#every time we publicly insult someone about their body a million other people just like them physically hear that they are bad too

[squid-of-anger]

It absolutely does matter that one of the first insults thrown at men is about their dick size, and also that have Big Dick Energy is seen as such a compliment. There are literal billions of men who feel ashamed or overly sexualized because of these comments. Why is it okay to body shame men about this, but no one else? We talk about how fat jokes are demeaning and hurtful, but joking about the size of someone's penis, which is COMPLETELY OUT OF THEIR CONTROL, is okay? This may be inconsequential to you but it's devastating for some people. There are so many other ways you can insult someone who's being awful that don't involve their body. Why choose something that will hurt innocent bystanders when you don't have to?

if you're genuinely bothered that greta thunberg told andrew tate his dick is small then i truly think you should cause some problems in your life to keep you busy because you clearly have too much free time to worry about shit that Does Not Matter.

[daysswithyou]

Fallen Chapter 24: Déja vu

previous / next

Characters: DAY6 Young K x OC (Rachel)

Warning!: Cursing and swearing, mentions of blood and bodily wounds

------

Tear me apart,

Rip me to shreds,

Leave me as nothing but skin and bones,

An empty shell of what I used to be before.

---

With the stars and moon hanging overhead, Younghyun dropped you off outside the female living area and made you promise that you’ll take a shower before meeting him for dinner an hour later. You nodded, mustering up a weak smile just to show him that you’re alright. You returned to an empty room; Esther should be with Jae now, presumably having a dinner date. You scrubbed your body vigorously in the shower, wanting to get rid of every last bit of dried salt clinging to your skin. Your skin was red, raw and tingling by the time you exited the shower but you could care less. At least you felt clean, clean from all the dark thoughts that previously clouded your mind, though you could never be fully cleansed of the painful memories. Walking along the hallways, you jumped when you saw someone waiting outside your door.

Bubblegum pink hair… classic red nails… This was Ayeon standing outside your room, no doubt about that. You gritted your teeth at the sight – seeing her always spelt trouble. Straightening your back, you ignored her but alas, before you could even get a grip on your doorknob, her voice had reached your ears.

“Drinks? My treat.”

“No thank you, I’ve got somewhere to be soon.”

“Oh, come on. Don’t be such a wet blanket Rachel. It’s just harmless drinks.”

You turned around and crossed your arms before fixing Ayeon with your hardest stare.

“Really? The last time I checked, you don’t ever find me without good reason.”

Ayeon chuckled, but it was a mirthless laughter. Oh, how she wanted to scratch that stare off your face but not yet. Not now. Like a female lioness, patience will be her greatest virtue now – before she went in for the kill later.”

“Alright Rachel, you got me. I do have some things that I want to tell you.”

“You can just say it here.”

“I would need a little more time than that. So why not get comfortable over drinks?”

Ayeon lifted her red lips into a smile, and you knew that you weren’t actually left with a choice. Unless you went with her, she would not stop hounding you. You might as well get it done and over with.

“Wait here.”

You entered your room and slammed the door shut before leaning your back against it. You sent a quick text to Younghyun to tell him that you’ll be late – he didn’t need to know that you’ll be with Ayeon else things are going to get really messy. You swiftly switched off the phone screen once the message was sent. Remembering that she was still outside the door, you scrunched your face up in annoyance, gentling messaging your temple due to the massive headache that was currently splitting your brain open.

What the hell does she want with me?

---

Ayeon decided to go to a bar by the beach and you mentally swore for agreeing to her stupid deal in the first place. Being on the beach again reminded you of today’s earlier events and you could feel the discomfort crawl under your skin, almost like a million ants were festering under your skin. But there was no way – no fucking way – that you’d admit this weakness to Ayeon. Suppressing your fear, you held your head up high as you walked behind her. As the bar got closer, you could hear the addictive tropical house beats blast from the stereo speakers, the occasional lyrics becoming clearer once you reached the hut. You recognise some of the people at the bar as your classmates and you gave them a small wave as a greeting. Some waved back but quickly frowned when they realised who you came with. Guess your bad relationship with Ayeon is still widely remembered by everyone. You heaved a sigh as Ayeon greeted the bartender with a smile and waved them over.

Let’s just survive this conversation, then go get dinner.

You’re broken from your reverie by her question.

“Martini for you?”

“Yes. Lime. Please.”

“One vodka for me, and one lime martini for the lady here. Charge both to my bill.”

You watched as Ayeon passed her black card over and you kept your gaze on her, expecting her to initiate conversation. But she merely glanced at you from the side of her eyes, smirking as she did so.

“You’re in no hurry, right? Let’s enjoy the music and ambience as we wait for the drinks.”

This bitch is playing with me. Fucking hell.

“Sure.”

You kept your voice levelled, not wanting to give her the satisfaction of knowing that your blood was currently boiling inside because of her. Thank goodness Lady Luck was on your side tonight, for the drinks arrived shortly and you resisted the urge to gag when you saw the bartender throw a wink at Ayeon, to which she giggled like some love-struck main in a chick flick. You felt a vessel pop in your temple, and you quickly brought the drink up to your lips, hoping the hot liquid would distract you from that sight.

“Out with it Ayeon. I know you’re not here to enjoy my company. Say your piece, and then we can both part ways.”

“Ouch Rachel, I am hurt.”

You tsked at Ayeon and you saw the shift in her gaze. She released her lips from the rim of the glass cup before turning fully to face you.

“Since you’re so eager to leave, Rachel, I shall cut to the chase. I know about the deal, and I want Brian back.”

Upon hearing her words, you scoffed out loud with your tongue in cheek. The audacity of this bitch to want him back after all the damage she has done. Has she no shame?

“Ayeon, in case your memory fails you, perhaps I should remind you that you’re the one that broke up with first and then publicly humiliated him. After all the damage you’ve wrought on him, you want him back? Your shamelessness is truly astounding. Besides, you can’t just ask for it back. It no longer belongs to you.”

You expected Ayeon to land a harsh slap across your face for insulting you, but she merely pulled her lips back into a smile, showing off her perfectly neat rows of white teeth.

“Oh really? I think it does. Normally I would have taught you a lesson for insulting me but I shan’t waste my energy when I’ve got an easier method to deal with you.”

You watched as Ayeon tapped her phone screen a few times before your phone screen lighted up – as with all your other classmates surrounding you – with a notification from the school app.

You continued to glare at Ayeon. What game is she playing right now?

Ayeon doesn’t waver under your gaze, she merely picked up the stem of her glass delicately before bringing the clear liquid to her lips.

“Check it. I’m sure you’ll be very interested to see it’s content since it involves… a certain… someone.”

The bite in her last word made it clear who she’s referring to and your fingers moved on their own accord to swipe at the notification. A video post with no caption is presented to you and you pressed the play button. The whole video is dark due to poor lighting and you barely make out his figure until the moonlight shone across the planes of his face, illuminating his prominent, handsome nose.

Younghyun… but what the hell… why does he look so dishevelled… and that suit…

You recognised the suit now – it was the one that he wore when he showed up looking all dazed and frightened at your doorstep. The image of his fear-stricken face appeared in the forefront of your mind again, the harrowing image knocking the wind out of you. Audio emitted from your phone speakers again; someone was shuffling offscreen. When you saw her, that’s when you felt the phantom, ice cold hands wrap their fingers around your throat, slowly but surely squeezing the life out of you as it got harder to breathe with each passing second. You’d recognise that pink bubblegum hair anywhere – one that is currently sported by the same lady sitting in front of you in flesh.

The pair in the video was none other than Ayeon and Younghyun, the former whom now had Younghyun pinned against the wall as she aggressively sucked his face. Younghyun had one hand up her thigh, with the other on her lower back. Then, a flash of white hair in the video – Dowoon. Dowoon whom had accidently witnessed this sinful sight that very night. The weight of the truth finally hit you all at once, one that had you stumbling out of your chair as your phone clattered against the glass table top.

So, this was what happened that night. This was what Dowoon was trying to warn me about this entire time. Gosh… I’m such a fool. Younghyun cheated on me. Another guy fucking cheated on me – again. I’m so stupid for believing him… for believing that he loved me.

