#having new bad realizations. do u understand how privileged I am if I tell u I've never had these thoughts before

[spocks-kaathyra]

really nothing more detestable than a coward

[ilbound]

Rufus has oft’ told her that he did not figure himself for the mysterious , charmingly provocative individual he once was when he had the world eating from his palm ( just as she once did , standing there to contest his power at every turn ) .  But his response is nettling and s t r a n g e all the same.  So perhaps , he’s not lost his touch after all.  Most especially not when his fingers lift and fix themselves to her chin , neverminding the obvious cold of her glimmering skin.

Eases the mind , huh ?  Now WHAT could he mean by that ?  Is it a simple gratitude he’s offering , or … Something e l s e ?  For all the time in her old position Verona spent with people ( studying them , understanding their desires , fulfilling their needs ) , Rufus never failed to topple her just a bit off balance each time she began to get closer to knowing him.

Painted lips part , ready to respond , but her words die off in a huff when the door swings open suddenly as Reno lets himself in ( again ) .  Nothing new , she knows , all the Turks had this privilege alongside Rufus.  At the very least , it made things more … Exciting ( & more intrusive ) .  At least the queer tension ‘tween the two of them is broken , she can thank Reno for that much.

Seeing Rufus to the door , watching him disappear , her gaze shifts to Reno.  Verona is hardly surprised by his words and , rolling her eyes , leaves him slouched there in the doorway with little more than a dismissive wave of her clawed hand.  ❝ Yes , yes I KNOW all this !  You - each one of you , might I add - have made such a point abundantly clear. ❞  There’s no frustration in her voice , more a tinge of exhaustion for having the same goddamn conversation.  ❝ Frankly , I am not sure what the issue is.  I actually find myself quite easy to trust. ❞ Says this knowing full-well what the source of the Turks’ despondence is ; she’s the reason their boss is dying quicker than he should.  Even so , things would likely be more p e a c e f u l if they could all just find some simple HARMONY with each other.

Pouring herself a drink , making a motion in question to see if he wants one as well , Verona continues , ❝ And do you realize how bad his addiction is , Reno ?  Surely you’ve looked into it.  Therefore you must already know that even if I pull him off the drug it would not dispute the fact he’d sink into a withdrawal that might seriously h a r m him in his weakened state. ❞  Talking pointedly , CLINICALLY , to get the idea across.  She points at him with a single claw , stepping towards him , her voice a sinister growl through the bite of sharp teeth , ❝ Do not ever accuse me of NOT wanting to help nor NOT caring for that man. ❞  Verona swallows her agitation as she takes a drink from her glass , speaking again in a calmer tone , ❝ If you’ve come here accosting me over such a thing , then tell me : Do you even have a plan for this to work ?  Have you even spoken to him about it ? ❞

strywoven​:

continued. // @ivory-paragon

Once in a while the question returns : do you miss who you were , do you miss your old life despite all it entailed ?  Where this might have given Verona pause – in the beginning – now , now she understands that she does n o t miss much of her old self / her old livelihood at all.  Though , being a ‘ reformed artisan and musician ’ is likely not nearly as exciting ( nor as lucrative ) as being the all-powerful matriarch of a large criminal organization.  She supposes it may well be better this way ; she can look after Rufus and he , in one way or another , can attend to her ( in only a way as a secret companion could ) .  Or rather , he can be the weary-hearted voice of reason to ensure she is maintaining her GOOD BEHAVIOR .

So he does remember— Verona wonders if it is a pleasant enough memory for him as it is for her.  She looks back on it fondly , despite how they were intended to be on opposite sides of the field ; meant to be ENEMIES in a long line of bad-blood.  Yet , here they are now , something else entirely.

❝ Not exactly blind anymore is it ? ❞  She counters , loosely crossing her arms , closing the distance of the room to stand with him by the window.  ❝ We already did that the first time , technically. ❞

The question – is the spark gone ? – catches her by surprise.  She considers it , considers the two of them , not so unlike two sides of THE SAME COIN ever in rotation , perhaps doomed to reflect each other ( this , a symptom of his father’s making ) .  Finally , Verona shakes her head , the motion tussling loose blonde curls , ❝ No , ❞ There’s little hesitation in the single word.  ❝ I believe it may have a chance to burn … If we gave it the chance. ❞  Now that they h a d the chance at all , that is ( question then being : would they take it ? ) .  ❝ And you ?  Would the spark be gone for you ? ❞

Spark.

What even gave him that anymore? There is a moment to reflect, though it takes but a second before a smile returns to his face. These days, he finds himself using facial muscles far more than he ever did back when he was within the iron city walls. Maybe it was just the dopamine twisting inside his veins and tantalizing the pleasure zone in his mind, all provided by her.

“Oh.. the spark is never gone.” It was true in that regard; she was unlike anyone he had ever crossed paths with. Businessmen and women alike had a common denominator, and their controlling factor waned before long, leaving their empires in ruins. One could be said about him, though instead of looking out towards the dull melancholy skyscape of Edge, he found possibilities around every corner, one of them being her.

His Turks, on the other hand, thought differently. They felt like she was a viper, slowly seeping venom into their Master’s body daily. Though he had come to terms with his morality, he insisted on injecting poison into his body to survive. Now she was living in their building and breathing the same air as them.

Leaning over, he lightly grasped the base of her chin between his fingers. “It eases the mind that you’re here.” They both had the drive to watch over one another, both figuring their role was more prominent in it all. At that moment, Reno knocked on the door entering as if he owned the place. Rufus had given the Turks access to her flat under the stipulation that they needed access to protect her directly. Reno, however, liked to abuse such privileges.

“Heyo, we got some dude outside the antique store wantin’ to take a peek in. Thinks he sees somethin’ that once belonged to him or whatever. Probably some con artist but yanno.” The redhead ended by shoving his hands into his pockets, glaring at Verona before shifting his attention to Rufus.

These days you could never be too trusting with random strangers that stalked up to the door. Rufus screened them ahead of time while Elena tended to them- anything to keep her busy. With his thumb still at the base of her chin, he softly caressed the edge before heading to the door where Reno stood. 

Reno moved to the side to allow him to pass, though his eyes were still fixated on Verona. Once Rufus was out of earshot, he made sure to let the words flow that was at the tip of his tongue. “Yanno.. we don’t trust ya and you keep poisoning him. Do you want him to die? Those veins in his arms are ‘bout ready to collapse. If you care 'bout him… do something 'bout it.” He said with a huff, keeping his hands inside his pocket in the usual slouching stature he was known for.

[mochees]

"𝗶 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗜𝗜"

-> headcanons, how they tell you they love you for the first time, part two!

characters: sakusa, iwaizumi, x fem!reader

warnings: fem reader, ✨healthy relationships✨, oikawa being oikawa

wc: 3.6K

a/n: WOAH okay uh did NOT expect that last set to be that popular,,,, y'all thirsty for love huh? me too anyway i thought id do a part two since i honestly really enjoyed writing the first set and my brain is vibrating with ✨thoughts✨ and seeing how much love it got really made me feel how i haven't felt in so long, so thank you! maybe ill turn this into a series so lemme know if u wanna see someone specific👀👀😏 also sorry for like posting and then dipping again lmao thats just my social media brand i have the attention span of a fucking worm

read part 1 here!

Sakusa Kiyoomi

okok i know its like common for sakusa to be shown as not interested in PDA (in private or public) unless hes feeling "needy"

BUT i believe that after a few weeks, maybe months if he's still unsure, he would definitely be much more comfortable with PDA

like, if its been a long time and your both serious about it and not just in a relationship to be in a relationship he starts to notice your routine

he notices the changes you make so that he's comfortable and so that you can be close to him without him being worried about icky yicky germy wormys (someone take away my thought privileges)

so now that he knows that you take care of your hygiene and exactly what you do for it, slowly he's wrapping an arm around you in 30° heat while you're both sweating

slowly he's "forgetting" his mask in the car for dates

slowly, but surely, he understands that a little bit of exposure, isn't a bad thing.

"kiyoomi?" your voice brought sakusa's eyes to yours where he could see the concern behind them.

"are you okay y/n?"

you'd decided, after three weeks of intense training and barely seeing your boyfriend, that you wanted just one day and one night with him. just the two of you, you know he'd never admit it, but he needed a break.

after atsumu decided to try out some new plays that didn't start off to well, sakusa had been silently groaning everytime he had to reach for something. he was excellent at making sure he wasn't overworking himself, and he wasn't, its just that the human body is an absolute wonder, and not in a good way. sometimes things that should have mildly injured you, left you with a tiny scrape, or a bruise or a very quick-to-fade red mark, and sometimes you drop a phone on your face and break your fucking jaw.

you offer him a gentle smile that completely washes away the concern in your eyes.

"im fine omi! but you," you reach your hands up to rest on both sides of his face turning his head side to side, studying it intensly.

"you're looking a little pale. and possibly grey."

"how do you mean y/n-chan?"

for such an intelligent man sometimes he really could be a himbo.

"i mean that i think you might be sick, baby."

sakusa stared blankly at you, as if he couldn't fathom the possibility of 'himself, sick?'

"omi? kiyoomi!" you nabbed his attention, "i think you're sick, and we best go home."

"but-" he started, but you were quick to cut him off knowing exactly what he was about to say.

"kiyoomi, it's inevitable. even if you were the worlds most decked out with ppe, and the worlds leading force in hygeine, you'd still end up catching a cold at least once. that's just how the world works baby. and don't worry about the date, all i want is to spend some time with you."

you ended up practically dragging your sad little puppy of a boyfriend back up the complex stairs and into his unit before settling him on the couch and getting to work.

"ill get you some water, you just sit here and relax. i don't want to think about what would happen if those dumbasses didnt have you there next week, bokuto and hinata would probably crack their skulls!" your attempt at a little light hearted humour helped sakusa forget for a moment, but he was quick to go back to not understanding how he was sick.

"thank you." he took the glass from your hand and rested it between his legs, when he noticed the rubber gloves you had clutched at your side. he knew what they were for, those were his cleaning gloves.

"what are you doing? you can't stay you'll..." he paused. "you'll get sick too."

"i'll be fine omi-omi! you just relax and drink lots of water, ill take care of this." you turned towards the wall with a soft smile before muttering, "ill take care of you."

sakusa watched you clean, the bucket full of diluted bleach, the duster, a cloth, and his cleaning gloves. he loved the way that they were too big for you, the way you kept having to pull them up every so often to keep them on. he loved the way that everytime he finished his glass of water, you were right there to fill it back up.

you don't even remember seeing, or hearing him lift himself from his spot on the couch and make his way over to where you were humming and covering the counters in the diluted solution. you felt a pair of big arms wrap around you, a chin on your shoulder and a kiss on your cheek.

"thank you, y/n. i love you."

thank god he caught a cold, or he might never have realized just how lucky he was.

Iwaizumi Hajime

family man

is a family man but not just ANY family man

yes, it's important to him that you like and respect his parents and vice versa

but its just slightly more important to him that you get along with his friends, his found family because im a SUCKER for the classic lilo n stitch trope

he knows that many people say that its his life and he doesn't need anyones approval etc.

but iwaizumi believes different, he believes that he doesn't need approval in the literal sense but rather approval through watching you interact with his friends and his family and how you do your best to learn about them and make time for them, even though you dont have to

and he thinks it's absolutely enthralling

the way your eyes light up when you see that book his mom has been talking about wanting to read and picking it up with no hesitation

how you're able to almost flawlessly keep up with issei and takahiro's antics while also making sure they don't go too far, something even iwaizumi struggles with

and most importantly, how effortlessly you connect with his childhood best friend.

there were many things that Iwaizumi Hajime enjoyed, volleyball, athletics, godzilla of course, spending time with three dumbasses (but he’ll never admit that) and a little while ago, he added you to that list.

you were so effortlessly able to connect with his team, his friends, and his family but most importantly, the way you were able to connect with Oikawa brought a smile to his face.

“oh, iwa-chan~, what are you admiring?” there he went again, Iwa thought, Tohru Oikawa’s dumb smirk and hyper awareness of his team, both on and off court. how he wated to head-butt him in the face. but, he showed restraint. after all, he wouldn’t want loserkawa to use you as a human shield from his head. so, he ignored the urge. but it passed as soon as he saw tohrus arm arond your shoulders, crossed feet and leaning on you ever so slightly while he took a few occasional swigs from his water.

and just like that, the incredible restraint vanished like morning mist.

you could practically see the steam coming off of his hot skin, and the vein popping out of his forehead, when you noticed what had him so heated. “trashykawa get your filthy hands off of my girlfriend!”

“excuse me!” he pouted, “my hands are clean and tailored! just like any responsible setters would be!” he stuck his lip out farther and gave you his irresistable puppy-dog eyes. “y/n-chan, i’m not filthy! am i?” he whined.

and, as the word suggests, his look was truly irresistable and you stumbled over your words. “n-no! of course not tohru!”

“see, iwa-chan! y-n thinks i’m squeaky clean!” his dumb smirk appeared again, and rather than continue with flirtykawas obvious games, Iwa opted for the less violen approach.

“don’t flatter yourself, dirtykawa. she’s just being nice.” he growled. “I’m done for the day, i have a project due. y-n.” he offered his hand to you like the gentleman he is not forcing you to take it, but the look in his eyes told you that he wanted you too.

“see you later, tohru!” you gave him a quick hug and intertwined your fingers with iwa’s.

now, technically, girls aren’t allowed in the boys locker room but since it’s after hours and just you and iwaizumi no one cared. to be fair though, literally no one knew except the team so, whatever you didn’t complain you got to watch yout ultra ripped boyfriend change. quality time. you thought, when you noticed him mid-change with his shirt over his head, resting on his arms. as any good girlfriend would, despite the devil on your shoulder, you came up behind him placing your hands on his seriously broad shoulders. taking notice of the tension, you started to work at the muscles. your care was quickly rewarded with a quiet sigh, and relaxed shoulders.

“hajime?” you continued rubbing at the tight fibers, “are you alright? you’re usually the one telling me im holding too much tension.” you giggled and he turned to face you placing one hand against the side of your face.

“hajime?” it came out shaky and worried.

“i’m okay,” he smiled “it’s just,” hesitation. he was never one to hesitate.

“i know i have no right to be but seeing oikawa so clingy with you it just, i dont know, it really gets to me i guess? he, just, he gets all the girls, all the attention, and i don’t want to-” you stopped him.

“sweetheart, it’s okay to be jealous or upset i’m not going to be angry, you have a right to your feelings. I understand how you feel, i never mean to flirt with him, if i ever have, i mean i don’t know, you know how bad of a flirt i am,” he chuckles at that. “it’s just that i know how important he is to you and you are so, so important to me and i want to be able to understand whats important to you, so you never have to choose between us, because that wouldn’t be fair. i love you, hajime iwaizumi, and everything about you.”

you expected him to be shocked, hell, he thought he would be shocked when or if you said it, but he wasn’t. and that’s exactly how he knew what to say next.

“i love you too, y/n l/n.” pressing a soft kiss against your lips.

“geez, it only took you two a century and forever.” someone snarked.

hajime chucked a towel at him “get out assykawa!” and he did, he bolted through the door laughing like the demon matchmaker he thought he was.

© sacchanwrites, 2021

do not repost, copy, or claim.

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[ndaromant1c]

This is very random, and I'm very new to Tumblr, but I just wanna say this bc i just have to let it out of my system already. I'm so tired of how ppl who don't have ADHD perceive it:

I'm tired of not being able to talk about my ADHD irl bc if i do, ppl will just say I'm complaining/making things up/blaming everything on my disorder/making a big deal out of it.

I'm tired of not being able to talk about it even on the fucking media; tired of being so scared to even as much as MENTION words like "disability" "oppression" "ableism" "minority", bc no one acknowledges all of these words are so very related to ADHD. Yes, we are a minority. Yes, we experience ableism and oppression.

I'm tired of always mentioning my "privilege" whenever i talk about my disability, and minimalizing my own emotions and struggles bc god forbid I'll talk about my issues without someone commenting "but other ppl have it worse".

I'm tired of never being mentioned in conversations about diversity. It's time ppl realize diversity isn't just POC and LGBTQ+, it's also neurodivercity. U can't preach about the importance of "inclusion" and "diversity" when u literally erase and ignore us during those kinds of conversations.

I'm tired of the lack in representation on the media.

I'm tired of being EXCLUDED even when we ARE being represented in the media (I'm looking at u new percy jackson series. The actor should be neurodivergent.)

I'm tired of ppl gatekeeping. I'm tired of neurotypicals bulling. I'm tired of being dismissed, invalidated, gaslighted and silenced.

I'm tired of being so ignored, never being mentioned.

I'm tired of the trauma so many ppl with adhd go through, getting ignored.

I'm tired of ADHD being referred to as a "diet autism", and CONSTANTLY being compared to autism. ADHD is its own disability, and it shouldn't be compared to other disabilities/seem like "less of a version".

I'm tired of being told I'm not rly disabled. I am.

I'm tired feeling like I'm not "disabled enough".

I'm tired of being "neurotypical- passing", simply bc i have adhd.

I'm tired of never being taken seriously. Ever.

I'm tired of neurotypical ppl self diagnosing themselves over dumb, romanticised memes (if you self diagnose, do an ACTUAL research before. Don't rely on memes).

I'm tired of "either ppl with adhd need to stop being so relateable, or i need to see a doctor"- I'm so sorry my disability is so "relateable" to you /s.

I'm tired of neurotypicals telling US how to feel when we get dissed.

I'm tired of ableism regarding to ADHD being dismissed, we experience sm ableism on the daily. Acknowledge this.

I'm tired of feeling bad whenever i see someone from a different minority having a hard time, and then feeling guilty for struggling bc "they have it sm harder than me, and I should stop feeling so sorry for myself".

I'm tired of being called lazy, dumb, weird etc....

I'm tired of stigmas and stereotypes. So fucking tired.

I'm tired of the first thought being associated with ADHD is "can't focus, can't sit still disorder". It's so much more than that.

I'm tired of ppl calling it a mental illness. I'm not ill. There's nothing wrong with it.

I'm tired of toxic positivity. No I'm not lucky, nor blessed. I didn't ask for this disorder. It's hard, and i refuse to look at it as just a "gift". It can be such a curse sometimes.

