#having a crisis on a sunday night… typical

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

sorry i’ve been quiet here lately. i’ve been working nonstop and this fuckass job is making me miserable <3 also i’m going insane because we haven’t had any summer weather and I literally need sunshine to survive

no time to rest, let alone write. but fear not, I have one (1 whole) day off coming up so hopefully i’ll get to writing a little then.

might do some more of your blurb requests, they’re short and sweet. if you’re waiting on a chapter update of something, i’m afraid i’m going to make you wait a little longer. sorry!!

I feel like so many people are in a slump at the moment. if you are, you’re not alone, i’m right there with you. if you ever want to send me an ask/slide into my inbox and just have a chat, ask questions, tell me about your days (especially if something good happened!) please do. love you

sorry for complaining!! I know you don’t come here for negativity. my apologies. not trying to kill the vibe <3

[moriartyluver]

FALSE LOVERS CHAPTER XXVII

"IVE ALWAYS WONDERED if this day would ever come. I'm sure that some of you have already heard of this.." Albert turned his head from the dark window to face the others, attempting to speak over the thunder outside "The situation has become extremely worrisome..this crisis is the first of its kind that the moriarty family has ever had to face."

Crack

Lightning had hit a tree outside, burning it to ashes dramatically. Rain poured down in typical British fashion, the windows foggy, covering the gloomy sky. 

"Let's work together in order to build strength." The brunette clenched his fist tightly, brows furrowed with determination as they all huddled together, hands upon hands. "we'll overcome this no matter what the cost..! Is everyone ready? All for one and One for All! Let's go!" 

The door creaked open mysteriously, pulling the attention of the men to the entrance. 

"Sorry we're late..what the hell..?!" Bonde had opened the door with (name) and Josephine stood behind him, bags in hands after they had just returned from a shopping trip 

"What on earth is going on?" (Name) asked, her eyebrow raised in suspicion. 

"Tea party...?" 

"That's right Bonde. As you know," Albert informed the trio who were stood in front of him "families hold tea parties on a rotational basis. Tea parties are often held in the day time, opposed to night parties. I've tried my best to hold it off but the other day, Earl Rockwell finally called me out.."

"It was about time," (Name) commented, sitting down with a sigh, legs folded over each other. "Frankly, I think we've been avoiding them for a while now." 

"I was reluctant, but I agreed to host the party at our manor this weekend." Albert added 

Josephine nodded "If the party is to be held on Sunday, we don't have much time to spare. We should get started on preparations as soon as possible, provided there aren't any obstacles in our way." 

"I have business to attend to on Sunday," (Name) said abruptly. 

"Care to elaborate?" Louis asked 

"I..erm.." she hesitated, looking for an excuse to not go to the tea party "I have a research project due in a few weeks for the university." 

"No you don't," William said, debunking her excuse. "I recall you saying you wished to spend Sunday reading-" 

There was a moments silence, all eyes on (Name) who suddenly found her shoes rather intriguing. She lifted her head with a groan "Fine, I don't want to host the tea party. Why on earth would I? All I'd do is have disturbing older men explain concepts of various natures which I am clearly more educated in, or worse, they'll flirt with me and treat me like they do a common harlot." 

"If she's not doing it then neither am I!" Moran exclaimed quickly. 

"(Name), you're attending the tea party just like the rest of us," Louis said sternly, turning to Moran. "We all are." 

"I don't want to," she folded her arms over her chest with a childish frown "You can't make me!" 

Albert sighed, glancing at William as if asking for help. He should've known having his brother marry a spoilt noblewoman wouldn't be easy, regardless of how in love with her he may have been. 

William nodded, scoring over to (Name) and leaning in to whisper into her ear as she listened attentively before sighing, speaking up reluctantly. 

"Fine, I'll do it." 

Albert blinked in surprise, curious as to what he said to make (Name) agree so easily. 

"Despite the whole fake marriage ordeal, many ladies still have been attempting to gain access to Will using various excuses." Albert spoke, continuing after the small issue.  "Such women will use the party as an excuse to approach him which means that you..!" He pointed to the (hair colour)-ette dramatically "Will have to keep them off, alright (name)?" 

"Roger that." She said, much more cooperative than before. 

William chuckled. "In that sense, you're also in danger Albert." 

"Of course I know how to deal with the ladies but when they gather in large groups..they gossip and become impossible to read.." all the men in the room shifted their eyes over to (name), who was still despairing over the thought of socialising against her will. 

"Huh...?" She murmured 

"You're the only one of us who'll be able to outsmart the ladies, (nickname), considering both the brat and moneypenny will be acting as maids." Sebastian said to the confused woman "So we'll need you to keep a close eye on them" 

"Shut your mouth," Josephine frowned in annoyance at Moran "I'm far more capable than you are..you'll probably just go drinking whilst the rest of us are working hard.." 

"Surely you wouldn't place such a grand burden upon only me," (name) said, returning to the point "you all know how difficult it is for me to socialise. I can't even read basic social cues half the time." 

"You'll be fine, (Name)." William placed a hand on hers reassuringly "We wouldn't choose you if we didn't think you were able." 

"The only reason you chose me for anything was because I'm handy with a knife." She said, revoking her hand "But if you insist, I suppose I could always try.." 

"Okay..let's go over our responsibilities one last time." Jack said, pulling out a small folded piece of paper from his breast pocket. He unfolded it, reading aloud from the list "As soon as young Al's toast is over, I will attend to the guests at the main venue."

"I mainly manage the party's progress" said Louis with a nod 

"And as head maid, Josephine and I will take charge of the maids to serve you." Moneypenny stated, adjusting her head piece. 

"I'll be in the garden, talking to a few of the guests while keeping a close eye on the more curious ladies." (Name) sighed. She wasn't a fan of tea parties. Ball room parties were usually much more entertaining, possibly because someone would usually somehow die during them but also because she was able to stand aside without any need to talk to anyone. Even at her own wedding, she refused to speak to any guests who weren't her family or close friends because she had gotten so fed up. 

"Our position is in the garden, William." Albert reminded the blond. 

William nodded, "Yes, brother. Let's monitor the situation and help each other in need." 

"I'm mainly here to protect you two." Spoke a butler-ified Moran. 

"I'll be in the rose garden and entertaining the guests there." Fred murmured, fidgeting with his gloves. 

"And I'm in charge of the guests in all areas of the manor." Bond grinned, too enthusiastically for (Name)'s liking. 

"That's right," Jack nodded "Bond is our so called 'Fighter', because a 'battle field' needs personnel who can respond quickly to unexpected situations." 

"Battle field..?" Fred repeated nervously. 

"It won't be that bad," Josephine reassured him, placing a hand on his shoulder "Believe me, I've had a lot worse with (Name)..once she got carried away and murdered a man in one of the Marquis (Last Name)'s villas during a party, but in my lady's defence, he had deeply offended her with his remarks." 

"what did he say?" asked Fred in a mousey voice

Josephine chuckled nervously "let's just say, you can't insult the female sex without provoking (Name)."

"By the way," James said, changing the topic promptly "What's Herder doing?" 

"Ah, he's already in position," Moran explained. Herder was stuck in the basement, doing puzzles whilst listening out for guests who might find the weaponry. 

The instructor glaced around "Everyone is ready." He confirmed "It's time..!"

Not even a second later, the street outside the manor's gates were filled with carriages, full of noblewomen, their giggles echoing as they stepped out of their carriages  

(Name) flinched upon hearing all the loud noises coming from the ladies leaving their carriages. She noticed there were a few males amongst them but not nearly enough as the noblewomen. A ratio of about 1:8, she had observed, and all her comrades would be counting on her to navigate this all in the appropriate manner.

"Now that we're all here.." Albert started his little toast once all the fawning ladies had surrounded him whilst the young noblmen who were waiting for the toast to be over so they could instantly made a bee-line to the poor overwhelemed (Name)  "It's thanks to Lord Rockwell that we were all able to welcome you here today. As you can see there are many shy people in our family," he side eyed his sister-in-law, resembling her deceased brother for a moment "even standing up here is making me a bit nervous. Please take this as an opportunity to look at our rose garden. It has been blooming very well." 

Albert picked up a glass of champagne carefully and raised it as he ended his toast

"Last but not least, there are refreshments laid out for everyone to enjoy. Please take as much time as you'd like to talk to us," He lifted his glass higher "Well then..cheers!" 

Within seconds of the toast ending, both William and Albert were surrounded by multiple noblewomen. Of course, (name) hadn't had it any easier and was soon approached by multiple noblemen who were exited to converse with her. During her time in University, multiple peers were interested in her but disliked the idea of getting closer to her in fear that she, a woman with an education, would go against their ideals for such a lady, or rather their stereotypes.

How abhorent! A woman with the ability to think for herself!

She had a mysterious charm to some. Usually she would be seen with a blank look on her face, whilst other times, she concealed her ture nature with a polite yet deceiving smile. Although she was 'married' in the eyes of the law, it wouldn't hurt anyone if they merely converse with such an elegant lady.

"I had looked forward to talking to all of you, but I can't talk to any of you if you all are speaking at once.." Albert said, snapping (Name) out of her thoughts. "and I don't think a tea party is supposed to be like this. I was hoping we'd be more elegant and austere..." He trailed off, gently grabbing a lady, who stood beside him, by her chin, guding her gaze to his emerald eyes.

The noblewomen and noblemen had caught onto what Albert had meant and slowly dispersed, allowing others to take their time. Some had headed for the greenhouse, full of flowers that had been cultivated by none other than Fred, whilst others stuck around with the two brothers, batting their eyes and attempting to gain their attention. 

(Name) could only furrow a brow and sigh as she watched, quickly distracted by a young man whwo haad caught her attention with a question once it had all died down, far more unique than the ususal questions about her life in England, even if she had been living there for 8 years, or older men attempting to make her feel like an idiot. 