Against your wishes to not show an ounce of vulnerability in front on Ayeon, your body betrayed you as your throat ran dry, scalding tears already pooling at your lash line. Your grip on your phone is so strong that the screen almost cracked, your nails pierced into the soft flesh of your thigh and drew blood in the process. Ayeon snickered from her spot in front of you, relishing in the sight of your emotional torment. She broke you again – twice now. Oh, just how much more pathetic can you be?

“Like what you see Rachel? Told you his heart still belongs to me.”

Your body felt so weak due to the torrent of emotions currently raging within you – so incredibly weak that you can’t even make a sound to retort Ayeon. Then the sound of a suppressed giggle came from behind you and that has you snapping your head up to look at the person. Your classmate is currently stifling their laughter behind the palm of their hands, the fingers pointed at your pathetic self. More laughter erupted around the bar, some openly jeered at you now. This sort of scene… it’s all too familiar to you.

The canteen.

Jaebeom.

The public breakup.

It’s happening all over again – you’re the prey laid out in plain sight for all the wolves to see, before they closed in to rip you into shreds. Your head rung painfully with their shrill laughter; your heart hammering so painfully hard in your chest that you thought it might shatter your ribs. Your head is jerked back by Ayeon to face her, her perfectly manicured fingers digging viciously into your jaw,

With a sneer, she spat: “Go on, run Rachel. Run like you always do, run like the pathetic creature that you are. That’s what you do best anyways – running from all your problems.”

She then pushed you off to the side, sending you tumbling off the chair. She stopped short of kicking sand into your face – you looked wretched and pitiful enough. She didn’t feel the need to trod all over you again, you’re already doing a good job making yourself look absolutely miserable. Rising on wobbly and unsteady feet, you stumbled out of the bar, moving further away from the group of people that wanted nothing more than to tear you apart.

One step,

Then the second,

And another.

Soon, you’re thundering down the length of the beach, kicking up sand behind you as their laughter got softer and softer,

And then,

Silence.

The quiet static of cricket chirps filled your ears, the sound mixing up with the distant lapping of the waves upon the shore and the rustling of palm trees above you. It was quiet – just you against the world with your broken heart. On a normal night, you would have enjoyed the tranquil atmosphere and view; the stars still looked pretty hanging like shining crystals in the sky but tonight… your soul felt void. Completely drained and sucked dry of every good emotion in this cruel world – you honestly doubted that you’d be able to feel positive emotions after all the turmoil that you’ve gone through in your life, more so after tonight’s events. Younghyun’s cheating incident was really the last push that sent you tumbling over the edge, crashing into a million pieces with no hopes of ever being whole again. No matter how hard you tried, the unwanted images from before refused to leave your mind. Even when you squeezed your eyes shut, the cursed images kept replaying again.

Her lips on his…

His hands on her thighs…

The forsaken clothes on the floor.

One need not be told to know what happened next. The memory sent a shockwave through your body, and you lurched forward violently as your chest caved in on itself, forcing you onto the hard gravel, scrapping your knees and palms in the process. Yet, the physical pain was nothing compared to the emotional turmoil within you. A strangled sob escaped you as the first tears streamed down your face like a thundering waterfall – never ending and soaking your outfit wet. You really did not want to make a fool of yourself and cry in public but you knew you could not keep it in anymore – else the pressure would kill you. So, there in the middle of the street, you wailed as you felt your heartstrings snapped. It was physically possible to die from a heartbreak and for a moment, you considered the possibility that you might. You were not sure how long you cried for – minutes? Hours? Time lost it’s meaning to you. After all – you no longer had an appointment to keep, or a place to be. You cried yourself dry, till you could not physically produce tears anymore. You felt like you were going to pass out any moment, and the first instinct would be to call Esther for help. To talk? To come and get you? Maybe both. You just knew that you wanted your best friend by your side now to hold you and tell you it’s going to be alright – because you no longer had the strength to say those words to yourself – maybe you needed someone to tell you so that you would believe it.

You tapped your phone screen weakly, only to realise that it had been damaged beyond repair during the incident just now. The screen was glitching – now it would be impossible for you to contact Esther. The additional distraught of being left with a damaged phone and no means to contact anyone caused another wave of frustration to bubble up within you and you let out a disgruntled sigh, the sound scratching against your hoarse vocal cords. With blurry vision, you slowly rose from the ground and stumbled forward. You didn’t know where to go – all you knew was that you wanted to go far away – to a place where no one would recognise you, and no one you knew could find you.

Away from Ayeon, away from Younghyun, away from this damned life that you led.

To leave things behind, you’d have to keep moving forward – and so you did. You dragged your limp body forward along the unknown path with no idea where it’ll lead you. Even when you walked right into the middle of the road, you didn’t notice until you saw a burst of light so bright that pain shot right through your eyes as the horrible screeching of tires pierced through the silent night, the smell of burning asphalt making you gag. It took you a few seconds to realise that you nearly got ran over by a car – almost, but not quite. The shock sent you collapsing onto the floor, scrapping your already wounded hands more. Any further abrasions and your skin might just be ripped to ribbons. The headlights of the car were inches from your face and when you lifted your eyes to look at the driver, you aren’t even surprised anymore.

She wanted you dead, maybe she was just making sure of it now. From her seat behind the wheel, Ayeon sneered at you. You’re a pest that just won’t die, constantly interfering in her life and making it difficult for her. And now? You nearly sent her to jail for an almost hit-and-run incident. The bright headlights gave Ayeon a clear view of you and she scoffed. Not only did you feel like a pest, you even looked like one. Disgusting – a creature that no one would want to look at. Your eyes were bloodshot from all the crying; no doubt. Your hair has fallen out of the neat braid it once was in, the strands of hair clinging to your face. Your nice outfit now stained with red, your perfect hands and feet now ruined from the damage you’ve caused yourself. Ayeon always knew you were… pathetic… but she never imagined this level of degradation that you would wreck upon yourself. Ayeon does not have sympathy to help you so she swerved her car and left you in her dust. Someone will pick you up eventually, or you could get run over by another car for real this time – she honestly could care less.

As for you, you just sat where Ayeon had left you, much too distraught to move yourself to a safer place. The world hates me so much, it’s trying to kill me now. It should have just now when it had the chance to. Why am I not dead yet? You chuckled darkly to yourself like a lunatic at your thoughts, pressing your forearm against your face. But the laughter soon gave way to more tears, though you previously thought you were incapable of producing more after crying yourself dry. You don’t know how long it’s been since you’ve sat by the side of the road, listening as cars passed you by.

The next time you saw light, Esther’s face was right in front of yours. One look at you, and tears immediately brimmed in her eyes – a rare sight for someone as tough as her.

“Rachel… what happened to you?”

---

The notification appeared on Esther’s phone screen when Jae went to get coconut drinks for them.

Ayeon? What’s the crazy gal up to again? Another video? What is this?

Esther pressed play and by the time Jae returned to her side, her face had turned ashen with her jaws clenched and lips pressed into a thin line.

“Esther? What’s wrong?”

“That bastard. That bastard that we call a friend. He cheated on Rachel.”

Jae nearly dropped the drinks when she turned to face him – never before has he seen such feral rage in her eyes, the fire blazing fiercer with each passing second.

“What are you talking about? What did Brain do?”

“This. This is what he did.”

Esther shoved her phone in Jae’s face and clicked play. Oh, now he knew. Now Jae knew why Esther was going mad with rage. There was no mistake about it – Brian and Ayeon are back together again. And now the whole world knew.

“I need to find Rachel. I need to tell her this before she finds out on her own.”

“Wait Esther, let’s not be brash. What if she’s seen it already?”

“Then all the more I need to be by her side to comfort her. Twice, this has happened to her. She’s gotten her heart broken by jerks that don’t deserve her. I know he’s your friend Jae, but this is where I draw the line. You don’t have to follow me, and I’m sorry but date night will have to wait.”

With that, Esther took off down the length of the beach, racking her brains on places that you might possibly be at. Jae returned the drinks to the stall owner before hollering after Esther, as the stall owner hollered at him to take the money back. She ran to the other end of the beach when she spotted you there. A speck in the middle of the road. That’s you for sure – she’d recognise your favourite sundress anywhere.

“RACHEL!”

Jae thought he would finally be able to catch up with Esther after running for so long, but he only groaned when he saw her picking up speed again. How she coulf outrun him despite all his basketball training still baffled him – he’s truly got one hell of a girlfriend.