I'm tired of "we all do this"- if we all did this, i wouldn't be sitting here, crying, because I can't seem to function like a normal, stable person.

I'm tired of being blamed for my symptoms.

I'm tired of ppl complaining how much of a burden i am, I'm sorry it's hard for you to live with me, but as the person diagnosed with this shit, trust me, it's even harder to live with myself.

I'm tired of ADHD being described and diagnosed according to how much of an inconvenience we are to neurotypicals.

I'm tired of "you're too sensitive" "it's not a big deal".

I'm tired of living in a world designed for neurotypicals, and when i can't seem to function like one, i get backlash for it.

I'm tired of masking.

I'm tired of neurotypicals telling me to stop masking and "just be myself". I get bullied, and treated like shit for "being myself".

I'm tired of never being enough, but always being "too much".

I'm tired of so SO many more things.

Why is it so hard to understand that we exist, and we struggle too?

ADHD is a disability. ADHD is a struggle. ADHD is real, and I'm so fucking sick and tired of ppl saying otherwise.

Sorry for the long vent, it just had to be said. (If u have anything to add -and I'm CERTAIN u do- pls add it). Also sorry for typos :/

[jasperwhitcock]

equinox | chapter 07 –– “a cruel god, a wrathful goddess”

here is chapter six of my bella as a vampire and edward as a human fanfic inspired by an au that @bellasredchevy​​ posted. you can read the new chapter on AO3 or here. i post updates on AO3 or on tumblr using the #equinoxjw tag. but it seems 10/10 times my tag does not work, so that is a fun mystery for me to solve.

oof... sometimes u get distracted and then ur sister gets married and then u get unmotivated & d*pressed and forget to update ur fanfic for over three months... my bad y'all... sorry for the wait hehe. i hope it is worth it. again, i'm so thankful for the comments & i read them all. i get too shy to respond, but i WILL. i just need to talk myself up first. i love u. thank u. hehe. ♡♡♡ merry christmas/happy holidays if i fail u again before the 25th. i WANT to update more frequently. my catchphrase these days is "i'm trying my best," so... i'm trying my best.

this is for the sweet anons who slide into my ask box & ask me questions abt my fanfic. and for taryn, who consistently reminds me that there are people wanting to read this seeing as she is one of those people, kim, who i am so desperate to impress that i began working on a new chapter once she started to read my fanfic, and kae, because without her, this fanfic would never have existed in the first place. i love how i'm writing this as though it's the intro to an actual book when it's literally just chapter seven. ok, i will shut up now so u can read. love u. again.

07 A CRUEL GOD, A WRATHFUL GODDESS

In great contrast to the noisy ambience of the other students in the hallway, we were silent on our walk to our shared biology class. I wondered how conscious Edward was of the stares and whispers focused on our proximity to one another, but my guess was that he was very much conscious of it. I intentionally ignored glancing in any direction that I sensed one of my siblings’ presence, although I figured it was mostly paranoia driving me to feel as though we were about to cross paths. Holding my breath to more easily walk beside Edward left my senses impaired to the ability to pinpoint their location. 

I was lucky that for the majority of my immortal life, I’d managed to escape unwanted attention. But now, it seemed that precious luck had finally run out. Maybe embarrassment had been creeping up on me, maliciously building itself up all these years, waiting until just the right moment to rear its ugly head and exact revenge that immorality had stolen its favorite object of humiliation to torment. But here it was, ensuring that I was finally catching up on feeling awkward and out of step, a feeling I experienced for what seemed like the entirety of my human life. I thought once I’d been changed, I’d never feel this way again, but becoming misaligned with my family made me feel bashful to parade my defiance in their faces. I had operated better under no scrutiny as a mortal and was surprised to realize that that still held true as an immortal as well. Because though there was now never a struggle of staying upright or a risk of tripping over my own feet, that didn’t prevent me from feeling self-conscious as I walked beside Edward. Although for different reasons –– it was too mortifying to consider what my family might make of what my actions suggested about my feelings towards Edward.

And yet still, I would put up with the ridicule and disapproval of my siblings if it meant I could listen to Edward speak his silly philosophical theology, his questioning of god and existence, for just a few more hours. If I were going to be teased over Alice’s visions regardless, I might as well find out what I can about this pretentious boy before I leave him alone forever. If only to understand why his moving to this small town threatened to warp my own future so much. In losing night and in losing death, there were so very little anomalies in the endless amount of time I’d been given. So what would it hurt to allow myself to fixate on this minuscule difference in my life for just awhile?

It could hurt Edward, a more selfless part of myself reminded me. If indulging myself was playing with fire, I was being justly punished with the way flames were efflorescing the inside of my dry, burning throat.

If a god did exist, why would it make sense for such a being to craft someone like Edward with his perceptivity, and send him off to this small town, home to a secret such as ours? If a god did exist, why it would be fair for such a being to craft someone like Edward, someone who tempted me both in bloodlust and in curiosity, and send him off to this small town, home to the very vampire who desperately wished to kill him most? If a god did exist, if our kind had fallen short of heaven, I could understand why sending Edward into our path –– and more specifically, my path –– could be some kind of punishment. But what I couldn’t understand is why a god would allow someone as innocent as Edward to be endangered for the sake of bringing a sinful, undead creature to justice. It seemed the only reasonable explanation would be that a god probably did not exist. 

And how could there be? I was on the precipice of falling into temptation with every step further in the hallway and every question he asked and answered. I could never not be very much aware of the fact –– especially now with his body merely inches from my side and his sweet fragrance blooming both deliciously and relentlessly in the air. And even as I impossibly withstood the lure of his blood, how was I meant to ignore the irresistibility of his mind and how inexplicably concerned I was to understand it? It seemed like a very cruel experiment of free will and knowledge –– far too cruel to allow much room for the kind of god Edward hoped for.

I frowned as I realized that this experiment wasn’t that of a cruel god’s but that of a cruel vampire, and I felt very much like a vampire as the sound of his heartbeat was so appealing that it made my mouth water.

“Do the stares bother you?” Edward spoke quietly to me as we weaved throughout the hallway. Easily distracted, his question was able to pull the more civilized parts of myself together, though this was probably also in thanks to my choosing not to utilize my sense of smell. I found it funny that at least one of his thoughts had been in a similar vicinity. But of course, the rest of his thoughts were probably free of all consuming agony and struggle. For all his curiosity about morality, to inflict this existence upon him would probably devour him in misery. At least as a human, despite whatever conclusions he may come to, there was still some hope to be had for an afterlife. This thought should have been dark and depressing, but because it made Alice’s vision seem like a complete hoax, I almost found it funny. How would Edward ever end up like me?

“Oh, no,” I swallowed the venom in my mouth. “I live for attention.” I watched from the corner of my eyes as his gaze flickered over to me, the ever present half smile appearing on his face at my joke. My answer came out so comfortably as though I was used to this, when in reality, the student body for the most part had grown accustomed to ignoring me. And, of course, there was nothing comfortable about the demanding, aching dryness in my mouth or the burning in my nostrils. “How about you?”

“Likewise,” he joked, laughing. “This is interesting –– their fascination. I understood their interest on my first day because I’d guess a new addition to the student body in a town this small is something of a rarity, but today, walking by your side is garnering even more attention. Is it a once in a lifetime opportunity to have Bella Cullen walk you to class?”

“You’re just so observant, aren’t you?” I rolled my eyes, though the corners of my mouths pulled up despite myself. “And I’m not walking you to class. I’m walking to a class I just so happen to share with you, so don’t get the wrong idea. I think they’re just surprised because they’re probably under the impression that I don’t play nice with others.”

“And do you?”

“You tell me,” I replied, pausing to face him beside a wall of lockers next to the entrance of our biology classroom. As he stopped beside me, a gust of air from a passing student walking hastily down the hallway sent his scent reeling into me at an unfortunate moment where I’d chosen to breathe in. My muscles tensed to spring, and I desperately anchored myself to the floor as my mind fell into disarray.

“Nicely enough,” Edward winked naturally as though we’d been the best of friends since his first day. The demanding thirst was intruding on my awareness, and the desperation for something wet and hot and delicious in my desiccated throat was so dizzying that his voice sounded as though it were underwater. With an effort as though I were swimming through drying cement, I resurfaced, just barely proving my dominion over the desire. I focused on his voice so that it’d become clearer, forcing myself to take another excruciating breath in and exhale the fire out. “I will say I am honored to be the exception –– to be plucked from the masses by the renowned, reclusive Bella Cullen.”

With torturous effort, I snorted as though I wasn’t fighting everything within me to keep him alive. I breathed in again heavily, allowing my body to become a pyre so that I could speak. “Alright, that’s enough. Stop saying my name like that. And you’ve lost the privilege. I am never walking you to class again,” I rolled my eyes even though my joke could very much be the truth. The bunching of my muscles, the twitching of my hands, and the fierce pain in my throat reminded me of the fact. Before he could point out the contradiction of what I’d previously clarified, I sighed. “Let’s take this quiz.”

His pretty green eyes were alive with mischief and enlightened with what must be more answers to questions he hadn’t outright asked me as he turned to enter the classroom. I followed behind him towards our shared table.

Air from the vent rushed out, thrusting the scent of his blood wafting into my face again. I paused for an indistinguishable moment as I battled agony, murderousness, monstrosity. Holy fuck. What was I trying to prove! Was it really worth this? Swallowing hard, I sat beside him as though nothing happened. My suffering was so great that Emmett could have brutally ripped my arm off, he could have beat me with it, and I wouldn’t have noticed nor felt a thing. I could have been set on fire, and it’d feel like sinking into a cool pool of water on an even cooler day. I was already burning alive, my body acting as a furnace, and I was imprisoned inside it.

Without intending to, I sighed aloud, exhaling as though it would smother the flames. It was a stupid, attention seeking thing to do. Humans sighed to expel air or express some sadness or relief or exhaustion, so when my family emitted an audible breath, we did so as a means of blending in. But to breath out in a way to clue Edward into the fact something was plaguing me… it was a stupid invitation for more questions. And these were questions I had no intention of sharing the answers to. I felt his eyes on me, but before he could say anything, Mr. Molina began passing out quizzes face down on our lab tables as students continued to pile in from lunch.

“Alright, class. Today we have a pop quiz–– oh, come on, guys, don’t groan. You will have the opportunity to make corrections after these have been graded. This is just an assessment of what you’ve retained from this unit so far. You will have the entire period to complete–– thanks for joining us, Mr. Patterson, glad you could fit my class into your busy schedule. Why don’t you take your seat? –– You will have the entire period to complete your quiz. If you finish early, feel free to get a head start on this weekend’s homework! I’ve written the reading down on the board. Aw, I’m sure you’re all moaning because you’re disappointed at how light of an assignment it is because I just know how very excited you all are to continue your passionate pursuit of studying biology. Alright, now that everyone’s settled–– wait a minute––”  Mr. Molina paused, raising his pointer finger in the air, his eyes squinted in anticipation. Three seconds later, the bell signaled the beginning of class. “Begin!”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Edward reluctantly turn away from me. In an elegant script, he wrote his name at the top of the paper and began his quiz. I turned away from him to look at my own paper, preparing myself to uncomfortably hold my breath for the next hour. The difference this made in my thirst was almost insignificant, but enough so that it gave me a tiny more leverage in my control. I smoothed out the pucker on my forehead with the eraser from my pencil, accidentally snapping the rubber off against my face. 

Absentmindedly, I began to breeze through the assessment, circling the correct answers, but my mind was more absorbed in the warmth of sitting beside Edward. Aside from the affliction of doing so, it was too pleasurable to have sat beside him so often and for so long today. I enjoyed the toastiness like a lizard basking in the sun. It made me recall the muddy human memory of laying out on a blanket in my backyard beneath my beloved blue Arizona sky, hiding beneath the small shade of a book. Not the blistering heat of a summertime Phoenix sun, but the warmth of the first day of spring. But the heat of Edward’s body alone was enough to fill my mouth with venom, so I tried to refocus my attention onto my quiz.

When I turned to the last page of questions, a motion beside me diverted my concentration once again. I peeked over, turning my head slightly in Edward’s direction to see what it was. As he thought over one of the questions, his right hand was moving peculiarly as he lifted and dropped down his long fingers almost as though he were impatiently tapping each digit one by one along the tabletop. Except the movement was more exact and calculatingly random. Engrossed, I watched as his his soft, fragile skin rippled over the muscle, the tendons appearing and disappearing with every bizarre movement. It took me a moment to make the connection between the large grand piano in his home and the motion of his hands. I realized he was miming piano movements while he thought through his answers. There was something both weird, funny, and endearing about this. I smiled to myself, not having the required oxygen to quietly laugh.

I felt his curious eyes flicker over to me and watched peripherally as he raised his eyebrows. I shook my head, biting down on my lip to unsuccessfully fight the smile, and returned to completing my quiz.

I finished a moment later and impatiently waited another ten minutes or so before I could turn in my work. I tried to ignore Edward for this small period of time at least, mentally reading myself the opening chapter to Wuthering Heights. Even though the words were committed to my memory, it was still never as good as actually reading from the book itself.

Once I’d decided an appropriate enough time had passed, I stood up to walk my quiz to the completed basket on Mr. Molina’s desk. Even having waited, I was still the first to finish the examination.

“Thank you,” the teacher whispered without breaking his focus away from the crossword puzzle he peered through his glasses at. I breathed in now that I’d placed some distance between myself and Edward, gladly facing the cool, fresh air from the vent.

“Neophyte,” I whispered back now that I’d replenished my oxygen supply.

“Excuse me?” He glanced up, his slightly aged face confused.

“Neophyte,” I repeated. “Eight across, two down.”

I took in one last clean breath and walked back to my seat as he tapped his pen across the squares of the space, mouthing his count of the letters to check if the word fit.

As soon as I took my place in my seat again, Edward stood up to walk his own quiz to the basket.

I wanted to watch him, but instead I forced myself to unzip my backpack and retrieve the biology textbook.

Busying myself with the assigned chapters, deciding to actually read them so as to not feed into my invasive Edward obsession, I couldn’t help but listen as Edward too placed his own textbook on the countertop.

I heard the scribble of pen on paper as he began to write what I imagined were notes until his large hand slid the paper over to me beneath the wall of my hair spilling over the desk. Well, I wouldn’t ignore him if he was the one deciding to bother me.

You know I’m pretty certain that cheating is a violation of the student handbook, but I’ll let you get away with it just this once.

I turned to glance at his face to see if he were serious. His eyes were warm and inviting, his mouth in the same crooked smile.

I took the piece of paper and looked around for my writing utensil that had gone missing somehow. My eyes zeroed in on a suspicious, tiny pile of wood dust on my side of the desk. When had I brutalized my pencil? He held his hand out to offer his own pen, and I accepted it, carefully plucking it from his fingers without making contact.

I wasn’t cheating. You were doing something funny. And what do you know about the student handbook? You’re new.

I slid the paper and pen back to him and watched as he combed a hand through his bronze hair, reading my response. The smile grew wider as he construed the biting tone of my note. 

Can I be let in on the joke? Edward wrote, turning to look at me once he was done. Again I was prisoner, though this time not to my own body. I was momentarily held hostage by the beauty and warmth of his light green eyes. I was understanding more and more the attraction the other students had for him. If I had a soul, it was as though he were staring straight into it.

I recovered, placing my hand atop the desk and then wiggling my fingers as though I were weaving my way through a very complicated piano piece.

Oh, Edward mouthed, immediately understanding. He silently laughed and placed his left hand to his forehead briefly as if to hide his face in mock embarrassment. The ink from the pen spilled onto the paper as he began to write again.

In my defense, there’s research that supports classical music puts students in a heightened emotional state, making them more receptive to information and helping them focus.

That’s very nerdy of you. I scribbled back, the corners of my lips pulled upwards.

I know. As I read the words on the notebook paper, we both laughed a little too loudly for the quietness of the room.

“Please remain silent for your classmates still working,” Mr. Molina stage-whispered from his desk, his eyes still fixated on the crossword puzzle.

It’s a bad habit. Edward tacked on to his message. I beamed. I knew a thing or two about bad habits today. I was appreciative of this silent conversation on paper; it made it easier to be beside him without needing to breathe to speak aloud.

What were you playing? I scrawled.

Clair de Lune. Edward wrote back. His thick eyebrows raised as my eyes lit up, and he continued writing. You know Debussy?

My mother used to play a lot of classical music around the house. It was one of my favorites.

It’s one of my favorites, too. Edward’s eyes were a little sad and lost in thought, and he smiled softly.

I was shocked by the change in expression and weirdly desperate to return the brightness back to his eyes. The burn in my throat was almost forgettable in the face of my concern. Almost, but not quite. He turned his head down to write on the paper again.

You said Rosalie played piano. You never learned? He turned to look at me, his expression curious. I shook my head and shrugged, reaching for the pen.

I didn’t think I had the coordination for it. While this was true for the time I was human, it wasn’t true now. Still, even though my days stretched into endless nights, I hadn’t yet devoted time to any instrument as an immortal.

Edward read the paper, his long pointer finger tracing the line beneath the words as he did so. He held his large hand out, and I dropped the pen into it.

I’ll show you sometime. Edward half smiled at me, his eyes sweet and earnest.

Knowing I shouldn’t be allowing him to think making a plans with me was an option, I reached for the pen to tell him that it was alright, but I froze as he suddenly moved to drop the pen and take my hand. Though he should have been the one hesitant and cautious as though approaching a dangerous, wounded animal, I held perfectly still as though he were the danger, and I needed to play dead for protection. You can’t play dead if you are dead, I thought to myself. 

My body tensed as my hand was enveloped in the heat of his much larger palm, uncertain as to what he was doing. My muscles screamed at me as I clenched my free hand into a tight fist, terrified of myself.

A shiver rippled through him as he felt the chill of my frozen fingers, and I twitched the hand in his possession, wanting to yank it away to protect him from the iciness but not wanting to alert him with the swiftness of the motion.

He smiled mysteriously at the spasm as though he somehow expected it. I wanted to ask him what he was thinking but didn’t want to risk breathing. My control could too easily be lost. Besides, I was scared that if I were to open my mouth, I’d end up screaming.