"My apologies if I am out of line, but what are your opinions on the recent Jack the Ripper case," a man with dark hair hair asked her. He seemed around her age, maybe a little younger, and had a polite smile which made his eyes crinkle slightly in the corners "You seem so knowledge on all subjects of conversation, not just superficial ones like most men may assume.." 

"Well, I as a sophisticated lady of polite society, could never be exposed to such tragedies, I have no knowledge of such a case," She jested, a smile on her lips "Although, I'd say the Yard are trying to cover it up with their recent list of suspects, surely nobody would believe that.." she said under her breath

"Yes, well," He took a glass of wine from a servant, swirling the drink in his glass, "I have a theory that the entire thing was a hoax to promote that Conan Doyle's next story."

"You read the Sherlock Holmes series?" (Name) laughed at his theory"That's interesting, I've actually made his aquaintance, we met on the Noahtic.. and a train to London, both times a murder had occured. He just seems to be riddled with bad luck, it must be something to do with his hair." 

"Is that why he covers it up with that dreadful cap?" the man asked with an amused tone 

(Name) shrugged her shoulders as she bit into a small cake, "Personally, I think he looks better in darker tones, and that cloak does him no justice whatsoever." She paused, realising she was actually having fun "I don't believe we've been formally introduced, dear stranger. Perhaps you could change that?" 

He took her left hand, kissing her knuckles over the silk glove she wore. "Lord Oliver Hastings, first grandson of the Duke of Hastings it's a pleasure to make your aquaintance, Lady Moriarty."

"I really shouldn't be surprised you already are familiar with my name," She smiled, a genuine smile at that 

"Well why wouldn't I? You are rather famous amongst the ton, after all, although, I first saw your name in a research paper you had published in your Almer Mater, Oxford ring any bells?" Oliver reciprocated the smile 

"I'm surprised anyone would read that, I was half asleep whilst I wrote it. Do you still study there?" She asked, her eyes drifting over to William, who stood in front of a group of ladies 

Oliver shook his head with a laugh "God no, do i really seem that naive? I graduated last year, personally, I was more fond of subjects which frequire critical thought rather than just making up numbers to solve, so I studied Literature and Philosophy mostly, but I made an exception for what you had to say in that little thesis of yours, and I must say, I've been dying to talk to you since." 

"Well consider yourself saved from such a tragic fate." She chuckled, glancing again at William who seemed to be struggling with a flirtatious young, no scrath that, she was definitley considered a spinster, woman. 

"Is something bothering you? You keep looking over there." 

"Oh no, I'm fine. It's my husband I'm worried about." She turned back to face him, her (eye colour) eyes on his blue ones "He's even more socially inept than I am." 

"And that's why you're seen so frequently in polite society?" He asked 

She frowned in faux annoyance "Doesn't mean I enjoy it." He laughed once more in response whilst (Name) sighed looking back at William, the damsel in distress needed saving "I'm sorry, I'm going to have to cut the conversation short...I don't think I'm a fan of bigamy." She half joked  before walking away, seeing the look of relief on William's face as he noticed her presence.

"What's this, darling?" A sweet voice, almost unrecognisable, called out to poor William, still embarrassed after that 'subtle' confession. If he had taken any more steps further back, he would have tripped and broken his skull in half. 

"(N-Name)." William, face somewhat flushed, managed to utter. 

He didn't often stutter, rather his speech was always elegant and sophisticated, the 'confidence' he exuded was never not noticeable in his speech and yet, that voice...that siren like voice had The Lord of Crime trembling and nervous. William could feel his heart speeding up, eventually pounding in his chest even though his wife was a good few feet away from him, but of course even the mere mention of Lady (Name) could make his brain numb with overwhelming thoughts. 

(Name) walked through the other noble ladies, admittedly rather jealous now that she had finally come to terms with these feelings she had. She gave a polite smile, whispering a few 'pardon me's and 'good afternoon's 

"Now that I recall," She said, pushing past the woman who had attempted to make advances on William "We really bonded over one particular consultation, didn't we?" 

"We did indeed.." William said, still flustered. His cheeks grew a deeper shade of red as (name) cling to his arm, her frame pressed against his as her fingers caressed his bicep. 

"I really am lucky to have such an intelligent, and not to mention handsome husband," (Name) complimented, using her palm to cup his chin and bring him to face her. She turned to the other ladies, flashing a glare at the woman who seemed to have made her husband uncomfortable and then returned back to her lovey dovey expression, smile from ear to ear. 

"My apologies ladies but it appears you must seek consultation another time. I have something my dearest William and I need to discuss in private." She said with a wink, dragging a stunned William towards the nearest entrance to the manor.

Once they had entered, climbing upstairs, away from the guests, (name) dropped his hand promptly with a groan. 

"A 'thank you' would be nice." (Name) said as they walked down the quiet halls. "I had to practically fight off all the men, no thanks to you involving me in this boring tea party..although I must say, I expected a lot less gentlemen within our age range, I typically would attract the older, perverted sort, rather than the nice ones we had this afternoon." 

William clenched his jaw, fighting back his jealous feelings "You found them attractive?" He managed to say. 

"Well, there were a few handsome ones, I suppose." She put a finger to her chin, lips pressed together in thought. 

Was she aware of the effect that she had on him? William was always so rational and calm and he hadn't ever felt so envious of anyone, not in his entire life. Of course he could be occasionally jealous when he was but a child, often looking towards those more fortunate and wondering 'why not me?'  

The last time he had felt like this was when (Name)'s first lover wasn't 6 feet underground and torn to pieces, whenever he would see her smiling with the older boy or laughing at some very clearly not amusing joke (he often thought he was much more entertaining than that dull man, his personality was like that of a lemon which had been squeezed dry). Once he had even seen him kiss her, not very skilfully and much too rough for someone like (Name), he would be so much better for her.

It was in between some shelves in the library when he was trying to find a book on probabilities of all things. He had to resist the urge to throw it right in his hideous face, at the very least (or murder him but (Name) beat him to something for once). William actually remembered asking himself what the probability that she would rid herself of that fool and turn her attention to him. 

"Actually there was one particular man, dark hair, rather beautiful, very funny...what was his name again..? Oh yes, Oliver..." She was almost giggling like a teenager, hands clasped behind her back in an innocent manner. The description seemed rather familiar. Was she really attracted to 'amusing' dark haired men? 

God, she was aggravating. 

But so beautiful too, and witty of course. And her eyes were so captivating, so enthralling. William had known this since forever. Nobody knew it more than him.He'd often gaze into her eyes, especially if she was enthusiastic or explaining a mathematical concept to him. 

"Is that so?" He choked out, eyes lingering on her as she brushed her gloved hand against the textured wallpaper. 

She hummed with a nod "I was convinced he fancied me, but of course, you being you, you had women practically throwing themselves at you and I had to come to your rescue." 

"Women do not throw themselves at me." He stated curtly. 

"Oh yes they do, professor." (Name) teased "You aren't exactly an eyesore, are you? A nice physique, a pretty face, and a tolerable personality. You're considered desirable amongst the women of the upper class." 

But was he desirable to her? 

He had to take a deep breath. She was doing this on purpose, she had to be. She must have caught onto his attraction for her and now he was being tormented by a higher power for his desperations. 

"More so than this Oliver?" He blurted out. He had meant to say something completely different, but it was as if his brain was no longer thinking for him, rather his heart was. 

Had Freud been well established in 1879, one may call such a mistake a 'Freudian Slip', but of course, he wasn't. He had to wait till the 1900s for that. For now, though, dear reader, we could call this a "Liam-being-a-desperate-man-whore-slip." 

(Name) had to fight back the smirk on her lips, wrestling with her desire to laugh at him for now feeling the same way he had made her felt, although William wasn't flirting with anyone in an attempt to make (Name) jealous, he was just existing and trying to give advice to women who couldn't help but adore him. 

She leaned against the wall, inches away from her bedroom door. "Is someone jealous?" She asked, voice sickeningly sweet. William could never truly hate her, well he did at one point, but it wasn't hate so much as it was irritation at her antics, yet she was only a child, a mere teenager. He couldn't blame her. But God, the way she smirked up at him made him want to wipe that expression off her face, it was so unlike him. 

"Jealous?" He repeated slowly, processing and analysing his own feelings. He had long known how he felt for (Name), that was certain, but he hadn't expected it to become more than simply admiring from afar..and yet here they were. 

"The mere mention of another man seems to be making your blood boil.." she said smugly, eyes shining in the sunlight "I never knew your affections for me were so grand." 

"It's not that," William spoke, trying to articulate his speech when all he truly wanted was to press his lips against hers, his voice slowly raising as he grew more tense. "It's improper in polite society for a married woman to act flirtatiously with other men." 

"I didn't take you as one for polite society, William." She retorted, fingers ghosting over his shoulder "I thought that was something you aimed to destroy, sweetheart."

"You know what I mean." He said, red eyes piercing through her (eye colour) eyes. "What would everyone think knowing you've had extra marital affairs?" 

"Now this really isn't like you," (Name) laughed, hand slowly drifting down to his arm "I thought none of that bothered you? We don't exactly have any commitments to one another-" 

"It was implied." He cut her off, almost aggressively. How dare she bring up the initial regulations for this contract marriage when she knew the lines were blurred so heavily at the point, ever since they had slept together, no, ever since they had even kissed! His palms rested against the wall, just short of (Name)'s ears while she tried to stand straight, unwilling to allow him the upper hand. "During our past two years of marriage, you haven't expressed any interest in any men, and there is no need to change that now."  

