in my personal life.

Being told by my own dad that he was "tired of buying bigger clothes for me" when I was a young teenager, despite him buying almost nothing but "junk food".

Having my abuser make comments about my weight and talking about diets while I'm trying to eat my food, despite her being overweight.

Having someone I know (not anyone I'm friends with) make a comment about me eating a few things (ONE small piece of broccoli, two baby carrots, a small handful of chips, and ONE small piece of pineapple) and said to "save some for everyone else", even though I was saving food for everyone else, which is why I took so little. She tried to justify it with the fact nobody was there yet (why do you think I took very little food?), and she "was saying that to everyone" (why did she look at ME when she said that instead of making it clear that she was talking to everyone [saying "Hey, everyone" before the comment about saving some for everyone else IS NOT HARD]?), even though I know it was just to save her own ass. I knew she said that to me because I'm plus-size. She didn't say anything to anyone else, nor did she make it clear that she was talking to everyone.

Another person I know (not a person I'm friends with) saying that I overreacted (I did not overreact; SOMEONE TRIGGERED ME and you did NOTHING about it) even though they all KNEW my relationship with food is complicated. They KNEW that I don't really like eating in front of other people. I was upset that someone MADE A FUCKING DISGUSTING, TRIGGERING COMMENT ABOUT ME EATING VERY FEW FOOD ITEMS, ALMOST ALL WERE HEALTHY, DESPITE OTHER PEOPLE EATING A LOT MORE THAN I DID AND PICKING AT EVERYTHING. That day, I was begging one of my friends (one of the people I trust to eat around) to PLEASE take me home because I didn't want to be there (never wanted to be there in the first place), I was tired (I worked all night the night before and was forced to go to a meeting before all this happened), I didn't feel comfortable there anymore, there were way too many people (four individuals plus all their staff from another house were in the house I work in), I couldn't breathe (I was either about to pass out, have a panic attack, or just start crying), but nobody listened to me. I ended up getting a bus to go home.

(Sorry about all that. I was trying not to get emotional in this post. I just needed to share how this can affect people.)

Onto my response, which is all in the screenshots below.

ETA: I know the screenshots for my response are very jumbled right now and it’s difficult to read. I apologize to anyone who’s unable to fully read it! Because this is part one of this whole subject of fatphobia (I’m making a post about the boy wanting to become a radio host very soon), my response here will tie into that post. My response to that video is vastly the same, despite not making a comment on that video as of right now (the radio host one). 

I’ll be typing out my full response here. I apologize for weird formatting. Instagram wouldn’t let me break up my response into paragraphs. I’ll break them up into paragraphs here instead.

CC (Combination of the first, second, and third screenshots, aka, the first part of my response):

 I have a few questions before I get into my thoughts on this video. One, how the hell does your weight have any significance on your worth as a person, and if you do think this way, why would you think that? Two, do you know that fatphobia is a lot more than just judging a person for being fat? Three, why do you feel like you can speak for fat people like myself with this piss poor excuse for a video that I could barely get through the first thirty seconds of the first time? 

You can’t speak for any of us. I can’t speak for every fat person because not everyone has the same experiences as me. 

I’ve been bullied for my weight in real life as well as online. People have called me ugly just because of my weight. By the way, your weight doesn’t equal beauty, and that’s what I’m still learning. Beauty comes in all shapes and sizes. 

On quite a few occasions, I have actually thought about doing dangerous things to my body that I don’t feel comfortable going into here. All because I had people try to boil me down to my weight, call me ugly, and destroy whatever self-esteem I had left. You don’t know what fat people go through, so don’t act like you do. 

There are many factors that go into why a person may be fat, including medical conditions, mental illness, trauma, genetics, etc. All of those things are none of your business unless those people decide to be open about it. 

No, it’s not always healthy to be fat (obviously there are extremities on both sides of the spectrum of weight that are extremely unhealthy), but it doesn’t make a person any less of a human being. Fat people are human too. Quit treating us like we’re not. We deserve to be treated like everyone else who isn’t fat. I’m not saying put all fat people on a pedestal. I’m saying treat us like human beings.

CC (Combination of the fourth, fifth, sixth, and seventh screenshots, aka, the second part of my response):

Remember how I said that fatphobia isn’t just about judging people for being fat? Well, there’s the “fat tax” on plus-size clothing (even though it maybe only costs a little bit more in fabric, if there’s any difference in making clothes for people who aren’t fat), limited styles for fat people in stores (making a lot of us have to buy fast fashion or have to spend a fortune on clothes that actually flatter us), not very many stores have inclusive sizes still (if you don’t at least carry max 5XL or a size 38/40 in pants size, you cannot call yourself inclusive), and a lot of other things.

Many fat people, myself included, are afraid to seek medical attention for anything (even checkups) because of doctors who only focus on our weight and not on what we came in to see them for. They write it off as if our weight is the sole cause of our problems, which isn’t always the case.

How about we talk about how expensive it is to eat healthy in a lot of places? Not everyone can afford to make fresh meals every day, let alone once a week. Maybe they were never taught how to due to their upbringing. You don’t know.

I’ve had people comment on my weight, what I’m eating (even if I’m eating something healthy like fruits and veggies), talk about my weight or diets EVEN WHILE I’M TRYING TO EAT, and it’s caused me to wait until I’m alone or around someone I trust to eat anything. As a result, I have a complicated relationship with food now.

Telling someone they’re fat doesn’t help them. They know that. They see themselves every day. People may want to change, but they either are afraid to ask for help, or they don’t know where to start. Some may not want to change. It’s up to them, honestly. If you want to help them lose weight, maybe suggest any physical activity they’d have fun doing and do them with them? I dance for fun. Also, you could help set up meal plans with them. 

If you’re not going to at least try to help them lose weight if you’re so concerned about them (this is all if they actually want to change things and don’t know where to start), I cannot say this in a sweeter way: shut your mouth and mind your own business. Because you’re just being a cunt at that point.

CC (eighth screenshot, aka, the third and final part to my response):

There are quite a few plus-size people in the entertainment industry as a whole who are/were very successful. Remember the late Chris Farley and Aretha Franklin? Chris Farley was big, but that didn’t change how great of an actor he was, how funny he was, or how much of an impact he made in the entertainment industry. Aretha Franklin was a plus-size black woman in the music industry, but she’s inspired SO MANY artists we have today! There are many plus-size men, women, and I believe even nonbinary people in the public eye in general. Like I’ve said, beauty comes in all shapes and sizes. That’s why the body positivity and body neutrality movements are a thing.

(I know I implied that I thought about sh here in my response, but please don't worry about me as far as that goes. I'm fine now. I would never go through with anything like that.)

In the last part of my response where I mentioned some plus-size people in the entertainment industry as well as the music industry (the late Chris Farley and the late Aretha Franklin), I was going to name more people, but my comments were getting too long. I'll name some more here off the top of my head:

Lizzo (rapper), the Piggy Dolls (the first K-Pop girl group made up of actual plus-size women), K*v*n Sp*c*y (I don't feel comfortable saying his name because he's a disgusting person, but he's another plus-size man...he was in King of Queens and in A LOT of movies), PSY, Greyson Gritt (a genderqueer person in the music industry), Elle King, Produce Pandas (the first music group in China full of plus-size men), Martha Wash, Chubby Checker, Fats Domino, Big Angel (a J-Pop group of all plus-size women), Chubbiness (another J-Pop group of all plus-size women), Pottya (another J-Pop group of all plus-size women)...there are so many that I found, but if you want to add more plus-size artists, plus-size actors, plus-size comedians/comediennes, feel free to add them in the comments!

Dhar Mann, you'll never know what plus-size people go through. You don't know what we go through. You have NO IDEA what we go through on a daily basis. Stop acting like you do. Because you don't, and you never will.

By the way, Dhar Mann, this will NOT be the last post I'll make about you or your videos. The more you make fucking deplorable, poorly written bullshit, the more posts I'll make! Teehee!

If you got this far, thank you so much. The next part of this is coming very soon. I'm sorry for not posting too many screenshots from the video. I wanted to fit in my response because it's important for people to see.

Have a good day/afternoon/night, y'all. Love you!

[delusion-of-negation]

top 10 (ish) ridiculous or annoying FAQs:

(click at your own discretion)

1) "kids today rely on others to do everything"

ah yes, damn those participation trophies! if it wasn't for them my hands wouldn't be fucked, and I wouldn't need people to write for me. but seriously, stop reading boomer comics, and go outside to meet some actual young people.

2) "sus that a non-american says mom"

yeah, because it's clearly the superior version, and I'm not too patriotic to concede a defeat.

3) "sweaty, the victims of abuse by catholics are real people, stop appropriating their pain just because you want to hate catholics; plus teachers abuse people just as often anyway"

so firstly, I don't hate anybody. and secondly, regarding the fact that victims really do exist, [insert "of course I know him, he's me" meme here]; although I don't often talk much about the abuse I went through or what my religious beliefs are. but, more importantly, statements like "survivors are people" can be phrased like "some people are survivors", and when you're unable to act according to the latter (like when you don't even consider that somebody might be one) then you display a failure to recognise the former - you're projecting; a survivor can't be appropriating their own pain, but you can be appropriating it to silence one. and thirdly, teachers do abuse - the problem isn't and has never been purely religion, rather that abuse is often done by somebody in a position of trust, power, and familiarity; and that the lack of a global minimum enables totally legal abuse on top of the illegal stuff. people with access and respect have more opportunity to abuse than those without, and that goes for teachers too. but, once again, you can be appropriating the pain of survivors to deflect and silence people. please remember this before you say that shit.

4) "get help/therapy"

way ahead of you - years ahead of you. but it's not magic - people who say this often act as if you'll start behaving differently overnight. not only are some things simply beyond the ability of talking therapy to completely rectify, it also takes time and has to be selective. you've got to pick your priorities, and that's definitely not whatever ship or joke you're mad at me about today. therapy is a slow, arduous process that can't guarantee results - it isn't "anti-recovery" to recognise that, it's honesty. while I've been in therapy for a long time, it is not necessarily going to change whatever you don't like about me - whether that's because it can't, because my focus now is on more important or urgent things, or because I don't want to change that.

5a) "tell your family you ship incest, see how that goes; normal people find it disgusting"

actually, some know, and they're fine with it. in fact, one prefers sibling pairings in fiction to all other dynamics because, to paraphrase, "it's a deeper level of messed up co-dependence". so unfortunately for you, my remaining family (by which I mean those not dead or cut out of my life after abuse and so forth) actually are able to distinguish between fiction and reality. plus, my reasoning for caring if they find it gross or not pertains only to recommending books and such - their opinions do not dictate my tastes.

5b) "don't sexualise/appropriate incestuous abuse" and "I bet you enjoyed being raped" and other attempts to upset me over 5a

firstly, as I've already said here, survivors can't be appropriating ourselves. in addition, you're not owed people's history or trauma - it's not okay to require people's personal information, or else you'll send anon hate and accusations of appropriation. secondly, I'm not sexualising our abuse (not just because I write horror, and so a lot of my writing is intended to be creepy, not sexy); these stories aren't about us, they're not us at all. entire dynamics/people (fictional or otherwise) aren't all going to be applicable to us or identical to us, just because they have something in common with us; they're not us and they're not accountable to us. thirdly, the fact that people send this stuff (attempting to trigger people's trauma over ships) is so much more worrying to me than somebody making our communal imaginary friends kiss. you're trying to hurt people. and finally, to the "I bet you enjoyed it" crowd (if you're at all serious): do you think you'd enjoy being in a real zombie apocalypse, alone, afraid, and really at risk of being eaten alive? a fictional scenario does not feel remotely the same as a real one. this isn't rocket science - things that look like you aren't you; fiction isn't reality; don't send anon hate. (edit: comparable "just leave me alone, I'm not hurting anyone" sentiments for yandere stuff, and anything else you decide I'm naughty for.)

6) "you'll be sent off to do manual labour once your communist revolution happens"

while I don't know why people think that I'm a communist, a dictatorial regime probably isn't going to want me to do manual labour. they're more likely to just shoot me; I'm useless and a liability. call me crazy, but something tells me that "ah yes, we shall give ze deranged cripple ze power tools" isn't the communist position.

7a) "they/them can't be singular pronouns"

yes they can, and they're used as such in both shakespeare and the bible. but you don't have to say this - I'm also okay with he/him, so you could've just used those and chilled out. also, do I look like somebody who views the rules of grammar as fully immutable and imperative?

7b) "enbies/aros/pan/etc aren't valid"

do you really think that you're going to change any hearts or minds by putting that in my ask box or under my funny maymays? chill out, it's not worth the effort - you could be planning a party (in minecraft) and having fun instead. it isn't worth my time to rant at everybody who's saying something isn't valid, updating how I'm explaining it as my opinions grow and general discourse around it evolves; I'm just who I am, somebody else is who they are - why bicker in presumptuous ways about if that's enough? it ultimately is valid, in my opinion, but that isn't an invitation to keep demanding that I debate. (edit: old posts of mine probably don't phrase things incredibly, on this or anything... I tried.)

8) "what are your politics?"

my politics are informed first and foremost by the knowledge that I'm not cut out to be some kind of leader - I don't want to be the guy who tells everyone else what to do, I just offer what seem to me like valid criticisms of how we are doing things now, and general pointers on the values and ethics that I would prefer to move towards. things like individual freedom, taking the most pacifist route where possible, trying not to give excessive power to small groups of people (governments or corporations), helping those in need even when they're not palatable, and letting me suck loads of dicks. but please refrain from decreeing me something - there's not enough information in what I said, so you'll just be filling in the blanks with assumptions. (edit: workplace democracy seems cool to me; benefits are good; fair fines and taxes; and the "sperm makes you loopy" saga: 1, 2, 3, and 4.)

9) "you're a narcissist"

no, I don't meet the diagnostic criteria. joking on the internet that you're hot doesn't make a person a narcissist. the fact that I've chosen to keep my actual self-esteem issues to myself is not proof that they don't exist - you're just not entitled to that information about me. but it's also not narcissism to really like how you look. (edit: don't throw labels around carelessly too.)

10a) "kin list?"

the fabric of the universe, a zombie, dionysus, maned wolf/arctic fox hybrid, a comedian, big gay, big rock, ambiguously partial insincerity. (edit: kin list may or may not be incomplete.)

10b) "kin isn't valid/that's just being insane"

haven't we established that I'm deranged, and that sending stuff like this on anon is simply a waste of your precious time? besides, I do not care if it's invalid or insane - it's fun, I'm happy. (edit: see 7b for my opinion on sending me yet another ask with "that's invalid" in it; I'm not in the mood to discuss the nature of validity.)

bonus: "it gets better" and "trigger list?"

as I've said before, things just don't always get better for everyone - sometimes things can't be cured or even treated, sometimes they kill you; in some cases it could get better if not for a blockade or lack of time. the world is messy. it needs to be more normalised to reassure or comfort people without relying on saying that their issue will get better or be cured. it does suck to be this ill, but it also sucks to be made out to be a lazy pessimist, just because I have the audacity to not play along. and as for the trigger list, I don't like providing people with an easily accessed list of ways to hurt my feelings or harm me - upsetting me is supposed to be challenging, and thus rewarding. if you want a cheat sheet then you're out of luck, I'm afraid.

bonus #2: "FAQ stands for frequently asked questions, it doesn't need that s at the end!"

yeah, I know, I just enjoy chaos and disarray.

bonus #3 (edit): "what are your disabilities and how exactly are they incurable and/or deadly?"

again, I don't tell the internet everything about me, especially when it poses a risk, especially not as an easily accessible list for you to refer back to whenever you feel inclined to hurt my feelings. that is understandably a sore subject. (edit: that includes physical health issues btw.)

bonus #4 (edit): "so we shouldn't be critical?"

if it wasn't clear from my answer about politics or my post in general, you can have opinions about things, and you can voice that. it's just not realistic to exist at extremes: to think that you alone should dictate what exists in fiction, or to think that people shouldn't be expressing disdain or criticism of any calibur. say how you feel about things, that's fine, but it's also fine if people find that they don't value your input. plus we're all flawed, we can all be hypocritical from time to time, we all get bitchy, and we all make mistakes, or even knowingly fuck things up. that's important to keep in mind, whether we're talking about the one being criticised or the one doing the criticising - poor choices of words, imperfect tone, or contradictory ideas are inevitably going to happen occasionally.

congrats on reaching the end! if you have, at any point, said one of these to me, you owe a hug to your nearest loved one (once it's safe).

edit: might add more links/bonus points in the future when I think of things, but it's late now. (sorry for links where prior notes in the thread have my old url, that may get a tad confusing; also, not all links are my blog or my op, since it is to illustrate points/vibes, not to self-promo.)