When Esther finally got to you, she nearly stumbled back from the shock. Who did this to you? Who reduced you to this weeping, hollow shell of a person that she once knew as her best friend? The wounds – oh gosh the wounds were the worst. Long cuts across your legs and arms, the wounds festered for a long time; she could tell because of the dried blood against your white dress. Some were deep with gravel stuck between the gaping wounds, she could only pray that you would not need stitches but she was not optimistic. But it was your eyes that told your story without words – oh, how could someone’s eyes hold so much sorrow in them? The blood smeared across your face gave you a ghastly look, but it was really the look of anguish in your bloodshot eyes that broke Esther’s heart and forced tears through her eyes.

“Rachel… what happened to you? Who did this to you…that monster! The wounds… they look really bad. You must have been out here for so long so let’s get you to the hospital first alright? Those wounds must be cleaned before it gets infected.”

Esther moved to help you up gently, but you merely gripped onto her shirt tightly, pulling her down to sit beside you.

“It hurts Esther… it hurts…”

“I know Rachel, I know. That’s why we got to get them cleaned alright? Then they’ll hurt less once they’re recovering.”

“Not the… not the wounds. Here. It hurts here. It hurts so much I think I might just die.”

“Where…? Oh, oh no, Rachel please don’t cry. He’s not worth your tears… please don’t cry…”

When Esther finally looked down at you, you weren’t holding onto your wounds in pain like a normal person would. Instead, you were clutching onto your heart, fisting the fabric above that area so hard that you might tear the material at any time. Nothing could compare to the emotional pain that was still wrecking your body at this point in time. Even Jae – whom was watching in the background – felt anger slowly rise within him for the pain his friend had caused you. No one deserved to suffer through this sort of emotional torture. Brian had disappointed him, and all of them. As you continued to sob into Esther’s embrace, Jae’s phone rung in the background.

Brain Kang calling

Not now Brian.

Jae’s phone continued ringing, and when Jae finally lifted his eyes to look at Esther, he knew that she could never forgive him.

“If it’s Brian calling, tell that bastard to get lost, and never appear in front of my sight again. I will rip him to shreds if he does, I could never forgive him for what he had done to her.”

Jae gulped, swiping the red button as the world around you went black.

Like déjà vu, your whole world came crashing down on you.

[whoever-iwant-tobe]

It wasn’t meant to be a long game. (part 3 of ?)

David x Natalie– 

Sorry this took so long!

honestly, what I imagine their history and life to be. Obviously this is made up, but some of the actual timeline stuff is most positively messed up because my memory is shit so just pretend my timeline is entirely fictional so that you aren’t holding me to any type of standards. This is my first fic ever and is probably teeming with errors (part 3).

Warnings: still none yet, maybe part 4? we shall see!

____________________________

When the hug ended, you smiled at each other and went your separate ways into your rooms, to bed. After the conversation-- after the hug that made you feel safer than anything else in your life-- the two of you became a lot physically closer. Your shoulders would be pressed up against one another on the couch, in his bed editing. You’d bump one another as you walked side by side, and you were rarely more than 10 feet away from one another at any given time. That hug was like an unspoken commitment, but it didn’t mean you were more than friends. 

The next thing started with a fight.

It was a fight about a vlog, one of the primary things you two would bicker about. He could no longer edit without you, which meant you had a pretty big role in his posting twice weekly. It would have been 3 times weekly if you hadn’t staged a whole ass intervention to save everyone in the VS’s sanity (but mostly yours and David’s). This time you were both laid back in his bed (not weird), it was nearing 3am, and everyone else had gone home. You watched him work and consulted on every miniscule decision as he put together another 4 minutes and 20 seconds of footage to share with millions of people.

David wanted to include yet another confession of yet another instagram model confessing his love to him while he denies them. He got a weird kick out of it, while you couldn’t help but feel bad for the girls. You know they agreed to include the footage, and some of them probably only participated for clout, but it was frustrating nonetheless.

It wasn’t that you thought he had feelings for any of those girls. You knew David well enough to know that he doesn’t operate like that. He’s a heart guy. If he doesn’t love you as a person, inside and out, and have a genuine friendship-love connection, there will not be a sexual connection. 

It frustrated you because you knew how much it hurt him when you did that to him as a teenager. You knew how much he resented and internalized it. You’d heard it from his friends. It’s no secret what a blow it was to his ego. You don’t think it’s fair that he’s doing it to the girls. like it’s some weird form of payback by proxy.

You also knew you had no business correcting him, but you did it anyways.

“That’s so fucking obnoxious” you mutter under your breath.

“What?” he asks.

“Nothing”

“No, what’s fucking obnoxious? Tell me”

“I just don’t think it’s right that you are exploiting another girl like that. Like she has feelings you know” you blurt out.

David just rolls his eyes and keeps editing. But you already started laying into him, so why stop now.

“David, you know what it’s like to be rejected. Why are you broadcasting these girl’s rejections all over the internet?” You sat up on the bed where you’d been lounging next to him.

“They literally gave permission. What the fuck do you want from me?” now he was getting defensive.

“I want you to think about how other people feel for once in your life!” 

He just stared back at you, shocked. You two bickered, yeah. But this was kind of a low blow for you. And it wasn’t even true. You knew David cared about people. He cared a LOT about people. He wouldn’t use footage if someone really didn’t want it out there (barring a few special circumstances) and he was actually really thoughtful and caring when he wasn’t over the top stressed about getting a vlog out.

After the words flew out of your mouth, a big part of you regretted them. But another part of you really was mad at him. Maybe you were mad that he was exploiting those girls’ feelings. Or maybe you were mad because you hurt his all those years ago. Or maybe you were mad because you had real feelings for him and you had no fucking clue where his head was at and it fucking sucked.

You grabbed the pillow that had been between the two of you, hugged it tight to your chest and face, and shouted “UGH!” to avoid just word vomiting everything you were thinking. It helped.

When you uncovered your face, David was still staring at you, puzzled.

You could see in his face that he was trying to work out why you were suddenly so mad about this. You’d never said anything before when he did this with Cindy or Tana or Kelsey all those months ago. Why now?

“Nat, what’s this about?” his voice was soft now. His eyes dug into yours, looking for an answer. “This can’t be about her.”

“No David, it’s about you.” Your words are less aggressive than before, but they still come out harsher than you’d like.

“Nat, what’s going on?”

“I just don’t want you to regret hurting them publicly. Regretting something like that really sucks, and sometimes you have to regret it for a fucking long time.”

That was a half truth, at least. The wheels were turning in his head. He turned his body to face yours, pulling his leg to the side so he could sit up straight too. His eyes still staring into yours.

“This is about me. Is this about us?”

You’d had a lot of deep conversations since the tides had turned and the two of you’d become closer, but this was the one subject you hadn’t broached since the brief mention of regrets on that flight to Boston.

Back into the pillow you went, face buried, avoiding. You stayed there, and he waited. You could hear him shift, leaning into the headboard. You could feel his eyes still on you.

“Natalie, it’s okay.”

Silence.

“Nat, I’m a big boy. My feelings aren’t hurt because you rejected me in high school, if that’s what this is about.”

You release a puff of air into the pillow. Still not coming out.

“Come on Nat. It’s really fine. Look, now I have boring insta models in love with me! I’ve recovered!” he jokes. He’s trying real hard to get you to come out of your pillow. He can’t see your eyes roll.

He puts a hand on your back and you melt into it. He pats you right between your shoulder blades, trying to comfort you. You take a breath and finally sit up. His hand falls off your back, but stays right next to your hip on the bed. 

“I don’t just regret hurting your feelings. I mean I do, but that’s not it.”

Now he’s picking at a loose thread from your hoodie right where his hand had landed on the bed, face puzzled still, trying to figure out your point. You were good with words, but way better when rehearsed.

Now it was your turn to talk. “David I have regretted so much for the past 10 fucking years, but the biggest thing is not letting myself feel what I felt. I didn’t let myself even have a chance and it was so fucking stupid. And now we’re here and I get to watch girls throw themselves at you and then I have literally no fucking clue where your head is at and you’re like the most important person in my life and it’s just all so fucked up. And it’s all my fucking fault.”

Silence. So you keep talking.