There was a short silence. The only thing (Name) could hear was her own rapid heart beat and the sound of William's soft breathing as he lowered his face away from her gaze. The position she was in was truly unfortunate, but not exactly unwelcome. He had both arms caged around her while she leaned against the wall, her knees feeling slightly weak as they bent slightly, making her feel much smaller than she was. She had retracted her hand from him, holding to wall to keep herself steady as she attempted to anticipate his next move. It was like chess, except with just the king and queen. Actually, maybe it wasn't that similar. 

"And it does bother me," William eventually spoke, voice ragged and breathless "Ceaselessly. I hated seeing you with that womaniser. And when I had finally thought he was gone and you would turn your attention elsewhere, more only followed..but once we had both left university, I had to witness you sneaking off at balls, usually with that Lord Henry and-" 

"So you did know who Theodore was?" She asked, irritated by his confession "And you felt the need to pretend you didn't, as if you weren't spying on me the whole time! God you are insufferable!" 

"Not nearly as insufferable as you are!" He glared down at her. 

"You know that they didn't mean anything to me, I don't see why this is even a point of discussion," (Name) defended herself, leaning her head against the wall "Why should I be held responsible?" 

William unconsciously clenched his teeth, eyebrows furrowed together. "Must I make it any clearer to you? Are you really that foolish, that naive?" 

"Perhaps I am, I'm just a stupid whore to you, aren't I?" She spat, a raised eyebrow as she waited for him to speak. "But I think I know jealousy when I see it." 

"It's not that I'm jealous, it's just that.." he almost stammered before snapping, much to (Name)'s surprise.  "You're mine, (Name). My wife, not Oliver's, not Lord Henry's, and certainly not Theodore Arden's." 

Since when was he so possessive..? And why was it undeniably attractive? 

His words hung heavy in the air, realisations to his rudeness hitting him suddenly. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say that.." he apologised, pulling away in embarrassment, averting his gaze.  "I shouldn't have.."

(Name)'s fingers looped through his belt, grasping onto his arm as she  pulled him back in for a fiery kiss. He was quick to return the gesture, his hands making theirway to her back and pulling her closer, seeking more of her. 

"You're so irritating.." She murmured against his lips "I despise you with every breath."

He chuckled bitterly at her words, his lips parting and coliding with hers "And you aren't? Nobody has been on my mind more than you..you're a distraction, an obstacle. I can't believe I was foolish enough to marry you." 

"Believe me, it hasn't been easy for me either," (Name) groaned against his lips, pulling his hair. "Can't you do anything right? Kiss me properly...I hadn't waited that long just for you to learn nothing from our previous encounter, or maybe you've forgotten." 

"I promise, (Name), I haven't..I think about it constantly, to the point it haunts my dreams." He moaned as she bit his lip, twisting the doorknob to her bedroom and opening the door with a creek "But if I didn't, I'd trust you to help me recall." 

She cupped his cheeks in her palms, walking into the room with him as he shut the door behind them, allowing them some privacy. "So I'm better than you at something for once, and you have no feelings of hatred? How underwhelming."

"I hate you." He said as he pressed her against her bedroom wall, the wallpaper contrasting beautifully with her skin. "I hate you so passionately I don't know what to do with myself half the time. I wish I could say I regret meeting you but then I wouldn't be here with you.." 

"Mm.." (Name) hummed, her hand making its way to his hair again, her fingers tangling in those blond locks she adored "I hate you more..if you hadn't bribed me to attend this party, we wouldn't be doing this right now." 

"Then thank God I did," he smirked against her lips, breathless from kissing her so long with barely enough room to breathe. His mind was hazy now, and he was just going to exert himself even further, but he didn't mind. Anything for (Name).

"Yo Patterson," Moran called out to the man in glasses "You- this was a difficult win.." 

"I understand..it seems everyone had a hard time today," He pushed up his spectacles with his pinky

"What about everyone else? And the old man?" 

"Albert and the old man already went to their rooms...William and (Name) left early, and I haven't seen them since, but they're around...and moneypenny's gone home." Moran explained

"Really? I brought some alcohol." Patterson smiled, holding up the bottle 

"Sorry," The colonel smirked 

"It seems Bond is already asleep..and I've come all this way..at least you can join me for a drink, Moran."  Patterson said through the snores of Bond, Fred and Josephine who were curled up on the couch together. 

"By the way Moran," He continued, gazing out of the window "I hope you didn't put your hands on any of the ladies during the tea party." 

"I didn't have time for that! None of us did, we were all doing our jobs." He protested, already starting to get tipsy. 

"Hm? I thought you said William and (Name).." the detective paused, shrugging his shoulders "I see you've finely seen the joy of hard work." 

"You don't think they..?" 

"You never know."

A/N: first false lovers chapter in months lol. The wait was worth it I promise. We’re getting closer to the final problem arc tho and that’s depressing ☹️ Anyways, I have finals soon but during the summer, I’ll be posting a lot more, I promiseee. Let me know if I guys liked this chapter because I made a few slight changes from my normal style soo. Okay bye byeee ‼️

[butch-reidentified]

I slept today (Sunday July 2) during the day for literally, zero exaggeration, the first time since Monday night. Not even a 20 minute catnap. and that's on top of running my own business where a massive project I'm comanaging is approaching deadline, a full 40 hour a week side job I don't even do for money, everything that went down on here this week, dealing with new but typical abusive bullshit from my mother-in-law toward my wife, and a personal medical crisis. and other shit here and there (like the whole thing Monday night I posted about the abusive man and his ex downtown) too.

Ima be 100, I rly have zero clue how I'm completely okay right now mentally and physically lmao

but I am 🤷 honestly I'm just as happy as usual. vibing

[dunglizard]

Hello gay community. Haphazardly applied orange blush inspired by Trixie Mattel. Purple inspired by I like it. Basic concept from the edible I took around 5:45.

On Sunday night Maria and I watched I Saw the TV Glow and it carved me open like that boxcutter did Owen. Utterly harrowing stuff. It actually made me have a very real crisis about who I am and what kind of transition I’m pursuing. “Am I asking for a radical reduction instead of typical top surgery because it’s what I really want? Or am I just flinching away from totally abandoning my most feminine characteristic?” I decided that no, this isn’t a flinch. If it was, it would be a pretty silly place to draw a line. I know what I want, and I know what I am: transgender. I’m not a woman, and I’m not a man either. I might not be a lesbian, but I’m some kind of dyke. I’m Maria’s wife. I’m a little high right now. I feel pretty good about the future.

[specter319]

𝗢𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡: 𝗦𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗜𝗡𝗘𝗟 PROLOGUE

Author's note: Annnd, we're live! This has been the product of a month's love with thorough checking on many levels. The zombie CoD side, though there's a game and plot to it, hasn't gotten this kind of love to it before, so, enjoy. And half asleep me might have posted it two days early

GIF by Loonlypaper as well as concept for message Pairing: Damon 'Ninja' West x Kaden Lincoln, Simon 'Ghost' Riley x John 'Soap' MacTavish, Zack 'Nemo' Hayes x Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick. Word Count: 1.5k words no use of y/n eventual relationship establishment, however, Damon and Kaden are married. Summary: In a nation unaccustomed to war, Australia's newly elected government faces a dire crisis when rumours of a biological weapon on home soil, send shockwaves through the Government's defence sector. Dispatching a team of elite operatives to deal with it, the containment goes heads up as they look for other options.

The Black Angel Squad is soon assigned as the situation quickly spirals out of control behind the team's back unknowingly, and to stop a bleeding wound, Task Force 141 is brought in to assist them amid a frantic cabinet meeting of last-minute options and consistent fuck ups, forging an uneasy alliance between two teams. As tensions soar on both ends, questions arise about one thing: Was this the making of a weapon to begin with? Warnings: slow-burn, zombies, canon typical violence associated with Call of Duty, gruesome depictions of death, blood, swearing. ao3 version [Next]

SUNDAY, AUGUST 10, 2025 - 0026 HOURS

“Omega team, you are clear for breach,” A woman’s voice stated on comms as all five men nodded, they knew the plan as they currently leaned against the back wall of a house, reported to have something more than an ordinary case of cocaine inside the walls of the dwelling. Everyone known to the government was all over this, and it was a mission that was to have no chance of fucking up. Five people watched intently over the cladded men through a remote connection from four government forces as some twiddled their thumbs or held hands close to their faces in the anxiety that something was going to go horribly wrong. At best, a soldier not making it back home.

But they never expected this.

As a mutual nod from soldiers near the doors came through the camera, one of them gently prodded at the door handle to make sure there was valid movement that it was unlocked, and with a gentle movement, the grip on the handle got tighter, before, as quietly as they could, opened the door as they moved in, one after the other, weapons in hand at the ready and scanned the area with their night vision goggles for any movement. They had to make sure no one was here. It was silent as hand gestures befell the six men as one of them navigated the rest. Quietly stepping along carpeted flooring as the six of them split up into two groups, all in ways where they could find each other in search of one thing. One of them swore they’d seen movement out of the corner of their eye as they turned around, fooled by something in the goggles, a speck of dust, he put it down to, but it wasn’t.

Silence had befallen in the entire house before suppressed shots were the loudest thing to grab the attention of the other two men that were once split from the third, now turning around and heading back as they kept their guns reticle in eyes sight.

The second lot that had moved upstairs heard the gunshot, but only one of them turned around instinctively. The house was way too quiet for activity, and it had only a quarter of the soldiers somewhat questioning the events days prior, unless they’d finally caught on and legged it. But someone had to be staying back for them, someone always did.

This time it was more evident that something was in the house, and it wasn’t at all what they were expected as an angry snarl ripped through the hallway, more gunshots tore through once more before they too — fell silent. They were being picked off one by one, and someone back in the operations room knew it, guessed it from the first lost signal. 

The pair downstairs most certainly heard that as one tapped the shoulder of the other and soon enough followed the way up the stairs. Then there was panicked running, as if something was coming down the hall way as it rushed past, both soldiers quick to ready their gun and fire at it, but it was too late. Though the people back in the room saw it. Panicked by just what it turned out to be, another round of bullets, and their were only four of them left.