I felt him push slightly and realized he wished for me to curl my fingers, so with great concentration and the acute awareness of his fragility, I moved my stony hand into the shape he directed, my fingers curved slightly beneath his like a relaxed talon. I didn’t like the shape; it was odd and inhuman and made me think of the violence I could cause.

But it wasn’t a claw. Because once my hand was positioned the way he wanted, he began to slowly place pressure on my fingers, and I dipped and rose them accordingly to carefully move with his. I watched as the two of our hands together played what I imagined must be the opening chords to Clair de Lune.

The disconcerting emptiness in my chest soared at the bizarre pleasure of this touch, and a weird sensation tickled my scalp, moving swiftly down my spine to my entire body. 

My muscles tightened violently and then relaxed, sending a shiver to ripple through me. It was too much pleasure and too much pain as my throat ached and I leaned into the warmth.

Embarrassed and not wanting to push my luck, I cautiously pulled my hand slowly away. He lifted his hand to allow me to escape as though I couldn’t just break his hand to do so, a half-smile pulling on his lips. I pretended not to notice the goosebumps on his arms.

See? he mouthed before deciding to whisper. “You could do it.”

I forced myself to smile and then turned away for the rest of the hour, trying to keep from doing anything stupid like looking at him or killing him. I’d completely forgotten where we were.

When the bell finally rung, I collected my things atop the desk hastily. Edward reached for my backpack and held it up for me.

“Thanks,” I murmured as I dumped my books into the bag. Before I could take it from him, he slid it onto his back and nodded his head once for me to go forward.

Feeling awkward, I turned and allowed him to follow me to the door. I was lucky to walk in front of him, taking the opportunity to breath again as the vent blew out in front of my face.

Exiting the classroom, I paused for a second when I saw Emmett waiting for me across the hallway rather than his typical spot beside the wall of lockers next to our shared Spanish classroom. Even though I was well aware of the fact I’d been dangling my irresponsibility in their faces all day, I still felt as though I was being caught in the act.

Emmett’s eyebrows raised as his golden eyes watched Edward follow behind me, carrying my backpack. I crossed the hallway reluctantly towards my big brother.

“Hello,” I greeted him, avoiding his eyes. I felt smaller than ever beside him with my head down, and yet not small enough as I wished to disappear.

“Hey, little sis,” Emmett began uncertainly, though I glanced up to see his full lips were beginning to stretch into a smile that I didn’t like. “Who’s that with you?”

“Uh…”

“I’m Edward Masen,” the lanky human boy introduced himself confidently as he stopped beside me. “And you must be––”

“Emmett,” my brother interrupted, grinning as though he always so comfortably interacted with humans. This was all too weird, but he looked to be enjoying it far too much. His desire to mess with me and his confidence in Alice’s visions seemed to override the abnormality of speaking to a student so amicably. I watched as he breathed in and shot me a meaningful look. I grimaced.

I opened my mouth to put an end to this torturously awkward interaction, but Emmett interrupted again.

“It’s nice to see you made a friend,” he began, an evil glint in his eyes as he watched my face. I was confused as to where he was going with this because our entire family would come across as misanthropic to the rest of the school, so why should it matter to him. He turned his attention to look at Edward who was closer in height to him. “You know, we worry about her––”

“Okay, let’s go to Spanish,” I cut him off quickly. “Edward, can I have my bag, please?”

Without looking at him, I reached for my backpack as he offered it and threw it over my shoulder, heading down the hallway. It was a massive relief to put some distance between myself and Edward. My thoughts were clearer, and I could breathe freely.

Emmett burst into laughter, his guffaws booming in the hallway. Several students paused in fear making me concerned about Edward’s reaction to my giant of a sibling, but I relaxed when I heard Edward chuckling along with him.

“Um, see you,” Emmett said to Edward before his steady, near silent footfall followed after me.

Even moving at a lethargic human pace, he caught up to me quickly.

“That wasn’t funny,” I grumbled.

“What the hell are you doing?” Emmett chuckled, ignoring my question.

“What the hell are you doing? What was that back there?”

“I don’t know. That was weird, but not as weird as you playing with your food.”

I hissed quietly.

“Damn, I’m kidding, Bells. But seriously, what are you doing? What happened to your high and noble speech about doing the right thing and staying away from the kid? I thought Esme was about to produce real tears. It even softened Rose.”

“Ugh, don’t talk to me about Rosalie right now. She’s been giving me dirty looks all day. It makes me feel awful. I already feel bad!”

“Well, I don’t really care what you do either way so––” I looked at him questionably. “I mean, sure, I want you to do the right thing, whatever that means. I don’t want you to feel miserable. But on one end, I didn’t really mind so much what happened to me.”

“Rosalie did,” I countered.

“Yeah, Rose did,” he acquiesced quietly.

“Anyways, I’m not having that conversation. I wasn’t talking to him today to test whether or not he’s worth it. That’s… unethical.”

“So what were you doing?”

“I don’t know,” I groaned in answer.

Emmett laughed.

“You’re weird these days, Bella.”

“You’re weird everyday,” I quipped back before sighing. “I don’t know. He’s weird, too. I guess… I’m not making any decisions, at all, but if Alice told you what she told me… wouldn’t you be curious?”

Emmett thought it over. “Yeah, I think so. But I also don’t think I’d have even made it to this point,” he admitted. I winced.

“It’s kind of unfair for me to care more about satiating my curiosity and dance with the devil this way, right?”

“Well…he may not know it, but isn’t it more so that Edward’s the one dancing with the devil?”

“Yeah,” I agreed, frowning as we walked into our Spanish class. “I guess it is.”

I made the decision to avoid thinking of Edward for the remaining hour of school. I paid very little attention in Spanish, returning to the familiar mind-numbing boredom that classes had been prior to the last few days. Now that it was in stark contrast to the sudden life breathed into my time at Forks High School by my fixation with Edward, the tedium was no longer something dealt with indifferently and sluggishly. Now, it left me feeling restless, and it almost pained me how laborious it was to sit through a life I wasn’t an active participant in. It was nowhere near the pain of dealing with the excruciating thirst I had around my bronze-haired lab partner, but it almost tampered with my thoughts more knowing I’d feel less miserable if I spent this time analyzing every word Edward shared with me, every fluctuation of his tone, every glint in his perceptive eyes, every expression on his pretty face… But I was becoming too obsessive. The same hunger for adventure that made me fall in love with reading must be what was leading me to so treacherously, so impetuously dive into exploring this insignificant and yet cataclysmic difference in my life.

As though it had a personal vendetta against me, time moved even more lethargically than it ever had before, but finally, the bell signaling the end of school rang. Emmett’s eyes shot a concerned look at me as I rose from my seat too quickly, and I immediately felt embarrassed again. The cautious reminder in his expression made me feel childish as Emmett was never one to care much about bending the rules. 

“See you at home, I guess,” he shook his head, giving me one last look that seemed to suggest I’d lost it.

“See you,” I mumbled, slinging my bag over my shoulder. Leaving Emmett behind to wait for Rosalie, I weaved through the crowded hallway and out to the parking lot. Students were bundling together and squealing at the chilling air as tiny, fluffy snowflakes fluttered down from the overcast sky. The floor of the parking lot was almost as glassy as yesterday as the rain from this afternoon had melted into a thin layer of icy mush. Though there was hardly enough snow for a decent snowball fight, some of the rowdier students were bundling up a pitiful pile of snow to form pathetic snowballs in their fists.

I nearly skipped to the pearly white vehicle parked beside Rosalie’s overly conspicuous crimson car which was forming a small crowd of admirers. Leaning against the trunk of the car, I watched the front doors of the school to look for Edward.

The tangle of reddish-brown hair was easy to spot because of its strange metallic tint as he strolled out of the building with Naomi, the student who’d provided him with the information about my family on his first day. He had his coat folded over his arm, revealing how form fitting his light tan turtleneck was. He truly was a very attractive boy. It was odd that I hadn’t really paid much attention initially. With his dazzling face and tall, lean frame, Edward was pretty enough that for the vampires who searched for exquisitely beautiful humans to create into even more stunning immortals, he could probably be a contender for someone to collect.

Thinking of how Emmett questioned my motives today, I quickly banished the idea of Edward as an immortal from my mind, even if it was only a hypothetical inspired by my observation.

Edward paused, asking Naomi if she could hold on to his backpack for a moment. When she grabbed it, he pulled on his long black coat, and fiddled with the collar. Recollecting his backpack, he slid it onto one shoulder, then rubbed his hands together, blowing the warm air from his mouth to heat them up. Thinking of the sweetness of the smell of his breath made me remember to take in swallows of fresh air before he made his way over to me.

As he was distracted momentarily, I watched as a stray snowball flew towards Edward’s head. I was overcome with the urge to intercept it in the event it may hit him too harshly and knock him to the pavement, but flying across the parking lot inhumanly fast twice in one week was probably not the way to go about correcting my mistakes.

The soggy snowball crashed into Edward’s hair, exploding into shards of ice and water that slid down his prominent cheekbone. I laughed aloud at his shocked expression as the curtain bangs framing his face were immediately drenched, darkening his hair into a brown color. Once he’d realized what happened, his face broke into a good-humored smile.

“Holy shit! Sorry, Edward!” The classmate who had thrown the snowball with poor aim called out.

“No worries!” Edward called back. He shook his head, chuckling as he wiped the water from his face. As he laughed, his eyes found the space where I waited and brightened seeing that I, too, was enjoying the moment.

“Hey, I’ll see you tomorrow,” he told Naomi, who was too beside herself in tears of laughter to reply.

Edward sauntered over towards me, and I inhaled deeply as a fortuitous whisper of wind blew from the tree line. I held onto the notes of crisp eucalyptus, fresh snow, and cedar wood, trying to distract my mind from the offensively mouthwatering scents approaching me.

Edward was a coordinated human, but even he lost his footing on the icy pavement. His body slid forward for a moment, but I stepped towards him to close the space between us and caught him by the elbow.

He looked up from his boots against the frozen parking lot into my eyes, startled momentarily at the swiftness in which I had appeared. Then, his full lips lifted into a crooked smile that creased his astonishing green eyes into half moons. I let go immediately and took a big step back to ensure a safer distance between myself and the warmth of his fragile body. It had been a risky movement, but somehow in comparison to yesterday, it didn’t seem to matter as much. I figured our classmates were too involved in their gawking at the details of my sister’s car or their feeble, slushy snowball fight to notice, and oddly, I didn’t care that Edward had seen. It was beginning to feel too late to keep up certain pretenses.

Although, it wasn’t too late, and it shouldn’t feel that way. I reminded myself I still had every intention of leaving Edward alone once I’d figured out what was so compelling about our paths crossing that had Alice’s visions spiraling in a confusing jumble. I took another step back slowly.

“Thank you,” Edward said, his eyes humored with another secret he didn’t seem willing to share. “You keep saving me.”

“Well, let’s not make this damsel in distress thing habitual,” I snorted, turning so that he couldn’t see the smile forming on my face. I felt shy about showcasing any comfort or happiness in his presence now that I was reminded of how fleeting this experimental friendship was, but I wondered if subconsciously I wanted him to catch me in my misery and ask me to explain, though I wasn’t certain why I wanted to sabotage myself like that. I opened my door and turned to look at him again. “You coming?”

Before he could answer, I dipped into the driver’s seat, and breathed in one last time. Well, once this was all over, I could finally stop inhaling dramatically as though they were truly my last, dying breaths. The air was mostly clean of his scent, but I knew that regardless, the heat of his body would be enough to disrupt my comfort and control. As the thought crossed my mind, I painfully swallowed back the venom pooling beneath my tongue.

Edward swerved through the crowd obsessing over Rosalie’s car and opened the passenger door, sliding into his seat. As he placed his backpack on the floor and fiddled with his seatbelt, I made sure to adjust the air conditioning so that the heat could warm Edward from the frigid Forks air. Though for me, just being in his presence made the intimate interior of the car feel as though I were again sitting by his fireplace.

“That’s a beautiful car,” he murmured. “Is it an M8?”

“Uh, it’s a BMW?” I asked uncertainly as though he’d spoken another language.

Edward grinned as though he wanted to laugh but didn’t want to make me angry. Rosalie would have loved to answer all his questions if he too had an interest in cars. Would have loved to, if she wasn’t deeply offended by my actions or if I had any intention of Edward meeting any more of my family members.

“Ready?” I bit my lip as I forced out any inconsiderate plots of murder that threatened to distract me from being a defensive driver.

“Mhm,” Edward answered.

I reversed out of the parking slot slowly, but as I looked in the rearview once I’d straightened out, I saw the fleeting image of Rosalie’s exquisitely beautiful and exceptionally angry face. I quickly readjusted the mirror to remove my sister’s reflection and sped out of the parking lot in a way that could have taken out a few unlucky students if I didn’t have above average years of driving experience.

Peripherally, I watched as Edward’s thick eyebrows raised, but he decided not to question me. Once we’d reached the main road, I slowed my speed so as not to rush through this time, even though I knew for his safety and my sanity, I should. As I drove, his right hand moved in odd shapes again against the arm rest of the passenger side door as though he were playing piano once more.

I decided to bite and use up some of my limited air supply.

“What are you playing?”

“Clair de Lune again,” he replied. Then, he began to hum the melody aloud for me as he moved his hand.

I thought to offer to play the song for him through the speakers, but I decided against it as I listened to Edward’s soft, velvety voice hum beautifully through the song, breaking the silence.

The ugly, slush-like falling of snow transformed into a falling of rainwater, and Edward’s voice was orchestrated by a lovely symphony of raindrops.

Before his voice could weave into the more involved moments of the piece, Edward stopped.

I looked over at him, curious for the reason as to why. His face was turned away from me so that all I could see was his untidy bronze hair as he gazed out the window. I pulled in front of his driveway and parked against the curb.

Miraculously, I’d made it again. Carefully, I inhaled through my nose to experiment with my control. The sweet bouquet of the boy’s blood was potent and even more mouthwatering than usual from the snow turned rain that’d wet his hair. I hadn’t considered the possibility that he could smell better than before, and I kept myself from groaning aloud as I dug my nails into my own palms. The tingling sensation in my nose was as though I’d sniffed some powerful chemical, the burning sensation in my throat as though I’d taken a long drag of a cigarette. But more painful. More demanding. Desire, need flew from my core out towards my extremities, and the beating of his heart pumping the blood through his body drummed loudly in my ears. It seemed to move through me, my frigid body almost twitching with every pulse, ready to lunge forward and crush his neck to my lips.

“What was your mother like?” He asked me suddenly, his voice soft. Edward turned from the window to face me, and I was bewildered by the intensity of his expression. His eyes were light and beautiful against the gloomy grey of the sky, and they squinted slightly as though studying my face like this information was absolutely essential. But this was not what stunned me, as I’d already seen the severity of this expression before in our ephemeral time together. It was the unexpected vulnerability of his stunning face. The more time I spent looking at him, the more I realized how beautiful this human boy really was. And it seemed a great tragedy for this beautiful boy to harbor such devastation in his eyes.

Whereas previously in his presence, my thoughts had become incoherent due to a lapse in control, now my thoughts were incoherent in distress and desperation to understand what had gone wrong and how I could fix it. I was momentarily dumbfounded, but I pulled myself together after the soft sound of a few droplets of rain against the roof reminded me that he was waiting for an answer.

“Well, she looked a lot like me, but prettier,” I began stupidly. He raised his eyebrows. “Or at least, she used to look a lot like me, and I used to look a lot like her. I don’t so much anymore.” It’d been so long since I’d really spoken about my mom, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to laugh or cry. I knew I should have made some comment about whether or not she looked like Esme or Emmett since our story made us siblings, but I didn’t want to taint the rarity of sharing who she was with a lie.

“She was more outgoing than I am,” I continued, thinking through the foggy memories I held onto from my human life.

“That’s difficult to believe,” Edward teased quietly, his lips curving into a half smile.

I laughed, listening to the melodic sound of it, thinking of how it symbolized how very much different I was now from the human girl my mother knew.

“I was always very shy,” I smiled, before speaking up again, caught in the echoes of my past. “She was brave and irresponsible and slightly eccentric. And she was a very unpredictable cook!”

I laughed aloud again thinking of some minor explosions in our tiny kitchen and some questionable dishes. Edward laughed too, but when our laughter faded into the falling of the rain, my smile faded.

“She wasn’t perfect,” I admitted. “I think I recognize now that she was very fallible. I worshipped her when I was younger, but when I think back, I do see how in some of the ways she raised me, I was done a disservice… I grew up too fast. When she died––“ I sighed, feeling insincere and guilty about perpetuating this lie when I really should have said when I died, “––Esme became more of a mother to me, and even Rosalie’s been more traditionally nurturing than my mom ever was… But still, she was my best friend.”

“You miss her,” he murmured simply. I met his gentle eyes.

“Yes,” I bit my lip.

“How old are you, Bella?” Edward asked. “And not the formulaic, theorized version where you were born in your thirties. How old are you really?”

I tensed, wondering if he was asking this again because he’d taken note of how I didn’t directly answer this question the last time he asked.

“Seventeen,” I answered automatically.

“You don’t seem seventeen,” he responded, reproachful.

The tension left my body at the tone of his voice. I smiled again easily.

“Sorry?” I asked, biting my lip to hide the smile, unsure of how to respond.

Edward chuckled and the subtle crinkles by his eyes lit up his face. “Well, I wish you’d been given a happier, normal childhood.”

“I’m fine,” I shrugged, brushing it off. “I hardly remember most of it, and what I do remember reminds me that I probably didn’t have much chance at a normal childhood to begin with. I was terribly shy, remember.

“I did do girl scouts, though….Oh, and ballet briefly,” I admitted, unsure as to why I was volunteering so much information about myself. Wasn’t the purpose of me sitting here to uncover information about him?

“Why does that make you… embarrassed?” Edward’s eyebrows pulled up.

For an odd moment, I felt betrayed by the flush of my cheeks before I realized there was no blood rushing to my face. I blinked, bewildered by the peculiarity of this long buried instinct to become frustrated with my easy blushes when I hadn’t blushed for years. I felt self conscious as I wondered what Edward saw reading my expression to so perfectly decipher my feelings.