“You said you didn’t want to lose me, but I don’t want to lose you EVER. Not now or in a year or when you eventually find some model to marry. And it’s such bullshit for me to even be telling you this or to make you feel bad because it’s my fault.”

More silence.

“You know what. I should go. I think I need a vacation. I’ll see if Taylor is ready to cover for me or I’ll call Cas. I’ve got to..”

“Natalie.” He finally speaks, gently.

“What?” It comes out like a bite, full defense mode now. You said way more than you meant to and there was no going back now.

“Why do you think I’m going to marry a model?”

Of course THAT’S the part he dwells on. This time, you lean back into the headboard and bring the pillow up to cover your face. “UGH!” you groan again.

He laughs and pulls the pillow down, resting it in your lap and holding it there with your hands so you can’t hide again.

“You know that’s not my type. Besides, WE’RE married. Jason said so!” He’s really trying to get you to laugh now, and it works.

You let out a small laugh, and his hands that were holding the pillow down go to grab your arms atop the pillow as well. His thumb rubs at your arm softly. You finally look back at him.

“Natalie, remember how I was in love with you at 14?”

“Obviously, I think that’s how I got myself into this mess”

“Well I don’t feel that way anymore.”

“Great”

“No, when I was 14, I thought I loved you because you were cute and athletic and laughed at my jokes.”

“Awesome”

“But now, you’re still all those things, but you’re also like sooo much more. So I feel so much more too. You’re strong, you’re fucking hilarious, you get shit done, and you make me feel so much better than I ever did before. I feel secure with you here.”

You look in his eyes. It’s easy to tell that he’s being sincere. He keeps rubbing your arm, and you move your other hand to hold onto his wrist while you think.

But then you let go. “Why do you always act like you’ve been insulted when people insinuate something is going on between us? And I’m always the assistant, never the best friend or even friend.” The pain from those instances is coming back.

The hand that you’d let go, he grabs with his own. “I have spent so much time trying to not feel anything for you, first because I felt like I didn’t deserve you after everything when we were kids. Then because of Shawn.”

“Well why now? Why still?”

“You really wanna know? It’s a fucking list.” You nod. “One, because we’ve been friends forever and if we fuck that up I’ll never forgive myself. Two, you’re the ONLY person who can do what you do for me and I don’t want to fuck that up. Three, I still don’t fucking deserve you. I’ll fuck it up like I did with Liza and then everything will be fucked. Oh and four, I don’t want the fans to destroy you and I don’t know what they’d do.”

“Well then I guess we’ve been worrying about the same shit” you laugh. He smiles. “You didn’t fuck up with Liza though. You’ve got to stop blaming yourself for that. That was a team effort and no one deserves blame.”

“Yeah, but I can’t lose you like I lost her.” David looks down at your hands tangled together. You lift one to his cheek to bring him to look at you.

“How many times do I have to tell you, you aren’t going to lose me. Ever.”

You both stayed still and silent for a moment. And soon it was a moment too long. You couldn’t take the silence. “I’m gonna go to bed. Let’s finish the edit tomorrow. The people will live.” You get up and start walking around the bed and to the door.

It takes David a second to realize what’s happening, but he gets up and follows you, grabbing you by the shoulder as you’re about to cross into the hallway. You turn to face him.

“Wait,” he breathes. “Stay here.” 

Without even realizing what was happening, David’s mouth was on yours. Who moved first? It didn’t matter. What mattered right now was that your heart felt like it grew wings and your stomach flipped in all the right ways. His hands held your face and yours held on to his waist. Then his hands fell to your hips, pulling you closer towards him. When you pulled back to take a breath, you could see the need in his eyes, and your heart urged you to get closer to him. This kiss was 10 years coming.  You were not ready to let it end.

“Ok,” you responded. “I’ll stay.”

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

So this took me days because I wasn’t sure exactly how I was going to get to my end game. I think I have one more chapter in me, but it might be a little steamier. I didn’t have a full plan when I started, so apologies if my continuity is a bit off!

[roidespd-blog]

Chapter Three : THE DESOLATION OF THE GRINDR USER

« Grindr is a sociopath nest », Anonymous 

Grindr was launched on March 25, 2009. About a month or so earlier, I lost my virginity to the sweetest guy you could imagine. I met him on what we could consider one of Grindr’s ancestors, Gaypax— I still have that account, out of nostalgia. The design is so ugly I wonder now how I did spend so much time on it (we weren’t picky back then…) So Grindr was born at the exact time my sexual and romantic life was unfolding. It means that, except for the few years I’ve spent frenetically masturbating to La Redoute’s underwear catalogues and downloading dirty pictures of Brad Pitt naked with a very slow wifi, I’ve always been accustomed to gay apps.

Recently, the new and improved french magazine Tétu published an article called « Faut-il brûler Grindr?». Though not as detailed as I was hoping it would be, it did not changed my general opinion about the dating app paradigm. 

FLASHBACK France, 1971. A young gay man living in a beautiful city called Paris. Mike Brant just released his first major hit, Rock’N’Roll is slowly dying and Les Bidasses en Folie is this year’s biggest success at the box office. Unfortunately for him, the Gay Rights Movement is just at its infancy, homosexuality is still considered a mental illness and sodomy is punishable by law. So he shut his mouth and do his dirty business privately. he spends time around Place de Clichy and finds very discreet bars that can welcome him without too much judgement. He takes long walks toward the Tuileries bushes and sucks a stranger’s dong without any verbal exchange. He ends up marrying that fine young Marie, daughter of a friend of his dad, makes a couple of kids and from time to time, goes back to those places, shameful of himself.

That was the life of a gay man in France. If he didn’t get killed along the way. CUT TO 2009. Grindr is the first official gay dating app launched around the world. In France, the ban on sodomy disappeared in 1981 and since 1992, you are no longer considered a crazy person for being attracted to a person of the same sex (well, not from an official medical point, anyway). The app came to fruition through a simple question asked by its creator, Joel Simkhai : « WHO ELSE IS GAY AROUND HERE? ».

By 2012, 4 million people were using the App. 27 million as of 2017. Tinder followed in 2012 — you are welcome, straight people. Then SCRUFF, GAYROMEO, HORNET, BLUED, … What is wrong, then ? You damn well know something is wrong.

SMARTPHONE, 21st CENTURY’S NEW BACKROOM

If you go to a bar, you have to talk to the bartender, exchange a least a fews words with strangers, even dance as your look around and are being seen by others in the flesh. If you go to a gaybar, the same thing happens. If you go to a gaybar then the gaybar’s backroomn, rules change.

As the dating apps was closing in on worldwide domination, it became clear that the natural human kindness and respect would ultimately have no effect on the way people would communicate with one another on Grindr. I’ve been working in a bookstore for the past four years, you see. I expect a “hello”, “goodbye” and a smile during any interactions with clients — from them and myself. So there’s nothing more annoying that someone coming up to you, barking what they want to and leaving without any civility whatsoever. The Grindr equivalent would be Step 1 : A DICK PICK (or ass pick. I once had a fisting commemorative photo sent to me) straight up. Step 2 : A terribly convenient “cc sava tu ch?” or a “cho?” Step 3A : If you are polite enough to answer something, a conclusive “tu reçoi” or “tu bouge” Step 3B : you did not answer a singe word and the guy either sends you a “????” or insults the shit out of you. I sometimes do not answer impolite clients at work. Guess what ? Bitches say hello if you stare down at them long enough. On the internet, never gonna happen.

I remember the first couple of times I went on Grindr. I tried to answer everyone, even a “no, thank you”. There was always some “Hello”s, “How are you?��s, a few “My name is”s. But as the years went by, gay men (as I mostly talk to gay or bisexual cis men on these apps, I can only give my opinion on that category of people) adopted a series of unofficial rules to talk to each other.

1. If we are on this app, we are ready to fuck. 2. We do not have time for small talk. 3. We do not need your name, but dick size and multiple nudes are welcome. A picture is worth a thousand blablablahs. 4. We need to be very precise about what we want, so as not to waste our precious time. 5. Seriously, give us a full diagnosis of your body shape through pics, boy. 6. Chems ? 9. There are no rule 7 & 8, because 6 & 9. Now, turn around.

There are also lots of personal rules users seem keen on sharing them publicly as to implement unofficial rule number 4.