Nostrils had become flared, heard by the only sound picked up from the mic out of all times as they quickly changed their mission tactics. Right under the nose of watchful eyes following right into the room they’d last seen whatever this thing was as the three of them kept steady movements. One of them examined the dead body of his fallen soldier as he saw it in the green specks of his night vision. Whole human bite marks at the neck that had left the soldiers silently struggling for air as he bled out to death, a muscle of the left side of his neck almost entirely missing as one soldier began to silently panic. Whatever this thing was, it wasn’t human. 

Entering the room they had last seen it in, one of them had checked to make sure that it wasn’t hiding in any places where it could gain the upper advantage on them, quick to shine a light through the walk in wardrobe that was placed in the bedroom. Having seen no reflective shadows, but staying their long enough to think that his mind was playing tricks on him too. 

Another screech pulled them back as gunshots were heard once more, this time, a longer fight than just two seconds. But it was a battle that remained unwon as silence filled the house again, and this time. The two remaining soldiers were now fighting for their own survival, not even a question of what it was. Nothing in their minds really, a direct kill on sight if seen with no further intention. That’s how the mission was going to end up, going past the point of failure this time around as they scanned the area and saw another body, the same thing, this time, with audible struggling heard as the blood could be heard sitting in the back of his throat and seeping into his lungs. A sound that haunted one government figure as their body sat tense on the round table.

At this point, the pair of them were now absolutely terrified of the unknown. Quite uncommon thanks to the intensive training, but they truly didn’t know what was roaming the halls of this house. Four cameras had now gone down, and the five people in the room were all looking at each other, not speaking a word, but their eyes and body language they gently spoke all looked back at a man before the screens who was monitoring the situation. It had gone to shit, he knew it, but if these two soldiers could remain alive and kill whatever the thing was, wondering about a possible report of a weapon being used for ill intention was going to be the least of his concerns.

As one soldier kept his footing light in order to try and use the desperate sprints it was making to his advantage, his foot squeaked under the carpeting as he cringed at his own mistake, hoping that it hadn’t heard any of it. It was like second nature for the second soldier to suddenly have the instinct to move back into the comfort of the stairs though, as he did so, he quickly tapped the soldier on the back before he turned around to see where he was, but he’d let his guard down for a single second. And it was the moment it had taken complete advantage of him as it ran at the soldier and took him down in one fail swoop before it ran off into the corridors of the upper floor of the house. 

The last soldier had to get the hell out of there, there was a risk that whatever was in this house could now haunt him, but it was at a point where his own priority of safety was far more valid than that of what was going on around him. As he used all of his muscles to flow into the staircase grooves to remain as silent as possible. He swung his gun around to try and assess the situation, it had truly gone FUBAR in a matter of only ten minutes, though he had no recollection of time, those watching him had seen how utterly terrible this mission had gone, and had hoped that he was the last one to make it out alive. 

But it was beyond hopeless at this point as he tried to make his way back out of the house. Choosing to go through the way they once came in, he checked his surroundings once more. Stopping in his tracks as he saw something by the kitchen, standing there. It had thrown him off at first, hoping that it was just his imagination, but as he moved closer to it, the very same military gear that was rested upon his own shoulders became evidently familiar that one of the soldiers was still here, completely fine.

He squinted in curiosity, why hadn’t he kept up with them? Was he hiding? But as he approached just that little more within distance, the soldier turned around almost inhumanly, and that’s when the last soldier knew he’d fucked up as he almost gasped in shock at the state he saw, before the soldier lunged at him, and took down the final camera that was a connection to the mission. It had gone down the drain. 

There was a tense silence in the room, palpable too. And all they were able to do was breathe as the man turned around from the now loud noise of flashing text that was ‘No Signal’ before he finally spoke up.

“Get another Squad on this, immediately, we don’t tell fucking anyone about this."

[warningsine]

BRASILIA, Brazil (AP) — The buildings in Brazil’s modernist capital, Brasilia, have been enveloped in smoky air the past two days. The central part of the country is just the latest region affected by smoke from fires in the Amazon rainforest, Cerrado savannah, the Pantanal wetland and the state of Sao Paulo.

The smog crisis prompted President Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva to visit Brazil’s fire monitoring center Sunday afternoon. “No fires caused by lightning were detected. This means that people are setting fires in the Amazon, the Pantanal, and especially in the state of Sao Paulo,” he said. His government pledged to step up firefighting and investigations to identify the culprits.

Fire alerts so far this month total almost 3,500 in southeastern Sao Paulo state — the most registered in any month since data collection began in 1998. Over half those fires occurred on Aug. 23, raising the suspicion of a coordinated attack. The smog caused 48 cities to declare a red alert. The good news was that a cold front Monday brought declining temperatures and rain, extinguishing all fires, the state government said.

In Brasilia, the air quality index reached a very unhealthy level on Sunday night, according to Brasilia’s environment institute. This is the first time the state agency has recorded a smog alert since its creation in 2007. Public events were canceled, and the airport of the nearby city of Goiania was closed for a few hours.

Amazon cities such as Manaus, Porto Velho and Rio Branco have been choking on smoke for several weeks but have received less official and media attention. This is partly because it´s an annual occurrence.

“It took the smoke and soot from the Amazon and the Cerrado invading the halls of the presidential palace for the federal government to wake up,” Altino Machado, a journalist based in Rio Branco who has been writing about the environment for four decades, told The Associated Press.

In the state of Sao Paulo, two employees working at an industrial plant died Friday while trying to fight back a fire. Additionally, a total of 59,000 hectares (146,000 acres) of sugar cane plantations were destroyed, according to a producers association. In the Amazon, a federal brigade firefighter also died Monday while working in the Capoto Jarina Indigenous Territory.

The smog that covered Sao Paulo state and Brasilia partially originated in the Amazon, Pantanal and Cerrado, according to Karla Longo, a researcher who monitors smoke at the National Institute for Space Research, a federal agency. Longo said changes in climatic conditions are the main reason smoke reached these regions.

During the driest months of August and September, when wildfires and deforestation peak, the smog typically spreads up to 5 million square kilometers (1.9 million square miles), traveling from east to west and then south after hitting the Andean Cordillera. Earlier this month, it reached Rio Grande do Sul, Brazil’s southernmost state.

However, the arrival of a cold front displaced the smog toward Sao Paulo state, which was already experiencing a record number of fires, and then spread to Brasilia’s region, Longo said.

The researcher also said the number of Brazil’s wildfires this year is not outside the norm. However, she noted that burned areas are larger than average. From January through July, an area the size of Italy had burned — 64% larger than the same period last year, according to official data. Fires are traditionally used as the last procedure for deforestation and for managing pasture.

Almost half of Brazil’s carbon emissions come from deforestation. The country is the world’s fifth-largest emitter of greenhouse gases, with almost 3% of global emissions, according to Climate Watch, an online platform managed by World Resources Institute.

[precisionwormshaft]

Following the Israeli decision

During discussions with Netanyahu, Abdullah had demanded that Israel remove the metal detectors.A work crew removed the metal detectors from one entrance to the compound in the early hours, and cameras installed on overhead bridges in recent days were also gone, an AFP correspondent reported..The compound lies in east Jerusalem, seized by Israel in the Six-Day War of 1967 and later annexed in a move never recognised by the international community.The mosque compound has served as a rallying cry for Palestinians.The move came in the face of intensive international diplomacy seeking to stop wider Palestinian unrest, with Israel saying it would introduce subtler security measures instead to secure the site following a fatal attack.

In 2000, a visit to it by then Israeli opposition leader Ariel Sharon helped ignite the second Palestinian intifada, or uprising, which lasted more than four years. The street says yes and we say yes; if the street says no to the measures, we will say no," he told AFP following the Israeli decision."The dangers on the ground will escalate if we go through another cycle of Friday prayer without a resolution to this current crisis," Nickolay Mladenov said after briefing the UN Security Council, which met to discuss how to defuse the tensions on Monday.They continued on Saturday, leaving two more Palestinians dead.Israeli authorities said the metal detectors were needed because the July 14 attackers smuggled guns into the compound and emerged from it to shoot the officers.One person set off a firework, prompting Israeli police to use sound grenades to disperse the crowd.As word spread of the decision, a few hundred Palestinians gathered to celebrate near an entrance to the mosque compound.Muslim officials remained undecided on Tuesday morning as to whether to accept Israel&China Economy T Nuts Suppliers39;s move and end their halt to prayers at the Haram al-Sharif mosque compound, known to Jews as the Temple Mount.They decided "to change the inspection with metal detectors to a security inspection based on advanced technologies and other means," Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu's office said.Israel's security cabinet took the decision to remove the detectors early on Tuesday.

Details of the advanced technologies the cabinet planned to use were not immediately clear.The Israeli army said the 19-year-old Palestinian had spoken in a Facebook post of the holy site and of dying as a martyr.On Sunday night in Amman, an Israeli embassy security guard shot dead a Jordanian who attacked him with a screwdriver, according to Israeli officials.Israel installed metal detectors at entrances to the compound, which incorporates the Al-Aqsa mosque and the Dome of the Rock, after an attack on July 14 that killed two policemen. They refused to enter the compound in protest and prayed in the streets outside instead.A few dozen Israeli security personnel stood quietly around the entrance, outside which Muslims have prayed for days in protest of the metal detectors.Jordan is the official custodian of Muslim holy sites in Jerusalem.Clashes erupted between Israeli security forces and Palestinians around the Old City, elsewhere in annexed east Jerusalem and in the occupied West Bank, leaving three Palestinians dead.Palestinians viewed the new security measures as Israel asserting further control over the site.A second Jordanian was also killed, apparently by accident."We as the Waqf listen to the street.It also came after one of US President Donald Trump's top aides, Jason Greenblatt, arrived in Israel for talks on the crisis and with the UN Middle East envoy warning of the risks of escalation.Friday's main weekly Muslim prayers -- which typically draw thousands to Al-Aqsa -- had brought the situation to a boil.