“I was very uncoordinated,” I dismissed his question as I fought the urge for my hand to flutter to touch my cool cheek.

“Now that truly is difficult to believe,” Edward half-smiled. “I can’t imagine I’ve seen anyone as graceful as you.”

I laughed aloud at his compliment, though I didn’t doubt his sincerity. I knew this was true of myself. It was true of all of our kind to appear fluid and effortless, but still, no one had ever applied the word to me. My vampiric poise was irrelevant and unimpressive to my family, and the very few humans brave enough to overcome their nerves to compliment me typically found their words to fail them.

“You’re very odd,” I beamed.

“What do you mean?” The bronze-haired boy asked, again wanting to be let in on the secret. While I had an insatiable thirst, it seemed he had an insatiable curiosity.

“How old are you really? Your word choice is bizarre for someone your age, you know.”

“Oh,” he laughed easily. “Well, I’m actually not seventeen. I’m eighteen. But I’ll try to strictly adhere to a more teenage vernacular, so I can compliment you in a more acceptable way from now on.”

I looked out at the dim light of the brewing storm, my smile fading as I decided that I should probably allow him to escape me before I did something I’d regret. But I knew I wasn’t resolved enough to completely leave him alone. He made me monopolize too much of the conversation, and I wasn’t satisfied with what I knew about him yet.

I sighed aloud, and Edward, too, looked out at the rain darkened sky.

“Will I see you tomorrow?” he asked hopefully, making the assumption that our conversation was coming to an end.

“Yes,” I promised reluctantly. My eyes flickered back over to his pretty face, studying the lines of his strong jaw, his chiseled cheekbones, his full lips, committing this inconsequential face to memory as I silently resolved that this should be –– and would be –– one of the last times I’d allow myself to be this close to him. Tomorrow may well be the very last.

Likewise, as though his thoughts were in the same vein, his beautiful green eyes studied my face as well, though he did so in that mysterious way of his where he looked at me as though hoping to read my mind.

He sighed, then collected his backpack. Edward opened the door, stepping out into the bitterly cold weather. A shiver ran through his lanky body, making my body tense with perverse excitement. I cringed away from the deadly instinct and swallowed against the dryness of my yearning throat.

Edward’s tall, lean frame leaned down to peek into the car.

“Goodnight, Bella,” he spoke softly.

“Goodnight, Edward,” I almost whispered, gazing into the beauty of his dazzling green eyes.

Edward smiled his half smile, and closed the door, escaping into the building torrent of rain.

I gasped in relief at his absence, then stiffened realizing how the cab of the car was still heavily perfumed with his scent. I took in another deep breath, forcing myself to confront the burning thirst again, willing myself to manage it. I sighed as I hit the gas, making Edward disappear behind me.

  Both my control and the rain pour strengthened significantly as I turned onto the long drive leading to my house. I grimaced as I wondered how I’d face my family and explain the complete reversal of what I’d promised to do. I didn’t have time to consider for much longer as suddenly, a figure appeared instantaneously in the drive. I slammed my foot on the brake immediately in shock at its appearance, not wanting to total yet another car against one of my siblings.

I peered through the windshield, unable to see through the complete downpour that submerged my vehicle as though it were underwater. It was annoying for my perfect sight to be obstructed by anything, rainwater or even the transparent windshield because of my eyes’ desire to focus on the microscopic scratches.

The car violently screeched against the muddy pavement, and it looked as though we would have to bid this car goodbye until the figure hidden by the storm placed their hands out on the car roughly and forced it to a stop. The tires screamed in protest, and the metal groaned as it warped into the shape of the palms. I listened as it unnaturally bent again in a piercing moan as the figure fixed the indentions they’d created.

My windshield wipers swatted away a flood of water. Finally, I could make out my sister Rosalie, her hair dripping wet down her back like a supermodel who’d just emerged from a pool on the cover of Sports Illustrated. Her exquisite face was absolutely furious.

I gulped, feeling like a child who’d just been discovered sneaking home past curfew.

I felt uncertain as to what to do and why she’d chosen to stop me here. Surely she could wait for us to be under the cover of the garage before she chastised me. Not wanting to be drenched by the rain, I revved the engine to ask her to move aside, but the car didn’t inch forward against her strength. Beginning to feel annoyed, I revved the engine again loudly and for longer, but still, she didn’t move.

“Rose,” I hissed as I hit the brake again so that the car could roar viciously in the storm, only to be cut off by the voice of my adopted mother.

“Girls!” I couldn’t see Esme through the obscured glass behind the downpour, but even with the barrage of the rain, I could hear her lithe steps run furiously to the front porch. “Please!”

Rose’s head snapped up to look in Esme’s direction before turning to glance unhappily back at me. She stepped aside, and I sped into the garage, parking the car hastily.

I exited immediately and went to expect the damage to the front of the hood. It was only a minuscule bend from having been pushed and prodded back and forth, and I was positive Rosalie could make it look like new, though why it had been necessary to punish the car was beyond me. It wasn’t even mine.

I wheeled around once I’d heard the near-silent steps of her run, a wave of anger making me forget my guilt.

“Are you insane?!” I demanded.

“I could ask the same of you, Bella!” Now free from the obscurity of the rain, I could see in perfect detail the stunning fury of her glorious face. Her golden hair had been darkened by the rain, and it was slicked back effortlessly, like a glittering waterfall down to the middle of her back. She looked like a wrathful god, but I couldn’t find it in my stubbornness to care about how valid her anger may be.

“Okay, but did you have to take it out on the car? What did it ever do to you! You couldn’t have waited another twenty seconds to confront me? Well, you have my attention now, Rosalie, so say whatever it is you want to say!”

“You’re just unbelievable, Bella!”

“He’s not going to say anything, Rose! We already talked about this yesterday. You heard Alice! He’s not a threat to you and Emmett, so I don’t understand why you’re taking this so personally.”

“Exactly, Bella. I heard Alice. Which is precisely why I fail to understand as to why you wouldn’t understand why I’d take it so personally. After all these years of sisterhood, how can you not understand how I feel about this?”

I frowned, my forehead puckering, but still, I retained my anger. She huffed, continuing.

“If it was an inevitability, I’d understand. However, it hurts me deeply that you recognize the choice that you have. The choice that Edward has. And still, you’re willing to play with his mortality as though it were a game, when I never had that choice.”

I froze, the realization dawning on me that she was right. No matter the ways in which I tried to justify my actions or spin my intentions, she was right. Another part of my mind acknowledged that while I was aware of right and wrong, I wasn’t certain that what was right would be enough to keep me away anymore.

We stared each other down much like we had yesterday. Only today, rather than anger, her face was contorted in hurt, and mine was contorted in hopelessness.

“But… you found Emmett when he was still human…” I weakly protested, selfishly trying to highlight the irony, though I knew it was pointless as I wasn’t advocating for Edward to be changed either. That was too complicated a thought to wrap my mind around. But whatever may happen –– and I was still very much aware of the worst of possibilities –– I didn’t want my sister to hate me for it.

“He was dying, Bella,” Rosalie whispered. The anger on her face had completely faded, and in its place, pain marked her eyebrows, her full lips, her golden, sad eyes. In her sadness, she looked like a work of art, like one of those paintings of a weeping saint. “It’s not the same.”

I didn’t have a response to that, and I felt as though I was at an impasse, both with myself and with Rosalie. Because I knew the promises I’d made and broken, but I knew the promise I’d made to Edward today, and I had no willpower, no desire, and no intention to break that promise.

“You may not feel anything for him now,” Rosalie began, her eyes intently fierce as they bore into mine to warn me. Only this warning felt significantly more horrible than I’d imagined it may be, because it wasn’t made in anger, but in desperation and love. “But if Alice is right, you will. And it seems to me a horrible way to repay someone you love to steal their life, their future, their soul from them. You should leave him alone now while you still can, because once you love him… it’ll only hurt more one way or another. And you’ll have to live with that for the rest of your existence. I know I have.”

And with that, Rose turned, her face cold and sad, and she left the garage.

[g3nosarchive]

ok i genuinely think a lot of other people have this problem but stop inserting yourself when xyz issue is mentioned. when someone is telling you that a person, a celebrity, some franchise is harming their identity or anyone’s identity as a minority, or part of a certain race or religion or anything shut the fuck up and accept it.

they do not need to know your emotional attachment to said thing, your disbelief, your horror, your personal experience - we didn’t ask for all that. we know just how bad it is, cus yk it harms us maybe? we’ve already gone through the cycle of being angry and indignant and now we’re here trying to get you to understand in the hopes that as a friend you do what you’re meant to do when you became friends with us. we are not your constant ball of anger to use whenever you find something that’s “crazy, unbelievably, shockingly” once again, a hate crime, when you decide you want to feel angry and care about it.

more under the cut bc i talk too much

by doing that, you’re making an issue that you didn’t even know about suddenly yours. ask yourself, what is the purpose for telling anyone all that? to get them to sympathize with you personally so you can get a pass because you didn’t know? of course you don’t know, of course you’re unaware, that’s the whole reason why you’re being told in the first place. do not water down the issue or even try to play the ‘everything has some issue like this so there’s no point in going this far’ card. especially as a white person. the reason why you don’t know primarily is because it doesn’t affect you and it doesn’t cross your mind.

when you watch a show with a black character, you don’t care about how off the character design is or how stereotypical and borderline racist the comedy gag surrounding said character is. when you listen to your favorite white music artists or watch your favorite movie with a majority white cast, white staff, white team, and white theme, you don’t care to analyze just how outdated and stereotypical the way that token asian character is portrayed. some of y’all don’t understand and will never understand the mental struggle and awareness forever plugged into the brain of lgbt and/or poc, especially black people when we consume anything, when we go anywhere, when we meet new people, to constantly catch those micro aggressions and know what to avoid.

so when someone tells you insert classic hot mess is racist and you should stop supporting it, one of the worst things you can do beside outright rejecting it is to defend it and insinuate that we don’t know what we’re talking about, that we need 30 different sources to prove it all, that you don’t think (for example taylor swifts dream colonized africa mv) is bad. you try to say the thing or person that is actively promoting all this homophobia, racism, transmisogyny etc needs to be kindly educated, is trying their best, will learn soon enough, just wasn’t educated, will do better in the future (esp looking at u kpop stans). does their apparent regret but refusal to properly apologize actually matter? the damage has already been done.

that in itself is a privilege i could never have. i don’t even try being a fan of any major white celebrity or any kpop group because i guarantee if i search up their name with ‘racist’, ‘sexist’, ‘homophobic’, ‘transphobic’, ‘cultural appropriation’ behind it something or some image is bound to show up. you will all say “oh they haven’t done anything yet” but when it comes out that they did, they have, and they do not care about who it affects, suddenly it’s a bombshell dropped on you out of nowhere.

it’s not that hard to spot these things actually. if your fav is constantly putting themselves against people of color, saying shady shit about non cishets while being a cishet themself, saying one thing and doing another, or has been silent when their voice was expected to speak up, shouldn’t you notice? y’all will reblog all these posts but in reality only 10% are actually reading and listening and actually digesting this information for future use.

and i think the thing that pisses me off is this is all from personal experience where i’m speaking from. over the past 2 days the amount of times if i’ve heard about the “tea that dropped w meghan markle” is ridiculous and annoying. a girl texted me and i sat there and i realized that she does this on a daily basis to fuel my anger and get me to validate her own useless anger. of course i knew about it and i wasn’t surprised at all - she’s still a black woman.

almost every black blog on here, when they get big enough, deals with some sort of weird shit surrounding their blackness. if you get big on speaking about issues you are now this emotionless token ‘smart black person i can actually trust’ to use as your replacement for google. this is not to say asking questions is bad, but it is so easy to pull up some of the shit you guys ask for. some people get called slurs directly, targeted for being too black or not black enough, attacked for their features and etc and someone mentioned this before but the only people that care in those situations are other black people themselves. white people will have blm in their bio but turn the other way the minute some anon starts acting up in their mutuals’ inbox, calling them a dark1e because they felt confident enough to post some selfies. and then you get sad when we dont go to you for any kind of support? 

i’ve stated sometimes that asking me questions on issues and things is okay, but one of the main reasons i say that is because whether i say it or not, i’ll be asked questions and expected to know everything and i am your personal walking encyclopedia and ofc it’s natural for me to have all this information in my head, as if i didn’t research it myself. but then i think about the numerous amounts of people that specifically say not to ask them this shit because it really does tire you out, that they don’t want to have to deal with this in any space but they still get them. 

and then the ones that don’t even know themself so people will use them as an example and say “well this person didn’t know and they’re ‘marginalized identity’ so it should be fine for me too”. good god just apologize, show that you really care, change your behavior and move on. do you think it was fun being asked the statistics for george floyd’s and other black peoples death in class? that you were being inclusive and giving me a chance to show off my intelligence, to prove to others that i really had something up here and you were my greatest star eyes white friend that gave me that chance? i cant close my posts like this properly but i want you to think about that shit and actually ask yourself if you’d do that. a lot of you will read this and think “i’m not that type of racist” “i don’t have those deep seated prejudices in me” yes you do. you just haven’t been called out on it.

for all the shit ive dealt with above, if i’ve ever talked to you about this before dont come to me to apologize i do not need it and you are not the only person i’ve received this from. i guarantee you that there’s about 20 other people i’ve thought about while writing this post considering i’m a black person in the real world, so keep your guilt to yourself an deal with it

white people don’t add on to this

[veralovemail]

Hello! If it isn't much hassle, can I have a male matchup (survivors), please?

(Also I'm a girl)

Normally at first I'm a very shy and quiet person and I don't usually show how I feel, but I'm also very friendly and it's easy to get along with everybody. I'm quite introverted and reserved (I have social anxiety), it's difficult to me to talk to others, but I have no problem with them talking to me (although I may be a little nervous and quiet at first, it depends on the person I can let go faster). With my close friends I sometimes become noisy and can talk a lot, I never hide my emotions and I am as honest as possible, I never hide anything from them. Although sometimes I can be too frank and sincere, according to them (I can accidentally say things that can hurt others.).

I am a fairly educated person and I hate to be rude or violent, but sometimes with my friends who are specifically men I am sometimes more aggressive and tough, but if it bothers them I stop (it's just that I am used to being this way with men). I have a sarcastic humor (the ones that I usually bother with this are my male friends, but if it bothers them I stop) and according to my friends I am quite funny, above all I make them laugh with my expressions, gestures and tone of voice (which are very transparent and clearly demonstrate what I am thinking or feeling).

I am a very perceptive person and just by looking or listening to someone I can tell how that person is. I like to help others and whenever I can I let my friends (or the people around me) know that if something happens they can count on me and that I will always be there when they need me, either just to listen, give advice, be a shoulder to cry or just be there. If someone doesn't want to tell me something, nothing happens, I don't want them to tell me something they don't want (I'm a very understanding person). 

Though I never tell anyone my problems. I generate many self-destructive and toxic tendencies towards myself. I don't have self-esteem and I demand and abuse myself a lot. Sometimes I tend to distrust others because they have taught me all my life to distrust everyone (especially people close to me) and I have quite a few traumas. But I don't tell anyone out of fear that they will think I am weak and hate me. I have the constant fear that this will happen, that others will think ill of me, that they will harm me, that I will hurt and not be useful. Only the people I trust and love the most have been told about my insecurities and can see me in my worst moments without me feeling guilty about it.

I'm a pretty fragile person, it's easy to make me feel bad, stress and hurt, plus it's very easy to make me cry. But I only show this to people I really trusted (seeing me crying without containing my emotions is my greatest show of trust). I'm very affectionate person, I really like to give affection to my close friends (even the boys) if they don't mind it and I also use to say openly how much I care and that I love them (in a Platonic way). Finally, I do very well drawing, singing (I have a very sweet and pretty voice when I sing, when I speak although it is also quite sweet and nice to listen to is also very moldable), writing and quite a lot more! (although I find it hard to see my achievements and only realize when someone tells me so, I am very critical of myself and constantly need the approval of others).

Thank you and have a good day!

you're welcome!! i would like to hear you sing someday :" i can rap.. dunno if that counts tho.

i match you with... william ellis!

OKAY HEAR ME OUT i have this one in the bag

william is able to keep up with your slightly more playful-aggressive behaviour towards men. you two probably play fight a lot.

when you two meet, you contradict eachother.

william is very excitable and bold, whereas you're very reserved and introverted.

he definitely isn't afraid to strike up a conversation with you while you're decoding and is able to get you to loosen up a lot around him.

later on, you get ballooned in the match by mary and william's like "hey! anyone wanna see the record time for someone losing their kneecap privileges?" and tackles mary with everything he's got.

you win the match and after that you start talking more!

and after that, with a bit of pushing from vera, you two FINALLY confess to eachother.

so prepared to never go on chair again! william is always going to rescue you and every hunter is now terrified of you two being matched together. they just leave you alone.

if there's a new hunter and the other hunters forget to tell them about the two of you? god bless their poor soul for even trying to chair you.

you two count on eachother, you rely on him and he relies on you.

william learns very quickly that you are very fragile and tries his best to learn your cues or changes in behaviour when you're having a bad day.

you'll have to be really honest with him for a while before he finally starts realising when you're upset, but even then he may not ask and instead show that he's there for you through his actions.

please, keep your honesty with him. william isn't the smartest socially, he's always been like a class clown sort of person.

you make him laugh a lot! you make jokes while decoding together and william literally fails every calibration or just sinks to the floor laughing because you're too funny.

he wants you to feel loved and protected, so after a bad day, he's dragging you into bed and cuddling you until either he falls asleep or you do.

he sometimes runs baths for you when you're down or stressed out, but he may flood the bathroom with bubbles... but it adds character to the bath!

if you open up to him about your problems, he'll definitely try help you out the best he can - tell him how, or suggest subtly and he's already asking helena what it means and what he can do to help.

he will definitely listen to you rant or vent and try suggest solutions to your problems.

if you want to, he'll take you on his training exercises to help work your anger / sadness out of your system.

also, draw him. he will model for you. he will model for you just so he can show off his abs but it really powers his ego if you draw him with the abs.