NO FEMS, NO BLACKS, NO ASIANS

“Pretty chill guy here. Very open minded and friendly. I love men from different cultures. Just no Asians. Asians leave me alone. I’m not racist” “Don’t message me. I’ll message you :). No Blacks Asians or fems. Love it when fats call themselves masc. hahahaha.” “Tell me if top/btm. Don’t really believe in “vers”. […] Attracted to Latin & White (trying to sound PC)” “Chill masc sane… just described nobody on here… Over 35, Asian or fem = block.. haha” “99% of you are losers. I’m the top 1%. So prove yourself first” The last one was written by a white male, by the way. They all were.

In our modern society, we’re not fools enough to believe that racism disappeared and everyone is accepting of others. Just look at the whole series of events called “while Black” where white people called cops on black folks for getting out of their airbnbs, talking in a Starbucks without ordering or falling asleep in a communal room at college. Nevertheless, you don’t see parades of racists proudly marching with “NO BLACKS” signs on the streets — you see another type of marches, yes. Free speech and stuff, sure. So why has it become acceptable in people’s minds to shade light on their racism in their profiles, barely hiding behind the “sexual preference” bullshit excuse ?

In an article dated September 2018 called “Why is it OK for online dates to block whole ethnic groups?” (2), the Observer related the appalling anecdote of an elderly white man who responded to a Grindr user of asian descent : “Asian, ew gross”.

I myself was told that I was too fat, too small, too twinkish, then not enough of those, or too white (but so we’re clear : RESERVE RACISM IS NOT A THING. STOP TRYING TO MAKE IT A THING!).

Racism also works with the beliefs that if you look or act a certain way, you obviously are what someone’s fantasy is. You are a black man so I assume that my hole will expand by ten once you’re inside me. You a blond light weight with feminine traits. You’re a submissive bottom and a real whore.

The world works on assumptions (ex : the myth of the BIG BLACK DICK or the for-sure global instinct that Tom Hanks would never have to face any #MeToo accusations) and apps follow that same path but without any policing. The absence of ramifications from someone’s actions further implement a feeling of unapologetic mindfulness — the same way being in a dark backroom with strangers you can’t see does not seem to add any consequences to what you’ll do next.

Recently, Grindr tried to course correct its past errors by creating “Kindr” (3). Was it a new app that would prevent people from actively using hate speech ? WELL WHY DON’T YOU PREVENT IT ON GRINDR THEN ? Was it a new platform to exchange ideas and experiences so that we can find another way to communicate together ?

Here’s how they introduce Kindr on their official site : At Grindr, we’re into diversity (MONEY), inclusion, and users who treat each other with respect. We’re not into racism, bullying, or other forms of toxic behavior (YOU ARE THE TOXIC BEHAVIOR). These are our preferences, and we’ve updated our Community Guidelines to better reflect them. Same app. New rules (DID YOU THOUGH?) Everyone is entitled to their opinion. Their type. Their tastes. But nobody is entitled to tear someone else down because of their race, size, gender, HIV status, age, or — quite simply — being who they are. (AS LONG AS IT DOES NOT PUT YOUR BUSINESS IN A RISKY POSITION) Join us in building a kinder Grindr. (DO YOUR OWN DAMN WORK). Express yourself, but not at the expense of someone else (OR US). Report discrimination when you see it (LIKE WITH THE JEWS BACK THEN. ALSO, WE THE USERS, ALREADY DID THAT). Use your voice and share your story to call out prejudice and spark change. Together, we can amplify the conversation and take steps towards a kinder, more respectful community (SEE, WE AT GRINDR ARE WOKE).

There you have it. A marketing scam to ease the pain of millions of users whose relationships and self esteem were affected by Grindr’s lack of interest in their consumers. How many years did it take for a simple statement from the CEO ? What’s actually concrete about these actions ?

in the community guide lines, it is stated that they “will remove any discriminatory statements displayed on profiles. […] Profile language that is used to openly discriminate against other users’ traits and characteristics will not be tolerated and will be subject to review by our moderation team”. FINE. So, if someone says “no short fat asians”, theoretically it would be removed from the profile. But if it says “more into vanilla and spice than chocolate and rice. So hit me up if this is you” (an actual Grindr profile, by the way), what can a Grindr moderator do about it ? The racism is still there. Are we to believe that EVERY single profile is being reviewed in detail ?

#deletegrindr was a popular hashtag over a year ago. I’m not on twitter and I still heard about it. Was it a cultural shift in the way gay people wanted to treat other gay people ? Were we on the verge of a revolution ? Nop. Grindr released data informations of thousands and thousands of profiles about HIV status (something that you can put on your Grindr profile) to third party companies. Since then, Grindr released the Kindr initiative and rewrote its policies.

I’m not against dating apps. I think it was a wonderful tool back in the day to extend one’s horizon, explore and experiment with love, sex and adventures. It no longer works that way. I didn’t even talk about the spreading of drug using through profile description and the real danger of stimulants in someone’s sex life.

#deletegrindr should come back and this time, it has to work. Silicon Valley, go make an app from scratch. One that would implement actual kindness to the machine, not based on popularity. Think of what people need, not what they want. People are shitheads. I’m a shithead. What I want is never good for me.

And YOU. You, little queer boy reading this. Don’t go on Grindr before going to bed to check the hotties in your area. Forget about that 6'2 monster cock Swedish god that lives nearby and offered you a quick hump for the ride. Ask him for a drink, put down your phone, get to know him a little and then fuck his brains out. You’re still gonna fuck but you’ll find humanity where there was once none.

That’s my preaching for the night. I gave up long ago on apps. I delete them all and stay away for months. Then, I feel lonely and get back to one or two. I met this new guy that way (4).The nice thing about it was that we did not talk dick sizes, favorite positions or any sexual desires until way after we actually met (and we’re talking two full weeks of messages). I’m not on any dating apps now.

(1) https://tetu.com (2) https://www.theguardian.com/technology/2018/sep/29/wltm-colour-blind-dating-app-racial-discrimination-grindr-tinder-algorithm-racism (3) https://www.kindr.grindr.com (4) https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ezra_Miller

[alcarrows]

have you been re-introduced to ALECTO CARROW? last we heard, the PUREBLOOD was most familiar with TIMELINE ONE. I don’t recall if they were always a RAVENCLAW, but I’ve heard the SEVENTH YEAR is still SHARP, POISED, LOYAL and CAUTIOUS, PROUD, DESIROUS, so that’s familiar. at least SHE remembers her way around the castle. ( zoey deutch; zoe, 20, cst )

alecto has a stats page on her blog and her bio from the main, as well as a pinterest board and playlist! but under the cut i have a ( not very ) little bullet point bio!! it gives the gist. anyway feel free to like or hmu bc i want to plot with everyone!!!

pride’s a nasty sin. alecto reminded herself of this every morning when she woke, and, after those blissful few moments between reality and dreams, reminded herself the mess her pride got her into. her family was never the sort to teach their children to be paragons of virtue  ---  but never did they teach them to let their sins run wild. carrows were precarious balancing acts, a little too wild and too reckless to ever be the golden children. but their blood was true and their convictions honest, so people forgave their transgressions; expected their transgressions, even.

it was a strange mantle to be born unto. be good, but not too good; be wild, but only as wild as your leash allows. it always chafed alecto, the sweet-faced pureblood daughter with a wandering mind. 

she was always happy that more wasn’t asked of her  ---  that grumblings of politics she found unsavory were never thought to be of interest of her  ---  but wasn’t it a little insulting, too? she had such a sharp mind, after all, and doing nothing but dainty, husband-finding diversions made her feel like she was going insane. she was grateful that the old purebloods were too lazy to force change; she had a feeling any changes they wanted wouldn’t suit her sensibilities anyway. but in the meantime alecto knew very well she couldn’t force any changes of her own, either. 

it wouldn’t do to cause a ruckus.

ravenclaw wasn’t quite a disappointment, but at eleven when she wrote home news of the sorting, she knew she’d lost any chance of being the favorite. a girl, darling little thing, with a whip-sharp mind  ---  that she made sure to only publicly use for chess and russian literature, but was a problem all the same. she would bring no heirs, and the thought of the mind on her made it harder for the family to pawn her off on some other bloodline’s idiot sons. she would never be the trophy girlfriend hanging off their arm.