The decision to remove the metal detectors followed talks between Netanyahu and Jordan's King Abdullah II.Considered the third holiest site in Islam, it is the most sacred for Jews..

[tryst-art-archive]

Context: Autumn/Winter of 2011

We are now entering the first semester of my junior year of college. During this semester I had a screenwriting class in which we had to choose 1 story to write through the entire semester.

Friends, this class was very valuable, but it broke my depressed little brain.

I first panicked about picking a story because what could I possibly stay interested in for that length of time?? I wound up deciding to tell Arren's story, which I think of as the first of the Khra-nicles, for this class because I at least knew I could care about Khra for a whole semester.

I had the screenwriting class on Mondays, so my second panic was every single Sunday night. I'd procrastinate on doing my screenwriting work every week, then have a sobbing breakdown while pulling the script out of my soul, and that was how I lived that semester.

(Please note how the first 7 of these clearly all occurred in the same night, over a period of 4 hours.)

This was not the class's fault. The class was well-structured, my classmates very kind and even downright flattering about Arren's story, and the professor was highly professional and good at his job. It should, by all rights, have been a fantastic time.

No, the problem was me. I'd psyched myself out about it badly and was having a crisis about whether or not I should be trying to be a writer at all. That crisis of confidence was in part because my college tended to be very anti-genre fiction, which is My Thing, but more than that I'd done to myself about writing what I'd done to myself about art back in high school: I'd decided that others' skill in the medium meant that I was a worthless hack, and I was wrong about that.

In particular, I'd fallen into the trap of comparing myself to my fwb, who was also in the writing major. There was a core difference in our respective approaches to writing in that he wrote out of an unrelenting passion for the activity; he simply was not himself if he wasn't writing. For me, writing was more like a tool--a means to an end--and it was the telling of stories that mattered, not the act of writing. I interpreted that difference as a flaw in myself, deciding that I didn't deserve to be a writer because I wasn't passionate enough about it.

I'd also fallen into the trap of falling for my fwb in a decidedly unhealthy manner. Part of how that unhealthiness manifested was that I started thinking about the future (not a thing I typically did) as something he and I would share, and I made plans which inevitably involved me relinquishing my own ostensible goals in favor of being a breadwinner so that he could pursue his goals. I did this entirely by myself; I never mentioned it to him. It was a delusion of my own making.

And that's really the thing I want to emphasize about the next chunk of time: I wasn't really in touch with reality anymore. I'm not even fully sure why I slipped into a delusional state (who knows, maybe I'll find something that tells me), but it's apparent that that's what was happening. There was this desperate edge to everything I did, and, as aforementioned fwb once said, "Desperation looks good on no one."

[onthepyre]

i think i might be a lesbian but this time it isn't the "bi has a crush on a girl therefore she's 100% gay" that i usually get, it's "oh shit i think every male crush ive ever had was comp het"

??? yknow????

i do this like once a month but it's more intense this time and i dunno what to do about it

[go-scottishgal14]

Biden secretly flying underage migrants into NY in dead of night---Oct.18,2021, NY Post

Planeloads of underage migrants are being flown secretly into suburban New York in an effort by President Biden’s administration to quietly resettle them across the region, The Post has learned.

The charter flights originate in Texas, where the ongoing border crisis has overwhelmed local immigration officials, and have been underway since at least August, according to sources familiar with the matter.

Last week, The Post saw two planes land at the Westchester County Airport, where most of the passengers who got off appeared to be children and teens, with a small portion appearing to be men in their 20s.

Westchester County cops stood by as the passengers — whose flights arrived at 10:49 p.m. Wednesday and  9:52 p.m. Friday — got off and piled into buses.

Some of them were later seen meeting up with relatives or sponsors in New Jersey, or being dropped off at a residential facility on Long Island.

A Post analysis of online flight-tracking data suggests that around 2,000 migrants nabbed after sneaking into the US from Mexico have arrived at the airport outside White Plains on 21 flights since Aug. 8.Records show some of the planes touched down between midnight and 6:30 a.m. — when a voluntary curfew is in effect — with two arriving from Houston at 2:13 a.m. and 4:29 a.m. on Aug. 20.

The clandestine nature of the operation raises questions about how the White House is dealing with a recent surge in unaccompanied minors.The most recent figures from US Customs and Border Protection show that just during July and August,  37,805 unaccompanied minors were caught entering the US from Mexico — sometimes after being abandoned  by professional  smugglers known as “coyotes.”

A source familiar with the operation at the Westchester airport said the underage migrants typically arrive carrying backpacks and are bused to locations including the Bronx, Brooklyn, Queens, upstate Newburgh, and Bridgeport and Danbury in Connecticut.

Around 12:30 a.m. Saturday, it stopped in Syosset, Long Island, at the campus of MercyFirst, a nonprofit sponsored by the Catholic Sisters of Mercy that provides housing and services for “children and adolescents who are the victims of societal problems,” according to its website.

On Friday night, one bus left the Westchester airport and barreled down the Hutchinson River Parkway — which is off limits to commercial vehicles — at speeds greater than 75 mph before crossing the Throgs Neck Bridge.

MercyFirst has a contract to supply the federal government with residential services for “immigrant youth,” according to the site.   MercyFirst CEO Renee Skolaski didn’t return a request for comment.

Later Saturday, a similar scene began playing out in Jacksonville, Fla., where many of the flights from Texas have touched down before continuing on to Westchester — and where The Post saw a Boeing 737-700 land shortly after 10 p.m. at Jacksonville International Airport.

As local cops stood by, a group of between 10 and 15 people wearing matching white baseball caps and carrying duffel bags got off the plane and onto a charter bus near a dormant cargo terminal.

After a two-hour ride, the group arrived around 1 a.m. Sunday at the Twin Oaks Academy, a juvenile detention center in the Apalachicola National Forest near Tallahassee, where staffers were waiting to open a gate topped with barbed wire.

Republican Florida Gov. Ron DeSantis expressed outrage at The Post’s findings, with a spokeswoman saying: “If the Biden Administration is so confident that their open-border policy is good for our country, why the secrecy?”

“Why is the Biden Administration refusing to share even the most basic information about illegal alien resettlement in communities throughout our state and the entire country?” spokeswoman Christina Pushaw said.

“Washington, DC, sets immigration policies that do not affect them, and states — that lack information about migrant resettlement and do not have the authority to change federal immigration policy — are expected to bear the brunt of Biden’s reckless open-borders agenda.”

On Wednesday, The Post also saw two buses leave the Westchester airport carrying about 100 passengers who arrived on a McDonnell Douglas MD-83.

One bus stopped at the Thomas Edison Service Area off the New Jersey Turnpike in Woodbridge, where the migrants got off around 12:45 a.m. Thursday.

Over the next two hours, they were driven away in cars by people who met them there — without anyone appearing to have to show identification to the officials overseeing the operation.

A woman who lives near the airport told The Post on Monday that a flight arrived there “around 3 or 4” that morning “and it was shaking the house” and awakened her 8-month-old baby boy.  “He’s been waking up for the last month around 2, 3, 4 because of the noise,” she said.

“I got used to the regular airport noise but these planes or jets sound different. Lower, more bass. And they’re coming in the middle of the night!”

The neighbor also said she “can see the airport perfectly from my upstairs” and has noticed “a few buses that say ‘Out of Service’ hanging around” that aren’t the usual county buses or airport shuttles.

And she said the airport has lately been “much darker than usual” overnight.

“I liked the way it looked like a little city — blue and white lights,” she said.

“But since the middle of this summer, they are all off, except one or two of them on the top of the Flexjet hangar … I guess so you can’t see what’s going on.”

Former Westchester County Executive Rob Astorino, a Republican candidate for governor, said he learned about the flights from citizens upset by violations of the voluntary curfew.

The flights have reportedly been happening recently as the Biden administration has been allowing illegal immigrants to stay in the county instead of deporting them. Christopher Sadowski

Astorino said smaller planes apparently began arriving in April, when he said the flights weren’t “as frequent.”

When Astorino held an Aug. 16 news conference at the airport, he said, a flight arrived carrying passengers who got onto a bus that pulled up close to the airstairs and partially blocked the view of the people boarding it.

Astorino said he spotted at least 50 to 75 migrants, most of whom appeared to be men older than 20.

“No one has explained where they’re going and who they are,” he said.

“The Biden administration is systematically spreading the southern border crisis to communities all around the country, often shrouded in secrecy and under the cloak of darkness.”

Meanwhile, a spokeswoman for Democratic Westchester County Executive George Latimer tried to downplay the situation as “nothing new.”

“This is similar to when HHS, under the Trump administration, housed almost 1,000 migrant children in Westchester — without the County’s prior knowledge or approval,” spokeswoman Catherine Cioffi said in a written statement.

“Then, as opposed to now, there was no outcry by anyone.”

The White House insisted Monday that the flights only carry children and teens, and the US Department of Health and Human Services said, “It is our legal responsibility to safely care for unaccompanied children until they can be swiftly unified with a parent or a vetted sponsor.”

“Our Office of Refugee Resettlement facilitates travel for the children in its custody to their family or sponsors across the country,” HHS spokesman Jorge Silva said.

“In recent weeks, unaccompanied children passed through the Westchester airport en route to their final destination to be unified with their parents or vetted sponsor.”

SO MUCH FOR PRESIDENTIAL HONESTY, TRUTHFULNESS AND TRANSPARENCY....