[angst-fairygodmother]

Idiot (Affectionate) ~ A Bad Samaritan Fic

CHAPTER ONE: FIRST DAY

When your cousin Sean and his friend start up a valet business at Nino’s, where you work as a waitress, you don’t expect it to lead to any of what happens next.

Pairing: Derek Sandoval x Reader Word Count: 1893 Rating: T - mild language, reference to harassment

Masterlist

“So, how does it feel, your first big boy job?” you teased, elbowing your cousin in the ribs. 

“Oh haha,” Sean drawled, swatting at you. “You’re hilarious.”

“And adorable.” You dodged out his reach, and the two of you proceeded to chase each other around the podium for several minutes.

“I’m serious though, Sean. Suggesting Nino start doing valet parking, organizing the whole thing. I think it’s great. Better than car washes and dog walking. It shows initiative, and it’ll get Don off your back a bit.”

“How’d you know that was one of the goals?”

“Because I know you. Really, my only disappointment is that you brought him along.” You gestured over your shoulder to Derek who was just walking up. 

“Hey, come on now!” he cried.

“Derek’s my best mate, you know that Y/N,” Sean sighed. “And I think you two would get along if you gave him a chance.”

“Yeah, but he’s so...him,” you sighed, making a face of mock disgust. 

“Yo, hold up, what’s that supposed to mean?” 

“Are you sure you want me to answer that question?” You cocked an eyebrow at him, whether he took it as a warning or challenge was up to him.

“Yeah. If you got a problem with me, I wanna know what it is.” 

“I don’t have a problem with you, per se. It’s just that...you’re arrogant, and loud. Not even your voice, just, the way you are. You act like you’re hot shit, but you’re not half as clever as you think.”

He scoffed in disbelief and even though you knew you should leave it there, something made you want to keep pushing, almost to see what happened if you got him riled enough. 

“If you were, you wouldn’t be working nothing but a string of dead-end jobs.” You shrugged. “Frankly, I think both of you are wasting considerable talent being valets instead of looking at the bigger picture.”

“Wait, hang on!” Sean protested. “A minute ago you were praising my initiative.”

“Better to start your own idea than working someone else’s, sure, but I was mostly trying to be nice.” You flashed an apologetic grimace, nose wrinkling. “You’re my favorite cousin and I love you?” you continued in a rush, hoping to cover up your admission of insincerity with charm.

Sean rolled his eyes fondly at you.

“Well if you’re so smart, how come you ain’t doin any better? You’re just like us, Miss Waitress,” Derek said mockingly.

“Except I’m doing this because textbooks cost like four hundred bucks a piece and I don’t have an extra kidney to sell. Unless you’re going to give me yours?” You gave him another challenging look before sighing. “As soon as I have that degree in my hand, I am outta here.”

“Some of us got families to take care of, can’t just run away when we get bored.”

“I…” you took a deep breath, deflating. “I didn’t mean it like that. All I was trying to say is I know Sean’s got talent and someone else is bound to notice eventually, and there’s probably a brain in that head of yours somewhere. I find it hard to believe that you want to do this for life. Family first sure, I get it, but don’t you want...don’t you deserve more?”

Derek and Sean both frowned, unsure of how to answer you. Of course neither of them wanted to be valets or car washers or grocery baggers forever. But they had bills to pay, food and rent and electricity to afford. If they didn’t keep up with here and now, all the bigger picture thinking and dreaming of the future in the world wasn’t going to help. 

Something inside the restaurant caught your eye and you shook your head.

“I should probably get in there. Nino’s got Val doing place settings, and we probably don’t want to be auctioning off butter knives.” You shoved your hands in the pockets of your black slacks and flashed them both a smile. “Good luck tonight.”

Derek made no secret of staring at your ass as you walked away, a fact that Sean definitely noticed. 

“Come on, seriously?” he asked his friend, making a gesture of both annoyance and defeat.

“What dawg? Your cousin’s kind of a bitch sometimes, but she’s hot as hell. I’m just appreciating.”

~

“Nino,” one of the chefs asked a few days later. “How come you don’t feed those two boys parking cars? You feed everyone else. They must be starved out there all night.”

Nino looked thoughtful, as if it hadn’t occurred to him before. You frowned, loading your tray with table seven’s appetizers. 

“Well, they don’t really work for Nino like the rest of us, do they? They’re independent contractors,” you pointed out.

“Cold, Y/N,” the busboy, John, teased. “Throwing your cousin under the bus.”

You shrugged, weaving your way out of the kitchen. “If he wants food he should learn to put it in his contract.”

About an hour later, Nino was flagging you over, for the third time that night.

“Y/N, Y/N,” he said, rushed. “No one is eating the lasagna.”

“I can try to push more of it, talk it up or something?” you offered, not sure why he was telling you.

“No, no. It’s fine. I just don’t want to see it go to waste.” He smiled like an idea was suddenly dawning on him. “Why don’t you take some to the boys out front. David is right, they must be hungry.”

You rolled your eyes with a laugh. You should have suspected as soon as it was brought up that Nino would cave. Nodding, you went back to the kitchen to relay the order and wait.

With the two plates, rolled silverware tucked in your apron pocket, you made easy work of weaving through the restaurant and elbowing open the doors, only to grimace uncomfortably when you realized it was just Derek at their podium.

“Hey,” you said awkwardly, making him jump in surprise. “Uh...Nino thought you might be hungry and no one was eating the lasagna so he sent me out with some for you and Sean...where is Sean?”

“He’s just parking somebody, he’ll be back in a minute. Nino’s givin' us free food?” you tried to suppress a smile at the excitement in his voice. 

“No, I just brought these out to taunt you,” you joked, rolling your eyes as you handed him one of the plates and dug into your pocket for his fork. 

You were silent for a minute, shifting awkwardly, from foot to foot, still holding Sean’s plate and not sure what to do with it.

“About what I said the other night,” you said finally, chewing on your lip. 

Derek stopped, fork halfway to his mouth and looked at you.

“I may have been...unreasonably harsh…” you said hesitantly. “And I…”

The words died on your throat as you found yourself wondering if you were actually sorry. You felt guilty, but you still meant what you said. Sean and Derek were both smart people, and you thought they could do better. You had been working at Nino’s since you were nineteen, and had seen so many people insist that a job was just temporary, only to still be there almost a decade later. You didn’t want to see that happen to either of them. 

You were trying to remind yourself that it wasn’t about you, when Derek cut through your thoughts.

“Don’t sweat it, I’ve already forgotten,” he said. “It’s all good bro.”

“Oh.” He seemed so genuine in his reassurance and you weren’t sure what to do with that. Instead you changed the subject. “Where is Sean? Shouldn’t he be able to park a car quickly if he’s going to be a valet?”

“I can just hold onto his food, if you gotta get back in there.”

“Please,” you shook your head. “I’m in no rush to return to Awkward First Date, Going to Ask for a Divorce Any Second, or Family With the Twins from The Shining.” 

“How come you only got three tables when the place is packed? Don’t you handle five or six like a breeze?”

 “I got moved off two, one of them was my fault. So instead I get anyone that wants to eat at the bar. And my section has the last empty table. How’d you know how many tables I usually have?”

“Uh...I overheard some people talking when I went for a smoke break.” His eyes shifted to the side, avoiding your curious look.

“Riight.” You nodded exaggeratedly. There was no way in hell you believed that, unless they’d been gossiping about you losing tables, but he didn’t seem to know about that. 

“Anyway, why’d they get pulled?”

“The one that was my fault or the one that wasn’t?”

“Both,” he sighed, making a somewhat impatient gesture. “Sean is out parking the first car that’s showed up in an hour. Talkin’ to you’s at least something to do.”

“Glad to know I rank above staring at the sidewalk or counting the windows across the street.” You rolled your eyes.

“That’s not what I meant.” 

You leaned back, resting your elbows against the edge of the podium, bringing your faces surprisingly close together. He shoveled a bite of food into his mouth to distract himself from that fact, and the things he was thinking he could do.

“Couple of suit-and-ties celebrating some sort of business deal. One of them asked the new kid if she was on the menu, a few other lewd comments. They made her really uncomfortable, so Nino switched us around, figuring I could handle it.” You shrugged. “Same guy got a little...grabby for things that aren’t his. Nino spotted it and decided to take over the table himself. That’s one down.”

Derek frowned. He’d known plenty of people that worked in restaurants. Managers, and owners especially, didn’t typically move someone off a table for a little handsiness. But maybe Nino was one of the rare ones that went above and beyond for his staff. And if not and you didn’t want to tell him the whole thing, who was he to judge?

“The other was a complaint that I was ‘belligerent.’”

“But you’re cuddlier than a kitten, how could they ever think that?” he laughed. 

You stuck your tongue out at him childishly, laughing along. 

“All I did was correct them on my name,” you protested. “...every time they called me Sweetcheeks.”

For some reason, this only made Derek laugh harder, nearly choking on a mouthful of pasta. 

“Definitely not hostile.”

“Whatever, you dick.” You shoved him playfully and suddenly the two of you froze.

This was a shift in dynamic, a tipping point. Would he let you get away with it and tilt the scale from acquaintance to friendship? Or would he take offense? 

Sean found you in that waiting tension, shattering it with his greeting as he finally returned from parking the car. You awkwardly explained the meal delivery and sighed that you had to get back to work, someone would come get the dishes in a bit. 

Derek locked eyes with you as you turned to go. You flashed a quick smile back. 

“Did I miss something?” you heard Sean ask, lilt exaggerated by his confusion.

[canonicallysoulmates]

Last week Jensen was on Rosenbaum’s podcast, this week it’s Jared’s turn. Just like with Jensen’s I recommend checking Jared’s out it is for free on youtube, I will be linking to it at the end of this post, and I also recommend checking out his first appearance on Rosenbaum’s podcast. 

While Jensen’s appearance was recorded in the beginnings of the boys Vancouver quarantine, Jared’s was recorded a little more recently after the boys had resumed production and when they were starting on the final episode nonetheless if you are looking for information regarding Supernatural and/or the final epis you will not find them here, Jared actually didn’t talk much about the show. He did however open up about some topics including his arrest. 

Of course, they are two different people whose interviews were done at different moments in time and who got asked different questions but this had a very different feel from Jensen’s; while Jensen’s felt more interview like, this felt very much like a conversation between two friends who’ve known each other for years....the majority of the time. 

Here’s the thing, and some of y’all are not gonna like me for this....while the conversation had its deep moments and Jared opened up about some personal stuff it felt to me like a more open version of how he is in conventions. Which is not a bad thing! But it’s not like last time where he was, imo, a version of himself that only those in his circle might get to hear. There was some fuckery people, okay? There was some fuckery and we will be talking about it.

I am going to put a disclaimer here, just in case, that this post is not going to be G*nevieve friendly. Or friendly towards her and Jared’s “marriage”. 

Before we get into what Jared said and talked about, I do want to take a minute to acknowledge and say condolences to Rosenbaum and his family, one of his sisters recently passed away after being sick pretty much her whole life. 

I also wanna say real quickly that something that I really like, and I would say even respect, about Rosenbaum is how open he is about things and listening to the intro of this “episode” made me realize why it is that he gets his guests to open up so often; I think it’s because he himself is open about his struggles and his issues and he is free of judgement so if you confess to something stupid he’s not gonna judge you for it, he’s also willing to cut things out if his guests ask him too so his guests know they can talk to him and he will understand and not judge them and will respect their privacy and cut something out if they ask it of him so they can talk freely. 

Okay, after all that let’s get into what Jared said and talked about in the podcast. FYI, much like in the Jensen post, from here forth Rosenbaum will be referred to as MR for convenience. 

- The conversation starts on what I considered to be a funny note with Jared talking about his infrared sauna blanket which he travels with that is such a weird item to travel with I can’t with the white richness of it all but hey we all got our quirks 😂

- After that the conversation turns pretty serious and deep, he talked about Sadie and having to make the decision to put her to sleep. He was tearing up talking about it, and I’m not gonna lie I myself was crying - hell I’m tearing up as I’m writing this not just because I can’t handle seeing this man cry but because I know what he’s talking about, I know that pain, I know what he meant by Sadie looking at him like it was time for her to go, I know what it’s like to be in that room with a beloved pet as they’re taking their last breath...I have had to put two of my cats to sleep in the past and it’s the most difficult and heartbreaking decision one sometimes has to make as a pet owner. 😔

- Something I like about when MR and Jared talk to each other is that they have very similar personalities in some ways and they’re good friends so when they’re talking it very quickly turns into two friends talking to one another which means the conversation is all over the place. In a good way. They got into a conversation about living in the moment and how social media and cell phones can affect that; I, personally, found it fascinating. I love hearing them discuss their different POV’s about these types of topics. 

- And here’s where we get to the fake. I’m writing this post at an extremely late hour but I’m determined to get it up before I go to bed and I really wanna go to bed, so I’m gonna try to get through this as fast as possible so strap in cause there’s a lot of bullshit to quickly wade through in this section. 

Jared starts praising the fuck out of G like this man was going for it, he was really pilling it on nice and thick. So, there I am watching this with my eyes about to roll right out of my skull wondering what was up with all the fuckery cause there’s being civil and a gentleman and then there was this when a light bulb goes off above my head 💡: When this was filmed, he already knew she had been cast to play his wife on Walker, he probably figured out that by the time this aired either the news would have already been out or would be announced soon so he’s hyping her up in the only way he knows how which works anyways cause the character she’s playing is his wife and her likability is in part going to rely on people overlooking her bad acting and the nepotism to focus on her being married to Jared in real life cause people love when irl couples work together even more when they’re playing a couple. From what I’ve seen it makes people less likely to call out a lack of chemistry cause then they feel like they’re insulting the couple.

He hypes her up using the same script he and Jensen have used in the convention circuit for years when it comes to praising the wives complete with classics such as ‘i’m never home so i never knew she did so much’ and ‘i ask her what i can do and she tells me to take out the garbage’. Nothing new is added to the script, he doesn’t go into details about what makes her amazing or about “all she does” he just pretty much says over and over that she’s incredible and does so much, if he meant it and she really does “so much” why not go into detail? It’d be so easy of him to say something like ‘oh, she’s always making us healthy meals and trying out new recipes’ which can be backed up by her insta because during quarantine she did a bunch of insta stories about cooking and checking out recipe books like goddamn Jared if you’re gonna lay it thick at least put in the effort even I could hype her up better and I don’t even like her. 

It all comes off as very insincere, have y’all ever seen somebody talk about the person they love? You can tell in their voice, in their eyes, some even get a fond little smile. It’s actually quite cute to watch but there’s none of that here, even when he mentions G giving birth there’s no emotion there’s no sincerity, it’s like he’s saying all the right things but he doesn’t believe them. It reminds me off- have you ever had someone, maybe it’s a friend or a romantic partner or whatever just someone who you’re introducing to somebody else or a group of people and you really need them to like this person you’re introducing so you start to sell them meaning you just start singing their praises to an over the top extend as if you were a car dealer trying to boost up their merch? Yeah, it’s like that. 

I don’t believe for one second that she volunteered to go with him to Van so he wouldn’t be alone like Jared go to somebody else with that story 🙄

I did have to laugh at some parts cause he was laying it on thick as if I didn’t remember and know that he looked miserable in almost all the pics G posted of him from quarantine right from the beginning, and being all ‘she doesn’t have any time for herself’ well clearly she found some time cause she does her little yoga collabs, she’s had her little photo shoots, she’s done a bunch of sponsored ads, she did her clothing collab with Kohl’s, she started a book club clearly she has the fucking time to do things for herself and pursue hobbies. He also said with three kids he didn’t have time for himself which I found funny because I don’t know if y’all remember this but early on in the quarantine Jared and G did a livestream and in it he mentioned several times that he was using his time for phone calls and even way too seriously said he was handling cabin fever by hiding and letting G handle the kids so....

It’s also an interesting contrast between what Jensen said in his podcast appearance because while Jared tried to make it sound as if G had no time for herself and like that’d be impossible with three kids, Jensen pretty much said the opposite, he said that he and D would sometimes take the kids and entertain them so the other one could have some space to do their own thing, and even gave an example of settling the kids with a movie so the parents can have their own space at the same time. 

- Moving on from that fuckery, the rest of the conversation was very deep and interesting. He talked about going to therapy and once again mentions being afraid of fucking up his kids, but adds that he’s come to realize that no matter what he does he’s gonna fuck up his kids anyways cause that’s what every parent does even if they’re amazing. This is a statement that I very much agree with it doesn’t matter how amazing a parent is they’re gonna make mistakes and fuck you up. 