her family was fine with it, really, and they left her alone so long as she feigned vapidity in all areas but her carefully plucked passions. she was a whiz with languages and dueling and history  ---  oh, but goodness, bigoted politics were such a boring thing. itty-bitty alecto felt faint at the very thought.

carrows were precarious balancing acts. alecto reminded herself of this, too. she hated the routine she lived ( being herself until she snagged watchful attention, and then pulling back into a placid-faced nobody of a girl ) but it was survival. because alecto had a secret: she couldn’t care less about blood purity and all the battles it begot. she had quite the mind for politics, in all honesty  ---  but her personal beliefs were at odds with the family’s inbred ideologies. they didn’t act on them, but they were toxic and present all the same. 

the only reason she stuck around, kept quiet and still, was because the system benefited her. and family, well, that was everything, too. there wasn’t a disloyal bone in alecto’s body, so long as that loyalty was sworn to anyone but herself. she could never do it  ---  picking up to leave might satisfy her restless spirit, but her pride would curse her should she ever be so weak as to do what she wants.

after all, it seems the pureblood way to have a million desires burning quietly up your spine as you sat doing nothing. she couldn’t afford to cost her family’s pride by being selfish and causing a scene, a scandal. she was too smart to do something so stupid as gamble away her comfortable life for the sake of something as silly as her wants. her dreams. her beliefs. 

but just because she didn’t turn her back on the world she’d been brought up in, alecto still hated the watchful eye of society and did her best to turn away any closeness, lest someone see too true a version of her  ---  she reveled in ravenclaw and preened under attention, but those were little wants. indulgences. she’d never allow herself anything more, and she’d never let someone see every part of her. it felt lonely, but it was sustainable. it was safe. letting anyone in or leaving anyone behind was too much. 

the thing was that she’d always had a mind for strategy, a mind more battlefield than mind. and oh, alecto knew she could look so good, shrouded in warfare  ---  even if it was only the war her own rocket-quick departure would surely bring. but where would that leave the rest of her? where would it leave her every carefully constructed persona? 

for years it was easier to stave off that line of questioning. to ignore that she didn’t fit into the world her name gave her birthright to, to ignore that she didn’t want to be a part of it at all. 

alecto just had to strap her knives and wand to her thigh with pretty little garters, the better to flash the steel beneath silk skirts and lace robes. she learned to enjoy the refined burn of downing shots worth more galleons than some would ever see. she learned to love glittering adornments, and tossing her hair, and beguiling with a single flash of her pearly-white fangs. to turn a biting turn of phrase softened by gleaming eyes. she was good. except when she was bad. and loathe though she was to admit it, she could still find enough ancient carrow in her to be very, very bad when she so chose.

badness could very easily be written off as youth, except by those who shared alecto’s youth with her. then, well, it was her destructive carrow tendencies coming out to play. it was her forgetting which line in the sand she was supposed to pretend to care about. it was her doing very reckless things, perhaps unknowingly  ---  or perhaps awaiting the mess she’d leave in her wake. she’d have to fix the mess, of course, and in that fixing would lie the cool reminder that she looks like any of the rest of them, now, but she will always be a carrow. and carrows are too sharp, too much, and so alecto is, as well. 

( the secret was she was too much alecto to be anything, really )

if she left all this behind, where could she possibly fit? who else would take her for all her sins and virtues, her lies and unwitting truths? as much as she is able to see through the facades of pureblood society  ---  and she is uniquely able to. has always known that they are all lucky the old guard is too comfortable and tired and dumb to act on their prejudices, has always known that beneath the glamour lies a grit. for all of that, alecto still feels ties to the only awful world she has ever fully known. 

the nature of it, she knows logically, is that it gets its dark claws into the core of you. instills a love of family, a love of pride, that keeps you from leaving. even when most days you want nothing more than to separate from the pack and finally become yourself. 

to her family, to those few that matter, alecto is too soft, and there’s the greatest irony. alecto resents her enjoyment of the things she made herself into, all those years and years ago  ---  the dresses and the parties and the champagne, and the flirting, laughing ease of life. she’s very good at playing her role, but when she needs the reminder of herself, she’ll proudly hint at challenging ideologies, flash her house colors, show her wicked words. but at home, well, that’s child’s play.

could she ever run from it all? sooner or later her family will turn her into a truer, crueller carrow. or maybe the rest of the wolves will take the ’ pretending ’ out of her facade. the independent charade has always been for her benefit only  ---  she’s loyal to a fault, and though either outcome would kill her, she’d succumb to one all the same.

with the revelation that there were other worlds like her own, but not, running congruent in time  ---  with the revelation that in one there was a war that brought her to this strange new existence  ---  alecto isn’t sure where she stands. the reality she now faces seems to be one where the adults she’s known all her life aren’t so lazy or useless anymore. a war is afoot, and with it come a whole host of new choices alecto has to navigate with the same sure-footedness she’s come to demand of herself. this could be her chance to break away from her family for good; to rebel in a final feeling way and become someone else entirely. or it could be time to see the consequences of her mind come calling. 

she doesn’t know if the old alecto from this new reality worked behind the scenes for the apparent war efforts for a cause she abhors. she doesn’t know if that girl was already in the process of leaving. and alecto so hates not having all the information.

and she hates even more not knowing if having all the information would help or hinder her choices. for the moment, alecto has decided to continue on with life as she always had, even if this is most certainly no life she’s ever known before. who would she be if she didn’t roll with the punches, take pain and doubt in stride? she cannot afford to slip up now, when the possibilities are dizzyingly endless. 

[lisaslookbook-blog]

Love island and mental health how are the two connected?

With millions watching Love island on a nightly basis its pretty easy to say its become huge phenomenon. If you haven't seen or heard of Love island ...... firstly where the hell have you been? and secondly you're seriously missing out! ....... The basic principles of Love island are you go in find love and win 50k at the end ..... reality? allot of bitching, backbiting and 'doing bits'. 

So now if you didn't already know you now have the basics I can tell you the real reason for this post. Love island this year seems to be like the world cup...... 

1. Gets the the nation watching the same channel every time its on 

2. Unites the nation on who's muggy and who's magic.  

While these united fronts are all well and good the implications of the social media discussions surrounding certain islanders can have a greater affect on said individuals long after the show has ended. Though most commenting on the shows posts/individual islanders Instagrams and twitter others resort to 'Trolling' using social media to verbally abuse their victims. These comments to some may seem 'harmless' or 'its only a few not the mass' but these comments an have devastating consequences. 

Recently Sophie Gradon a love island contestant from 2016 described her decision to be on Love island to be the worst decision she ever made, adding trolls had made her life hell during her final interview before ending her life. During the interview she goes on to openly describe how she battled with anxiety and depression. Describing some of the negative comments she received she explained "There would be so many negative comments. They are commenting on the way you look, the way you talk. They would come up with an opinion of you on a TV show after watching you for 45 minutes". Losing her battle to anxiety and depression at age 32 has Sophie's death been due to her mental illness or should the blame be placed upon those 'Trolls' who may have caused her illness to spiral? 

Within British law there is a term deemed 'the egg shell rule' in which you take your victim as you find them. This term was developed surrounding a legal case where a victim died after receiving one punch to the skull causing sudden death. The defence tried to claim the punch for a healthy individual would not have caused death meaning the plaintive had no intent to cause death. However the court disagreed with this defence arguing that each individual should be taken as they are found. Therefore meaning if you punch an individual in the head with a fragile skull syndrome or another unknown physical condition resulting in death which would not occur if the individual was of standard health known to the assailant. This change in the law has helped to convict those causing murder recklessly without the need for intent. but lets look at this another way what about mental illness causing an individual to become fragile and likely to develop either suicidal thoughts or intentions leading to loss of life derived from 'Trolling' and mental abuse? Where is the protection?

The effects of trolling online seems to be constantly increasing, making me wonder where is the protection online for those vulnerable to its affects? Being a lover of all things fashion i follow many many many bloggers and Instagramers showcasing their style and individuality. Even those bloggers with millions of followers have some commenting on how skinny she looks or how much cellulite they have. We live in a world where we have more freedom than any of the generations before us so why do some take this freedom to go online and publicly try to devalue others? 