[whentherewerebicycles]

ruthie having an existential crisis about the fact that the weekend is too short and it’s Sunday night already :( anyway here’s tomorrow:

lights out 10:45

up at 7:45

lounge and write 8-9

9-10 shower, breakfast, get ready

10 leave for campus

10:30-11:30 make passage station activity materials, write up instructions + questions, do test run, type up full class agenda, send reminder email

11:30-2 make handout (resources, terms, PS/SOP/CL spectrum, rec letter takeaways, ways to make yourself competitive for grad school if you take a break, typical breakdown of trajectory through PhD, maybe do a short little myth vs reality section if I have time)

2-2:30 go pick up food

2:30-3:30 grant meeting

3:30-4 seminar prep

4-5:30 teach workshop with EL! yay!!!

grab light groceries

walk dogs for an hour

block apps on phone and write for a couple hours god willing

[uk-news-talking-politics]

Free speech proposals are 'Trojan Horse for authoritarianism'

By Ian Dunt

It started, as it often does, with some gibbering nonsense in the Sunday Telegraph. Government briefings to the newspaper revealed that there would be a new two-pronged attack in its 'war on woke' - a phrase so mind-bendingly stupid the brain starts to shrink upon contact with it.

Education secretary Gavin Williamson would be establishing a new position of "free speech champion" at the Office for Students to regulate things like no-platforming. Meanwhile, culture secretary Oliver Dowden would be convening a meeting of 25 leading heritage bodies, including the National Trust and National Lottery Heritage Fund, instructing them to defend British culture and history against the "noisy minority of activists constantly trying to do Britain down".

The problems with the plans are as follows: They are cynical, nonsensical, internally contradictory, functionally implausible and work to perpetuate the exact phenomenon which they claim to undermine.

Much of the critical left-wing coverage of the government's agenda starts with the idea that there is no crisis of free speech. We're told it's weird for adults to be worried about people being no-platformed in university and that commentators being cancelled online is nothing to worry about - it's just a question of publishers deciding who they want to host on their platform.

This is all deeply complacent and misleading. Censorship is not just about the state knocking on your door in the dead of night and carrying you away with a hood over your head. It's also about people silenced by the conformity of the crowd or frozen out of their career because of their unpopular opinions.

Every day you will see people online challenging people's right to talk rather than the arguments they are making. The things they are saying may indeed be unpleasant or objectionable. Of course they will be. It's typically minority views which are subject to censure by the majority. Sometimes they are perfectly reasonable, but have fired-up the targeted outrage of campaigners.

This problem is often portrayed as a left-wing attack on right-wing figures. In fact that is not correct, and it lets the culture war right off the hook. When sports players started taking the knee in a symbolic protest against racism before games in the US, then-president Donald Trump said National Football League owners should fire them. When journalist Sarah Jeong was hired by The New York Times to join its editorial board, conservatives demanded she be sacked because of tweets she had written such as "white men are bullshit". Supporters of Johnny Depp after his recent court case with Amber Heard launched a social media campaign insisting she be dropped from the upcoming Aquaman 2 movie. Free speech is a universal value. And once you degrade it on one side, it'll come up and bite you on the other.

This debate is not some kind of bubble. It plays out within national newspapers. The Guardian and the New York Times have recently had their own struggles with it. And that instinctive opposition to free speech is often nurtured in university, whose graduates feed into the media system. Free speech matters - online, in universities and everywhere else.

But Williamson's plan, if you can call it that, fails on two central points: what it does and who does it.

It would allow individuals to seek compensation through the courts if they suffer a loss from a breach of the free speech rules - for instance if they're demoted or expelled. Consider for a moment what that means. Let's say an academic writes an article promoting Holocaust denial. Is the government's position now that they must be compensated for losing their job? Presumably not. So it is now in the business of deciding which opinions are within the boundaries of free speech in university and which are not. In other words, it is itself the controller and arbiter of valid speech. We have taken a problem which operated at the institutional level and escalated it to the level of the state.

It is not for government to make these decisions. It is for institutions and the people within them. That is where the fight for free speech operates. Not in the corridors of Whitehall.

Once you turn to the other prong of the attack, the free speech argument falls away altogether. Dowden, spurred on by the lip-speckled inanity of the culture war hysterics in the Telegraph and the Spectator, wants to end the 'rewriting of history'. This includes work by organisations like the National Trust highlighting our colonial past, which aggravated the so-called 'Common Sense Group' of Tory MPs, a gang whose only achievement is to have developed a name so embarrassing it stands out even in this period of parliamentary history.

His letter to arts bodies last year insisted that he did not support the removal of statues. Communities secretary Robert Jenrick wants to go a step further and change planning guidance to give himself a veto over their removal.

But history is rewriting. That is what it involves. We constantly reappraise and re-evaluate the past. Statues are not so much a comment on what came before but on what we value today. So a debate on which stay up, which are removed and which are erected literally is free speech. And not just any old bit of free speech, but a central one: the interchange between us as we are now and us as we were then.

The government's position is that this debate can no longer be held. It is therefore crushing free speech as part of its free-speech agenda.

There is pedigree to this kind of government behaviour. It comes not from freedom-lovers but from authoritarians. In Hungary, prime minister Viktor Orban absorbed the independent and well-respected 1956 Institute into the government-run Veritas Historical Research Institute and Archive. He did it for the same reason ministers in the UK are now taking action: because he didn't like the stories they were telling about the past. It didn't fit his narrative. So he silenced them, just as Dowden is trying to silence those heritage bodies.

There is no defence of free speech to be found here. It is an attack on free speech, motivated by right-wing culture warriors. This does more damage than that which is committed simply by its implementation. It consolidates the sense in activist left-wing circles that free speech is not a universal value: it is the Trojan Horse for an attack by reactionaries. It denigrates and corrupts precisely the principle which the government claims to want to uphold.

If ministers gave a damn, they would butt out. But they don't, so they won't. Their real aim is a right-wing cultural attack which undermines freedom of speech. They are as guilty as those online who try to silence their critics. But they are more dangerous, because they have executive power.

[one-abuse-survivor]

reporting from the milky way again :)

yes, i did get the exams and project out of the way (the main reason i worked on the project so much last weekend was because i had to turn it in until sunday night) but right now were in the process of getting all the grades back and tbh i'm less than happy about it. So far i'm not happy about math, physics and chemistry and there'll be even worse grades in geography, german and music.

and my dad did not realize the extent of my struggles and seems to think that i'm just a rebellious teenager or something

i know that my mom will be around tomorrow afternoon and i am planning to talk with her then but that'd be a one-on-one conversation and i'm not sure if i can handle that at the moment but we'll see. i can tell you how it went afterwards.

and i'm really excited for friday bc it's the last day of school this year and afterwards we have a 7 week break and i'll be able to go out for lunch with a friend whom I haven't seen in two years because they moved to the US.

okay so this is milky way again and i wanted to let you know how trying to talk to my mom went

spoiler alert: it was worse than disappointing

i didn't start talking about my suspicions of being neurodivergent because i wanted to see how helpful she'd be first so i just kinda started with how i struggle with concentrating and not getting distracted at school and my sleep issues and that's about as far as i got before i got a feeling of how pointless this was.

the only thing she did was telling me that others have it worse (since i still have above-average grades), that everyone has this kind of existential crisis at some point during their teenager years, that the sleeping and concentration issues are just teenager issues that everyone has and that everyone feels like their struggles are worse than everyone else's even tho most of the time they actually aren't and finally that she can't help me

i of course quickly got the hell out of the room and went to bed (so i can be by myself in my room in the dark with my door closed). on one hand i'm absolutely furious and on the other hand i am disappointed, sad and dejected and i don't really believe myself anymore. seriously, what if she's right? she's had about 40 years more life experience and she was a teenager too at some point so she'd know this kinda thing, wouldn't she? what if i'm just complaining too much and talking over the ones that are actually struggling and can actually prove it with grades and stuff?

i feel a lot worse than i did one hour ago and i should've just not started talking in the first place and i regret it so much because i know this conversation will haunt me for the next week if not more.

i'm just angry angry angry

at myself, at her, at the way she compared me with literally everyone else at my age, at how i'm not sure of myself and at everything

i haven't felt this bad since last november and that was when things got really really bad (suicidal thoughts and self-harm included) and i'm so so scared of being there again because i'm on a 7 month 2 week streak with self-harm and i don't want to have to break it

sorry that this is just me venting and that this is so long

tl;dr i tried talking to my mom, now i'm angry at myself and her and i'm terrified of myself

Hi again ❤ I'm really sorry your grades aren't as good as you wanted them to be and that your dad keeps acting like your struggles are just a teenage rebellious phase and not taking you seriously :( I hope you have a good time with your friend, at least!

I'm so so sorry talking to your mom went so badly. I hope you're feeling slightly better now, but if not, I'm sending you the biggest virtual hug. I know how hard it can be to believe you're actually struggling at first, especially mentally, and I can't even imagine how horrible it must feel to have those fears "proven" by the very people meant to help you and support you when you reach out for help.

She is not right, nonnie, no matter how much she insists she is. First of all, I think there's at least some truth to the idea that teenagers tend to think the world revolves around themselves, and to feel uncomprehended at times. But I also think that's completely understandable. I mean, you're experiencing what it's like not to be a kid anymore for the very first time; you're facing many grown-up problems and feelings for the first time. And all of that while hormones wreak havoc in your system. How are you not meant to be at least a little bit angsty at times? But you know what? That doesn't mean you don't deserve help and guidance from your parents! It is a part of parenting to guide your kids through their teenage problems and to help them deal with emotions and issues they'd never had to face before. So even if she was right, and all you were going through right now was a typical teen existential crisis, you would still need and deserve her guidance and support. And you would still deserve to see a doctor about your struggles with sleep and concentration even if it turned out it was a teenage thing. There is no scenario where you deserve to suffer and push through your struggles alone just because your problems don't come from a serious enough source.