He talked about his anxiety and his depression and how he doesn’t like to say he suffers from it because it makes him sound like a victim he prefers to say he deals with anxiety. 

This is gonna sound so weird but I loved something Jared said about death, MR talked about his anxiety and he said that his psychologist told him anxiety is always in the backseat and a. that is so true I think pretty much anybody who suffers from anxiety can tell you that it’s always there but b. Jared mentioned that he head somebody talk about death the same way, that death is always in the passenger seat but they become a friend. I know for some this might sound concerning or macabre but personally I think this is the best way to think about death not as something to hate but as a friend who is always besides you and that doesn’t mean you’re in any rush to welcome its embrace but it does mean you don’t fear it. 

He said that now a days if he wakes up and doesn’t feel anxiety he’s like ‘what’s wrong?’ which honestly relatable af

And I am paraphrasing btw, this is the cliffnotes version of a very deep in-depth part of the conversation between him and MR starting when they’re talking about therapy the whole thing is very interesting I’m not doing it justice. 

- Towards the end of the podcast Jared opened up about his arrest. He said he has no real recollection of what happened, he doesn’t know if maybe he was drugged or just got black out drunk but he doesn’t remember the fight he just remembers up to the point of going to his friends bar. He has seen the security tapes of that night, saying he didn’t recognize himself due to the way he was acting. He thinks perhaps because he has been jumped before that maybe he acted on instinct to fight back. It is not something he is proud of and he doesn’t make excuses, he knows he fucked up. He also says he has not drank since then. 

I am very proud of him for opening up about this, and for either quitting or limiting his alcohol consumption - quite honestly I’m not sure if he has full on stopped drinking or if he is just limiting himself to only once in a blue moon cause I do know people, hell I am one of these people, I don’t drink 99% of the time but if it’s a special occasion or I’m just chilling with someone I know and they’re having a drink I might have one or a sip or two so technically I don’t drink so I don’t know if maybe that’s what he’s decided to do or if he’s quit alcohol forever, either way I’m very proud of him. I’m proud of him for opening up about this and for talking about his mental health and therapy.

With the exception of some fuckery he really did open up about some things and I highly recommend giving it a listen/watch because when it’s the real him talking it’s a very insightful conversation.

Inside of you | Jared Padalecki

[teakmiddleton]

- discord thread with @akbartheolder , @lostboyjamiebevans , and @teakmiddleton

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WHEN: February 26, 2021; mid-morning. WHERE: A stand of coconut trees near the Leander.

The fog was gross. That was all Teak could think when he saw it out of the porthole in their cabin on the Leander, the thought was reinforced when he and Jamie stepped out onto the deck of the ship, and it grew exponentially as they headed down the gangplank and onto the beach. "This isn't normal," Teak had said, as they listened to people moving around, barely visible. "This is messed up." He'd stooped, undoing the shoelaces from his sneakers (they didn't really need them; the laces were decorative, and not even really great at that), tying the strings together and then handing one end to Jamie. 

"Tie that through a belt loop," Teak instructed, doing the same on his own jeans. "We're gonna see what we can find and I don't want to lose you." A plan he congratulated himself on when they remained together long enough to join up with some people who were frenetically trying to get down some trees, for possible raft-building or something, and Teak only then turned Jamie loose with the order for him to sit in the sand and not move. He could do this. Whatever that light out on the ocean was, it could be the ticket home for the Bevans-Middleton boys, and Teak wasn't about to let that opportunity pass him by.

Jamie did as he was told when Teak offered up his shoelaces, tying them tight through a beltloop, the fog cold and cloying and more frightening than he'd ever thought fog might be - and it was comforting, doing what Teakettle said, handing over the reins of decision making to the brother that had always protected him in the past. When Teak set him free though, ordering him to sit in the sand and not move, Jamie felt himself want to balk. He didn't want to be free yet, not when people were taking down trees and Teak was determined to join them. Not when that tether had been keeping them both safe; keeping them a set, a unit. Jamie didn't want to let that go. 

But Teak was the elder brother, and what he said went, so Jamie sat in the damp sand and tried his best to see through the gloom to keep an eye on his Kettle. Helping in the way of all baby brothers before him, watching carefully and following orders. Keeping Teak in his misty sights so he could be sure that he was still there. That Jamie hadn't lost him in the thick white fog. Counting the minutes until they could be tethered again. Whatever they were going to do, they had to do it together. No ifs, ands, or buts about it. "I'll sit," Jamie said, "-but I don't like it." And then he parked himself like a statue, ready for Teak's next idea.

Emre kept losing his way back to the boat.  He maintained his calm demeanour, even if internally he was roiling with frustration and impatience.  The fog was unresponsive to water-magic, that Emre had figured out.  Not that he was any good at it himself, but because other more experienced water-magic users had failed. But he still toted supplies that could be useful for the accelerated boat-building, still hoping in vain to find his bearing and meet up with the rest of the volunteers.  Tamyra must be thrilled, knowing that she was right (maybe) and that so many people were now eager to jump on her 30-year mission. Emre wished at least that, like London fog, this fog would be enjoyable to stroll in.  But the sense of electric urgency and confusion in the air made Emre antsy as well.  Glancing around but trying to walk straight, eyes peeled for any sort of movement.

And he got it.  A flurry of people jogged past him, seemingly out of nowhere.  Emre froze - he'd found some boat-volunteers, but they were now talking about the ship getting closer (maybe) and voices on the water (maybe) and a life-raft (maybe).

"Oi," Emre said faintly to the last one running by, but they didn't hear him.  Instead, Emre kept walking, and made contact with something solid.  A person, sitting in the sand.  Emre couldn't quite make them out.  "Alright?" he asked, for lack of anything else to say.  "Know where the boat's being built, mate? Been trying to get back to it for ages."

"Ooof," Jamie wheezed, all the air knocked out of him at the sudden contact, and then a disembodied voice - a vaguely familiar voice - asked him if he were alright. "Yeah," Jamie said, realising that he was, "Yeah, mate, I'm fine. I'm the one sitting in the way, aren't I?" Jamie stood up for a moment, still staying rooted to his spot, just trying to see the man he was talking to, "The boat I'm not so sure of, but those people over there," he gestured at the noise of work, "are trying to get some trees down for a raft. I'm just meant to stay here and keep out of trouble. My brother will have my head, otherwise."

Helping to chop down the tree was taking a lot of concentration -- for some reason, the rest of the people making the attempt were sticking to their crappy little tools for doing it, and Teak was embroiled in trying to get them to let him use his firepower for it -- but he kept making time to check in on Jamie, periodically. Darting forward to look for the little teddybear-lump in the sand and make sure it was still there. "Won't be long," Teak called to him at one point, although that was a lie. These people were taking for-ever. 

He was about to get back to it when he thought he heard Jamie start talking (the words were hard to make out, but the lilt of a London accent made it through)-- --and then realized it wasn't Jamie at all. It was Emre. Talking to his baby brother. Watch what you're doing! one of the other idiots squalled at him, and Teak tore his attention away from Jamie to slap his hands against the trunk and out of the way of the swinging axe that was as dull as the guy wielding it. Everyone else seemed to have run off somewhere, leaving only this one guy and him. "Yeah, yeah, if you just let me burn some of the trunk--" Teak began, but the guy wasn't listening, and he was. To see what Jamie and Emre were talking about.

Emre didn't need the other bloke to stand, but he figured it was only polite or whatever.  Especially in the fog, when at the moment it just looked like a pale shadow below him.  Emre could make out his face now - square and rounded at the same time, and rather familiar - but Emre wasn't in the mood to figure out from where, since really everyone around the island was 'vaguely familiar'; it was the nature of a small island and strangers. "They've all run off, innit.  Back to the beach I think," Emre said with a huff as he looked over in that direction (he guessed it was the right direction).  "Right, suppose I should follow them then.  The boat - raft, whatever - is on the beach like..." 

But Emre's decision was interrupted by an awful creaking noise - one loud enough to puncture even through the sound-muffling fog.  Without the ability to see what was bloody going on, Emre could only look in the direction, dropping his dragged supplies and bracing for...something.  A monster?  A jinn?  It could be anything. And it was.  At the last minute,  Emre realized the thing charging down towards them were the fronds of a tree - the coconut tree the other fellow just mentioned.

"Fuck--!" Emre yelped and shoved the other man forward, diving along with him.  The other was sturdy as hell but somehow Emre got him to move, as the tree crashed onto them.  Emre slid off the other man, face colliding so hard into the sand that stars spun, dazed.  He groaned, and tried to crawl up - but his leg felt pinned.  "Fucking hell..."

Before Jamie even knew what was happening he was being pushed forward, and though his body resisted at first - he went down with only the strongest of efforts - he heard the crack, and allowed himself to get shoved down into the sand again; this time under the stranger and the tree, once again the wind knocked out of him. But when he sat up - with a little extra effort than it might normally have taken - he shimmied out from under his saviour and tugged his arm free, only to realise that the other man didn't have the same luxury. He was pinned under the coconut tree. And if the tree had fallen- 

 "Ketts!" Jamie hollered, "Ketts, where are you?! There's a bloke over here trapped under the tree! He saved my life. KETTLE, I NEED YOU!! Come help me!" Jamie got down in the sand again, murmuring to himself, 'Oh god, please let Teak be alright. Please, I'll do anything,' before turning his attentions to Emre. "Are you hurt?" he asked, "Does your leg feel broken or just stuck? What can I do?" "KETTLE!" he shrieked again, "Kettle, come help!"

The other guy had been off like a shot once the tree started falling. Okay, not exactly then -- but when he saw the flash-bang of Teak's concentrated fire-pop, going off like a cherry bomb inside the wedge that the guy had cut into the trunk. "Hey, where are you going?" Teak called after him, insincerely. "Scared of a little success?" He didn't have much time to crow, though; the tree fell at an angle he didn’t expect, and Teak could only watch as shapes on its other end moved, scrambled, fell. And then his brother's voice, high and panicked, and Teak scrambled through the sand with one of his untied shoes coming half-off and making him almost faceplant. 

 "Jamie?" he shouted back. "Jamie, are you okay? You didn't get hurt, did you? If somebody hurt you--" But he collided with the compact, crouched-over form of his brother, and this time Teak did drop down onto one knee as his shoe flew off. And found himself with an eyeful of Emre Akbar, of course, and his brother's worried squalling in his ear. "You're fine, right?" Teak asked Jamie, first and foremost, before looking at Emre. "You're ... you trapped, or something?"

Jamie didn't care how it looked, or if it was an appropriate moment, he threw his arms around his brother and held on tight, thanking Maria that Teak was safe and sound beside him. "I'm fine," he managed in a wavery voice. "I wouldn't be, but I am, because this geezer threw me out of the way. I'm fine. Just shaken up is all. Are you alright? Because we need to get him out of here."

Emre was dazed enough not to register the names that the other man was hollering for, something about a kettle.  Was this the best time for tea?  Honestly, maybe it was.  Emre was afraid of the fact that he couldn't feel any pain in his leg; he couldn't really feel his leg at all, so yeah - best time to put the kettle on.

It was only when he saw someone else racing forward - and bleary, Emre focused when the stout fellow flung his little arms around the new arrival like a child, only to have his brain belatedly fill in the details over a growing alarm.  Jamie, this one was called.  Kettle, he'd called to the other, only it had nothing to do with tea and had everything to do with --

"Teak?" Emre asked hoarsely, and grimaced at the sight. This was the brother - the one Madi mentioned.  English as you please, and clinging to Teak like a little big-eyed monkey.  'Are you alright', Jamie asked Teak, as if Emre wasn't the one pinned under the bloody tree after saving his bloody life.

"Tree's on me," Emre said, eyes flicking from one pale face to the other, so close together they became one.  "It were falling on your mate here first."

Teak rubbed Jamie's back, shushing at him instinctively as he kept an eye on Emre. Who really wasn't looking all that great, and a more petty part of Teak's mind was pleased about that. Not so full of yourself now, huh? None of that attitude when you're under a tree?

If it was just the two of them, Teak would've ditched. Left Emre there for somebody else to give a crap about. But Jamie was clinging to him, panicky and concerned, so Teak drew in a breath and redirected his attention at Emre. "I'm fine, Jamie," Teak said, taking in the pain-tightening around Emre's huge eyes. "The thing we need to concentrate on is moving this tree trunk. Without making it worse on the geezer."

He patted his brother's hip. "Go down to the other end of the tree and take a look so we know where it's pressing against him. I just need to ask Emre a few things." Teak looked at Jamie, giving him a reassuring smile before pushing him in the other direction. "That's my brother," Teak said to Emre, his voice so low it was almost pitched out of hearing range. "And my brother has a very special way of thinking about me. Nothing's gonna change his mind. You got that?"

"Right", Jamie said, half to himself and half to Teakettle, "Right. I'll go look at the other end and see how bad things are." He smiled shakily at the pat to his hip. "I'm so glad you're alright, Ketts. I was so fucking scared," before letting Teak push him away to make himself useful, heading for the other end of the tree and Emre's trapped leg.

The fog was still so thick that Jamie had to get back on his knees in the sand to really see what was happening, but when he realised, he called back to Teak. "He's pretty firmly stuck - do we lift the tree, or do I try to manipulate the earth to get him out?" Not that Jamie was terribly adept at that yet - but he had to offer. Emre had saved his life after all. The least he could do was try everything he had at his disposal. Jamie could still hear his brother talking to the trapped man, but he couldn't make out what was being said. "Teak?" he called again, "Teak what are you thinking?"

"What you mean, your brother," Emre hissed, words sibilant and sharp, with no intention of playing along with Teak's little game.  He mustered up a glare through his haze.  "Mandem's London, and you're American.  Can't imagine it really matters what he thinks of you as it's all a lie,  innit. Bloody wanker."

Emre could only vaguely hear Jamie's voice sing-songing behind him, through the fog.  He pushed himself up on his arms then, struggling to gain some ground and dignity.  The most he could manage was to balance on his arms, like a raised cobra.

"Need a lever, mate," Emre called back over his shoulder, towards Jamie.  "A long pole like, lift the tree off and I'll clip right out."  He looked back up at Teak, resenting how near he was.  "Magic don't work, yeah.  Dunno why. Fog maybe."

"I mean my brother! People are allowed to have brothers from other places, gosh." Teak glared back at Emre, almost wanting to grab the other man by his throat or his collar but loathe to get too close, having the unsettling feeling that Emre might snap those clean white teeth at his hand and snip a finger right off. "You better be calling me a wanker and not him. You better not be calling him anything."

They both held off in their spitting at each other when Jamie called back with his findings, which were, frankly, of concern. "Yeah, a lever," Teak appended onto Emre's comment, although he shouted louder over the tail end to say, "Don't go looking for one! You shouldn't wander off in the fog."

Teak spared a glare for Emre, saying, "Magic won't work on the fog. He might as well try his earth magic." He lifted his voice, still glaring at Emre, "Jamie! Try your earth magic, but be careful. You don't want the tree settling on him even heavier. Maybe if you could try to make a hump of sand further up the trunk to lift it? I'll look for a lever." He scrambled to his feet, and if he kicked some sand in Emre's face and even maybe connected with the guy's chin with the toe of his one still-sneakered foot, well. It was a fog! Nobody could blame him.

Jamie heard Teak's warning not to go astray in search of levers and he smiled to himself, happy to have Teak in charge again; his heart finally starting to beat at a reasonable pace once more, though he got a bit nervous when Teak told him to take a bash with his earth-magic, knowing he could very likely make things worse with the wrong sort of approach. But a hump of sand further up the tree he felt vaguely sure he could do; something in the low reverberations of the ground comforting and reassuring, and Jamie moved to a new vantage point to redistribute the tree's not inconsiderable weight, hopefully making the lever idea an easy task to accomplish.

So he sank back down to his knees and buried his hands in the sand, concentrating for all he was worth, visualising the sand raising the felled coconut tree and freeing Emre's leg; and for a frustrating moment there was nothing, no movement, no shift, no anything at all. So Jamie redoubled his efforts, eyes squeezed shut, until suddenly the sand began to shake around them, skimming and redistributing itself until it had made a hill, a fulcrum, and Jamie opened his eyes again, startled at his accomplishment. "Ketts," he called excitedly, "I did it! Have you found that lever yet? Emre, are you doing alright?"

Emre still didn't understand the nature of Teak and Jamie's fraternity, but it annoyed him nonetheless.  Particularly when Teak - fucking Teak - had the nerve to act protective about his brother.  Emre kissed his teeth.  "Leave it out, you muppet, bruv's what? Twenty-seven? Thirty then?  He's not some youth.  You're easy to exploit my little bruvver innit, you nasty fuck.  I'll call him what I like and he'll thank me for it."