OH and sing for him!! he would really want to listen to you sing quietly while decoding, or hum when you're writing something or mumbling lyrics to yourself when trying to sleep. he adores your voice and really just wants you to put on a show for him one day where you sing your heart out on the stage but it's just him there, starstruck AND lovestruck.

he sees you as a very strong person, so you opening up to him makes him see you as like... "hey! i can move a mountain" sort of strong.

you're the light of his life- when he hasn't seen you all day, he'll lift you up into his arms and give you the most passionate kiss of your life.

he loves you so much, he never wants to let you go.

ok!! thank u for requesting (saying this for the 2nd time) and i hope you enjoyed these :)

[misterbitches]

Hello! @flootweed replying to the post from before. the long format was killing me. why does tumblr look like this...

I haven’t watched episode 8 yet...or have I? If it’s the most recent one. No.

Is the hornbill a bird? It probably is but I have a terrible memory and I’m dumb so. I skipped the last few weeks because I’m scawwed. How are you liking it? I did see someone say that the hornbill makes sense (without knowing what it is...at all) bc heart transplant patients only live like 5-15 years after but someone in those comments pointed out that he was so young when he got his and that’s pretty rare so he has a higher likelihood of survival. Frankly, this is the only way I will proceed. Since when did shows ever care about the heart transplant health? Never and it needs to stay that way!

What did we think of ep 6? LMAO. I need opinions! And omg it makes me feel special when I can point things out to people because I so...rarely get to LOL. Editing is like one of my favorite things ever so I can be super particular about it but I try to do the thing you do when you’re supposed to see if it works within its context. I’d like to go in with scissors and glue but alas. 

THe mic covering....the rustling....it’s like guys...please. Ironically the audio today wasn’t great. I don’t know why. IDK if you watch c-dramas but I am not even sure what’s worse between them because they dub their dramas. But actually no it’s best to have the dubbing because even tho it is painful they have to put a lot of effort into it. LOL. 

Right? @ Aey! It’s just weird if they would show us more about what he’s done instead of saying he’s done sth bad and not even explaining that....like you could even do some shitty exposition. I think if he is to be a true villain then we really need to be privvy. All the warnings make it seem like he’s a fuckin’ serial killer so when we get the scene of him at home it’s like....actually this is really serious? Maybe his pain is like...for a reason. Althought you won’t even TELL US WHAT HE’S DONE WRONG BESIDES BE JUST FUCKING WEIRD AND ANNOYING! So from what we have it’s just a realllllllll fucked up sad person lol. god i forgot about the dinner! and i totally agree. he really needs them to succeed. i like your theory because it would make the scene where he like blocks the twitter user make more sense. he also says they dont really know each other etc so it’s realllllyyyyy probable that he just sees it as a way out. if not then we shall pretend u wrote it :)

god yea i wouldnt say it is art but i also guess we technically have to since it is technically. in the way that technically performance artists are artists but mostly i uh technically ignore them. Also one of my fav BLs is called the best twins. If you do not know what it is I will not elaborate further.t 

i want to know more abt poli sci majors lmao but they sound DRAMATIC/ hopefully most ppl in ur cohort arent losers! 

hahahha i understand. there was just a thing on twitter about DSA and then the day before about reading discourse. the same thiings. over. and over. and over. and over. we are our own worst enemies but also our own best friends? but i hate tankies and that wont change. but hasan’s a decent guy. he said sth abt black ppl during biden’s primaries in GA or whatever and i was like chill. but he’s insecure and has adhd which means ur more open to being wrong and changing otherwise u will suffocate and die. 

and totally about hiding fuck ups. i’ve tried really hard bc of organizing IRL to like...be honest, question, etc but also like...approach it naturally? because if you’re trying to be perfect and so worried you’ll fuck up you don’t realize that puts  more stress on you, makes you seem like a robot, and could potentially not make you realize the mistkaes you made. also if we’re privileged in certain spaces there is just no possible way we won’t get something wrong. im light and i know that honestly any way to speak up on colorism is going to be difficult and that’s a space where i have power so i just have to figure it out. we should be uncomfortable because we have to sit with unpleasant feelings and sort through our own whatever. that just makes the next time even better and people can trust u more.  i think some people sweat it sooo much or maybe they think their personal life and what theyve been through is more the norm? on the other hand people can be sf reactionary in the worst way and idk what their issue is. there was also a user who said sth very inch arresting about tankies which i thoroughly enjoyed (how like violent lefitsts or tankies / ppl who are like ooh a gun whatever just want to be violent in another space so they have shit tendencies from jump and nothing of substance which i think i agree with tbh fo ra lottttt of ppl. like their anger is actually like “no im about to beat that ass” instead of what we actually want to get done) 

sort of in the same vein re: taking it easy...we coudl all be more understanding too. to slow it down like you mentioned about not being privvy to fucking eveyrthing and saying anything on our mind. i saw this person talk about y2k which was a huge deal while happening bc it was the turn of the millenium (bruh were u even alive?) but this twitter user grew up in a super super SUPER religious household and was like why do ppl make jokes about Y2K it was insanely traumatizing? though my first instinct was confused ive tried hard to like look more before i judge especially thanks to a friend of mine. turns out that with the further reading the more we found out he was just really traumatized; it was very common in religious households to be afraid of 2000. so we could have come at him with no understanding and he could have thought that everyone had the same experience with that year that he did. his feelings sit precedent though but i think it was just very hard for him to fathom. 

i didnt reply bc he didnt need that and what could i have said? he’ll see what the truth is with exposure and unfortunately this was something he really did go through. 

and that’s what makes most people think others could be over the top. because it sounded ridiculous but then it was this huge traumatic thing that we could have never known about. so maybe when someone sounds like actually crazy they have an explanation? of course some ppl are just batshit or annoying but that’s anywhere not just leftists it’ just means more i guess when a ~~librul is annoyed~ but it can be easy to want to make fun of ppl too. lmao.  basically what i am saying is the internet? especially twitter? for leftists? in this economy? bitch it’s the wild west out here.

i am 29! idk if i said it or not. i am OLD u probably werent even born in the year i was talking about wah. i know not old-old or old at all but compared to you i’m due for a colonoscopy.

omg i hope u can get vaxxed soon! are you wfh rn? i hope ur also not in a bad state as in state state not state as in ur being :| bleh what a fucking time. it sucks that you have to fucking do work. well unless u like school. which i hope u do. i just assume everyone hates it cos i did lmao

was it the lindsay ellis drama? that bitch is dumb. if there was other drama oh wait the drama i was referring to it all happened on the same day. idk book twitter that well but i saw something from someone who was abt that shit and wowie! the american people are not that.....intelligent to put it lightly.

i’ll get better. ppl tell me they miss me and im like aw. i have insanellllyyy bad insomnia and a lot of stuff happened this year HOWEVER I SLEPT FOR TWO DAYS FOR 8 HOURS AT A REASONABLE TIME. im a new woman.  anyways you too! i hope ur not too burnt out with school. we just dont know when the burnout is or we just dont know we are burnt out until we are. the panaramiciccici hit and all the things i was ignoring kind of just fell on me and sooo much happened at once. and frankly it’s hard to take care of ourselves. lord. 

Like if you aren’t interested in expanding on the issue in a way that hasn’t been done before all you gotta do it like… spread resources and donate if you can. I dont see the point in having to say something about every issue especially if you (not at you specifically just in general) aren’t immediately impacted by the issue. Like is the 14 yr old white marxist named sarah on twitter really gonna have meaningful insight on anti-asian violence ?

this is part of why i cannot telecommunicate. i dont want to do shit on the internet. i am able bodied so i know that this time has been of such ease for other people. but mentally i just can’t. i don’t have a comment on hand like that and i hvae no desire to engage with ppl that way. i am a super super super solitary person but thats bc it’s MY time so when it’s like all this effort with other people i dont ever want to be alone. it’s the same with the way i approach filmmaking. it isnt a sole thing so i hate it not together. that’s part of how u can get so sucked in and repeat doom scrolling. i was in this webinar last may after [redacted] and this black woman prof said “read with a community and talk” because otherwise she said we are torturing ourselves. you can’t carry that weight all on your own. unfortunately i hate zoom, discord, slack, signal, whatsapp, facetime. you name it this panera has made it evi.. L

you make a really excellent point. i think the young young gen zers are really really just interesting because it’s like this whole new world for them with leftist politics and they just can’t grasp the horrors of the world and the kind of freedom being a leftist can bring. and so many people don’t grow out of it. those people so happen to be the “least productive” in terms of how much time they spend IRL withe these issues. naturally, younger kids are gonna have a harder time. they are not as mobile as well so the internet becomes this place. but then it’s this echo chamber. and many times just things posted without sources. and social media NEEDS that to exist.

i think of the irony of leftist kids on tik tok and while i am happy it’s reaching them it’s just....different. very different. the growth of social media is so good but also so fucking sad, it’s too much! i think the point about not writing everything is major. even i have to do this which is part of the disappearing.y ou need to detach and make sure your head is on straight again. but when you think eveyrone has to be privvy to every thought and you can’t just sit back....which twitter and social media doesn’t encourage. you have to join in. that’s often why when i have something to say it is dense because i don’t feel like repeating it. ever. lmao ust ever. i cant pay attn. social media is a fucking minefield for my brain u can get so lost in it and absorb it but once u start talking you may not be able to stop. 

i think a big part of that is it not being a leisurely thing but sort of just in our lives always. this sounds like a grandpa rant but ykwim. We dont have to see the same thing over and over again. And eventually it gets sincerely diluted or its diluted bc of capitalism or whatever. Or if theyre very young or maybe they don’t have like the greatest way of sharing the knowledge? then it can be butchered. I hope this is making sense...i’m talking beyoond the boring surface-level milquetoast shit. i see really ahistorical stuff on there from leftists (like this thing about NK + africa and it being a beneficial rship as opposed to a um not beneficial one. and it isn’t.  beneficial but this young black girl was talking abt it and noname rtd and i was like it’s just too complex. there’s no good/bad here just bc it’s not america. dont get me started on this.)

but Lol that was kinda off topic but I think what I meant in my last reply about not turning off the voice in my head is about when I consume media, not necessarily when I’m online talking about. Even if I have criticism for something, I’m usually pretty chill when consuming fandom content bc I think being serious online all the time is kinda boring. Like sometimes I’m analyzing theme and shit but really most of the time im memeing.

exactly.........gotta laugh. thats why sometimes im like i cant think lmao. unfrotunately i have been ARGUING with ppl on the internet for rly no reason when  i could have replied to ur very nice fun wholesome message. i love torture. i miss memes.

“ i think the people who get the least enjoyment out of that are those so obsessed with getting upset with anyone thinking outside of their lines as if it equates to them “ EXACTLYYYYY

kekekekeke im glad u got it. it’s like with conservatives throwing around snowflake. now im beginning to question who the real complainers are. 

LMAO exactlyyyy. i posted a screenshot of this writer from twitter saying that exact thing. Like first of all, I’m...an adult? and if you are as well uh? i’m sorry for you but are we 12? But how is it affecting u this viscerally? And if it does why dont u...do...research? pihgofuaipoajghou but honestly everything u said. we’re trained to go into it with nothing. i was only around ur age when i started to get more serious about this stuff but you’re like lightyears ahead of where i was at 21. did i say this but i’m in iww and literally i can tell u in 2016 i did not think 2019 me would be in a union bc i told my friend in a train station that we don’t need unions. i was 23...but the thing is i didnt know what i was talking about. at all. and i knew i didnt know and she knew i didnt know and now i am the clown.

also yes at critical engagement. i had to learn so much through experience and this is tuff that i coudlnt be shielded from. there’s an empathy you kinda have to develop and this understanding that you move through the world as this person who is “nowhere and everywhere; nothing and everything” so i’ve always had to think about things differently just to survive. that’s also what can drag a lot of people towards it like theres so many black kpop fans bc i think a lot of the pain in SK can be mirrored (sort of) through our history. and theres currently a history now but it had to be forged. uh what was my point oh yea however i wouldnt have been able to move further if i didnt have my background to go off of  bc i knew something was off when i started getting into all these things (ill give u a hint) but if i had no prior knowledge and didnt have to think about it then the critical approach is either stale or stupid. 

i had to research but i dont understand how ppl are so bold with little to no research and understanding? thhey just inherently know with also like ZERO experience in what they need experience in. engaging critically means “how i see the world” with dashes of trying to be open adn understanding or whatever. actually that’s another thing like being afraid of criticizing things bc theyre foreign to you so u give it a pass (like we discussed) but it doesnt hAVE TO BEEEE JUST REAAAAAD and then take all the info ur teensy brain and apply it. be a normal human being and dont be fucking rude and racist. thats it! u can complain abt literally anything without being a dick.

as we start with LW and end with LW.....what do we think (i asked this already) omg please share wbl thoughts i THINK i know what ur talking about. well it could be two things; their rship when they came back and the physicality and then pei shou yi. i almost dont even want to use my brain to fucking look at that. i think wbl can get away with more bc of visual~*~*~* reasons (like literally, the look of the show. there’s more space to get lost in the frames. many thai dramas are a lot more literal? this isn’t the right word but it’s very heavily character focused particularly bc of $ i think) though good production also underscores flaws so i am also wrong. but like do u know what i mean? u have to kinda focus on it? or maybe it’s just cos like.....ur so used to it in thai bl idek. i’ve seen tw bl ofc. 

look i swear i will justify this forever bc there are some things we miss right but if u feel like someone’s a bad actor....theyre bad. it’s about tone movement etc etc etc and since most thai bl productions have 0 interest in that....well. they take these newbies and put them in these situations. we dont understand thai but if we see them and we’re like “wow this is really bad” then they’re bad lmao. IDC i will never be like cos idk what theyre saying NO WHY HE LOOK LIKE A ROBOT???????? DOES HE EMOTE? why is he CRYING WITH NO TEARS? and it’s not even a total requisite to cry with tears(i mean for me it is) but it’s just like what is happening on ur face right now young man????????

painful.

the inflection stuff is very valid ooh good point tho but that’s only a part of the piece. plus we get used to the way they communicate. like the ppl from sotus were prtty bad. i dont like that show but thats an ex of ppl liing the actors and the person i thought was better other ppl dont think that? well apparently hes a shitty guy but. um. so when theres decent acting its so glaring.

although i must say even tho i dont care for 2gether anymore and would never like to be reminded about its existence (only bc i just cringe lol) i honestly....didnt think bright was a bad actor? but people keep saying he is and i am much more inclined to believe them than myself. though i am not often dickmatized that could have been it. until he opened his mouth and ruined it and then i stopped paying attn.

although honestly i’m so much more critical than i could be positive. i have ben stumped for the last day about how i wasnt mad at his acting in the show. is it me? is it him? who’s......the wrong one.....(me) 

oh shit they have been denied? i haven’t been paying attn to whats been going on recently. i just got into it on MDL because of snowdrop. sometimes i literally cannot engage bc ill just be like alright well im black so this power button in my head is going off when ppl talk abt that shit. back in the day when kpop jawns were saying some real outta pocket anti black shit (now everyone is slick with it) it’d always be THEY DONT HAVE GOOGLE THEYVE NEVER SEEN A BLACK PERSON but really it’s like no...maybe they are just racist? that’s ok too.

also the past 2 weeks have been um atrocious bc how fucking easily people fell into the pit of white supremacy and started to turn their ire towards black people and making a competition between our groups just like they wanted. it’s not about the women who are dead anymore, who were sex workers, their womanhood, being asian, being poor anymore. it’s about how much black people get attention and why people only pay attn to us. i am not feeling very generous this week for ppl to excuse that hsit.

on a lighter note, ppl say that abt the whole husband and wife thing. i dont know how to explain how angry that shit makes me but maybe it’s because i do not want to think of my body in relation to a fucking penis at all hours of the day. if bls could kindly not do that it would be nice lmao 

yes there are a lot of those. who are only there to gawk lmao. and just idk worship bc of the cult of personality thing bc of how weird and open they have to be as actors. some of the others are people who /think/ theyre really smart (i think im asmart but i also think i am very dumb and i have adhd to prove that MEDICALLY!!!) but are actually not? or their observations arent great? or idk if they are they arent interesting? but i think well..........we have more refined palettes :P

jk also theres just different personalities. you and  i mesh more bc we have a lot of the same beliefs and are coming from the same place. that makes it easier to understand as well. i really try to remember that but some people are really weird so. again just...the perception of certain things even down to acting skills. but i also dont like.......believe this genre can really do anything at all. on one hand i want them to do it right bc it’s a piece of work so they should. be proud of it. cos most things arent advancing us bc representation and culturalism are a lie bla bla. it’s just that when the depictions are negative or not done well it adds to the problem as opposed to the things that are well done are fairly benign and can’t really pull us back (perf example is the black panther film. i woudl definitely not say it was transgressive as a literal work but visually it’s just stunning. and it’s sad that it’s stunning and surprising but still with basically an all black cast of mostly dark people abd like what it means in the zeitgeist yes. it’s also just a good movie. but it’s still imperialist prop and unfortunately and this is fucking pathetic to say it “opened eyes” in other countries where they hate black ppl and ignore their own racialized minorities HENNYWAYSSSS a better ex is moonlight except moonlight isnt mainstream and is indie tho...still thru a funnel of capital bc a24 but who cares bleed the fuckers dry is my motto. my point is moonlight is both a great work and doesnt bring any failures to the table and its existence helps in ways outside of art but they arent the defining things giving us material advancement sooooo i mean it’s complex (this is my conclusion to everything um guys it’s complex) 

er i had one more point in conjunction to above. oh yea so i like dont need all these extra things to make it progressive. like people really want more women in the show and i am honestly like i really dont. i dont want them to actively do this. if they cant do it naturally then let someone else do it. i am not asking for more bc i dont want it from them. when something comes along i embrace it but i do not see why women should be represented when the genre RELIES on patriarchy. there is no complete satisfying existence for the women in these series. i dont want it. i dont ask people to show us~*~* or respect~* like fuck no the people who make it make it and hopefully more will make it in the future but i will not beg bc THEY DONT WANT TO DO IT SO WOULD FORCING IT MAKE IT BETTER? just fucking leave them out entirely. that’s the answer if theyre gonna make nasty female characters then those bitches can geaux. we have other plcaes to be. booked. and. BUSY!