Second of all, grades are not indicative of how much you're struggling. I got some of the best grades in my school during years where I was going through abuse. I know a person who managed to get into a medicine degree with undiagnosed ADHD (and you have to get some really high grades to study medicine here). I also know a person who passed 3/4ths of her uni subjects and graduated university while in a depression so severe she could barely walk. Your grades do not dictate whether you need help.

And third of all, she might be older than you, and I'm sure she had a lot of learning experiences as a teenager herself, but that doesn't mean she knows you better than you know yourself. No one knows you better than you know yourself. No one has experienced all life experiences and gets to decide what other people are or aren't going through. And most importantly, there's always going to be someone who has it "worse" than everyone in this world, but that doesn't mean everyone else doesn't deserve help to manage their struggles. There's no such thing as not struggling enough to deserve help. Either you're not struggling at all, whatsoever, or you are to some extent—and no matter what that extent is, if you feel like you need help with it, then you need help with it. No one gets to tell you you don't.

From what I know, it's not unheard of for neurodivergent people to get told by their parents that their experiences are universal and therfore "not a big deal", and for it to turn out that their parents have some signs of neurodivergence themselves and just never got diagnosed. I of course don't know if that's the case here, but I want you to know that regardless of her reasons to tell you your experiences are universal—whether she also went through that and never had it acknowledged or she's saying it to gaslight you and make you question yourself—her behaviour is still neglectful. And you deserved so much better than to be made to feel like you're making things up, exaggerating and talking over others when all you did was ask for help with your personal struggles.

Sending a giant hug your way ❤️

[newstfionline]

Monday, April 5, 2021

Coming out of the cave: As life creeps back, some feel dread (AP) Dinner reservations are gleefully being made again. Long-canceled vacations are being booked. People are coming together again, in some of the ways they used to. But not everyone is racing back. For some, even small tasks outside the home—a trip to the grocery store, or returning to the office—can feel overwhelming. Psychologists call it re-entry fear, and they’re finding it more common as headlines herald the imminent return to post-pandemic life. “I have embraced and gotten used to this new lifestyle of avoidance that I can’t fathom going back to how it was. I have every intention of continuing to isolate myself,” says Thomas Pietrasz, who lives alone and works from his home in the Chicago suburbs as a content creator. Pietrasz says his anxiety has grown markedly worse as talk of post-vaccine life grows. He says he got used to “hiding at home and taking advantage of curbside and delivery in order to avoid every situation with people.”

Vaccine passports are latest flash point in COVID politics (AP) Vaccine passports being developed to verify COVID-19 immunization status and allow inoculated people to more freely travel, shop and dine have become the latest flash point in America’s perpetual political wars, with Republicans portraying them as a heavy-handed intrusion into personal freedom and private health choices. They currently exist in only one state—a limited government partnership in New York with a private company—but that hasn’t stopped GOP lawmakers in a handful of states from rushing out legislative proposals to ban their use. Vaccine passports are typically an app with a code that verifies whether someone has been vaccinated or recently tested negative for COVID-19. They are in use in Israel and under development in parts of Europe. But lawmakers around the country are already taking a stand against the idea. “We have constitutional rights and health privacy laws for a reason,” said Pennsylvania House Majority Leader Kerry Benninghoff, a Republican. “They should not cease to exist in a time of crisis. These passports may start with COVID-19, but where will they end?” Benninghoff said this week his concern was “using taxpayer money to generate a system that will now be, possibly, in the hands of mega-tech organizations who’ve already had problems with getting hacked and security issues.”

Facebook data on more than 500M accounts found online (AP) Details from more than 500 million Facebook users have been found available on a website for hackers. The information appears to be several years old, but it is another example of the vast amount of information collected by Facebook and other social media sites, and the limits to how secure that information is. The availability of the data set was first reported by Business Insider. According to that publication, it has information from 106 countries including phone numbers, Facebook IDs, full names, locations, birthdates, and email addresses. Facebook has been grappling with data security issues for years.

In Myanmar, Easter eggs a symbol of defiance for anti-coup protesters (Reuters) Opponents of military rule in Myanmar inscribed messages of protest on Easter eggs on Sunday while others were back on the streets, facing off with the security forces after a night of candle-lit vigils for hundreds killed since a Feb. 1 coup. In the latest in a series of impromptu shows of defiance, messages including “We must win” and “Get out MAH”—referring to junta leader Min Aung Hlaing—were seen on eggs in photographs on social media. Young people in the main city of Yangon handed out eggs bearing the messages of protest, pictures in posts showed.

With Swarms of Ships, Beijing Tightens Its Grip on South China Sea (NYT) The Chinese ships settled in like unwanted guests who wouldn’t leave. As the days passed, more appeared. They were simply fishing boats, China said, though they did not appear to be fishing. Dozens even lashed themselves together in neat rows, seeking shelter, it was claimed, from storms that never came. Not long ago, China asserted its claims on the South China Sea by building and fortifying artificial islands in waters also claimed by Vietnam, the Philippines and Malaysia. Its strategy now is to reinforce those outposts by swarming the disputed waters with vessels, effectively defying the other countries to expel them. The goal is to accomplish by overwhelming presence what it has been unable to do through diplomacy or international law. And to an extent, it appears to be working. “Beijing pretty clearly thinks that if it uses enough coercion and pressure over a long enough period of time, it will squeeze the Southeast Asians out,” said Greg Poling, the director of the Asia Maritime Transparency Initiative at the Center for Strategic and International Studies in Washington, which tracks developments in the South China Sea. “It’s insidious.”

Nearly 20 arrested in alleged plot against Jordan’s King Abdullah II (Washington Post) Jordanian authorities on Saturday arrested as many as 20 people and sought to restrain the movement of a former crown prince amid what officials called a threat to the “security and stability” of a country long regarded as a vital U.S. ally in the Middle East. Prince Hamzeh bin Hussein, the eldest son of the late King Hussein and his American-born fourth wife, Queen Noor, was told to remain at his Amman palace amid an investigation into an alleged plot to unseat his older half brother, King Abdullah II, according to a senior Middle Eastern intelligence official briefed on the events. The move followed the discovery of what officials described as a complex and far-reaching plot that included at least one other Jordanian royal as well as tribal leaders and members of the country’s political and security establishment. One official cited unspecified evidence of “foreign” backing for the plan. Biden administration officials were briefed on the arrests, which come at a time of heightened economic and political tension in a country long regarded as a bulwark of stability and an essential partner in U.S.-led counterterrorism operations.

Cairo’s mummies get a new home. And a grand procession on the way. (Washington Post) It was a parade unlike any other this city has seen. A procession of 22 ancient Egyptian royal mummies streamed Saturday from downtown Cairo, where revolutionaries rose up to topple autocrat Hosni Mubarak a decade ago, to a new museum three miles away that represents Egypt’s future as much as its past. At 8 p.m., the mummies—18 kings and four queens—left the famed ochre-hued Egyptian Museum near Tahrir Square, where they had rested for decades. They were each atop specially decorated gold-and-blue-hued vehicles resembling boats. Or perhaps the symbol of a winged sun, an ornament worn by Egypt’s ancient rulers and seen as providing protection. Each of the 22 vehicles was emblazoned with the name of the royal mummy it carried. The multimillion-dollar affair—called the Pharaohs’ Golden Parade—had been promoted for months. Egyptian authorities are seeking to attract tourists, a key source of foreign currency, and alter the course of an economy battered by the coronavirus pandemic, Islamist attacks and political chaos in past years. The highly choreographed ceremony was also a nationalist vehicle to highlight Egypt’s place in history. The nation’s authoritarian president, Abdel Fatah al-Sissi, who himself is often referred to as “a new pharaoh” for his ambitious projects and iron-fisted rule, presided over the ceremony.

Confronting late-stage pandemic burnout (NYT) Like many of us, the writer Susan Orlean is having a hard time concentrating these days. “Good morning to everyone,” she tweeted recently, “but especially to the sentence I just rewrote for the tenth time.” “I feel like I’m in quicksand,” she explained by phone from California, where she has been under quasi-house arrest for the last year. “I’m just so exhausted all the time. I’m doing so much less than I normally do—I’m not traveling, I’m not entertaining, I’m just sitting in front of my computer—but I am accomplishing way less. It’s like a whole new math. I have more time and fewer obligations, yet I’m getting so much less done.” Call it a late-pandemic crisis of productivity, of will, of enthusiasm, of purpose. Whatever you call it, it has left many of us feeling like burned-out husks, dimwitted approximations of our once-productive selves. “Malaise, burnout, depression and stress—all of those are up considerably,” said Todd Katz, executive vice president and head of group benefits at MetLife. The company’s most recent Employee Benefit Trends Study, conducted in December and January, found that workers across the board felt markedly worse than they did last April. The study was based in part on interviews with 2,651 employees. In total, 34 percent of respondents reported feeling burned out, up from 27 percent last April. Twenty-two percent said they were depressed, up from 17 percent last April, and 37 percent said they felt stressed, up from 34 percent.

[saddayfordemocracy]

On Sunday, Belarus–overseen for over a quarter-century by a brutal imbecile named Alexander Lukashenko–hosted its latest version of what could loosely be called an “election.” 

These ersatz plebiscites have long been perfunctory functions that typically end in Lukashenko gaining yet another term in office, the better to continue smothering the independent press, peaceful protesters, and opposition figures alike. 

Since ascending to the presidency in 1994, Lukashenko, an unreconstructed Soviet man if there ever was one, has largely succeeded in cementing his power in Minsk and in overseeing a suffocating dictatorship over a swatch of Eastern Europe tha hosted the final days of the Soviet Union.

This time around, however, there was a hitch. Where Lukashenko could previously point to economic stability–buttressed in large part by Puttin’s hydrocarbon-funded subsidies–the global oil crunch has kneecapped Lukashenko’s reliable Moscow benefactors, putting paid to the notion that the Belarusian strongman could alone guarantee Belarus’s economic fortunes. 