It was grotesque, to Emre, to watch Teak pretend to care about that poor little man.  All he could see was the way Jamie clung to his older brother with such neediness, such fear that Teak might be hurt.  Emre had a hard time believing Teak cared about anything beyond his own well-tanned hands.

Teak booted sand up and Emre snarled, watching him scamper off into the fog.  He remained silent, mulling over Madi's words.  Jamie, Teak's brother, who knew an 'Emre' the drug-dealer.  Fucking hell.  It was likely, now that he heard the accent and knew it wasn't put on.  This little man might've actually been one of Emre's old clientele, from years back.  Jamie wouldn't remember his face though.  He couldn't.

He felt a sudden easing of pressure off his calf, and it filled with pins and needles, making Emre wince.  But then the pressure returned and Emre was almost glad for it.  "I'm all sunshine, sunshine.  Alright?  No panicking, yeah?  Your bruv's gone off to find the lever, he'll be back soon."  Emre hoped.  "You and Teak, you grew up together then?"

"No, no panicking," Jamie answered, closer to Emre's head now than he had been, keeping a weather eye on his little masterpiece made of sand, pleased to have finally done something useful. "As soon as Teak finds the right kind of lever, we'll have you out of there, yeah? And I'll be able to thank you properly for what you did for me. I mean, you saved my life, mate. I'll never be able to repay you for that."

"But no, Teak and I didn't grow up together." Jamie laughed then, slightly high pitched and jangling, "But I suppose the accents rather give that away, don't they? We've the same dad but different mums, right? I grew up in London and Teak in New York. We didn't even meet until I was ten and he was fifteen. We're close though. We made sure to be."

Emre dipped into a moment of absolute surreal.  His brain first reminding him that he was on an island where people didn't age and had magic.  Then afterwards, that they were caught in a mysterious fog that cast everything in muted noise and sight, quiet, ominous and serene.  And finally, that one more 'coincidence' (kismet? punishment?) might've cropped up on the island, in the form of little Jamie, Teaks' Londonist brother and once-purchaser of Emre's gear.

He stayed silent for a long moment, but honed in on a specific fascination: the brotherly connection between Jamie and Teak.  Emre yearned to hear it, yet resented knowing it as well;  thinking jealously and bitterly of Teak and Iyaz on New Years, in flagrante.  Teak, basking in the love and reverence of his own younger brother, but eager to take Emre's little brother as well.

Because of course he did.  Boys like Teak felt entitled to it all, and inevitably got it all their way in the end, after all.  He got Jamie's adoration, he got Iyaz seduced.

"Remarkable, how you managed to be so close, living so far apart.  Seems he's everything to you, innit mate," Emre said, voice hoarse and throaty.  "Where'd you grow up in London then? My ends were Forest Gate, yeah.  Moved about when I got older, though."

"We made an effort to be. Visits, hols, I saw Teak as often as I could, and fortunately our grandfather had enough money to make that happen. And he is actually, yeah," Jamie went on, "Ever since I got here, I'd have been lost without Kettle. I mean, he's my big brother. Looks after me, doesn't he?"

"Try not to move," Jamie said sympathetically, the rawness of Emre's voice something of a cause for concern, "Teak'll be back soon, I promise. We'll get you out of there."

Going back to Emre's questions, Jamie grinned a little when he heard Emre hailed from Forest Gate. "I had a mate, lived over there. Me though, I grew up in Hackney. Shoreditch, if you want to be specific. Still do, I suppose. Or my mum does, anyway." Jamie chuckled to himself. "Did you want to hear something funny?" he asked, "I had a drug dealer once called Emre. What are the odds of that, eh?"

Emre had to admit: he did feel a strange sense of comfort, hearing someone who spoke his language.  Sure, Americans did English too, but their sort of English.  This, this Jamie, was familiar.  That East End sound of him, glorious.

"Shoreditch, what.  You one of them artisanal art-house gastro-pub coffeehouse types then?" Emre couldn't help teasing, reveling in the shared locality.

But Emre knew he couldn't afford to indulge himself.  Not when this little bloke was Teak's brother, and not when Jamie cheerfully confirmed his own 'Emre the dealer'.  He shut his eyes and exhaled, glad to solidify this confirmation, made homesick by Jamie's cadences, but wishing none of this was happening.

"You what?" Emre said, forcing amusement into his tone.  He kissed his teeth.  "Nah man, I worked a Tesco's innit." A reliable lie.  One he'd used with Piper.  "Most drugs I ever sold were vitamins.  Sure could do with some weed right now though, can't I." Emre paused, suddenly feeling wildly cocky and slightly masochistic as he then asked,  "So what ever happened to your Emre then?"

“I am now," Jamie laughed, "It wasn't that way when I was growing up. But yeah, I sell designer trainers at one of those little boutiquey shops where everything costs 10 times what it's worth, so I suppose I might better lean into the Shoreditch of it all."

When Emre went on to ask about Emre the long lost drug dealer though, assuring Jamie that he worked at Tesco's, the familiarity of his voice just seemed to increase tenfold, until Jamie almost had to laugh at himself for even entertaining the idea that this Emre and his hard man Emre might be one and the same. Tesco's was a far cry from what Jamie had heard his Emre was capable of, and besides, even here, really what were the odds?

"My Emre?" Jamie asked, "Well, I suppose we just drifted apart. I was a good customer for about three years or so - just party drugs, nothing to worry over - and then a mate of mine wound up in hospital, courtesy of Emre, and I gave up the drugs after that. I mean a bit of fun is a bit of fun, but when people end up with breaks and fractures, it's time to admit that the fun is over, yeah? I haven't even touched a spliff in years."

"Oi, which shop then?" Emre asked, almost a little too eagerly.  The craving pinged hard and fast the moment Jamie mentioned the magic words 'trainers' and 'boutique'.  What Emre wouldn't give, for a good pair of designer trainers.  No that he'd wear them in this place, of course.  Just keep them, safe and precious, just to....look at.  And clean, from time to time.

He doubted it was any shop he'd frequented though, given what Jamie told him next, about what happened to 'his Emre'.  Right...that was right.  Vague memories drifted into Emre's mind now, sloshing and lapping in waves that made Emre feel almost drunk.  It was all so far away, so far back, soft and hazy like a dream.  A dream about drugs dealing, the street hustle, the roadmen and rudeboys, the clientele and parties, the fights and blood flying in the alleyways.  So Jamie had been tied up in that scene once, and Emre had supplied him.

He wished he could get a better look at Jamie's face, but he was also glad for the fog, for now. Because if there was even a chance of Emre recognizing Jamie, there was also a chance of Jamie recognizing his face too.

"Right yeah mate,"  Emre agreed with a whole-hearted good-lad tone.  "Best to get out of that life before it's too late innit.  Too many...too many mates I know never made it past their twenties innit.  Sure you know the same."

There was no doubt, this Jamie knew the same.  This Jamie, who did not grow up posh  and entitled, like his older brother.  This Jamie who was nothing like Teak, yet retained the deepest loyalty to him.  Fucking hell.   Despite how much Emre felt desperate to connect with a slice of home, he would have to be careful.  Fucking Teak.

Scouting around for a proper branch to use as a lever was proving harder than he'd anticipated; out here on the beach coconut trees were the main ones, and they just had the big long trunk, no branches. And Teak had wanted to stay close by to keep an ear on the conversation, keep an eye on his brother, and even more than that to keep an eye on Emre. Which might have seemed like overkill, given that Emre was currently caught like a mean-faced mouse in a trap, but Teak didn't think it was prudent to underestimate the man. Not after that cut that Emre had left high on Teak's cheekbone when he'd swung at him.

But the lack of branches forced Teak to venture a little further afield, to the supply tent that he'd so scorned earlier when he was getting clothes for Jamie. At least there he was able to collect a long, sturdy branch that some thoughtful person had thoughtfully stocked, and bore it back to the felled tree as fast as he could.

At least his brother seemed fine. Crouched down chatting away with Emre, in fact, and since Jamie wasn't the sort who could conceal his feelings, Teak was relieved to hear that his voice sounded normal, interested, the only tenseness in it from the current situation. "I found something," Teak called, and moved along the length of the trunk until he located a built-up hump of sand. "You did this, Jamie?" he said. "Wow. That's really good. I guess being able to use our powers excellently right out the gate must run in our family, huh? Bevans-Middleton brothers for the win, awwwright!"

Childish and petty to champion his brother and himself in front of the man whose brother Teak had aggressively made out with? Maybe. But Emre the mean-face was in no position to object. "I'm gonna get this lever in and lift the trunk," Teak said. "Jamie, you be ready to pull him out when it lifts, okay? Emre, you get ready to crawl fast."

Jamie was just in the midst of replying that he'd worked at Mr. Sneaker on Bethnal Green Road, and agreeing that it was best to get out of that life before it took more from you than you were willing to part with, when Teak arrived back with a substantial sized branch and some words of praise for Jamie's little built up sand hill, and Jamie grinned with pride, proud of his own achievement and even prouder that Teak was impressed too.

Kettle explained what he was about to do, told Jamie and Emre to be ready, and Jamie nodded, more than prepared to tug Emre free if he had to. "Alright, Emre?" he asked. "Count of three, yeah?"

Mollified whilst chatting with Jamie, the moment Teak showed up in all his tanned glory raised Emre's ire from zero to eighty the moment he heard Teak say 'Wow'.  He even went as far - for Emre's audience, he was sure of it - to holler about how great him and his little brother were.  Emre steamed internally; and there was that small, nagging part of Emre that couldn't help thinking: wasn't Teak right?  Despite people who were wary of Teak, there were always going to be others charmed by him - like Emre's own brother.  And it would be even moreso now that Teak paraded  around his own cute little mascot baby brother.

This was just the way of the world.  And isolated as the island was, the people on it were not all inured to the way the world worked, for boys like Teak Middleton.    They always got their way, in the end.

A rush of tension and mild defeat  washed over Emre's previous glee, and he nodded at Jamie.  "On three, yeah," he said softly.  The moment the brothers worked in tandem and pried the coconut tree up and Emre scrambled free, wincing at the rush of pins and needles again.  He rolled into sitting up, inspecting his calf first, then smacking feeling back into it.  "I'm alright.  I'm fine.  Thank you."

"Well, if you're sure you're fine," Teak said ungenerously, dropping the branch now that it was no longer needed. He turned his attention back to Jamie while taking off his single shoe, annoyed that he'd misplaced the other. "Do you still have those shoelaces, Jamie? We should get going and you need to tether yourself to me again. This fog looks even thicker than it was to start with."

Moving a little closer to Jamie, Teak said in a lower voice as if Emre would jump onto this plan, "--those other people ran off but I think we should check out where they might be building some rafts. And see if we can get on one of those to head out to the rescue ship. Just you and me, maybe, if we can get one for ourselves."

"Kettle!" Jamie scolded, "Give the poor lad a minute. Jesus." He turned to Emre, "You're sure you're not hurt?", then refocused back on his brother, hurriedly pulling Teak's shoelaces back out of his pockets.

"I've still got them, yeah." He got to his feet and began tying himself to his older brother once again. "Right," he murmured, "I think the fog is thicker now. And rafts sound like a good idea - but shouldn't we bring Emre too? He was looking for the boat builders when he nearly got crushed saving my life."

Emre remained in the sand, unwilling to try and stand-up yet because he didn't want to stumble in front of Teak. He just stared, trying to hide his incredulity, as Jamie literally tied himself to Teak.  If Emre ever suggested something like that to Iyaz, he'd get nothing but grief from his little brother.  Rightfully so, really. Every demonstration of blind adoration that Jamie demonstrated towards Teak, only made things more painfully obvious (and a bit horrifying) to Emre.

He hated to agree with anything Teak said, but he called out to Jamie anyway,  "Nah mate, don't fret over me.  I'll find my way to Tamyra's boat, you help your brother, yeah."

Maybe they'd make some bollocks raft, and then drown out at sea together, inshallah.

"And maybe find out who tried to drop a tree on you, yeah? Nearly offed you, didn't it?  Accident or no."

[toxoiddiamond]

ORLANDO BENJAMIN FORRESTER What smells remind them of their childhood? His mother always wore (and still wears) Emeraude perfume. Every now and then someone will pass by Orli and he’ll catch the scent of Emeraude and be immediately transported back to his childhood. What filler words do they use in everyday speech? Do they have an accent or speech impediment? If someone says something that requires an acknowledgement but not a full-on response, he’ll usually say something like “ah,” or “mm,” just something to make it clear he’s listening. He also begins sentences with “well…” if he’s thinking over his response. He just has a typical American accent, no speech impediments and nothing remarkable about his manner of speaking. Do they make quick decisions and act on them? Do they take time out to think about actions and consequences? Orli isn’t exactly impulsive when it comes to his decision making (unless he has no choice but to act on instinct). If he can, he prefers to take some time to really think things through, to look at things from every angle, before he acts. This is why he’s given so much leeway at work to basically do what he thinks is best– the higher-ups know that Orli never acts on a whim and wouldn’t be doing anything unless he’d considered all the possibilities, all the possible outcomes, etc. How many unread messages are in their phone? None. Orli reads all of his messages as soon as they come in, and responds immediately unless the message doesn’t require a response. He’s not one to leave unread texts, emails, or anything else. Where do they go when they’re angry? Anywhere that will get him away from the source of his anger. If he’s angry at work, he’ll make an excuse to leave the office for whatever reason (whether it’s to do some research or to grab some coffee) and will just hang out in his car for a while until he’s calmed down. Outside of work, he usually takes out any anger or frustration by doing some kickboxing at the gym. On what occasion do they lie? Orli isn’t too much of a liar, he usually tells the truth about things, or tries to give a diplomatic answer if he can’t be as honest as he’d like (this happens a lot when he speaks with the higher-ups at work). Mainly he tells little white lies, harmless lies just for the sake of sparing people’s feelings or keeping the peace. He’s not brutally honest by any means and doesn’t want to make anyone feel needlessly bad about themselves. How would they respond to an apology from somebody they still can’t forgive? He would probably say he accepts the apology if it seems sincere. He still would never forget what they did, but he would at least be civil if it really did seem like they were sorry. But if the apology seemed insincere to him, he wouldn’t accept it and would continue to ignore the person whenever possible. What is the worst thing they did to someone they loved? He cheated on his girlfriend while he was in college. He got wasted at a party after midterms and ended up hooking up with a random guy. He felt absolutely horrible about the situation and confessed to her right away. She was understandably upset and broke up with him on the spot. Although he was heartbroken, since she was his first love, he didn’t fight her on it or try to convince her to stay with him because he knew he’d completely fucked up and ruined any trust they had between them. They sort of made up about a year later and became friends, though of course things were never the same between them. Do they enjoy working out? Do they play any sports? Orli really enjoys doing various types of martial arts– his current interest is kickboxing, and he has been taking classes for a few months. He’s also done kenpo karate, taekwondo, and jiu jitsu. He’s not a black belt or anything, he just enjoys dabbling and likes taking out his anger in a constructive way. He used to do track in high school, but he’s not really into running anymore. Do they believe people who say they have no regrets? Do they have any? If not, why don’t they have any? Orli thinks that anyone who says they don’t regret anything is full of shit. In his mind, if you don’t regret anything, then you haven’t learned anything or bettered yourself. He has plenty of regrets, some more significant than others. Which do they prefer, a lot of attention, or a little appreciation? Appreciation, hands down. Too much attention makes him feel a bit smothered, but any type of appreciation, even a quick thank you or an acknowledgment of his hard work, gives him a lot of satisfaction. Where do they feel the safest? Once Orli and his siblings all started doing well for themselves, they all pitched in to help buy their parents their dream home in Gig Harbor, Washington. It’s a very lovely, slightly secluded home with a gorgeous view. Orli goes to visit them there at least once a year, and just being there is extremely relaxing for him. By far, it’s the place he feels the safest. Are they more likely to ask for permission or forgiveness? Although he’s not the type to just go rogue all the time, he’s also not someone who asks permission for every little thing. If there’s something he wants to do, something he thinks will help a case along, but he thinks the higher-ups might say no, he’ll just do it without asking and tell them about it later. He’s never really gotten in trouble because it’s always worked out well in the end. Do they stay up late or wake up early? Both. If Orli had his way, he’d stay up late and also sleep in– that’s just the way his body clock is. But as it is, he stays up late (both to work and for pleasure), then wakes up fairly early for work. He does sleep in on his days off, and absolutely refuses to do anything that would require him to get up early on those days. Have they ever been bullied or teased? Orli grew up in Springfield, Illinois, which is widely known for being one of the most racist towns in the US. So, yes, he’s been bullied, teased, assaulted, and all manner of things. His parents tried to tell him to keep his head down, to not start anything or fight back because they were always worried that if he tried to fight back it would only make things worse for him. But by the time Orli got to middle school, he was tired of just taking it. He snapped one day when one of his bullies started bothering him and ended up beating the shit out of him. Orli got in huge trouble and was nearly expelled from school, but everyone pretty much backed off after that, so he felt it was worth it. Who was their first best friend? Where did they meet him or her? Do they still see each other? His first best friend was a classmate of his from high school named Robby. He had friends before that, but no one he was super close with or hung out with all the time. It wasn’t until high school when Orli became more social and started making a ton of friends– he was quite popular. Robby was on the track team with him, and they became fast friends. They aren’t really in touch anymore, but Orli will always think of him fondly. What are their weaknesses? Hubris? Pride? Controlling? He is definitely prideful, and has a hard time admitting when he needs help, or when he’s struggling. Those are things he tends to keep to himself. He feels that he needs to be completely self-reliant, and that asking for help shows too much weakness. He also has a hard time saying no to people if they ask him to do something, and as a result, he is always stretched very thin. He takes on far too many projects/requests at a time and just ends up stressing himself out– this is part of the reason why his former partner was such an asset. He always said no for Orli and basically told people to stop asking him/them to do anything more, that they were already busy enough with their own responsibilities. What are their eating habits? Orli is quite a healthy eater. He’s the type to view food purely as fuel, rather than something for enjoyment. He’s a decent cook and usually does meal prep for himself on his days off so he’ll have food he can quickly pop into the microwave without having to think too much. Once in a while he will indulge in something like a slice of cake, or a burger and fries, but the majority of the time he prefers to stick to healthier things. What is the most violent thing they’ve ever done, and the most violent thing done to them? The most violent thing he’s ever done was beating up a bully in middle school. The kid ended up in the hospital, though his injuries weren’t serious enough that he needed to stay overnight or anything– he had a couple of broken bones, a broken nose, and needed some stitches on his face. Orli has shot people in the line of duty, but he would consider that less violent, because he always does his best to remain calm and collected and only shoots to incapacitate rather than kill. He has had a lot of violence directed at him in his life. Fellow classmates used to hit him and push him, he was assaulted by a police officer once (before he became a detective). But the most violent thing done to him was when him and his partner were caught in a firefight in the middle of a drug bust. His partner was killed, and Orli ended up in the ICU with severe injuries. Did they have an easy or difficult childhood? Overall, it was pretty difficult. Growing up where he did was not easy and he had a hard time making friends or living any sort of normal life. But his parents and siblings were a great support system, and he never felt like he was completely alone. Things got much easier for him in high school, when his father got a new job in another state and they moved to a much less backwards town. He ended up loving high school because his classmates weren’t all racist assholes and he made tons of friends.