[birlcholtz]

you did bittyholtz so now how about bittyrans

bittyrans you say??? this is so fucking long it’s over 2.5k i’ve written full ass fics shorter than this i am going to bED

it starts with the PSLs, as so many things do. (do they???? idk i’ve only had like 2 psls in my life) PSLs turn into rans and bitty having weekly scheduled ‘get coffee and talk about the absolutely obscene lifestyle choices of the rest of our team,’ featuring holster and jack’s wardrobes, the green couch, and shitty’s inability to chew without talking at the same time, among other things

and THEN ‘coffee and bitch’ sessions turn into 'coffee and talk about whatever u feel’ sessions and eventually it just becomes a Thing. saturday mornings are for ransom and bitty. there’s still a lot of 'coffee and bitch’ happening, because it’s not like holster’s adidas slides and socks combo just went away, but they realize it’s not just expensive lattes and a half decent sense of fashion and hygiene that unites them. 

they deal with academic pressure in such different ways that it’s almost impossible to notice the similarities until they start talking more and more and realize they both feel that pressure (ransom because everything he turns in has to be perfect, bitty because he has a ridiculously hard time concentrating on things that don’t interest him, like for instance many of his classes), it’s just that ransom has nervous breakdowns that feature a lot of crying under the table and bitty bakes things as therapy until he’s forgotten all about whatever he needed to do.

so what happens when eric bittle (unofficially voted cutest member of smh 80 times) and justin oluransi (the most beautiful man at samwell) hang out a lot?

well, the first thing that happens is that people stare at them a lot as they walk around but ransom genuinely doesn’t notice because this happens to him all the time it’s never *not* happened and bitty notices but he figures it’s just because Ransom. u know.

ransom also finds bitty’s vlog, watches like 8 videos immediately (holster: dude are u ok), and barrels into the kitchen with his laptop in hand like BITTY CAN WE MAKE THIS

and bitty’s like oh sure! and ransom’s like. no. i mean can WE make this. i want to learn to make it and bitty’s like FUCK yeah

over the course of learning to make this dish ransom successfully wheedles bitty into letting him be on his vlog, bitty’s subscribers are Shook at this beautiful man just suddenly appearing when bitty has literally never had a guest before. he and ransom struggle to call each other by their first names the entire time and it’s fun and silly and they DO actually get a decent pie in the oven so it’s a success ('teaching my teammate to bake a _____’ sorry i didn’t think of a recipe lol. fill in whatever u want)

and then the comments on that video blow up, mostly with comments about ransom, some are just about how beautiful he is, some are like eric…. >.> why is this man on your channel when nobody else has ever been. eric do you have a boyfriend and where did you find him

bitty reads all these comments and does Not mention them to ransom but he’s mildly flattered that these people just assumed he was dating rans. because it’s hard to stand next to ransom and still feel attractive oops

BUT he also gets a bunch of new subscribers, which is why he asks ransom if he wants to be on the vlog again a few weeks later and ransom is like oh HELL yes

but it’s too late. bitty’s read all the comments asking if they’re dating. he never thought about ransom in that context before but he’s read all the comments now and he can’t stop thinking about what it would be like to date him. oops

they do the second video, and bitty firmly tells himself that they’re just friends and he’s just overthinking all of those comments, but also ransom smiling directly at someone is a force to be reckoned with and bitty literally cannot stop himself from smiling back (it’s a good thing they’re the only ones in the kitchen because anyone else would probably explode from observing it. bitty smiling is much more powerful than he knows)

okay and like. if bitty thought the comments on the first video were a lot. the sECOND video with justin oluransi?? it blows up. particularly because of one part where bitty catches ransom stealing a strawberry and just gasps and goes “justin” and people lose their minds over it. eric is so appalled. justin grins in a way that is only half apologetic and immediately reaches for another one and eric literally almost yeets the pie down the counter away from him. people set it to music on tiktok (i know tiktok wasn’t a thing while they were in college let me h a v e this)

and let it be known, ransom is also reading the comments on these videos, and he sees all the ones asking if he’s bitty’s boyfriend and he’s like haha wait what and tHEn he goes back and rewatches the videos he’s been in and like?? okay he can see why they think that. bitty puts his hands over ransom’s a lot and ransom slings an arm around bitty’s shoulders a lot but that’s just normal for smh??????? right??????? RIGHT??????????

too late. they’re both overanalyzing every single interaction now

(holster: bro did you see this tiktok of you and— ransom: and bitty losing five years off his life expectancy? yeah holster: nono this one’s set to don’t rain on my parade/the sound of silence/et cetera you have to watch it)

ransom still isn’t in most of bitty’s videos because honestly most of his stuff goes way over ransom’s level of baking knowledge. but he still watches them and it’s kind of nice to watch vlogs where bitty is so obviously in his element? the way he talks to the camera is so friendly and charming and the way he bakes is so efficient and professional. and because he’s a masochist he reads the comments on those ones too and finds a lot where people are asking where justin is. but mostly he’s focused on bitty and how obvious it is that this is bitty’s THING. he just exudes confidence and happiness and it’s kind of hypnotizing honestly

(he also goes back to bitty’s earliest vlogs and is like holy shit BABY BITTY. SO SMALL. and bitty in those videos is still charming but a little less calm and collected— the editing is a little less smooth, and he can’t quite stop himself from adding editorial comments about his aunt’s and his mother’s different techniques. it’s kind of adorable. and like, bitty is still adorable— wait what just crossed ransom’s brain???)

because bitty IS adorable, just a little more put together now. he still gets more excited by discussing types of flour than anyone else ransom has ever met, and he still bops along to whatever song is stuck in his head while he bakes, and when ransom sees bitty after bingeing roughly half of his videos and feels something in his chest lighten, he figures that’s probably going to be his new normal.

and people in the comments clamor for more videos with ransom, and ransom sees these comments, and bitty does too, and ransom seeing these comments is why he pokes his head into the kitchen when he knows bitty is filming, silently waves at the camera, and then leaves again before bitty’s even noticed that he’s there. it makes it into the final cut of the video and the comments section goes wild.

ransom and bitty still hang out plenty outside of doing vlogs together— bitty eventually gets a few dollars in ad revenue from the first video ransom was in and insists that they go on a celebratory unscheduled annie’s trip. (annie’s date energy intensifies)

and while they’re at annie’s/hanging out around campus/bitty has let ransom drag him to the library for some reason bitty can’t help but wonder what it would be like if he was actually dating ransom. he can’t deny that he thinks about ransom in that way now— it’s hard NOT to honestly?? like ransom has been objectively beautiful since the first day bitty met him (and before that, but y'know, not as relevant to bitty’s life) and maybe it’s just his imagination but he thinks that ever since they’ve started making these videos ransom’s smiles have lingered just a little longer and there are more of them, too. and the vlogs have also shown bitty a side of ransom that he doesn’t see a lot, because nobody sees it a lot— ransom trying something he isn’t already good at. throwing himself into it with enthusiasm, actually, and that NEVER happens. ransom is not great at handling failure? but bitty gets to see him cut loose and relax and laugh at his mistakes and he kind of loves it and loves this version of ransom he hasn’t seen before

and ransom, for his part, has been steadily falling for the sheer force of bitty’s charisma when he’s doing something he loves, ever since he first found bitty’s vlog. and as he looks closer he realizes it’s not just the vlog— bitty has always had these depths to him, he just kind of lets them out when he’s baking? and ransom feels kind of privileged to be able to see that side of him so regularly

(also i’m just saying that ransom is very into intelligence and watching bitty fire off answers without even blinking to obscure baking questions where ransom only understands about 30% of the words is a turn on)

but ransom’s become a fan favorite on bitty’s vlog, and he keeps making recurring appearances and even improves a little at baking (which bitty always comments on when he notices an improvement— it’s half chirpy and half genuine pride), and people in the comments BEG them to do a q&a for like. a couple of months. before bitty is like uhhh if i want to make money off of this channel i gotta give the people what they want

so he makes a normal vlog but at the end ransom pops in and they’re like hey we’re gonna do a q&a for our next video where eric answers baking questions and justin is also there since y'all really want him there for some reason??? (but bitty says it nicer and less confused than that)

bitty immediately realizes why ppl want ransom to be in the q&a so bad when about 25% of the comments are about baking and the rest of them are about bitty and ransom. roughly three-quarters of THOSE fully assume they’re dating and the rest of them are just asking if they’re dating.

so bitty is like um ransom?? we should probably address this in our q&a?? everyone really wants to know if we’re dating??

and this interaction is incredibly awkward. i need you all to know that. it’s incredibly awkward because bitty is like 'okay so like YES i like ransom in more than a friend way but this is literally the worst scenario ever i literally can’t believe my subscribers are calling me out for making eyes at him’ and ransom is like 'fuck fuck fuck i want to date bitty but i don’t want to make it weird is it weird??? because of his vlog?????? what do i do??????’

but anyway then ransom is like uh yeah we should address that! and then like. says nothing

and bitty’s like uuuuuuhhhhhhhhhhh. sooooooooooooo. what do we say

and ransom’s like. :0. um. (the amount of ums and uhs in this conversation are astonishing let me say) well. are we dating??

and bitty genuinely can’t tell if ransom actually meant that as a question or if it was sarcastic and he says as much and ransom is like no that was a real question i actually don’t know if we’re dating or not?

and bitty is like holy shit i can’t believe this is happening what the fuck and he says well. we should um. clear that up. before the q&a

and ransom’s like yeah we should. uh. like. we COULD be dating.

and bitty’s like ….yeah yeah we could. are we?

and ransom’s like do you want to be?

and bitty’s like do you want to be?

and ransom’s like i asked first and bitty’s like damn u got me there. and then he’s like yeah i …. kinda want to be dating and ransom is like swawesome me too glad we cleared that up, how was ur lit seminar and bitty is like HOLD ON JUSTIN OLURANSI because did that just fuckin happen??? we can’t just MOVE ON from that conversation that fast????

so they wind up talking about how basically bitty’s vlog inspired Feelings in both of them and it’s very emotional because ransom is like i love that i feel like i can make mistakes around you and bitty is like i love that you put in the effort to learn about what i care about and they go to annie’s because That’s What They Do and get matching drinks as they always do and smile at each other the whole time (bitty is also literally pinching himself because What The Fuck, how did i wheel JUSTIN OLURANSI) and then they go back to the haus and start picking the questions to respond to in their q&a

ransom does get busier and can’t spend as much time in bitty’s vlogs as usual but he helps bitty plan out what he’s going to talk about when, when to post, the ideal ratio of how-to videos versus just answering questions, and with his help bitty’s vlog starts getting a lot of attention and a lot of subscribers, like, exponentially fast

(it helps that they got memed so early on)

(it also helps that their q&a video where they confirmed they were dating was fucking adorable because they talked about how they got together and how a big part of it was bc of bitty’s vlog and it’s just the sweetest goddamn thing and that video totally blows up too)

(intentional celebrity eric bittle. accidental celebrity justin oluransi.)

it gets to a point where bitty is like. making legitimate money from his vlog and he INSISTS on compensating ransom in some way (ransom: i like helping you??? bitty: and i like making my vlog doesn’t mean i don’t like getting things out of it) so they work out a system where ransom gets some money for helping bitty plan out videos and edit and he gets some more for videos he’s in and like?? they’re icons. 

some headcanons: 

ransom successfully convinces bitty to wear sperrys

bitty boops ransom’s nose so often that there are compilations of it

bitty also spends a lot of time with ransom when he’s studying for tests because being just like. physically there, like leaning on ransom’s shoulder or holding his hand helps reassure ransom a little

ransom always holds bitty’s face in his hands before kissing him and bitty thinks it’s the best thing ever

there’s an entire swallow issue about them

bitty’s name in ransom’s phone is 'eric butter

bitty tells his parents ransom has been helping him with his vlog before he tells them that they’re together, and coach is like 'nice’ and suzanne bursts with such effusive joy (because ransom is great with parents) that bitty feels himself grinning

the Thesis Battle of 2017 is less increasingly sneaky methods of convincing bitty to write his thesis and more 'bitty read this article on the pomodoro method and then work on ur thesis for twenty minutes so you can bake pie later’ (dex asks ransom if they should cut off bitty’s oven access and ransom is like hmm. well if u do just make sure it doesn’t affect how the kitchen looks because if he can’t even film vlogs answering people’s questions then he’ll be really frustrated)

ransom and bitty shop for clothes together all the time and when it’s winter clothes it’s a constant battle between things that will keep them warm and things that will look cute. they definitely have discussions where bitty’s like 'okay do you think this is warm enough for me’ and ransom’s like 'no that’s warm enough for me you’re from georgia’

both of their snapchat games are INCREDIBLY strong. ransom’s stories are a work of art and bitty is a master of filters and they are constantly communicating via snapchat

ransom also keeps track of all the memes that surface from bitty’s channel and saves them to show bitty later

bitty’s channel gets bigger and bigger and more and more popular and his creative team gets bigger and more complicated to reflect that? but at the same time ransom is always his no. 1

[lizzibennet]

1/2: Genuine question: do u have advice for USAmericans on empathy w/o condescension? ik you reblogged a post about how Americans only ever seem to care about THEIR issues/POV. But at the same time, ik you talked about your frustration with Americans acting as though other countries are the only ones with issues, or going "it must be hard to deal with X" as though we're above it. A lot of the time, I wanna be sympathetic to a friend, but I DON'T want to come off like I'm implying that I'm better

(2/2) bc i often worry that if i clarify stuff and go "oh and idk if you know, but [american thing] is...." or "oh, are you familiar with [american thing]?" that it's patronizing? i don't want to necessarily treat friends from other countries like i expect them to know less, but ofc, i don't also want to be so american-centric that i assume everyone always knows what i mean. and likewise, i want to be sympathetic if i see a friend's country in the news, but NOT come off as patronizing by asking

this is a delicate question simply bc i’m sure most of the time you don’t even realize what you’re doing or why you come off as patronizing so i’m going to try my best to explain why it comes across aas such and from there it might be easier for you to consider what u say. so the “it must be hard to deal with X” is condescending when it’s not directed at a person necessarily, it’s not an expression of empathy but an assertion about a fault that the us has too. it’s the insistence on pointing the finger at a “lesser” country for having this fault that is apparently so grave but the reluctance to accept that your country has that exact same issue that is bothersome, almost as if it’s only an issue when it’s convenient to make another culture seem worse than it is. like one that happened very recently to me was in a group of us friends in which i’m the only brazilian (really, i’m the only one of two out of like 20 who doesn’t live in the usa) they were like “yeah brazil is dealing with shit with a fascist leader” in a conversation i wasn’t online for and when i saw it later i was like. so you think your leader isn’t a fascist, huh, but mine is. to be clear- it’s not that i’m uncomfortable that he’s being referred to as a fascist, he is one, it’s that that word is never used towards trump in that group, even though my friends are WokeTM and definitely anti-trump. even then, they are reluctant to concede that their country is also a shithole in many senses that mine is, too. imagine that- a brazilian comparing their country to the us! the sacrilege! it’s that feeling i get. there was this time when we were talking about something politics related and i said something about trump and one of these friends was like “well it’s not like you can say much with bolsonaro in power” and it’s like. that’s not untrue but why bring bolsonaro in the picture? so i can’t discuss politics because my president sucks? that gives me more reason to be engaged in it, not less. why are you incapable of admitting fault in the us? and that is because even the Wokest of americans has it ingrained in their brain that the us is the greatest country in the world. so i’d suggest you monitor that reaction- when someone shit talks your country, is your first reaction to deny? to deflect? this is what i’m talking about:

so “non americans” (south americans, central americans, mexicans and canadians are still americans, so following this line of thot we can still tell you shit about america because we do, in fact, live in it but whatever) can’t tell you your country is horrible, even though it IS. why? we’re told that our country is shit, that our culture is wrong, that our beauty actually isn’t beauty, that our traditions are weird from the moment we’re born. why can’t you bear to hear that hey, your government is corrupt and horrible and your institutions treat people like shit? that’s not even specific to the us, that’s capitalism 101. why does it bother you that a “non american” points that out? because deep down you only think a “better” country could be critical, and deep down you still believe the us is the greatest country in the world. this person would never admit that they think this because they have a colonialist mindset that is, by default, racist as all hell, but that is in fact why “non americans” especifically telling them shit bothers them. they’re speaking about perceived injustice without realizing the place of privilege they’re in. this person above is like “if what the us is doing is directly affecting your country by all means speak up” as if the only countries affected by the us are the ones with troops stationed, as though that’d shut up the rest of us, showing they actually know shit about their own history and how it affects others’. i’m using this example because look at the retweets! people agree with this because they’re not aware and they live in comfortable ignorance, and it’s this ignorance you will have to go against- it will NOT be comfortable to you and you’ll wish you could be like “hey i suffer too” which isn’t the point, you know, the point is that your privilege actively hurts other people and to act like it’s an independent entity from how you interact with other people is disingenuous

to go “oh idk if you know this but” is definitely patronizing bc like a person from a “third world” country who is even minimally well informed knows, i assure you. if you would expect a local friend to know, chances are that if it’s a country-wide issue we will know, too. we probably won’t know about the particularities of your town’s mayor, but we will know about the bill that was passed that affected your state and about the protests in your city because we watch the news too, and world wide news is about fifty-fifty local news and international news (which, to you, “international” news would just be your local news). “are you familiar with x” is fine to ask imo but one thing that is also bothersome is the assumption that someone who lives in the same continent as you has such a different life that we won’t know idk like how a private post office works or something. even countries that are VERY dissimilar culture-wise are more similar than people think and, say, a south american country and the us are really not as dissimilar as us people seem to think. like recently i saw a youtuber comment on this case of a child singer who was very sexualized, and he was like “idk if that’s common in brazil but that’s not okay” and it’s like. WHAT do you think is common in brazil??? pedophilia?????? children shaking their ass isn’t okay anywhere, why the fuck would you assume culturally we’re so far away from you, of COURSE it is more common than it should be but do you really think there aren’t kids twerking in your country, do you genuinely think people here are inherently more sexual than people there just because, i- UGH headache emoji. that’s not to say each hasn’t its particularities but i guess what i’m trying to say is that the exotification of an entire country is bothersome. if you act like i, a privileged middle class white girl from brazil am a savage and ignorant and uncultured just because i don’t live in the us, even though my life in many aspects is quite similar to yours, then it PAINS me to think of what you’d think of even more different people, like my gran who was born in the middle of the amazon- if you think ill of me (even if unconsciously) then what will you think of her and her people, you know? even without much context my friends from the us get what i say when i speak about things that differ in our lives as middle class 20 year olds from different countries, because again it’s not so dissimilar, and if they don’t get it, they ask. from the get go i assume that they’re intelligent enough to fill in the blanks, so i don’t like being assumed less than capable of following a conversation just because i don’t have every minute detail, and in general, i feel like the entire population of my country is often assumed less than capable. when we encounter someone from outside who hasn���t a lot of context of how things go here, that is simply it - they’re a person without countext and we will help them understand it - but when it’s us who lack the context there is a clear implication that we do because we’re stupid and we should learn on the spot because we should know already anyway. you’re not being too american centric when you assume your friends are at least partially well informed, you’re being realistic tbh lol to assume we’re any less is to assume we’re less intelligent than you. expecting people to know is bad but assuming people won’t know worldwide huge topics that any person with an internet connection would is also not great

genuinely i think if you see a friend’s country in the news and want to ask if they’re okay and their opinion on it i don’t see any occasion in which you’d be condescending unless you tried really hard to be LOL like i think your friends will generally just be happy you thought of them. checking up on them is actually the kind of behavior we don’t expect from a self-centered usa person so i just think they will appreciate your concern. just don’t be like “oh sweet summer child cinnamon pie baby angle :-( poor u on a shithole country,,,,,,,” nor “wow must be hard dealing with [basic problem every other country also goes thru, including urs]. pooooooor thing who doesn’t have access to civilization :-((((((((((((((”

i’m sorry i’m so snarky in this sometimes but it’s because it couldn’t be more simple: if you think of the issue and consider it in a worldwide context, don’t speak about it as though your experience is law, don’t forget that other countries have other political contexts, and yet, don’t forget that normal people just like you live in those settings. literally just remember there’s seven billion people on this planet and b like oh shit, am i being ethnocentric rn,,,, it should be pretty clear tbh it’s not rocket science.