The current season of love island which is air 5 nights a week on ITV 2 has already created highly differing views on some of the islanders. One in particular that has seen significant backlash has been islander Megan Barton-Hanson, receiving the new nickname 'Muggy Megan'. Many comments left on Instagram mainly surround her time in the villa, to which some don't make for light reading. This enough is cruel and unnecessary however some have gone on to insult her appearance. Megan reportedly has spent 25,000 on cosmetic surgery to change her appearance, which may suggest she had insecurities with her body pre-surgery. Although 'Trolls' online have taken time to dig up pictures of Megan pre-surgery some deeming her 'disgusting' and adding 'no wonder she got the work done'. Although Megan will currently have no contact with the outside world, when she leaves the island and enters back into the outside world these comments and posts could lead to another tragedy brought on my online users choosing to use their time to dissect the appearance of others. 

When will their be the same protection and justice for those who lose their battle with mental illness due to online trolling? 

Having grown up around family members suffering heavily with mental illness and battling depression myself i know the effects that just one negative incident can have, so the idea of these individuals receiving sometimes hundreds of negative and abusive comments daily scares me to think of how this may be affecting them. 

This post may seem like one big rant but really what i'm trying to press is that as individuals we need to build each other up rather then pull others apart. The World Health Organisation found that currently around 450 million people are battling a mental illness; suggesting the chances of you either knowing someone with a mental illness or having one at some point throughout your lifetime are extremely high. Things need to change, and today is where we begin. Your friends, family, colleges may be fighting their own mental health battle so lets get talking. instead of asking how someone is and excepting the general " yeah i'm fine" lets really ask "Are you okay hun?". Yes that's right i said it 'Hun' this word has so many meanings when you're female especially in the time of memes and gifs. But lets change its meaning. Lets start open and frank conversations about our mental health!

Its time to talk, so i'm going to ask you now ...... Are you okay hun? 

                                                        Lisa

                                 xoxo

[caredogstips]

6 Iconic Works Of Art With Brutal Insults Hidden In Them

We all take our inessential little revenges where we can. If someone cuts you off in commerce, you give them the thumb. If one of your co-workers ingest your lunch, you pee in the coffee maker. If someone talks at the movies, you follow them residence, dress like a comedian, and shriek “their childrens” awake each night for the rest of “peoples lives”. But not everyone stops events so reasonable. Here are masters who held onto enmities so long and so hard that their petty avenge became commemorated in their work.

# 6. Harry Potter Is Full Of J.K. Rowling’s Secret Insults

We’re at a culture time where anyone who needs Harry Potter explained to them is clearly a robot trying to gain sentience. So we’re hop-skip the purpose of explaining who Harry Potter is. Better luck next time, robot. For the rest of you, it turns out that J.K. Rowling realise it a habit to turn real beings from her life into attributes in her works, and for shifting those personas into avenge. For instance, when Stephen Fry was hired to narrate the first audio journal, he was told that a sequel was already in the works. Fry commended this Rowling person whom he’d only met with, “Good for you.” She took it as an offend and never forgot it. It got petty.

When registering the book, Fry had fus adding the words “pocketed it.” Through a bizarre lecture hindrance, it always came out as “pocketeded it.” So he called her up and would like to know whether he could change it. Rowling afforded a hard no. And then, through sheer coincidence , the phrase “pocketed it, ” appeared in the next four Harry Potter notebooks. That’s how ridiculous “womens issues” was willing to get for the tiniest quantity of revenge.

Which introduces us to the character of Gilderoy Lockhart, the blowhard educator from Chamber Of Secrets . He was based on a humanity Rowling knew and reviled, who was constantly bragging about acts that almost certainly never happened. So she made him a persona in her work who virtually facilitates Magic Hitler rise to power and get his psyche mopped. Then, after publicly announcing that this shithead was based on a real guy, Rowling responded, “Don’t annoy … he will never in a million years dream that he is Gilderoy Lockhart.” So everyone who has ever gratified J.K. Rowling, take note: There’s a decent hazard she thinks you’re a stupid asshole.

Based on a real stupid asshole .

Another character, Harry’s vile Aunt Marge, was based on one of Rowling’s family members who “liked dogs more than people.” But there’s one character who rises above all others in the annals of hated Harry Potter Characters. The one character whom every fan agrees is the most evil and disliked. No , not Voldemort. Not Lockhart. Not even the sniveling Wormtail.

It’s Dolores Umbridge. Her identify literally signifies “annoyance and offense.”

You goddamn bitch .

If you watched the movies, you might recollect Umbridge as the short one dressed in all-pink who realise Harry write with a pencil that carves characters into his tissue. Seemed a little bit much, right? Well, she was based on a educator Rowling knew whom she described as someone she “disliked deeply on sight.” The impression was mutual, and Rowling described her style as being “appropriate to a girl of three.”

Imagine you’re a coach trying the very best to fertilize young judgments. One of your students( though not your favourite) has already become the most successful writer since God. Excited, you open one of her volumes and find someone who’s clearly you, written as a dimwitted maid of immoralities garmented for a children’s tea party. Oh well, you predict she never forgave you for those imprisonments …

“That was just the once, you crybaby.”

… and then later in the book, your reputation is dragged into the woods by centaurs — a scene which we’re almost certain implies that they then raped her.( That centaurs abuse human girls is an essential part of the lore around them. For speciman, the centaur Nessus was killed while trying to rape a human lady .) Yeah, that’s how freaking nighttime this gets. J.K. Rowling didn’t get along with one of her coaches, so she had the teach get( apparently) sexually contravened by horse-men in a children’s volume. Then she announces to the world that this sorceres get bayoneted in every flaw by centaur rooster is based on a real party. “Not to * wink !* name any refers, but it was one of my teachers, and here’s job descriptions! “

“Does she have teenagers? They just watched Stand-In Mommy lose all hope and glory. Oh glee! ”

So if you ever had an proof with J.K. Rowling, give the books another speak. There’s a good chance a goblin based on you has been torn apart by unicorns for the amusement of children.

# 5. Muslim Street Artists Bash Homeland … On Homeland

Homeland is a testify with so many absurd constructions that it’s more of a practical joke on the observer than a floor. But that’s not why it’s contentious. It’s about CIA agents contending Islamic terrorism, and it’s been called everything from insulting and humiliating to borderline racist. Basically, the appearance treats controversial issues the same way Donald Trump might list his favorite Mexicans — it’s not quite “bigoted, ” but it’s definitely uncomfortable.

So some of Homeland ‘s detractors decided to speak out against the reveal from inside the show itself. One occurrence took place in a Syrian refugee camp. Because the writers are all lily-white Americans with little-to-no Syrian refugee camp suffer, they decided to let some individuals who knew Arabic embellish the laid with graffiti. You possibly discover where this is going. They wrote smart-ass words everywhere.

This suggests ” Homeland is watermelon, ” which is meaner than it resonates in Arabic .

The three masters hired were Don Karl, Heba Amin, and Caram Kapp, and they felt that the establish reached Arabs and Muslims feel disliked and helped shape negative minds. So they said so, in Arabic, right in front of the producers’ non-Arabic-speaking faces.

“This show does not represent the view of the artists.”

The entire place seems a bit obvious in hindsight. Homeland is no other indicate on Tv that hires Middle-Eastern performers, and most of them either play-act suicide bombers or regular grinders. So when the same evidence hires Middle-Eastern set designers and tells them to make it super Arab-y , no one should be surprised if they respond by trolling you.

Actual translation: ” Homeland is racist.” Oh, and “NO MICKEY MOUSE.”

# 4. The God-We-Wish-It-Were-True Story Of “The Cask Of Amontillado”

“The Cask Of Amontillado” is one of Edgar Allan Poe’s most well known toils. It’s about a being who gets retaliate on a acquaintance by pulling him underground with wine and then entombing him alive. He leaves “the mens” chained to a wall to die, mocking the man’s shriekings for blessing. A few vague details are given, but it’s never become clear to the reader what injustice invigorated the assassination. Even for Poe, it was a bit dark.

“Once you’re dead, I’m giving your body the teabagging of Amontillado.”

And it all started because another novelist was sort of a douche.

Like all scribes, Edgar Allan Poe had a wonderful sexuality life, great “hairs-breadth”, all the money in “the worlds”, and countless antagonists. One of them was a scribe mentioned Thomas Dunn English. The two detested one another, and Thomas wrote a parody of Poe into one of his tales: a reference appointed Marmaduke Hammerhead who writes a legend called “The Black Crow, ” acts crazy, and is drunk all the time.