[brrahbrrahcharacterimagines]

My Exception (Brandon/Bran Stark x Reader)

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Bran Stark x Reader

Word Count: 2155

Warnings: Self-doubt, mild angst, spoilers for seasons 1-8, pretty OOC Bran despite my best efforts

Request: If you do write for him, could I request a smut and/or fluff fic for Bran Stark? Maybe about marrying him? -(Anon) 

A/N: I do write for him! I don’t have a whole lot of feelings for him myself so I don’t know how good this will turn out, but I promise to do my best!

You pushed Bran around in the gardens of the Red Keep, relishing in the warm sunlight. You may have been a girl from the North, but that doesn’t mean that you had to love the cold.

“The lilies are beginning to bloom,” you said with a gesture to the pink blossoms. “They look so beautiful.”

“Not as beautiful as you, my dear,” replied your fiance Bran. As Queen-To-Be you took it upon yourself to brighten up the Red Keep yourself. While the builders worked on restoring the inside of the building, you got your hands dirty in the garden. You may have earned yourself a sunburn or two, but you didn’t mind so long as something beautiful could grow again in King’s Landing. After the battle most of the plants were destroyed, either burned or covered in ash and debris. Finally, the new seeds were blooming vibrantly.

As you came to the end of the garden path you saw a short figure making his way towards the two of you.

“Lord Tyrion, how lovely to see you on this fine morning.” You say with a smile. Tyrion smiles a small smile in return.

“It is lovely to see you as well, Lady Y/N. I would like to congratulate you on how the garden is coming, I must admit that the lavender blooms are my favorite.” You beamed at the compliment. “I’m not just here to admire your handiwork though, I have come to remind your fiance about the small council meeting that started nearly twenty minutes ago.” He shot a sharp look at Bran.

“Oh my goodness!” You exclaimed as you flushed. “That was all my fault! I lost track of time showing Bran around the gardens, I am so sorry Tyrion.”

“It’s alright Darling, I forgot as well.” Said Bran comfortingly, looking up at you with those deep eyes you loved yo much. He reached back to grab your hand in his. Tyrion looked at Bran knowingly; Bran does not forget.

Podrick came up to assist Bran to the small council chamber, and you began making your way through the castle. While your future husband worked on fixing the political climate of the six kingdoms, you took it upon yourself to renew the beauty of the Red Keep and King’s Landing. You made many trips around the halls, looking for projects to be done. Just last week you had commissioned a series of paintings to hang in the new throne room when it was finished. You wanted scenes of the war to be depicted, both good and bad. This way future generations would have a reminder of the horror right in the room in which they ruled.

As you meandered down the corridors for a considerable amount of time until you began to hear a small commotion coming from one of the rooms. The closer you got to the room, the more apparent it became that it was full of ladies from the court, chattering and occasionally roaring with laughter. You had never really fit in with the rest of the ladies, but you figured it was worth a shot to try. After all, as Queen you would have to interact with these ladies much more frequently. You began to enter the room, but stopped dead in your tracks as their words found their way to your ears.

“I bet he doesn’t really even like her,” said one of the ladies as the rest had giggled. They could be talking about anyone, you reminded yourself from your place in the doorway. However, you had a knowing, sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. You decided to listen in but not move, as they had not noticed you quite yet. 

“Of course he doesn’t!” Yelled one women as they all erupted into chuckles. “He doesn’t like anyone! He’s the ‘three-eyed-raven’ who doesn’t want!” The woman did a horrendous impression of Bran at the end, making tears spring to your eyes. Not only were they mocking Bran, but also speaking of his false love for you.

“If he doesn’t want, how could he want her? If he is just choosing at random, he could have at least chosen somebody beautiful.” The tears threatened to slip.

“It’s as if she is so stupid that she is unaware of how insincere his affection towards her.”

“And it is as if you are all so stupid that you are unaware of your surroundings,” you said, mustering all your courage so that it did not sound as if you were on the verge of tears. It worked, making all the ladies turn towards you with a gasp. Their reaction spurred you on, taking on a cold demeanor. “You speak of the future Queen behind her back as if she is not there. Though, of course, you had assumed that I was not. Perhaps you should have taken notice of who was entering the room instead of carrying on like children.”

Despite gossiping about you mere seconds ago, this shift in your personality left them speechless and wide-eyed. You held the power, and they all knew it.

“Do not talk about me and my husband-to-be like this again, or there will be consequences.” Your delivery rivaled even Cersei’s, surprising you with just how cold and calculated the words sounded coming from your lips. The ladies nodded, hurrying to leave the room. 

As they left, you too began the walk back to your chambers. It was getting rather late anyway, and the sun was beginning its descent through the sky as the moon began to appear. You slowly made your way back down the corridor to your bedroom. With every step you took, the bravado began to fade and the doubt began to surge through your mind again. The ladies were right. As the Three-Eyed-Raven, Bran was free from earthly wants and desires. It is what made him a good King; he is not selfish or greedy.  But you had not thought about what that meant for the two of you.

You had met as children, running around and getting into loads of trouble when your father would make his monthly visits to Winterfell. House (L/N) may be a small house, but it is a house of proud Northerners who used their closeness to the Lord and Lady Stark to their advantage. You looked back on those memories fondly. Bran and you would always climb anything you could get your hands and feet on, and you would always have to endure a scolding from your father afterwards. You never minded the trouble, so long as you got to hang out with your best friend. 

When you heard of Bran’s fall, you fell to your knees and cried. You thought that your friend would die. By some miracle of the Gods he did not, and you went to visit him as he lie in bed. You were told he would never walk again, and you knew that your climbing days were over. You didn’t mind. All you wanted was to spend time with him, whatever way you could.

The visits to the Starks became less frequent after Ned left for King’s Landing. After his execution, your father raced to Winterfell to help Robb and his army in any way that he could. You got to accompany him, but after Theon returned to take Winterfell you were whisked away to the Riverlands. You were informed of Bran and Rickard’s passing weeks later, falling into a deep lull for many months.

As Sansa and the other Starks returned to Winterfell years later, you returned as well. You reunited with Bran, feeling something special spark as your eyes landed on him for the first time in years. It was more than just seeing an old friend. In fact, it was even more than just seeing your best childhood friend who you had believed was dead for years It was as if you were seeing your soulmate.

Now looking back on that memory, the way you felt, you realized that it may have been one-sided. You knew that he did not desire as he had before disappearing behind the wall, but you thought that you were different. You thought that he had loved you. Maybe instead he was able to read you like a book, realizing that you would be the easiest to have by his side because you would be there out of devotion instead of greed. Perhaps you were merely the most convenient.

Tears made their way from your eyes and down your cheeks as you finally reached the door, closing it behind you. To your surprise, Bran was already inside. You must have wandered the castle halls for longer than you thought. He turned his chair from where he had been sitting at the window so that he could face you.

“What is wrong, my dear?” He asked, using his arms to wheel his way over to you. Despite your obvious unhappiness, you did not want to admit to him your weakness.

“Nothing, Bran,’ you replied. He cocked his head.

“You never call me that.”

“Well it is your name.”

You began to get ready for bed, feeling Bran’s eyes on you as you did so.

“My love, I cannot help you unless you tell me what is wrong.” He said. You could hear the pain in his voice.

“As if you couldn’t just read my mind,” you retort hotly. Bran let out a sigh.

“You know that I promised never to do that to you, Y/N. You know that I love you and I respect your privacy. I would never use my greensight against you to see what has happened to make you so upset. I want you to tell me yourself if you decide to of your own accord.”

You took a deep, shaky breath.

“But do you?” You asked. Bran furrowed his brows.

“Do I what, Y/N?”

“You said you love me. Do you?” The tears began again, leaving hot trails on your face. His face fell. He reached out to you, pulling you to him so that you sat sideways across his lap. He held you with one arm as he wiped the tears as they fell from your eyes.

“Of course I do, my dear. You are so special to me. You are a light shining in my life every day and I am lucky to be able to call you my own. What would make you think that I may feel any other way about you?” Bran stared into your eyes and you knew he was telling the truth. His eyes were full of love and devotion, and you knew it. You leaned against his chest.

“You’re the Three-Eyed-Raven,” you say.

“Does that make me any less your fiance as well?”

“No, but it means that you do not have wants as normal people do.”

Realizing what you thought, Bran pulling you into a tight hug, caressing your hair. 

“You are right Y/N, I do not desire things as I did before I was pushed from that tower. But that does not mean that I do not desire you.”

You pulled back from him, looking into his eyes.

“I may not want land, or wealth, or power, and I may not desire in the same way. But you, my darling,” said Bran, looking at you with admiration, “are my exception. I want you more than anyone could ever want anything. The first time I saw you again after the start of the war I felt something change in me. You sparked desire that I thought I could never feel. I have full faith that fate brought us together, whether because I am the Three-Eyed-Raven or in spite of that. I do love you Y/N, with all of my heart.”

You crashed your lips to Bran’s, his moving in sync with yours as you moved your body to straddle him instead of sitting sideways. 

“I love you too Bran,” you said between kisses as you pulled back for air. He wheeled the two of you towards the bed that you shared, making you squeal and wrap your arms around his neck so that you wouldn’t fall.

“Come love, let’s get into bed so that I may lay with the woman I love. My fiancee.”

“Bran, that was rather cheesy. Especially for you.” He smiled up at you as you helped him into bed, sliding in beside him and letting his arms wrap around you.

“But you loved it, didn’t you?”

“My love, if you don’t hush up I won’t help you get up in the morning and you’ll be stuck here all day.” You retort with a blush.

“You’re a cruel woman,” he teased. “But I love you anyway.”

You turned to face him and see his smiling face. You snuggled closer to his chest.

“And I love you too, my dear.”

[earthcement8-blog]

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[dotwrites]

Nightmares (part 2)

Second chapter of a 2-part Kuzupeko fic. It was already posted on AO3 when I posted the first chapter on tumblr, but I didn’t include it in the post itself. No character death or violence in this chapter, just cuddles and comfort.

Read on AO3 or below.

Fuyuhiko often found himself staying up late. Usually he was thinking, about his clan and what could have happened to it in the time he’d been gone, or about his friends and wondering if those who were still asleep would eventually wake up and if the group would ever get to leave the island, or about Peko and their relationship, wondering if it was healthy or not and if she was really okay with being with somebody she had always been raised to believe was superior to her.

That night, his mind was on how Naegi had sent them less supplies than usual, and how they would have to stretch out what they had until his next shipment. He was just barely starting to fall asleep when a knock on his door startled him.

Fuyuhiko jumped, scowling as he turned the lamp on and got out of bed. Whatever they wanted had better be important, he decided, as he slid his slippers on and padded over to the door. He was ready to ask whoever it was what the hell they wanted that couldn’t wait until morning, but the words melted away when he opened the door and saw his girlfriend on the other side. Her hands were clasped together and despite her attention being on the floor, he could see her eyes full of worry, a slight bit of fear in them that he only ever saw when she was remembering some of the things they had done to each other before the simulation.

“Hey,” he said softly, slipping out the door to stand beside her, “You alright?”

Peko looked at him then, giving him a small, insincere smile, “I...had a nightmare,” she admitted.

“Wanna talk about it?” He asked, reaching forward to take her hands in his.

She shook her head, gently squeezing his hand in return, “Not particularly, but...I do not want to be alone. Is it okay if I...spend the night with you?”

Fuyuhiko simply blinked, unsure how to answer that. Spending a night together with somebody you had just recently started dating was...a little inappropriate, wasn’t it?

“It is alright if you would rather not,” Peko added, and he felt a tinge of guilt that she had noticed his hesitation. This was the first sizable thing she had ever asked him for, and she was asking because the nightmare had really shaken her and she needed comfort. Even if it was inappropriate for most people in new relationships, it wasn’t like they hadn’t spent most nights together when they were children, or like they were a normal couple. She was looking at him, her eyes tired and sad and a little hopeful that maybe he would say yes. Though she said it was alright, he knew if he said no she wouldn’t sleep because she would be too scared of the nightmare returning. To hell with what’s appropriate and what isn’t, he decided, she needed him and he was going to be there like he had promised.

“No, no, I’m happy to do it,” He took a step back into his cottage and held the door open for her, “Come on in.”

Peko seemed to visibly relax, smiling again(a little more genuine, if still sad), before walking through the doorway, “Thank you, Fuyuhiko.”

She slipped her shoes off and left her sword leaning against the wall by the door, but waited there as he walked to his bed and left his slippers by the foot of it. Usually he would tease her for waiting like that, but she was already so upset that he didn’t want to risk making it worse. He simply sat on his bed and waved at her to join him, smiling as she came over and sat beside him, just a few inches between them.

They sat in silence, Peko staring at nothing as Fuyuhiko watched her, noticing the little things she did unconsciously when she worried; the way her brows knit together just the slightest bit, and how she chewed on her lower lip. She’d had those habits ever since they were children, sometimes they would show through even when she had gotten really good at hiding her emotions, and those times always left Fuyuhiko a little scared. He wished they were children again, so her worries would be simple things, but then again, she never really got a normal childhood. Still, at least in those days she didn’t have nightmares about the terrible things they had done to people, or the simulation, or the time they spent at Hope’s Peak.

“I am...sorry for coming so late at night,” she said eventually, looking at him once again. Her cheeks flushed pink as she saw he had been watching, and he noticed that, too. After spending so much of their lives together, noticing the little things had become easy for him.

“Don’t be sorry, I’m glad you did. We all get some...pretty bad nightmares, and going through that shit alone isn’t easy,” He put a hand on her back as he spoke, rubbing his thumb in lazy circles to comfort her. She probably didn’t even realize that she leaned towards him as he did.

“You too?” She asked, and her hand went to rest on his knee.

“Sometimes, yeah. They say it’s normal, we went through a lot of trauma and having nightmares about it is typical. Doesn’t make it any easier in the moment, though, does it?”

Peko shook her head, “It doesn’t. That nightmare was just...terrifying.”