[lorddiiavolo]

*shyly slides url over*

i made the meme up. you don’t tell me what you always wanted to say “bEfoRe 2020 eNdS”, i do. send your url.

    can I just start off by saying I’m Thoroughly pleased that I got to meet you in the year of 2020?  of all the chaos that’d happened, I’d say you’re a surprise bundle of chaos that I got to meet but you aren’t rly chaos per se - you’re another one of those surprise, mellow friends that I had the privilege of meeting.  you’re such a sweet person, Brit - ignoring your tendency to strew angst all over the place. it’s a good quality to have though, I didn’t get enough angst in the past couple of years anyway, you keep me on my toes with your angst lmao.

  AND for having just 10 months to talk and get familiar with each other ( I think we both have the tendency to not approach people first for various but also possibly some similar reasons ), we came quite a ways.  you were always on the dash and I always was trying to figure out ways how to get us to write more bc Diavolo was digging his heels in the dirt with Solomon akjsha but despite how much Diavolo might’ve Not been fond of Solomon, your portrayals are part of the reason I’ve come to rly like the muses you write for ( especially the ones I’ve seen before but haven’t really paid much attention to: Vil, Solomon, Barbatos but I liked him - you just amped it up with your portrayal, Byakkomaru even tho idk who he is - your portrayals have me like :eyes: ).   the amount of detail and love and passion you put into them, how you explain their inner workings and why they do what they do, it gives me ( and I’m sure many others ) a different perspective. it’s a refreshing change of perspective and you always have me open-minded when it comes to the characters you take on. I even kind of take your portrayal for what the characters are, at least the ones that I don’t know but kfsja none of it is done in a way that's obviously out of character.   you’re so thoughtful with not only your portrayals but with how you treat people.  you always put a lot of work into everything. every writing, every relationship, every project you do, be it a meticulous process, I understand but you do it in such a way that it’s seamless.  you’re an overachiever ( no, I will not hear your objections, you came for what my thoughts are about u and Im delivering, u cannot intervene with humbleness and/or objections. shush, be silent ) and that’s something I can recognize.  you dive headfirst into projects and portrayals but you come out of it on top, and that’s just Brit.  it doesn’t take a close friendship to realize that, either.  that’s something admirable.  and I hope you carry that trait into every single thing you do - not to a point of burnout but in healthy dose.

  in this new month - seeing as we got to talk a little more afjsah I really hope we can do more. I’m bad at telling people about what Im doing kfsja things that interest me or just talking about my day but that’s something I wanna do with u and a lot of other people that I got to meet and get more familiar with. you’re an anchor on my dash, a presence I’ve gotten so used to seeing that when I don’t see you pop up normally I go and see if ur up to anything just for the sake of knowing.   I hope you don’t take these as just words when I say you’re someone who I’ve gotten used to having around and I plan on being around a little more bc you’re just good company to have.  no tension, no time-limit, no negative strings attached rly you’re just someone who I see vibing on the dash and someone who tolerates the bullshittery I let Diavolo do kASDFJ SO WITH THAT BEING SAID ---- thank you for being here. and for giving me a chance to find my bearings with this blog bc I didnt know what I was doing at first lmao THAT GOES IN HAND with your support. from small amounts of it to you just up front responding to shitposts and interacting ooc in general, like, it’s small to some people but its a lot to me and it always makes me smile a little when I see you bc its like “we’re bonding” LMAO you’re GREAT, Brit. you’re SMART, you’re wELLREAD, you’re just as shitposty as I am but u get it. you’re someone I didn’t think I’d even be able to talk to and yet here we are. and what’s more is your angst balances out my dash tbh lmao. it’s wonderful, pls keep it up - bring the tears for me and I hope you’re ready for more trouble from not only Diavolo but myself >:3c ily, treat yourself kindly and DONT BE SO HARD ON YOURSELF IM JUST AS STUBBORN BUT LISTEN I WILL REMIND YOU. now pls drink water. thank you for being here still, Brit.

[roses-and-lightnings]

Cake

Summary: Nishikage could never have guessed how Nosaka would make that day the happiest and most special of all.

Pairing: NishiYuu (Nishikage x Nosaka)

Word Count: 1655

A/N: Today (February 10th) is Seiya Nishikage’s birthday! Here’s my gift for him and for all of you. This story is also availabe in brazilian portuguese. Rated G for general audiences. 

Warnings: Fluffy, romance

P.S: This story takes place after episode 16 of Orion no Kokuin.

It was certainly a melancholic day. Nishikage was lying on his bed, holding the back of his head and covering his ears with his arms, waiting for time to pass by while feeling the warmth of the sun's rays coming through the bedroom window. Everything had been very quiet lately.

Since the new advisor to the Emperor of Tactics had been appointed, Nosaka spent his time with Ichihoshi, discussing new strategies, devising new plans and having meetings to talk about the opposing team's skills and how to overcome them, and the boy found himself alone in most these days. It was not a very easy feeling to deal with at first, after all it seemed that Nosaka was abandoning him to be with someone else, but Nishikage soon realized that it was not like that.

Nosaka would never forget him that easily. He was the Emperor's knight, after all. Just because he had gotten a new “squire”, it didn't mean he would put his most loyal companion aside. And most important of all, the strategist had been very happy since the international championship started, and Nishikage knew how much soccer had an important role in his life now. Much more than helping him to achieve his goals, the goalkeeper wanted his happiness at all costs and would fight to the end for it. There would be nothing to compare with the value of his smile when he played. If Ichihoshi was also part of that, then Nishikage would be forever grateful. There was no reason for anger or jealousy.

But still, he missed his friend. Especially on days like this. As there was never much to do, he had already hung out with several team members during the week, had already gone to the gym, trained, and now he was just bored. Maybe it would be a good idea to see how his partner was doing, after all.

Suddenly, a slight knock on the door caught his attention. Immediately, he recognized the voice that spoke right away:

- It's me. May I come in?

Nishikage quickly sat on the bed to properly welcome him.

- For sure.

Nosaka Yuuma gently opened the door, warming up his friend's chest as he entered with a smile, something significantly unusual. He carried a medium-sized white box, tied impeccably with a red ribbon, indicating that he had made it himself. In the other hand the redhead boy carried three balloons of different colors: blue, yellow, and another one white, the same colors as the team’s jacket.

The youngest one pulled the chair from the desk and sat near the goalkeeper. Strangely, he hadn't brought his tablet and was way too informal for the occasion. Nishikage wondered what it was all about, while watching him tie the balloons to the chair’s arm. Even if he did not understand, the presence of his admired emperor was very comforting.

- They’re nice, aren't they? - Nosaka's voice got his attention.

- Yes, very nice. - Nishikage replied.

- I tried to find some other colors, but those were all that I could find around here. I hope you like it, in any way.

- Nosaka-san, should I ask... what this is all about?

The redhead looked puzzled at his companion, and then gave him sort of a gracious laugh.

- You don’t know? -  The strategist asked.

- No.

- For real?

Negative. Nosaka kept the smile on his face as he handed him the gift.

- Happy birthday, Nishikage.

...

Before meeting Nosaka, Nishikage had never celebrated his birthday properly. Negligent parents and the fact that he spent most of his time away from home never provided such things. Upon entering the Ares education system, it was taught that birthday parties and other celebrations were nothing special. They were superfluous events and only suited for mediocre people. Gradually, he started to not care about his day. But there was Nosaka, giving him that cute little gift box and holding those balloons as if that date was the most important thing in the world.

There was no way he could describe how surprised Nishikage felt at that moment, taking the gift that his companion had extended to him, with his trembling hands. Putting it on his lap, he swallowed when his heart beating strongly, while staring at the beautiful red ribbon.

- N-nosaka-san...

Nosaka sighed.

- I must admit I was a little uneasy about it. I've never done anything like this before. - He looked at his friend. - I wondered you should be feeling lonely lately, and I thought I could...

He cleared his throat and restored his almost lost composure. At that point, Nishikage did not know what to do other than pay attention to every word coming out of his mouth.

- There are some things I want to say to you. Birthdays are important occasions, right? So it took me a while to plan this. Still, it's not like I have experience in the matter.

He was unexpectedly quiet, so the emperor continued.

- Nishikage.

- Yes?

He kept his gaze serious when saying the following words:

- It really is not like me to do and say such things, but I want you to know that... it is a privilege and a pleasure to be with you. I am grateful for all of your work, and your company is important to me. I offer you my congratulations and I wish your happiness today.

A broad smile took form on the older one's face. Happiness had flown throughout his body when he heard his emperor's kind words. This was, without a trace of doubt, one of the best days of his entire life, and one more time, all thanks to that person. Meanwhile, Nosaka felt as if a load had been lifted from his shoulders when he realized that he had managed to make him happy. He had already admitted being nervous, and the truth is that he would not have known what Nishikage's reaction would be to something so sudden. There were things that not even the great Emperor of Tactics could predict.

- Aren't you going to open it? – Nosaka broke the silence, taking them out of their trance, just looking into each other's eyes.

- Yes, of course! - He replied, awkwardly.

Nosaka watched as the goalkeeper carefully undid the bow and opened the box.

- Chocolate. It's your favorite, isn't it? - Although Seiya never told him that directly, Nosaka never missed any details. - I wanted something we could share, and I thought you would like it.

He did not answer.

- Nishikage?

Nishikage didn’t wish to be too emotional, but after opening that box, he could no longer fight the tears, which ran down his face. His eyes were shining brightly, and his face had taken on a slightly reddish tone, unsettling the redhead in front of him.

- What happened?

The youngest one got up from the chair and sat down next to Nishikage on the bed, trying to find out what was wrong. Nosaka was immediately very surprised to see that the phrase written in red syrup on top of the beautifully decorated with chocolate icing cake was "I love you", instead of "happy birthday".

He knew that asking Asuto and Ichihoshi to bake the cake had been a bad idea.

- N-n-nosaka-san ... - He stammered, incredulous.

It was the emperor's turn to blush. He partially covered his mouth with his fingers trying to look for a way to justify the mess. Meanwhile, Nishikage's heart was racing wildly, wondering if that was true, but without the courage to ask.

Although he did not accurately know the meaning of love, Nosaka dared to say:

- Well, that was not my intention, but there is no lie in those words.

Nishikage's grayish eyes turned to his emperor, not believing what he had just heard.

- It may not seem so, Nishikage, but do I care a lot about you.

Hesitantly, he put his hand over the older one's hand and took a deep breath, something he had never done before, manifesting that there was something very important to be said. He looked up seriously until he met Nishikage's eyes, and said:

- Even if I don’t unveil that... Nishikage, you are the most important person in my life. You were always by my side and changed my world like no one ever did before. If those words can tell you that, Nishikage, I do lov...

He was interrupted when the older one threw his arms around him, pulling his body close to his in a tight hug. The tears that had already dried up fully returned, now in the midst of sobs and the laughter that insisted on coming out, without knowing or caring if he should or was authorized to do so. Since he met him, Nosaka had never seen Nishikage so happy, and he had also never been hugged that way. And feeling that heat was a good and brand-new sensation. Something he could get used to from now on.

Getting carried away, Nosaka put his hands on Nishikage's back and hugged him back, allowing himself to close his eyes and enjoy the funny feeling of being in someone's arms. It didn't take long for the redhead to smile too.

When he was released, Nishikage wiped away his tears and admired once again the beautiful gift that his friend had given him. Nosaka looked at him cornerly, trying to understand the mixture of feelings that ran through his veins at that moment.

- Nosaka-san... Thank you so much! - And that was all he managed to say, in a kind smile.

The emperor put his hand on his knight's shoulder.

- I’m the one to thank you. Happy birthday!

In fact, Nishikage could never have guessed how Nosaka would make that day the happiest and most special of all.

(THIS STORY WILL CONTINUE ON APRIL 2ND, 2020!)

A/N: This is it! I hope you liked it! I’m proud to bring my first fanfiction to this blog. Thank you all, and happy birthday, Nishikage Seiya! 💞💕🎉✨🎂

Edit: I’d like to tag some of my friends and inspiration. @sn-u @misutorekun @krimkl @shawn-and-aiden-frost-9 and @peachesandglitter. Their lovely art, good work and support helped me a lot 💗 I would be honored to dedicate this fic to them. Thank you all a lot 🌺

[humanitymed]

What are some things you wish you knew before getting into med school?

Oh boy, that’s a great question. 

Medical school is hard…like, really hard. I heard many times that getting in is the hardest part, and yes, once you’re in they try REALLY hard to keep you there, but that doesn’t mean it’s easier. I will say that some medical students do feel that its perceived difficulty is exaggerated, but that’s not the case for me. I’ve struggled every step of the way and continue to struggle, and there were moments in first and second year where I thought to myself, if I knew it was going to be this hard, would I still have pursued this path? Now as a third year, I am so in awe of the incredible privilege I have to be here, and just blown away by how cool my life is, and it makes it feel much more like the hard work is worth it. There is light, too. Medical school is a mental game more than anything else, sometimes it’s hard not to let your inner criticism defeat you, especially alongside criticism from residents and attendings. You will be constantly fighting the urge to compare yourself to your classmates, even though you’re not really competing with them anymore. People will say hurtful things to you without realizing it. Your number one priority before starting medical school (and during) should be taking care of your mental health. 

You will hurt and disappoint family members and friends, and you might lose some of them. You will be busy in medical school in a way that is difficult for other people to understand unless they’ve done it themselves. That isn’t to say you can’t have fun anymore or see your family, but you may find yourself saying no a lot more often than you’d like to. When you tell people how busy you are or how hard it is, you will encounter people who think you’re exaggerating or being selfish. They’ll assume it’s like undergrad or like their own master’s or other degrees, or even think it’s easier because it’s pass/fail. The reality is that medical school requires you to learn a very large amount of information in a much shorter amount of time than in undergrad, and because this requires a LOT of memorization, it inevitably requires a LOT of time. If you fall too far behind it’s almost impossible to catch up. You also have a lot of things you have to do outside of class, like research if you want to be competitive for residency. You will also have classes on clinical skills like the physical exam or motivational interviewing or delivering bad news. You may be assigned a doctor to work with every week or every other week. That isn’t to say you don’t have time to do things. It’s just a lot less, and you have to prioritize. I’ve seen a lot of my classmate’s romantic relationships end during medical school. It’s put a lot of strain on my own relationship. It’s just hard for people to put up with, and you will carry that guilt. You have to learn how to live life in the time that you DO have, and not to feel like you’re postponing things until after residency. You can’t do that. You’ll be miserable.

I think those are the major things I wish I knew. I think I thought life would just get easier once I got into medical school, but that hasn’t really been the case for me. That being said…I feel incredibly, incredibly lucky to be here. This career is an extraordinary privilege and a blessing. It just requires a lot of sacrifice sometimes - sacrifice you don’t always anticipate. If you’re going into this career you should really love what you’ll be doing and studying, because it asks a lot of you.

[uniqueharreh]

Poems For Her - Chapter Two

P R E V I O U S CHAPTER 

I started visiting the café often, maybe in hope to see your beautiful eyes again, maybe in the hope our eyes will meet. I even tried some sweet stuff from the menu, to try to understand you. To see what your tastes are. And they were quite delightful.

But it was around ten days since you haven’t shown up at all. Not even for a go to coffee. I swallowed my pride a few times and asked the waiter for you even.  After I entered the café a few more times,  he already shook his hand in a sign that you haven’t been there the entire day.

I was wondering what were you doing. Maybe you moved out of the country, or maybe you were here just getting inspiration for your art, that’s literally what I do. Or maybe you found better café, that was quieter and without weird strangers staring at you. I shouldn’t stare at you that much, right?

But I stare at the sun often, even though I know my eyes will get watery and hurt a bit afterward. I can’t seem to look away from beautiful things in life. They just kind of make you to stare, to get in all the beauty, to appreciate the little imperfections. I’m sorry I couldn’t look away.

I was in the middle of my second tea, humming a melody to the lyrics I have written when you sat right in front of me, across the whole café. Sometimes I even looked there in the hope you’d be sitting there, sipping on your black coffee. And maybe having the first taste of a cake sitting in front of you.