Meanwhile, Lukashenko, cocooned in his increasingly farcical world of enablers and yes-men, mishandled the coronavirus outbreak in a way that would make even Donald Trump blanch. Not only did Lukashenko claim that the coronavirus was itself as a hoax and a “psychosis,” but he further mused that a vodka-and-sauna regimen would be enough to combat the disease. (Little surprise that Lukashenko is one of the few world leaders to have caught the disease thus far.)

Those twin realities, the economic downturn and the cascading coronavirus crisis, were enough of an impetus for a long dormant and oft-beleaguered opposition movement to begin to stir. When a number of opposition figures burst onto the political scene–ranging from former regime insiders to YouTube bloggers to businessmen disgusted by Lukashenko’s mismanagement–Lukashenko turned to a familiar playbook, blaming their rise on “foreign forces” and proceeding to jail them on fabricated charges. But Lukashenko misjudged the country he spent decades battering. New voices–especially that of Svetlana Tikhanovskaya, the wife of jailed YouTuber Sergei Tikhanovsky–entered the fray and picked up the baton of opposition. Lukashenko’s old tricks suddenly faltered and failed.

Buoyed by a post-Soviet generation exhausted with Lukashenko’s viciousness, Sunday’s vote was the most significant election in Belarus’s short history. To win it, Lukashenko deployed all his favorite forms of vote-rigging: outright ballot-stuffing, bought-off “election monitors,” and security forces bloodying protesters. Every trick of the post-Soviet dictator trade was employed. It still wasn’t enough. With Lukashenko declaring a ridiculous 80 percent return on the vote (the vote share that Tikhanovskaya likely earned for herself, if not more), he was the spark that lit the fire that followed.

On Sunday night, that conflagration consumed the country. Incredible footage showed Minsk transformed from a sleepy post-Soviet metropole to one with more foot traffic, and more protesters, than it had ever known. Brave Belarusians walked directly up to the armored personnel carriers and armed police goons blocking the boulevards. Peaceful protesters massed to demand authentic ballot returns. Unarmed voters gathered in blocs, marching to demand transparency, authenticity, and a government that reflected their will.

Belarus remains in a holding pattern. The prevailing social contract, in which Lukashenko retains power in return for economic and socio-political stability, is clearly fractured, perhaps beyond repair. What comes next is anyone’s guess. Lukashenko might cede ground, as we saw in Armenia in 2018, allowing a new generation to rise. He could attempt to cling to power in a manner similar to Ukraine in 2014, in which an aging and rattled despot loses grip while the country devolves into violence and successful overthrow, with a nearby Russia pawing and probing for ways to invade. Or he could go a separate, more horrific route and begin gunning down protesters à la Uzbekistan circa 2005–a solution at which Lukashenko has already terrifyingly hinted.

Whatever comes next in Belarus, Lukashenko’s illiberal gyrations highlight the parameters of modern dictatorship and the depths to which despotic figures will sink in order to retain power. Lukashenko’s ludicrous claim that he won more than three-quarters of Belarusians’ votes illuminates how, and why, modern dictators routinely inflate returns to ridiculous sums. Not only does it allow them to signal strength to wobbling elites, as well as potential external actors (like Russia) eyeing potential territorial gains, but it further illustrates that the regime can blatantly implement fraud and pay no consequences. However, it’s also a means of signaling–as with all of the widespread voter suppression, voter intimidation, and vote manipulation–to the opposition that they remain beaten, battered, and beleaguered.

More broadly, Lukashenko’s efforts highlight just how much his brand of dictatorial misrule has infected regimes both near and far. After all, it’s no longer quite fair to describe Lukashenko as the “last dictator of Europe.” Vladimir Putin in Russia and Ilham Aliyev in Azerbaijan help round out Europe’s dictatorial claque, with Hungary’s Victor Orban eyeing potential entry into their ranks. 

For every successful European anti-authoritarian revolution–in Ukraine, in Georgia–a regime elsewhere picked up the slack, carrying the dark torch of dictatorship well into the twenty-first century.

[noreasonjustbored]

You Can Never Run Fast Enough

Part 2:

Okay so...I wasn’t planning on making this more than a one shot. But, I recently fixed my phone that has been broken for like six months and found half an update to this story. Since a lot was done already, it was relatively easier to work on this than some of my other stuff. Ahem. FIFLWM.

I know that literally no one has asked for this recently and I understand if you don’t want to read since it’s been so long. That’s why I’m not tagging anyone.

Anyways, most of this was written before we knew Jack Swagger existed and also I don’t accept him as a real thing so yeah. I hope you like it. I’m gonna link the first part so you know what the heck I’m talking about.

Part 1

Also, please comment. I really need some motivation to continue writing. And don’t be afraid to talk to me. Send me stuff you want to see or ask me questions or anything. I’m trying to make some more friends. Seriously. 😂

Over the next couple of days Henry saw Jacob everywhere. He was always a step behind Charlotte, like an aggravating shadow.

Since Henry had accepted his feelings for his best friend, he actually wanted to be around her again. He needed to find out if his affections were returned. But these days he couldn’t get her alone because Jacob was constantly around.

Before, Henry was afraid that they were spending too much time together, now they couldn’t even get a second to themselves.

Jacob had started picking Charlotte up for school, he ate lunch at their table, he walked her to class and he dropped her off to work at Junk N’ Stuff. The dude just wouldn’t go away. He was doing all the things that Henry used to do with her. It was like he was his replacement.

At lunch, Jacob and Charlotte were talking about politics. Henry was ignoring them. Usually Jasper was there to make that task a little easier by distracting him but for some reason he wasn’t eating lunch with them today.

Right now, it was extra difficult for Henry not to pay them any mind. Simply because of how they were sitting; Jacob had his arm slung over Charlotte’s shoulder and she was leaning into his side. They looked super cozy.

Henry hated it. That position was grating on his psyche. The sight of it was making his left eye twitch uncontrollably and it was taking all of his willpower not to say something rude.

While clenching his jaw and fantasizing about beating Jacob up in an alley, he heard someone calling his name.

“Hen” Charlotte said.

“Uh, Yeah?” he broke from his violent thoughts.

“What is wrong with you? You look angry.”

“Oh, nothing. Just thinking about an annoyance that I can’t seem to get rid of lately” Henry stated while glaring straight at Jacob.

“Well you look constipated” Jacob gave his unwanted opinion.

“Thanks, that’s the look I was going for” he answered sarcastically.

Looking at Charlotte “Hey where’s Jasper?” Henry asked, changing the subject.

“He told me that there was some kind of bucket crisis so he called an emergency meeting for the Bucketeers.”

“Huh. He is never going to be normal, is he?”

“Signs point to no.”

“Gotta love him anyway.”

“True. Where do you think he would be without us?”

“On fire.”

That made her laugh because it was semi plausible. She loved Jasper but... bless his heart. Hearing Charlotte laugh never failed to make Henry laugh too so he joined in. Soon their laughter faded and now they were just smiling while looking at each other.

This nice friendship moment was interrupted by Jacob obnoxiously clearing his throat to get Charlotte’s attention.

“So Char…”

Charlotte winced. No one really called her that besides Henry. Even Jasper rarely used the nickname.

“Yes?” Charlotte asked while glancing at Henry before turning her attention to Jacob.

“I was hoping that maybe you’d want to go out with me on Saturday night?” he questioned.

“Sorry, she can’t.” Henry abruptly interrupted whatever response that Charlotte was going to give. He wasn’t thinking, he just knew that he couldn’t let Charlotte go on a date with this guy.

What if she like him more than me?

“I can’t?” Charlotte said as she gives Henry a puzzled look.

“Yeah we have that training at work, remember?”

“No, I don’t remember. Did Ray forget to tell me?”

“Probably. You know Ray doesn’t really like you” Henry answers, taking the out.

“Ok then. What about Sunday?” Taylor plowed forward undeterred.

“She can’t do Sunday either. Weekend training dude” Henry quipped. Again, before Charlotte could say anything.

“Alright. How about this, you text me when you are available and I’ll make it work” Jacob told Charlotte while standing up with his tray.

“Yeah, I’ll let you know.”

“Good. I’ll be waiting for your response” he said then walked away without another look in Henry’s direction.

“I’ll be waiting for your response” Henry mocked in a nasally voice under his breath.

“What was that?” Charlotte asked nonchalantly even though she heard him.

“Hm?”

She rolls her eyes. “Never mind. Do we actually have training this weekend or did you make that up because you don’t like Jacob?”

“What makes you think I don’t like the guy?”

“Oh I don’t know, maybe it’s the way you look at him like he stepped on your last gumball and there’s no time to get a new tube?”

“Pshhh. That isn’t exactly true.”

“Whatever Henry, do we have training this weekend or not?”

“Well...” he starts high-pitched, in typical Henry fashion.

Charlotte gathers her trash and stands up. “Unbelievable.”

“Wait, I’m sorry I just-”

“You just what? Hate it when I finally get some attention from the opposite sex? Like you’re the only one that people can see in a romantic light?” she interrogated him in a slightly raised voice.

“I mean you’ve never had a boyfriend but-”

“Are you kidding me Henry? Why can’t you just be supportive? I was there for you when you ran through every Chloe, Bianca and Heather in Swellview. I’m only asking for a little reciprocity.”

Henry was stunned. She was practically yelling at him now and people in their immediate vicinity were started to look in their direction. In their entire friendship he can’t remember Charlotte EVER being this mad at him. He was at a loss for words.

“Char...” he manages remorsefully.

“I don’t want to hear it Hart. Talk to me when you grow up” she says with an air of finality as she leaves the cafeteria.

Henry groans while running both hands over his face in frustration.

Wow. I really fucked that up.