Fuyuhiko nodded, scooting a little close so his leg was against hers, “Is it okay that I’m this close?” He asked. He asked often, scared that if she wasn’t okay with something she wouldn’t say anything.

“Mhmm,” she hummed, and surprised him by taking it a step further. Her arm wrapped around his waist and her head rested on his shoulder, “Is it alright that I do this?”

“Yeah,” he agreed. Her asking permission for things would usually upset him, but asking if she could do something romantic like this was different. She asked because he asked, and he assumed that maybe she thought that was how relationships worked, and he didn’t particularly mind it if that’s how theirs did.

“Good,” she sighed, breath a little shaky.

That set off an alarm for Fuyuhiko; she was trying not to cry. He wrapped an arm around her, turning his body to hold her closer and she turned towards him in response, her other arm wrapping around him too. She wasn’t just holding onto him, she was...almost clinging, the way she did when she’d woken up from the simulation-induced coma and realized he was okay. The way she did when they were kids and he got into a fight and had a split lip and black eye and got sent to the nurse. The way that meant she had been scared for him.

“Hey,” he whispered, “It’s alright, I’m here, you’re okay. Nothing’s going to happen to you.”

She nodded, but she didn’t say anything, just...kept holding him for dear life. It was like a switch had flipped, like now that they were holding onto each other she could let herself be upset by the nightmare again.

“I’ve got you, and I’m not letting go, okay?” He murmured, one hand rubbing circles onto her back. He felt every tremble, heard the little cries that were muffled against his shoulder, and he answered each one with a little peck to the side of her head. Despite his concerns about the nightmare, he was a little proud...she came to him, even though it was late at night, and she felt comfortable enough to let herself cry. It wasn’t the right time to tell her that he felt honored that she trusted him so much, but that was how he felt, nonetheless.

Eventually, her cries slowed and her grip loosened up, just a bit. She turned her head so she could speak, but refused to pull away even the slightest bit.

“Don’t...please, never leave me,” Peko whispered, voice hoarse.

He hugged her tighter, trying to pull her closer despite the fact that they were as close as they could be, “I won’t. I’ll be here, always.”

“Good,” she murmured, tilting her head up and leaving a soft kiss on his neck.

Fuyuhiko adjusted his hold on her, pulling her up a bit so he could kiss her cheek in response. After a moment longer, she squeezed him tighter before releasing him, and he took that as a cue to let go of her. She sat up again and by his lamp’s dim light, Fuyuhiko saw the redness around her eyes and over her cheeks. He simply rested a hand on her back, giving her time to recover as she refused to look at him once again.

“Thank you,” She said after a moment as she wiped the tears from her eyes, “I...I don’t know if I could have fallen back asleep, without getting to do that.”

“I don’t mind,” he said, voice soft, “You’re my girlfriend...I’m glad I could comfort you like that.”

She looked at him then, and they sat in silence for a moment, just looking into each others eyes. He was thankful, the fear that had been haunting her earlier had dropped away, letting her eyes soften so what he saw looking back at him was the same love he had for her.

“I am feeling a lot better, now,” Peko mirrored Fuyuhiko, putting a hand on his back just as he had done to her, “would it still be alright if I stayed with you the rest of the night?”

“I said it was fine, didn’t I?” He grinned. He’d done it, he helped Peko feel better. Later, he would have to give himself a pat on the back.

Peko laughed the softest little laugh, leaning in to kiss his cheek, “I guess you did.”

“I did,” he repeated, kissing the tip of her nose, “you want to lay down?”

“I would like that,” she agreed, standing up from the bed. The covers were already pulled down, but she waited for Fuyuhiko to get under them before joining.

At first, they just laid next to each other, both on their backs, elbows touching as they looked up at the ceiling. They’d never spent a night together, or laid down in a bed together, so it became increasingly obvious that neither one knew what to do. Eventually, Fuyuhiko turned onto his side, facing Peko.

“And you’re...sure you’re okay with cuddling? I could sleep on the ground, if it would make you more comfortable,” he offered, still nervous that she wouldn’t say no if she was uncomfortable.

His suggestion made her smile and shake her head, turning it to face him, “It’s your room, I am not going to request you sleep on the floor,” she started. She paused for a moment, a slight flush on her cheeks as she continued, “Besides...I would like to have you in my arms, just in case I have another nightmare like that one.”

“Ah,” he hummed, scooting closer to Peko. He sat up enough to lean over her, turning off the lamp, then laid back down right beside her, “I’ll be here, then. Like I said, I’m not leaving you.”

“Thank you,” she murmured, rolling onto her side and wrapping an arm around him.

Fuyuhiko rested his head against her shoulder, his arm over her torso and one leg hooking around one of hers, “Of course.”

Again they fell into silence. Every once in a while, one of them would have to adjust, the arms pinned between their bodies and the mattresses getting uncomfortable. There was a series of quiet ‘Sorry’s when one would have to detangle themselves from the other, until eventually they found a position they were both comfortable in. Peko laid on her back, with Fuyuhiko’s head on her shoulder. The arm closest to Fuyuhiko wrapped around him, just as how one of his arms wrapped around her. Fuyuhiko’s legs wrapped around one of Peko’s, and her free one sprawled out, practically falling off the bed.

The silence was comfortable, as they assumed the other was drifting off to sleep. Neither was particularly ready, though. Both of them wanted to wait and ensure the other fell asleep before letting themselves, so they unknowingly waited together, until Fuyuhiko’s breathing evened out more and Peko assumed he had fallen asleep. She gave him a kiss on the top of the head, not expecting his hum in response.

“Hey, Peko?” He eventually whispered.

“Yes?”

“If you change your mind, it’s okay to want to talk about the nightmares...it’s supposed to help,” he spoke softly, not moving from his position, “I won’t make you, but I’ll listen if you decide you want to.”

Peko remained silent for a moment before responding, “...Thank you.”

“Mhmm,” he mumbled, and then fell quiet again.

Fuyuhiko fell asleep first, but Peko wasn’t far behind him.

[themanwhowasthursdaytrailer]

To celebrate the 1-year anniversary of this project’s debut, I was hoping to share the first draft of a proposed first episode. Sadly, I did not finish it, but I’ve shared what I do have beneath the cut.

FADE IN: EXT. SKY - SUNSET The sunset is flaming and gorgeous, heavy with clouds like the downy wings of flaming seraphim. PAN DOWN TO EXT. SAFFRON PARK - CONTINUOUS The sounds of CONVERSATION and LAUGHTER come up from the disjointed and oddly-constructed little London suburb of SAFFRON PARK. In a garden alight with Chinese paper lanterns, a group of people are standing about, enjoying their garden party. EXT. GARDEN PARTY - CONTINUOUS Somebody says something and there is another burst of LAUGHTER: the speaker has scored a point. CUT TO: GABRIEL SYME, an average-sized man in his late twenties with a blond goatee and an impeccable light blue suit, is standing with a glass of something or other in his hand, mid-debate. SYME: There you go again! What, I ask, is poetical about revolt? You might as well say that vomiting is poetical! The people around him, fashionably silly characters all shapes and sizes, TITTER at the improper imagery. Syme doesn't notice. SYME: Throwing up may be the right thing in certain desperate circumstances, and so is revolt, but I'll be hanged if they're poetical. ROSAMOND GREGORY, a pretty girl with deep red curls, looks a little uncomfortable. Syme doesn't notice. SYME: (Continued) Why, you might as well say that indigestion is poetical! It is things going right, like our digestions, that is poetical! That is the foundation of poetry! Syme's opponent, LUCIAN GREGORY, Syme's age with his sister's hair and a not-nearly-as-pretty face, scoffs as Syme continues. SYME: Yes, the most poetical thing, more poetical than the stars or the flowers or the ocean... the most poetical thing is not having diar- LUCIAN: (Cutting him off) Really! Gabriel, the examples you choose- SYME: (a short mock bow) I beg your pardon. I had forgotten that we had abolished all conventions. Another TITTER from the group and Lucian frowns. LUCIAN: Well you don't expect me to revolutionize all of society here on this lawn? SYME: (Sweetly) No, I don't. But I suppose if you were serious about your anarchy, that is exactly what you would do. Lucian bristles. His voice is dangerously angry. LUCIAN: Don't you think that I am serious about my anarchy? SYME: I beg your pardon? LUCIAN: Am I not serious about my anarchism? SYME: (pleasantly) My dear Lucian! He strolls away and the group returns their attention to Lucian. Rosamond follows Syme, who turns towards her pleasantly surprised. ROSAMOND: Mr. Syme, you and my brother, do you mean what you say? SYME: Mean what we say? Well, there are many kinds of sincerity and insincerity. ROSAMOND: Really? SYME: (proffering an elbow) Miss Gregory, when you say "thank you for the salt," do you mean what you say? No. You say it, but you don't mean it. When you say "the earth is round," it is true, but you don't mean it. Now, when a man like Mr. Gregory finds something that he really does mean, even if it is only a half, quarter, or tenth of a truth he says more than he means from sheer force of meaning it. ROSAMOND: So he is really an anarchist? SYME: In that sense that I speak of, yes. Or rather, that nonsense. ROSAMOND: But he wouldn't throw bombs would he? SYME: (With a hearty laugh) Heavens, no! That sort of thing would have to be done anonymously! Rosamond laughs with him, and they wander off to a nearby bench, still talking. MONTAGE - Time passes The sunset fades, people come and go, one by one the lanterns are extinguished as Rosamond and Syme continue talking on the bench. EXT. GARDEN PARTY - NIGHT Syme looks up and sees how late it's gotten. He jumps to his feet. SYME: I'm so sorry, I completely lost track... I really have to get going, Miss Gregory, thank you for a most pleasant... Fumbling, he picks up a walking stick, puts on an overcoat and top hat, and leaves Rosamond alone in the garden. EXT. SAFFRON PARK - NIGHT Walking down the suburban street, Syme slows as he sees something. Standing between a lamppost and a tree, an arresting figure stands, head bowed, walking stick in one hand, face thrown into deep shadow by the brim of his top hat. As Syme approaches, the figure lifts his head dramatically, and the lamplight reveals Lucian's face. Syme walks to an appropriate conversational distance. Lucian gives a sort of sword-salute with his stick. Syme does the same, more confidently. LUCIAN: I was waiting for you. (a beat) Might I have a moment's conversation? SYME: Certainly. About what? LUCIAN: (striking the lamp and tree with his stick in turn) About this and this! About order and anarchy! Your precious order, that lean, barren, ugly iron lamp, and that tree, anarchy, rich, living, reproducing itself, splendid in green and gold. SYME: Nonetheless, just as present you only see the tree by the light of the lamp. I wonder when we can see the lamp by the light of the tree. But did you wait out here just so we could resume our little argument? LUCIAN: No! Not to resume it, but to end it forever. (another beat) Mr. Syme, you have succeeded in doing something that no other man born of woman has succeeded in doing before. SYME: Oh? LUCIAN: (reflectively) Now I remember. There was one other man who succeeded. The captain of a penny-steamer, at Southend, if I recall correctly. You have irritated me. SYME: I am very sorry. LUCIAN: (a dismissive hand wave) I am afraid your insult and my fury are too shocking to be wiped out even with an apology, or duel, or even death. No, there is only one way by which that insult can be erased. I am, at possible risk of my life and honor, to prove you wrong in what you said. SYME: In what I said? LUCIAN: You said I was not serious about being an anarchist. SYME: There are degrees of seriousness. I have never once doubted that you are sincere in that you thought what you said well worth saying, that a paradox might make men wake up to a neglected truth- LUCIAN: (striking the ground with his stick) And in no other sense you thought me serious? You thought me a flaneur who lets fall occasional truths? You do not think that in a deeper, more deadly sense, I am serious? SYME: Serious? Good heavens, is the whole caboodle serious? We come here and talk a load of bosh, but I should think very little of a man if he did not keep something more serious than all this talking in the back of his life. LUCIAN: Very well. I shall show you something more serious. (He pauses for a moment, regaining his composure) But first, I must ask you, by whatever gods or saints or powers your religion might involve, by the universe itself, even, I must ask you to make me an oath. SYME: An oath? LUCIAN: Yes. A vow you should never make, a knowledge you should never dream about, you must swear to me that you will not reveal what I am about to show to you to any son of Adam, and especially not to the police. If you make that oath I will promise you in return... He trails off and Syme, intrigued, prompts him. SYME: You will promise me in return...? LUCIAN: A very entertaining evening. SYME: (strikes his stick on the ground) My good man, your offer is far too insane to refuse. I accept. Permit me to swear before God, as a Christian, a man, and a good comrade and a fellow artist, that, whatever it may be, no matter the consequence, for better or for worse, I will not reveal your secret to the police. And now, in the name of bedlam, what is it? LUCIAN: I think we shall call a cab. He does: a hansom cab. They get in. FADE TO: INT. DINGY LITTLE RESTAURANT Syme and Lucian are seated at a round, worn table in a smoky atmosphere. Syme is enjoying the last of his meal while Lucian watches indulgently. SYME: I hope you don't mind my enjoying myself rather obviously. I don't often have the luck to have a dream like this. I am quite used to lobster leading to a nightmare, but this is the first time I have experienced it the other way. LUCIAN: I assure you that you are not asleep. On the contrary, you are close to the most actual and rousing moment of your existence. (a pause) If the table begins to turn round a little, do not concern yourself. SYME: Of course not. LUCIAN: (apologetically) You must not mind the, shall we say, unassuming? exterior of this little restaurant. I must admit it is not in accord with the excellent potables of the establishment, but then that is just our modesty. As he speaks, the table begins to rotate. Slowly at first, then faster. Neither Lucian nor Syme react in the slightest. SYME: 'Our' modesty? LUCIAN: Yes: the modesty of the serious anarchists, the ones you do not think exist. The ones you are about to meet. The table drops straight down, like a broken elevator. It slams to a stop at the bottom of a dimly lit shaft. The unflappable Syme dabs at his mustache politely with a napkin as Lucian stands up and elegantly gestures down a hallway. They walk down it in silence. Lucian approaches the door, heavily armored, at the end of the hallway. He knocks six times, in a one-two rhythm. Gears grind and clockwork ticks. A small speaker is revealed and Lucian speaks into it. LUCIAN: Mister Joseph Chamberlain. It is an acceptable code. The machinery whirs and clicks and the door creaks open. Lucian gestures for Syme to go ahead of him. LUCIAN: (CONT'D) Do excuse all of the formalities. We have to be rather strict. SYME: Oh, don't apologize. I know your passion for law and order. The door closes on its own, and the same hidden machinery locks it behind them. The interior is an auditorium-type room, stairs leading down past several rows of seats to an open area at the bottom, at which are some chairs and a couple of tables. The walls glint against the lights that flicker on upon Lucian and Syme's entry. They are packed solid with rows on rows of guns, bombs, grenades, all style of (era appropriate) weapons. Syme takes the room in as he follows behind Lucian, who almost skips down the stairs to the bottom of the room. Pulling out a chair for himself and one for his guest, Lucian sits down and leans back with an expansive air. He grins at Syme like the cat who swallowed the canary. Syme sits down with an unchanged air of polite interest. LUCIAN: And now, my dear Mr. Syme, now we are quite cosy, so let us talk properly. I can give you no conception of why I brought you hear-–it was quite an arbitrary emotion, like jumping off of a cliff or falling into love. It is enough to say that you were, and in all fairness still are, an inexpressibly irritating fellow. Syme inclines his head at the compliment. LUCIAN: (CONT'D) That way you have would make a priest break the seal of confession, just for the pleasure of taking you down a peg. Well, you said that I was not a serious anarchist. Allow me to ask, does this place strike you as serious? SYME: It does seem to have a moral beneath all its gaiety. He leans forward in a friendly, conversational manner. SYME: But may I ask you two questions? You may remember that you exacted a vow of secrecy from me, which I intend to keep, so you need not fear to answer.I ask only for the satisfaction of my own curiosity. Lucian nods his permission and waves a gracious hand. SYME: (CONT'D) First of all, what is it all about? What is your goal? You want to abolish government? LUCIAN: To abolish God! We do not merely wish to upset a few despots and police regulations-–that type of anarchism does exist, but we, we dig deeper and blow you higher. We deny all those arbitrary distinctions of vice and virtue, honor and treachery, which the mere rebels use, that silly talk of the Rights of Man. We hate Rights as we hate Wrongs, and we have abolished Right and Wrong! SYME: (eagerly) And Right and Left, may we abolish those too? They are much more troublesome to me. LUCIAN: Your second question? SYME: Of course. The general atmosphere of this place, if you will permit me to say it, is rather more impressive than homelike. You barricade yourself beneath the bowels of a public house, you line your walls with weapons, you submit yourself to the indignity of calling yourself "Mr. Chamberlain,"... why, then after all this, do you go about parading your secret to all the silly people in Saffron Park? LUCIAN: (grins) The answer to that is quite simple. I told you I was a serious anarchist. You did not believe me. Nor do they believe me. Unless I brought them into this very room, they would not believe me. The history of the thing might amuse you. FADE TO: INT. FANCY DRAWING-ROOM - DAY Lucian is disguised as a Church of England bishop, entering the room full of respectable wealthy and/or religious people. LUCIAN: (V.O.) When first I became one of the New Anarchists, I tried all kinds of respectable disguises. I dressed up as a bishop.