Poe didn’t think it was cute. He registered a suit against the working paper English worked for, and acquired. Still unsatisfied, Poe decided to placed him into a narrative. And in that legend, he garmented “the mens” like a jester, walled him up in a dungeon, and tell madness and famine race to destroy him. In … in fiction! Exclusively in fiction.

This was his response to being announced crazy .

As you might have approximated, the poorest of the poor drink dumb “whos got” lay alive in “The Cask Of Amontillado” was based on English. So if you had to read the tale in high school and none of you could figure out what the hell the guy did to deserve such a dark fate , now you know. He gently taunted Edgar Allan Poe. When Poe kills you in a legend, he dresses you like a buffoon and lets you whimper for their own lives alone in the blackness. As opposed to doing you in with the whimsy of a centaur penis.

# 3. Willow Swerved Multiple Movie Critics Into Villains

Though you put your heart and soul into a work of art, there will always be a critic there to tell you it sucks. It happens no matter how great your artistry happens to be, but it happens a lot if your prowes — like Willow — kind of sucks.

Maybe in a preemptive strike against their inevitable offenses, or maybe as revenge for past commentaries, George Lucas mentioned two of the villains in Willow after film reviewers. The first was General Kael, a skull-headed warlord reputation after Pauline Kael, who had called Star Wars an tired circus with no psychological clutch. Well fuck you, Pauline, you’re an evil skeleton now. In Willow .

“You look hopelessly cool and impossibly badass. Aren’t you ashamed? ”

And this wasn’t the only period this happened to Kael. The same year Willow “re coming out”, an analog of her also appeared in the Dirty Harry movie The Dead Pool . Apparently, the filmmakers still hadn’t forgiven her for calling Dirty Harry “fascist, pro-violence, pro-gun, republican nuttery scrap.” So they based a reputation on her, and then had that character get brutally jabbed to demise. That’ll picture her who’s pro-violence!

“I know what you’re deliberation: six gaping spurting curves, or only five? ”

You might believe that George Lucas was outdone, since his insult was simply appointing some guy “Kael, ” while Dirty Harry exited all-out and killer her. Perhaps you’re right. But wait until you hear about the other reviewers who took a smack in Willow . This one is brutal .

At the end of Willow , a two-headed fire-breathing dragon shows. George knew the dragon could be more than a fantastic culminating to history’s greatest film — it was his chance to get revenge for every mean happen Gene Siskel and Roger Ebert had ever said about his movies. Those guys would rue the day they traversed the artistic juggernaut of George Lucas!

He identified the dragon Eborsisk.

“We grant it two deformed-looking whale dicks up.”

Oh, shit! Can you envisage what Siskel and Ebert must have visualized when they received information that !? With one reputation( which is never even pronounce aloud ), Lucas killed them both and plummeted the mic. Eborsisk! That’s like both their reputations in one! It was the snap discover of all the countries … Eborsisk. The instant some supplementary information revealed that the dragon’s reputation was Eborsisk, “the worlds” knew never to doubt George Lucas’ filmmaking abilities again.

# 2. The Symbolic Middle Finger In The Adventures Of Huckleberry Finn

The writer Sir Walter Scott isn’t exactly a household name, but there’s a respectable opportunity you’re familiar with some of his effort, like Ivanhoe and Rob Roy . Regrettably for him, the most famous journal in which his name sounds is The Adventures Of Huckleberry Finn . And that’s because Mark Twain goddamn detested Walter Scott.

Even more than he hates you for misrepresenting him on Facebook .

Twain thought that Scott’s writing romanticized battle, and was worried that young men were reading about the magnificences of engagement and ranging off to combat. He felt that Scott’s novels were to blame for much of the “windy humbuggeries” of the South, which gave rise to concepts like duels or even the Civil War itself. He felt that Scott’s novels continued the delusion that Southerners were noble heroes and gentlemen, despite their participation in brutal frontier justice and the owning of other humans. So Twain are determined to immortalize his antagonism of Sir Walter Scott in art.

If you don’t recall the patch of Huck Finn , it’s about a runaway boy and an escaped slave traveling down the Mississippi River, and the language hasn’t aged well. What you may have never observed was an aesthetic offend to Scott encoded into their passage. In the tale, Twain named a steamboat after the object of his condescension; the Walter Scott is carried away by a strong present and wrecked against some rocks.

“The regained wood was then turned into an outhouse which was consistently full of shit.”

It was meant to symbolize the path the Old South rode along on Scott’s strong back toward an out-of-control catastrophe( the Civil War ). It’s a little bit more subtle than embed someone alive or probing them with a centaur, but it translates to the same act: “Fuck you, Sir Walter Scott.”

# 1. DC And Marvel Piss On Their Movie

In its very first trailer, Man Of Steel boasted a quote from Grant Morrison’s All-Star Superman . This was strange chiefly because All-Star Superman is considered one of the greatest Superman floors ever told, and Man Of Steel was a 150 -minute tantrum hurled by stupid room juveniles. Besides having a laser-eyed alien as the prime reference, they could not be more different. In Man Of Steel , Superman clicks cervixes and watches fathers succumb. In All-Star Superman , he is infallible and benevolent. He’s nearly drew as God.

It’s not even that subtle about it .

Morrison shovels the idea of Superman being a perfect compounding of every human ideal. So he was understandably ticked off that the matter is “gritty” movie in which Superman is a petty thug exploited a quotation from his duty. But since he wrote Action Comics , Superman’s flagship title, it was likely wasn’t appropriate for him to come out and publicly talk shit about the movie. Instead, he carefully knit all that shit-talking into a Superman story.

In a long, mind-bending narration that obligates Memento look like Blue’s Clues , Morrison acquainted a soul called Super-Doomsday.

We’re sure that swastika-looking “S” was purely coincidental .

It’s created by scientists attempting to make a pure and inspirational person, but in their hopelessnes, they sold him off to “owners corporations” which moved him into “a violent, disturbed, faceless anti-hero … a global marketing icon .“

Sound familiar?

“Oh, I get it. You’re like a metapho-AARRRGH! LASER BEAMS !!! ”

Superman eventually uncovers him and uncover a distorted half-Superman/ half-Doomsday — which is eerily same to the form of Doomsday’s origin in the upcoming Batman v. Superman .

“Ugh. Doomsday is some Kryptonian DNA with demon shit attached? What deplorable monster would green-light that project !? ”

Morrison got extremely heavy-handed as he wrote. The commercialized Superman is powered by “a simple corporate directive: kill the competition.” And if that wasn’t obvious enough, the large-scale bad behind Super-Doomsday( an imp from the fifth facet) find right out and explains it TAGEND Able to pinch limitless account in a single body …

“There’s blood on your princely pinnacle. A stain that can never come out. The mark of betrayal and exploitation … Your “S” a dollar sign! ” It almost sounds like he’s referencing a very concrete occurrence. Hmm … wonder what it could be?

“Hkk! This … testifies a fundamental misinterpret … hkk! … of 80 years of reference developing! ”

While on the subject of literary superhero retaliation, Marvel had a similar rebuttal to a bad movie in the sheets of Fantastic Four . In one issue, groupings of people birthing a strong resemblance to the stars of the appalling, frightful Fantastic Four reboot be standing talking about a movie that they worked on with a director referred “Trang.” “Its probably” a including references to FF chairman Josh Trank, but it’s so deeply unclever that it virtually seems impossible.

Turning that “4” on his shirt into four middle fingers would’ve been wittier . And then this happens TAGEND

“We had to level the whole metropoli in case they wanted to threw a reboot.”

That’s it — over the course of three boards, Marvel wordlessly explosion them. It’s the kind of hamfisted theme that makes you long for the intricacy of a fifth-dimensional pixie appearing to explain the laugh. Or, of course, the sophisticated nuance of J.K. Rowling’s unwanted centaur cocks.

Always be category, because you never know when you’ll end up a laugh in someone else’s innovation. Witness more of that in 6 Brilliant Insults Hidden In Video Games As Easter Eggs and 6 Famous Works Of Art You Didn’t Know Were Vicious Insults .

Read more: www.cracked.com

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