[ask-meme-addicts]

"The Picture of Dorian Gray" sentence starters

❝ There is only one thing in the world worse than being talked about, and that is not being talked about. ❞

❝ The ugly and the stupid have the best of it in this world. ❞

❝ We shall all suffer for what the gods have given us, suffer terribly. ❞

❝ I have grown to love secrecy. ❞

❝ Your cynicism is simply a pose. ❞

❝ You know we poor artists have to show ourselves in society from time to time, just to remind the public that we are not savages. ❞

❝ Conscience and cowardice are really the same things. ❞

❝ I choose my friends for their good looks, my acquaintances for their good characters, and my enemies for their good intellects. ❞

❝ A man cannot be too careful in the choice of his enemies. ❞

❝ Is that very vain of me? I think it is rather vain. ❞

❝ None of us can stand other people having the same faults as ourselves. ❞

❝ I like persons better than principles, and I like persons with no principles better than anything else in the world. ❞

❝ There is nothing that art cannot express. ❞

❝ The harmony of soul and body—how much that is! We in our madness have separated the two, and have invented a realism that is vulgar, an ideality that is void. ❞

❝ My heart shall never be put under their microscope. ❞

❝ It is only the intellectually lost who ever argue. ❞

❝ I feel that I have given away my whole soul to someone who treats it as if it were a flower to put in his coat, a bit of decoration to charm his vanity, an ornament for a summer’s day.” ❞

❝ In the wild struggle for existence, we want to have something that endures, and so we fill our minds with rubbish and facts, in the silly hope of keeping our place. ❞

❝ Those who are faithful know only the trivial side of love: it is the faithless who know love’s tragedies. ❞

❝ People are afraid of themselves, nowadays. ❞

❝ Courage has gone out of our race. Perhaps we never really had it. ❞

❝ Every impulse that we strive to strangle broods in the mind and poisons us. ❞

❝ The only way to get rid of a temptation is to yield to it. ❞

❝ Nothing can cure the soul but the senses, just as nothing can cure the senses but the soul. ❞

❝ You know more than you think you know, just as you know less than you want to know. ❞

❝ Wherever you go, you charm the world. Will it always be so? ❞

❝ Time is jealous of you, and wars against your lilies and your roses. ❞

❝ Our limbs fail, our senses rot. We degenerate into hideous puppets, haunted by the memory of the passions of which we were too much afraid, and the exquisite temptations that we had not the courage to yield to. ❞

❝ You like your art better than your friends. ❞

❝ I am jealous of everything whose beauty does not die. ❞

❝ Young people, nowadays, imagine that money is everything. ❞

❝ Credit is the capital of a younger son, and one lives charmingly upon it. ❞

❝ Behind every exquisite thing that existed, there was something tragic. ❞

❝ The way of paradoxes is the way of truth. ❞

❝ I can sympathize with everything except suffering. ❞

❝ Humanity takes itself too seriously. It is the world’s original sin. If the caveman had known how to laugh, history would have been different. ❞

❝ Nowadays most people die of a sort of creeping common sense, and discover when it is too late that the only things one never regrets are one’s mistakes. ❞

❝ You are quite delightful and dreadfully demoralizing. ❞

❝ I am always late on principle, the principle being that punctuality is the thief of time. ❞

❝ I adore it, but I am afraid of it. It makes me too romantic. ❞

❝ Nowadays people know the price of everything and the value of nothing. ❞

❝ Passion is the privilege of people who have nothing to do. ❞

❝ If I ever did a crime, I would come and confess it to you. You would understand me. ❞

❝ When one is in love, one always begins by deceiving one’s self, and one always ends by deceiving others. That is what the world calls a romance. ❞

❝ There is always something infinitely mean about other people’s tragedies. ❞

❝ I want to make Romeo jealous. I want the dead lovers of the world to hear our laughter and grow sad. I want a breath of our passion to stir their dust into consciousness, to wake their ashes into pain. ❞

❝ People are very fond of giving away what they need most themselves. It is what I call the depth of generosity. ❞

❝ The only artists I have ever known who are personally delightful are bad artists. ❞

❝ It often happens that when we think we were experimenting on others we are really experimenting on ourselves. ❞

❝ Children begin by loving their parents; as they grow older they judge them; sometimes they forgive them. ❞

❝ To be in love is to surpass one’s self. ❞

❝ Poor? What does that matter? When poverty creeps in at the door, love flies in through the window. ❞

❝ Our proverbs want rewriting. They were made in winter, and it is summer now; springtime for me, I think, a very dance of blossoms in blue skies. ❞

❝ I shudder at the thought of being free. ❞

❝ I know you would never harm anyone I love, would you? ❞

❝ Whenever a man does a thoroughly stupid thing, it is always from the noblest motives. ❞

❝ Of course, it is sudden—all really delightful things are. ❞

❝ The reason we all like to think so well of others is that we are all afraid for ourselves. The basis of optimism is sheer terror. ❞

❝ Unselfish people are colourless. They lack individuality. ❞

❝ You are much better than you pretend to be. ❞

❝ I cannot understand how anyone can wish to shame the thing he loves. ❞

❝ When we are happy, we are always good, but when we are good, we are not always happy. ❞

❝ The real tragedy of the poor is that they can afford nothing but self-denial. Beautiful sins, like beautiful things, are the privilege of the rich. ❞

❝ Being adored is a nuisance. ❞

❝ You are dreadful! I don’t know why I like you so much. ❞

❝ You will always be fond of me. I represent to you all the sins you have never had the courage to commit. ❞

❝ Love is a more wonderful thing than art. ❞

❝ There are only two kinds of people who are really fascinating—people who know absolutely everything, and people who know absolutely nothing. ❞

❝ The secret of remaining young is never to have an emotion that is unbecoming. ❞

❝ I knew nothing but shadows, and I thought them real. ❞

❝ You taught me what reality really is. ❞

❝ You used to stir my imagination. Now you don’t even stir my curiosity. ❞

❝ I have grown sick of shadows. ❞

❝ You don’t know what you were to me, once. ❞

❝ You have spoiled the romance of my life. ❞

❝ Without your art, you are nothing. ❞

❝ There is always something ridiculous about the emotions of people whom one has ceased to love. ❞

❝ There is a luxury in self-reproach. When we blame ourselves, we feel that no one else has a right to blame us. ❞

❝ I can’t bear the idea of my soul being hideous. ❞

❝ You cut life to pieces with your epigrams. ❞

❝ Things like that make a man fashionable in Paris. But in London people are so prejudiced. ❞

❝ One should never make one’s début with a scandal. One should reserve that to give an interest to one’s old age. ❞

❝ How extraordinarily dramatic life is! ❞

❝ I don’t think I am heartless. Do you? ❞

❝ The moment she touched actual life, she marred it, and it marred her. ❞

❝ Life has everything in store for you, ❞

❝ We live in an age that reads too much to be wise, and that thinks too much to be beautiful. ❞

❝ If one doesn’t talk about a thing, it has never happened. It is simply expression that gives reality to things. ❞

❝ You must not tell me about things. What is done is done. What is past is past. ❞

❝ I don’t want to be at the mercy of my emotions. I want to use them, to enjoy them, and to dominate them. ❞

❝ You talk as if you had no heart, no pity in you. ❞

❝ if I told you, you might like me less than you do, and you would certainly laugh at me. I could not bear your doing either of those two things. ❞

❝ Your friendship is dearer to me than any fame or reputation. ❞

❝ You became to me the visible incarnation of that unseen ideal whose memory haunts us artists like an exquisite dream. ❞

❝ Whatever I have done that is good, I owe to you. ❞

❝ There is something fatal about a portrait. It has a life of its own. ❞

❝ Perhaps one should never put one’s worship into words. ❞

❝ There seems to be something tragic in a friendship so colored by romance. ❞

❝ It has a corruption of its own, worse than the corruption of death itself—something that would breed horrors and yet would never die. ❞

❝ The past can always be annihilated. ❞

❝ How exquisite life had once been! How gorgeous in its pomp and decoration! Even to read of the luxury of the dead was wonderful. ❞

❝ Is insincerity such a terrible thing? I think not. It is merely a method by which we can multiply our personalities. ❞

❝ I am tired of myself tonight. I should like to be somebody else. ❞

❝ I love scandals about other people, but scandals about myself don’t interest me. They have not got the charm of novelty. ❞

❝ You don’t want people to talk of you as something vile and degraded. ❞

❝ You must not say things like that. They are horrible, and they don’t mean anything. ❞

❝ You have had more to do with my life than you think. ❞

❝ Each of us has heaven and hell in him. ❞

❝ Youth smiles without any reason. It is one of its chiefest charms. ❞

❝ Keep your horrible secrets to yourself. They don’t interest me any more. ❞

❝ What is it to me what devil’s work you are up to? ❞

❝ I wish you had a thousandth part of the pity for me that I have for you. ❞

❝ The husbands of very beautiful women belong to the criminal classes. ❞

❝ I am not at all surprised that the world says that you are extremely wicked. ❞

❝ It is perfectly monstrous, the way people go about nowadays saying things against one behind one’s back that are absolutely and entirely true. ❞

❝ Nowadays all the married men live like bachelors, and all the bachelors like married men. ❞

❝ Everybody I know says you are very wicked. ❞

❝ I like men who have a future and women who have a past. ❞

❝ Moderation is a fatal thing. Enough is as bad as a meal. More than enough is as good as a feast. ❞

❝ He atones for being occasionally somewhat overdressed by being always absolutely overeducated. He is a very modern type. ❞

❝ What do you want? Money? Here it is. Don’t ever talk to me again. ❞

❝ Each man lives his own life and pays his own price for living it. ❞

❝ The man who could call a spade a spade should be compelled to use one. It is the only thing he is fit for. ❞

❝ I think that it is better to be beautiful than to be good. But on the other hand, no one is more ready than I am to acknowledge that it is better to be good than to be ugly. ❞

❝ To be popular one must be a mediocrity. ❞

❝ We can have in life but one great experience at best, and the secret of life is to reproduce that experience as often as possible. ❞

❝ I wish I could love, but I seem to have lost the passion and forgotten the desire. ❞

❝ My own personality has become a burden to me. ❞

❝ Death is the only thing that ever terrifies me. ❞

❝ The world has always worshipped you. It always will worship you. ❞

❝ Life has been your art. You have set yourself to music. Your days are your sonnets. ❞

❝ The books that the world calls immoral are books that show the world its own shame. That is all. ❞

❝ The world is changed because you are made of ivory and gold. The curves of your lips rewrite history. ❞

[tsthrowback]

There I was again tonight Forcing laughter, faking smiles Same old tired lonely place

Walls of insincerity, Shifting eyes and vacancy Vanished when I saw your face

All I can say is it was enchanting to meet you

This is one of my favorite Taylor songs, it’s melodic, magical, romantic: Everything Taylor has mastered. She immediately sets the scene, luring the listener into her atmosphere as she addresses her subject directly. But she bounces back and forth between present and past tense, indicating she’s providing her internal dialogue as the moment develops as well as her feelings after the fact. Not only does this highlight the importance of the event, but also provides a fuller look from the singer’s different perspectives.

We can all recognize this hopeless romantic nostalgia, right? I can’t count how many times I’ve exchanged glances with an attractive stranger and built an entire fantasy around them in my mind. I imagine an entire love affair, totally baseless and complete fantasy. This isn’t exactly healthy, but whatever -- it’s a natural imaginative instinct.

In the beginning of a flirtationship, the early stages of getting to know someone, is a very exciting time. Anything is possible because nothing is defined or nailed down yet; All you know is a cute person and you get to let your mind run wild with possibilities when it comes to everything else about them! Everything is light and hopeful as you ponder, ‘What do they do? What do they care about? Could they care about me?’

Your eyes whispered, "Have we met?" Across the room your silhouette Starts to make its way to me The playful conversation starts Counter all your quick remarks Like passing notes in secrecy And it was enchanting to meet you All I can say is I was enchanted to meet you

I love that she uses the word ‘playful’ because that really captures the feeling of new flirty banter. Testing the waters, feeling out a connection. Do they have a similar sense of humor? Are they charming and quick-witted? ‘Playful’ connotes youth and innocence, like young love. Maybe love should be able to be playful more than anything. I had someone once say that it felt like our two inner children were speaking and that with different people at varying levels of connection it can feel like sometimes we’re putting up a front and sometimes it feels like our truest young, innocent selves are shining through and connecting with someone else’s truest young, innocent self. She’s finding that they seem to have an immediate sense of connection. This can be an amazing, inexplicable thing when it feels like some outside force is drawing you towards someone else and that has to mean something! Right?

It can be just as amazingly heartbreaking when it turns out that sometimes that feeling doesn’t actually mean anything more at all.

It’s inexplicable, it’s hopeful and painful, and it’s real. Taylor Swift narrates the ranging complexities of the human experience in exploring love AGAIN

This night is sparkling, don't you let it go I'm wonderstruck, blushing all the way home I'll spend forever wondering if you knew I was enchanted to meet you The lingering question kept me up 2 AM, who do you love? I wonder 'til I'm wide awake And now I'm pacing back and forth Wishing you were at my door I'd open up and you would say, "Hey, It was enchanting to meet you, All I know is I was enchanted to meet you."

Enchanting is the most imperative word in this song, also meaning irresistible, captivating, bewitching. The roots of this word can be traced to references to enchantresses, sorcerers, and the act of casting incantations upon someone and charming them. Taylor was so intrigued by this man that she feels as though she’s been spellbound, cursed with insomnia and anxieties considering his life without her and when she may see him again.

The journey through this process is weaved through the song from start to finish so well. She’s hanging onto the small connection they had, desperately wishing for more. It’s beautiful and reminiscent, still hopeful for a future opportunity to explore this connection again.

This night is sparkling, don't you let it go I'm wonderstruck, blushing all the way home I'll spend forever wondering if you knew This night is flawless, don't you let it go I'm wonderstruck, dancing around all alone I'll spend forever wondering if you knew I was enchanted to meet you This is me praying that This was the very first page Not where the story line ends My thoughts will echo your name Until I see you again These are the words I held back As I was leaving too soon I was enchanted to meet you Please don't be in love with someone else Please don't have somebody waiting on you Please don't be in love with someone else Please don't have somebody waiting on you

THIS IS SO REAL, Y’ALL AM I RIGHT!? Who hasn’t had this exact same late-night prayer circle? All wishing and hoping for possibilities ends at the moment we learn too much personal information that makes everything real. They have a partner, they’re not available, they have too much emotional baggage, etc. But for now, Taylor doesn’t know any of that. All she knows is she had an enchanting evening and that’s enough.

This night is sparkling, don't you let it go I'm wonderstruck, blushing all the way home I'll spend forever wondering if you knew This night is flawless, don't you let it go I'm wonderstruck, dancing around all alone I'll spend forever wondering if you knew I was enchanted to meet you Please don't be in love with someone else Please don't have somebody waiting on you

It’s perfect that even with this song, the ending is open ended and the relationship never goes anywhere or amounts to anything. Because, like most fantasies, the real version of something or someone will never match up to an imagined, idealized version of them. Falling in love with every attractive stranger that you can imagine a connection with is just unrealistic, unfortunately. It’s fun to daydream up a fake love with a real person, but at the end of the day you can’t force anything and sometimes a look is just a look and not the start of a passionate love affair.

But damn, if that journey of imagination and emotion doesn’t make for a fantastic song about the thrill of even the possibility of a passionate love affair. It may not ever develop into anything more, but that pure energy and emotion, even if fleeting, is worth celebrating.

[jack-aa-boy]

Hacked - Chapter 3

        Speaking of someone to fix it, I grabbed my cellphone. It was still hot to the touch, but I could open it. With everything reset I no longer had pictures or phone contacts, which made things difficult. So I did the next best thing, and I called IT support for myself. Seems a little embarrassing, I’ll admit, but no one really had to know.

       “Hello, and thank you for calling tech support! This is Amy, how may I-”

       “Amy, it’s ______,” I said quickly. “Sorry to cut you off, but can you patch me to Jack if he’s still there. I’m having some phone problems and I’ve lost all my contacts.”

       “Well, I’m not supposed to take requests…” she said, but I could hear the smile in her voice. “But for you, I will! Hold please!”

       I smiled. I owed Amy for this. She was always helpful around the office, and a good employee. With her chipper demeanor I thought she’d make a cute couple with Jack, but she made it clear she only had eyes for a dark headed guy that I’d only glimpsed in passing. I hadn’t seen much of him, but I didn’t need to; he was definitely cute.

       “Thanks for calling tech support, this is Jack speaking. How may I assist you?” he quipped into the phone.

       “Yeah, I have this really loud guy in the cubicle next to mine,” I said, unable to keep from joking with him. “Maybe you know him? Green hair, Irish accent, doofy grin on his face all the time.”

       “Oh, is he blue eyed, handsome, and great at origami?” Jack said, playing along.

       “Well, at least two out of three of those things, yes,” I grinned, almost forgetting why I called in the first place.

       Jack hummed. “Never heard of him,” he stayed, then immediately laughed. “What on earth are you calling here so late for?”

       “Believe it or not, I’m having some technical difficulties on multiple devices,” I said honestly. “I need some help. Like, the in person kind of help.”

       “Little late to be asking me over,” he said, and I couldn’t place the tone in his voice.

       “Not tonight, Jack. Just sometime soon when you have the chance. I know you work weekends there too, so…” I trailed off.

       “Well if it truly is work related then I can come over on work time and fix it, yeah?” he offered. There was no question now. He’d be here tomorrow.

       “Yeah if you don’t mind,” I said, trying not to smile. “But listen, whatever it is going on…it’s not a normal thing. You know I’m not incompetent, but I haven’t seen this before.”

       I was actually a little worried about it honestly. I immediately thought better of what I said, in case I worried Jack as well, and added in:

       “So don’t go starting rumors that I came to you for tech support,” I said trying to sound faux threatening.

       “Me? Do something like that? I would never,” he said dramatically. He was trying to be funny, I knew, but he was also telling the truth. He really wouldn’t do that.

       “Sure, sure. I guess I’ll let you get back to work,” I said, knowing I couldn’t stay on the line for too long. “Just text me when you’re coming over tomorrow, okay?”

       “Actually, I’ll probably just call it a night. I doubt any of my other calls will be as fun so better end on a high note,” he said, and I could hear him shuffling things on his desk, gathering them. “And yeah, I’ll let you know.” There was a brief pause. “Goodnight, _____.”

       I felt my heart pick up a little. “Goodnight, Jack,” I said, hanging up the phone.

       I sighed a little, getting up and going to the bathroom. I looked in the mirror at my rising blush, and turned on the faucet, splashing cold water on my face. That  phone call certainly hadn’t helped my ever growing crush on Jack.

       I couldn’t help it, but no matter how I tried to get over it Jack drew me back in. It wasn’t his fault, he was just being himself after all. I mean, for all I knew he could already have a girlfriend or boyfriend or somebody. Truth be told, I didn’t know much of Jack’s personal life. There was probably more about him that I’d never know than what I did know now, despite being his work friend for sometime.

       I sighed and decided to take a shower to relax myself. Once that was done, I changed into some more comfortable clothes and went to bed. I moved my laptop to my bedside table to forget about it for a little while.

       I woke up the next morning to a sound coming from outside. It took me a few moments to realize the sound was knocking on my front door. I sat upright quickly, and blindly felt around for my phone. I had several from what I assume was Jack’s number.

                898-555-0207 - 8:03 am

Hey man, thought I’d come before I went to work so you wouldn’t have to pay though high rates and shit. Does 9:00 work?

              898-555-0207 - 8:47 am

I’m heading over. Fingers crossed I remember your address!

             898-555-0207 - 9:02 am

I’m at your door…at least I hope it’s yours…

             898-555-0207 - 9:04 am

I’m gonna start knocking so I pray this is your place

             898-555-0207 9:06 am

_____? If this is your place and you’re not answering…

            898-555-0207 - 9:07 am

I hope you’re alright.

       I jumped unceremoniously from my bed, pulling half of the sheets off as I did so. I ran to the door and flung it open.

       Jack, who was standing with his phone in his hands (no doubt typing another message to me), jumped at the sudden movement. He seemed a little astonished, and I quickly remembered I was still in my pajamas. We stared at each other for what felt like an eternity. I considered shutting the door and going to hide in shame in my bedroom.

       Jack cracked a grin. “Bad time?” he asked, pocketing his cellphone.

       “No, I just…didn’t set my alarm last night,” I stammered. “Sorry, I know I look like a wreck, but…you can come in, if you want…”

       He chuckled slightly, but walked inside, looking around my living room. I suddenly felt self conscious about my home, and wondered what kind of place he lived in.

       “I’ll be right back!” I said, excusing myself to my room and shutting the door behind me.

       I have never felt so embarrassed in my life. Jack must be thinking that I’m a lunatic. I put my head in my hands for a moment and pulled myself together.

       A few minutes later, I emerged from my room with proper clothes on and my laptop in the bend of my arm. Jack was still standing in the middle of the living room with a bag over his shoulder.

       “You could have sat down,” I said, putting my computer down on my coffee table and then sitting on the couch.

       “I didn’t want to be rude,” he said with a shrug, then joined me on the couch.

       “I thought maybe you had just forgotten how to sit,” I said, playfully jabbing him. I wanted to get rid of the awkward feelings from before.

        “Need I remind you that you work for IT support yet you need help fixing your own computer?” he said back, reaching for it.

        “I told you, this isn’t really a normal problem,” I said, leaning over him to put in my password. My screen came up with the background in binary code, though it seemed to have changed. The note from the night before was gone. I realized that things probably didn’t look too strange to Jack since he wasn’t familiar with my laptop.

        “I think someone hacked it,” I started to explain. “My screen glitched out and when if finally rebooted, all my stuff was gone. No photos, music, browsers, or anything.”

       His eyebrows went together. “A hacker, huh?” he murmured to himself. “Why would someone try to hack you?”

       I shrug, not about to tell Jack that I hacked part time. “Beats me.”

I handed the laptop over to Jack, letting him look at it closely. He hummed a little bit as I watched him work, hoping that it wouldn’t distract him. He reached into a small bag he had brought with him, and pulled out a couple of small tools. Carefully, he took off the casing of the computer, exposing the inner workings. His blue eyes went over the wiring and chips and hardware, looking for any signs of damage.

I was about to ask a question when Jack reached his hand out and touched a piece of wiring, moving it around slightly. He seemed just as confused as I was, and he put his other hand on the computer, leaning in to get a closer look.

Suddenly Jack went rigid, eyes wide and afraid. His hands touching the computer were shaking and I could see faint sparks coming from there. Before I could even move, Jack slumped over, completely limp. His eyes were glazed over, dull and void of light.

My chest tightened in panic and I reached over to touch Jack’s arm, trying to shake him awake. He didn’t move. My heart pounded in my chest, and I yelled his name but my voice sounded distant to my own ears. I stood up too fast, the room spinning around me but I couldn’t waste any time. I stumbled my way to my bedroom, feeling like I was in slow motion. I tore the room apart until I found my cell phone. My shaking fingers unlocked it, and I started to dial the emergency number.

I turned to go check on Jack, tears building up in the corner of my eyes. I didn’t even look up as I moved, and immediately smacked into something. I stumbled backwards, dropping my phone. I let out a noise of pity mixed with frustrations, and dropped to my knees to grab the phone.

  “That isn’t necessary, _____” a voice above me said. “I’m okay.”

        I looked up slowly, tears sliding down my cheeks and obstructing my vision. The person crouched in front of me and wiped them away. A little jolt prickled my skin where there’s contact.

        In front of me is Jack…but it’s not at the same time. It’s his appearance, same body and face and clothes. But it stops there. Gone are the bright blue eyes, replaced with black completely. His smile isn’t charming and warm, but instead feels unsettling and insincere. His entire being is surrounded with something I can only liken to static, and parts of him would disappear only to reappear a few inches away.

        I scrambled away from him until I hit my bed. Whoever this person is, it isn’t my friend. I don’t find the strength to stand, but he does. He took a few steps forward, his body towering over me. The look on his face proved he was having a good time.

        “Come now, don’t be so shy,” he said, reaching out a hand to me. “It’s just me.”

        I ignore his offered hand, not about to trust him for a second. “You’re not Jack,” I said after finding my voice. It still sounded weak and unsteady.

        He laughed, and I recognized it. From my computer. From my phone. He was there. My eyes went wide with confusion and fear, which only seemed to delight him.

        “Of course I’m not Jack,” he said like it was obvious, spitting out my friend’s name like it was poison. His voice wavered a little, but not like he was afraid. But the pitch would range from high to low easily, like he had no control over it.

        I swallowed hard. “Then who are you?”

       The being grinned so wide and proud that it must have hurt to do. For a moment he stood there, and then he was gone the next. My heart stuttered in my chest, wondering where he could have gone. I stood up shakily, walking around the room. There was no sign of him anywhere.

       I sat down on the bed and put my head in my hands. I can’t decided if I’m delusional or not. Part of me is afraid to go to the living room and see if Jack is still there. I don’t know if I’m more worried that he is or isn’t.

       I finally lift my head up, gaining the strength and courage to walk down the hall and look. But I don’t make it off the bed. Behind my right ear came a whisper, so gentle that I could have believed I dreamed it if it weren’t for feeling the breath on my neck.

        “I’m Aǹt͠͏i̷̛͘.”

[angelicabetineli]

How to reconstruct Trust once a Betrayal

Trust is an important element of a powerful relationship, however it willn’t happen quickly. And once it’s broken, it’s onerous to rebuild. When you're thinking that concerning circumstances that would lead you to lose trust in your partner, quality could come back to mind right away. however cheating isn’t the sole thanks to break trust in a very relationship. Other potentialities include: a pattern of going back on your word or breaking promises not being there for your partner in a time of need withholding, or keeping one thing back lying or manipulation a pattern of not sharing feelings openly What does trust very mean? Before going over the way to reconstruct trust, it’s necessary to grasp what trust is, exactly. To start, it would be useful to think about trust as a alternative that somebody should create. You can’t make someone trust you. you would possibly not like better to trust someone till they show that they’re ought to have it.

It’s additionally important to understand what trust isn’t.

In a relationship, for example, trust doesn’t essentially mean you tell your partner each single factor that crosses your mind. It’s all traditional to have personal thoughts you retain to yourself. Trust also doesn’t mean giving one another access to: bank accounts (unless it’s a shared one) personal computers cell phones social media accounts You might not mind sharing this information, particularly just in case of AN emergency. however the presence of trust in a very relationship usually means that you don’t have to be compelled to check au fait your partner. you've got religion in them and feel ready to point out any considerations you would possibly have. Rebuilding trust once you’ve been betrayed Having somebody break your trust will leave you feeling hurt, shocked, and even physically sick. it would prompt you to contemplate your relationship — and your partner — in a completely different way. If you wish to try to reconstruct trust, here are some smart starting points. Consider the rationale behind the lie or betrayal When you’ve been song to, you would possibly not care a lot of about the explanations behind it. But folks do generally lie once they merely don’t recognize what else to do. This doesn’t create their alternative right, however it will facilitate to contemplate however you might have reacted in their position. Sure, your partner may have betrayed you to guard themselves, but they'll have had a special motive. Were they making an attempt to protect you from bad news? create the simplest of a foul cash situation? facilitate a family member? Maybe the betrayal of trust resulted from a miscommunication or misunderstanding. Whatever happened, it’s necessary to create it clear that what they did wasn’t OK. however knowing the explanations behind their actions could assist you decide whether or not you’re ready to begin reconstruction the trust you once shared.

Communicate, communicate, communicate

It is probably painful or uncomfortable, however one in all the most important components of rebuilding agree with after betrayal is speaking to you accomplice approximately the situation. Set apart a while to virtually inform them: the way you experience approximately the situation why the betrayal of agree with harm you what you want from them to begin rebuilding agree with Give them a hazard to talk, however be aware of their sincerity. Do they express regret and appear sincerely regretful? Or are they protective and unwilling to very own as much as their betrayal? You might also additionally experience emotional or dissatisfied throughout this conversation. These emotions are absolutely valid. If you experience your self getting too dissatisfied to maintain speaking in a effective manner, take a wreck and are available returned to the subject later.

Practice forgiveness

If you need to restore a dating after a betrayal, forgiveness is key. Not handiest will you want to forgive your accomplice, however you furthermore mght might also additionally want to forgive your self. Blaming your self in a few manner for what passed off can preserve you caught in self-doubt. That can harm the probabilities of your dating’s recovery. Depending at the betrayal, it is probably tough to forgive your accomplice and pass forward. But attempt to don't forget that forgiving your accomplice isn’t announcing that what they did changed into OK. Rather, you’re empowering your self to return back to phrases with what passed off and depart it withinside the past. You’re additionally giving your accomplice a hazard to study and develop from their mistakes.

Avoid living at the past

Once you’ve completely mentioned the betrayal, it’s typically exceptional to position the difficulty to bed. This approach you don’t need to carry it up in destiny arguments. You’ll additionally need to move smooth on continuously checking in in your accomplice to make certain they aren’t mendacity to you again. This isn’t constantly smooth, particularly at first. You would possibly have a tough time letting cross of the betrayal and discover it hard to begin trusting your accomplice, particularly if you’re involved approximately every other betrayal. But while making a decision to offer the connection a 2d hazard, you’re additionally figuring out to agree with your accomplice again. Maybe you can’t absolutely agree with them proper away, however you’re implying you’ll provide agree with a hazard to regrow. If you can’t preserve considering what passed off or have misgivings approximately your accomplice’s destiny honesty or faithfulness, couples counseling can help. But those symptoms and symptoms can also imply you can now no longer be equipped to paintings on the connection.

Rebuilding consider while you’ve harm someone

You messed up. Maybe you lied and harm your companion or withheld records you idea might harm them. No count your reasons, you already know you precipitated them ache, and also you experience terrible. You can also additionally experience like you’d do something to reveal them they could consider you once more. First, it’s essential to recognize that the damaged consider can be past restore. But in case you each wont to paintings on repairing the connection, there are some useful steps you may take. Consider why you probably did it Before you embark at the procedure of rebuilding consider, you’ll first need to test in with your self to recognize why you probably did it. Is it feasible which you desired to cease the connection however didn’t realize how to? Or have been there unique wishes that weren’t being met via way of means of your companion? Or changed into it only a dumb mistake? Understanding the reasons in the back of your conduct may be difficult, however it’s a vital a part of rebuilding consider.

Apologize sincerely

If you lied, cheated, or in any other case broken your companion’s religion in you, a authentic apology is a great manner to begin making amends. It’s essential to well known you made a mistake. Just take into account that your apology isn’t the time to justify your movements or provide an explanation for the situation. If a few elements did impact your movements, you may usually percentage those together along with your companion after apologizing and proudly owning your element withinside the situation. Make positive to comply with up via way of means of telling them how you ought to keep away from making the equal mistake once more. If you aren’t positive what they want from you to paintings on the connection, you may ask. Just ensure you’re equipped and inclined to actively concentrate to their solution.

Commit to clean communique

In the instant aftermath of damaged consider, you’ll need to definitely solution your companion’s questions and decide to being absolutely open with them withinside the future. To do this, you need to ensure you’re clean on the extent of communique they want. Let’s say you broke their consider via way of means of withholding a few records you didn’t suppose changed into without a doubt essential, and also you didn’t recognize why they felt so betrayed. This can suggest there’s a deeper trouble with communique to your courting. If you need to restore your courting and keep away from hurting your companion once more withinside the future, you want to attain a mutual knowledge of what properly communique appears like. Miscommunications or misunderstandings can from time to time motive as a good deal ache as intentional dishonesty.

Is it really well worth it?

Rebuilding consider isn’t an smooth task. It’s regular to impeach if it’s even really well worth it earlier than making a decision to decide to operating to your courting. If your companion makes a mistake or over the path of an extended courting and owns as much as it, operating on consider troubles can be the proper pass. As lengthy as there’s nonetheless love and dedication among the 2 of you, operating on consider troubles will handiest make your courting stronger. But in case you realize you’ll by no means be capable of absolutely consider your companion once more, irrespective of what they do, it’s usually great to make this clean proper away so that you can each start to pass ahead separately. It’s additionally really well worth weighing your alternatives in case you’ve found years of infidelity, monetary dishonesty, manipulation, or different predominant breaches of consider. Other pink flags that would sign it’s time to throw withinside the towel include: persisted deceit or manipulation an insincere apology conduct that doesn’t suit up with their words

The Surprising Reason Men Always Choose Certain Women