I couldn’t get the melody quite right, and it was already bumming me, my band loved the lyrics. They even asked if it’s about anyone in particular. I lied. I didn’t need to be mocked from being head over heels for you, and not talking to you even. Maybe you were a horrible person, the kind of person everyone keeps the distance from. But I might even never find out now because you stopped going there.

It was maybe an hour to closing when doors opened and the little bell announced a new customer, I didn’t even have to look up, to know it was you. During the rainy day, your presence seemed like it was mid-summer and everyone was trying to hide from the sunshine. I smiled, when I saw you taking your usual spot. But you didn’t seem alright.

Your nose was a bit red, and your eyes were bit watery. You seemed like you had a cold. You left your golden locks out of your bun, the second you sat down and looked around. Meeting my eyes, staring into them for a bit, before you formed a small and tired smile on your face. My left lip had risen a bit more than the other.

You weren’t even writing, Celine. You were just sitting there, enjoying your coffee and trying to choose something from the menu. The waiter stopped at you for longer than usual, you had a sincere conversation, you both laughed at something and after he took your final order, he left. But your eyes found mine again. And you stood up, walking right to my table.

I would lie if I said that my heart wasn’t beating fast. Faster than usual. Faster than before or after sex. Or any adrenaline sport I was forced to do by my friends.

“Hello, Jean over there told me you’ve been asking after me?” your English was perfect, a bit of a French accent, but I could tell you were fluent. “I’m Celine.”

I should probably close my mouth, maybe even wipe out the drool forming in the corner of my mouth. She was so beautiful, your voice was kind of high pitched, yet not squeaky. It was sort of calming, comforting even.

I.. uh... should answer. Please answer now so you don’t look like a staring weirdo.

“I, yes. I’m Harry.” I offered to shake your hand and you accepted. Thank God you did, because I got to feel the softness of your palms. You sat in front of me.

“So, what do you do for a living Harry? You’re not from here, are you?” you had a beautiful smile, the one that brightens your day in the morning, even though you had a pretty shitty week.

“I am a musician, singer. I try to be a songwriter, so, that’s basically why I am in Paris. To get inspiration.” I smiled at you, I noticed that you were focusing yourself a lot on what I was saying and it took you a second to process all that.

“A singer? Where from the UK are you?”

“I was born in Cheshire, but now I am living in Manchester and London, it’s kind of fifty situations.” I smiled politely at you. “How did you know I’m from England?” I started laughing a bit, already knowing what got me caught.

“Well, you have a very strong accent.” you were laughing with me, but not full from the heart, more like a giggle saying “you fool”.

“Your accent is very beautiful,” I said all of sudden and I noticed your cheeks to turn a bit reddish.

“You are a straight forward man, aren’t you, Harry?” you smiled at me brightly. “So, got any songs inspired by the beautiful Paris?” you sat on the chair in front of mine and watched my every move. I didn’t know how to tell you, that you inspired one. I never did that with anyone. Maybe my sister, Gemma. She inspired many soft rock ballads because she was one of the purest people walking on the Earth.

She was that kind of person, who cared. She cared if other’s were well informed, she tried to change the knowledge of the public, and it was going well. She was well praised for what she was doing, and how she was using her platform. She was all about social media, while I was quite opposite.

“One yes, but I think you’d have to hear it for yourself when it’s out.” I smiled mischievously and you started laughing.

“You think I’d like your music?”

“I think you might. Depends on your taste.”

“I don’t really listen to many new artists, to be honest. I’m staying faithful to music like Fleetwood Mac, Rolling Stones, Queen. A lot of those, maybe even Amy Winehouse, I really love her.” your eyes were playing multiple colors and you had a bit of a sparkle in them, you loved talking about your taste. About what you love and what makes you happy.

“I see we have similar music taste.” I smiled nicely, and you looked me in the eyes, staring for a bit and then let out a quiet chuckle. You were so lively, an open book. But it was confusing to read in you.

“What song you like from Fleetwood Mac? I think I love Dreams the most.”

“Personal favorite? I can’t really tell. There’s too many. But currently, it’s You Make Loving Fun. I would love to play with them once. Or at least to meet them, to be honest. Stevie Nicks is my hero. One of my inspiration in music. In why I do what I do.” I said honestly, even though many people thought it was weird to have a woman as a musical inspiration.

“It’s interesting. You saying a woman musician is your inspiration. Many ordinary men would be ashamed to admit that.” and you said, what everyone was thinking. “But it’s interesting in a good way. I think some female artists don’t get enough credit only because they are women. So, when a man is brave enough to admit, that woman inspired him. I find it beautiful. And so pure.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, it shows you clearly have a beautiful and brave soul.”

“Thank you, really, it means a lot, coming from you.”

* * *

We talked a lot. You let me get to know you, but as a perfect lady, you never let out too much. You know how to keep me around, and how to keep me interested. After Jean, the waiter interrupted us because of the café closing, we decided to take a walk. Maybe I could walk you home, is what I was thinking.

“Are your books in English as well?”

“What, are you interested to read my poetry?” she started laughing as if it was so weird to long after reading what her mind puts together.

“I love poetry. So yes. Nothing to laugh about out.”

“You’re so feminine.” I think that you were the first person in my entire life to ever address that. I was indeed in touch with my feminine side. I loved exploring who I am, and maybe two, three years ago, I just realize that liking some feminine clothes and activities wasn’t wrong.

“I know, I’m quite proud of that.” I laughed a bit nervously.

“Really? I think it’s interesting.” and you thought a lot of things about me were interesting, but your tone never specified whether it was a good interesting or bad interesting. “I think, the world needs more men that aren’t toxically masculine. That isn’t afraid to admit they like something, that is by society declared as a women’s thing.”

“Are you actually reading my mind?” I looked at you a bit shocked and stopped walking.

“Do you think so as well? Interesting.” you let out a wonderful smile, followed by a giggle. I think I fell in love. And I barely knew you.

“So, your books, are they in English? We kind of walked away from that topic with more important talk.”

“Yes, they’re translated, I think, they sound better in French though.”

“Everything sounds better in original, doesn’t it?”

“Of course, Harry. Everything is the best when it’s not edited when it just sort of comes out of your mouth, you know. It doesn’t take away the substance from the original art, the mood I was when I was writing the piece. Some poetry is just meant to be written in the original language. But of course, it’s a business to some.”

“You seem pretty upset, about the additional translate.” I noticed you were frowning your brows a bit, and after I mentioned you being upset, you took a deep breath, maybe even counted to ten.

“Oh not at all. Just a bit disappointed.”

I nodded, because you were already lost in your thoughts, and we just walked in silence. You, Celine, you were an incredible woman, worth thousands of songs written about you. You deserved any artist this world had to offer, to get inspired by you. Your mind was a magical place, and I was glad, I was the one privileged to take a walk with you. Even without talking, I felt our connection.

“Sing me something,” you said all of sudden, interrupting me from my thoughts about you.

“You want me to sing?” I laughed a little and cleared my throat.

“Of course, it’d be a pity if you couldn’t serenade me.”

“You want me to serenade you? But I don’t have my guitar with me.” I laughed nervously. I never serenaded anyone. I just didn’t have the chance. And oh Celine, I'd sing all your favorite songs just to make you happy. And I felt a bit like a fool, to fall for a woman like you. So easily. So deeply.

“We could go to your place, you could play your guitar and we could order some food. In exchange, I could read you some of my poetry?” you were certain about the activities, your cheeks a bit red. But you were sure you want to get to know me, your body language showed it clearly.

“Is that a date?”

“Rendez-vous,” you said with your beautiful French accent, and I nearly fell to my knees for you.

Rendez-vous it was.

[helihi]

Farewell OITNB - The Good, the Bad, and the Dirty

So... Orange is the New Black ended. I binge watched the last season in 2 days, and I’ve got some thoughts. The last season was def better than we had ben getting for the past couple of years.

Beware spoilers ahead:

The Good

This season was definitely better than... IDK everything after season 5? One of the main issues of OITNB had, as the show progressed, was the writers addiction with throwing new characters into the mix, and although that makes sense in context, it’s a bad practice for a show.

I watched Chernobyl after it came out, and one of the characters, Ulana Khomyukl, is not based on a real person, but a group of people that actually existed and helped Valery Alekseyevich Legasov. Though being mentioned by named would have honored the real people, her character worked perfectly for a show. You can’t have a huge cast, not only because you don’t have enough screen time to showcase all of them and present them as 3D characters, but also because it will detract from the show’s substance.

Well, rest assured that the writers of OITNB didn’t make that mistake, they dialed back to the most of the OG cast to properly give them a send off (Taystee, Crazy Eyes, Piper, Alex, Nicky, Red, Lorna, Cindy, Daya, Aleida, Gloria, Flaca, María, Dogget, Caputo, and Figeroa), while also giving the better of the newest addition a coherent plot line ( Artesian McCullough, Tamika Ward, Karla, and Joel Luschek to some extent).

Though I have a section at the end for how I personally feel about each character’s story lines, I have to say Taystee’s, Caputo’s, and Nicky’s storylines are the best of the season. T and Mr. Caputo’s stories are interlinked, specially with Ward’s, but they retained the original message of the show: the penitentiary system is broken, fucked up, and it hurts people (+ it makes corporations money, thanks to season 4 onward).

I AM SO HAPPY THEY GOT RID OF BADDISON SO EARLY, I HATED HER GUTS. Part of the biggest clean up efforts from the writers, was getting rid of people who would interfere with a clean and tight end, which included killing Daddy off (I’m so sorry for her), beating the shit out of the most unanimously hated additions of season 6 and throwing her off, and giving most of Max’s characters a secondary role or a background role (let’s be honest Adeola should running the gang).

Huge thanks to Larry for doing something right in his life: he is correct about Piper, it’s almost as if the writers were aware of how the audience views Piper.

Though some storylines hit you in the gut, they do stay believable. A happy ending for everyone was not only impossible, but incoherent with the type of story they were telling. I do have to say I’m not happy about a couple, but we’ll get to that later. (See The Bad and The Dirty section).

You got 3 main story lines:

Ice: This includes the storylines for most of the Latin American characters (Gloria, Flaca, Maritza, Blanca), Fig, n Nicky. You can find my thoughts in The Dirty Section.

The broken penitentiary system: which includes Caputo, Taystee, Dogget, Suzzane, Piper, Ward, and Lorna. I believe this is the overall main theme of the show and the one which was developed the best and most believable. On one hand you have the people who have their hands tied and still try to do the best: Caputo (who gets some small victories, but loses everything because of #MeToo), Ward (who did her best, but wasn’t enough against the corrupt system and the capitalist philosophy that runs the company), Tayste (who got life even though she’s innocent, and never got justice for her friend, but found a way to move forward), Dogget (who was part of the circle of poverty and abuse, never got rehabilitated [which should be the purpose of prison] and killed herself after being berated again), Suzzane (who got locked in prison, though she didn’t belong there), Piper (through her parole experience), and Lorna (who never got the help she needed.

The Diaz Family: Daya, Aleida, Taystee, and Dogget to some extent.

I am so happy about the Poussey fund, and that it exist in real life. One of the things this show has done is show light on a lot of issues in the penitentiary system to people who really don’t care about it, or are ignorant about it. I hope this show has more impact than the fund. I hope it actually gives purpose to new activists, but that’s just wishful thinking.

This show peaked in season 2, but I feel comfortable, and satisfied with the overall ending of the show. Also, the cast is amazing. I hope they do great things in the future.

The Bad

Hey, u know what could really be fucked up? Yo-yoing with Taystee’s life for an entire season. I hated how the show painfully elongated her decision regarding suicide. It felt like the show was purposefully hoping to tug at your heart, and during her 2nd round of goodbyes I was like ‘either kill her already or let her be’, it really pissed me off. I understand that she was put in a horrible spot, but narratively, it felt like a cheap writing ploy to get you hooked.

Here I am, still hoping the most disgusting guards get fucking sent to prison, but of course that never happens. I didn’t like Pornstache little moment at the end, I don’t care if he’s not harassing more women any more, he is just like Barney from HIMYM in a way: hey I have a daughter now! I get it! WOMEN ARE PEOPLE. It just sends a bad message, and it actually doesn’t show them viewing women as people, because they are probably one of those hyper protective fathers who are just a residue of the ‘women are property’ ideology that men have with their daughters. They will assume every man is like they were, and they will hate when some guy ‘takes their princess away from them’. Also, Hellman can fuck off. I hated him.

McCullough and Daya are the top tier worst decision makers. I don’t like where the story took these characters, and I hate the writers trying to justify it. McCullough had the chance to make the right call and she didn’t why? Hey, have a flashback that actually connects with reality but feels like a justification. Daya’s life has always been a fuck up, but boi did they need a villain this season.

Why did they completely dropped Maritza like that? People have been saying it’s because the actress is super busy, but man. Give me 1 epilogue scene. Hell, even that lady that help Blanca in the ICE detention center got one!

Also, I watched some moments of season 1 and 2, and boy was this season not funny at all. RIP to the casting as well, the flashbacks weren’t that impactful when the character is supposed to be younger but it’s played by the same actor. Remember the earlier seasons?

The Dirty

Okay, I’m gonna say, I’m not 100% into the ICE storyline. It’s brutal, it has things directly taken from real life, but it also feels like a writer’s shock value wet dream. Instead of showing the horrible and unsanitary way women, men, and children are kept, apparently PolyCon, or whatever the company’s name is, actually has more ‘humane’ concentration camps. And yeah I’m calling them for what they are.

One one hand, the stories are realistic: Blanca, who gets fucked over, but it’s able to get a happy ending thanks for the help of her old and new friends; Shani, who get’s fucked over and sent back to a place where they will kill her; Karla who gets separated from her children, even though they have nobody in the US; Maritza, who didn’t know she wasn’t a citizen; the lady who got fucking raped entering this country. 

The whole ICE won’t let you get an abortion because they ‘care about life’ it’s like poetry, and real. The abortion debate is one the show kinda low key tackled, but nothing was better than that line.

FUCK ICE AND EVERYTHING IT STANDS FOR. FUCK EVERY EMPLOYEE AND PERSON WHO LETS THAT HAPPEN.

The #MeToo movement. Hey, do you remember when they killed Poussey, and how that was supposed to be a Black Lives Matters reference? But remember how the guard that killed her didn't actually represent any of the people who really present a threat to actual black people in real life? Boi, did they fuck up there.

Here it’s the same, well kind of, this is why this is in The Dirty section and not The Bad section: Caputo learned from it, and realized he did wrong. However, isn’t it kind of ridiculous how we’ve been shown actual monsters: rapists, abusers and people who harass in other staff members, but the one who got hit was the one the audience is more empathic towards? Couldn’t you have picked Hellsman, Pornstache, McCullough, or some of the previous guards?

‘I mean, he fucked up, but he’s not one of the bad ones.’

I know it was one of the final rectifying moments for Caputo, but are all the #MeToo jokes a little daft at times, specially considering what Dogget had to go through.

Character focused thoughts:

Piper - Imma be honest with you. I never liked Piper. However, her storyline for the season is completely in character and relevant. It shows the hardships of life after prison (though we've seen that before), and how fucking selfish and idiotic Piper is. Bless her parole officer, she told her how much of an idiot she is. Forgive me, but I don’t like her ending up with Alex. Zelda was the healthier choice, but it makes sense for Piper to choose Alex. God, I’m so glad I don’t have to deal with her ever again.  Though it’s true that her family was all repression and that conditioned her, after 6 seasons, you’d think she’d have learned her lesson how fucking privileged she is, but no. She’s still an idiot, I don’t care if she ‘got better’, she still choose Alex.

Alex - I feel bad for her. She’s got a lot of insecurities, issues, and she never learned how to deal with them. She fucked an officer the first chance she had. Her relationship with Piper will always be toxic, I’m sorry guys, but they are both deeply unstable. I’m happy she didn’t become Hellman’s victim, that was awful. I’m happy she's in Ohio. It’s safer for her that way, and she has friends.

Nicky - My girl, did they do you dirty. Though on one side I’m happy she took the mantle of ‘Mother Hen’, taking Red’s old role and showing how much she developed as a person and a character, I’m so sad that she lost her mother, her best friend, and her new love all in one season. She’s strong, the ending proves that, but I’m so sad she’s alone. I’m so sad that she believe she had done wrong to her family, but I’m happy she took Red’s advice, Lorna was too much. Regarding her plot line with Shani. I’m devastated. It was so cute, so honest, and caring. They deserved to be happy. This storyline shows you (in case you didn't know) how much of a good person Nicky is. I love you girl, I wish you the best.

Red - Another person that got fucked over. I am angry that this ‘dementia’ ending came out of nowhere. Am I dumb? Was it foreshadowed??? One one hand, there’s some people prefer this since it gives Red a peaceful ending. Her anger and bitterness will be gone, and she will have a peaceful death. On the other hand, Red will die not Red. She will disappear, and that’s just fucking dirty. I think this type of illness is tragic, and so painful to the person and to the people that love them. Thanks, I hate it.

Lorna - Is anyone else angry that her racism and her islamophobia gets a hard pass this season for some cheap laughs?  Lorna loses her son, her marriage, and we get a flashback of her disassociating and some of a background story of why she’s so hyper-fixated in marriage and children, but still that doesn’t change how sad it is to see her this far gone. From the moment you see Vinnie, you know that’s not going to end up well, or at least it’s what I thought. Lorna is unstable, and she never got or will get the psychological help she needed. But worse than that, they took everything from her, and left her like a shell of who she was. Her racism doesn’t get a pass though. It’s shameful that a child of immigrants would act that way, specially knowing the shit situation Shani is going through. Though the show tries to pass it off as ‘jealousy’ it was completely dehumanizing, and it never gets addressed. Nicky never stands up for Shani and puts Lorna in her place. Shame on the writers.

Daya - Ok, Daya has been ‘how to fuck up 101′, but originally, her story was sad, and you rooted for her. Her family was fucked up, the cycle of poverty, the toxic environment, her abusive mother and stepfather explained a lot about her. However, Daya’s only good choice in the show was give her baby over to Pornstache’s mom, other than that it has been bad choice after bad choice. If you thought getting addicted to drugs was a bad look for her, becoming a drug lord is worse. I still think Adeola was a better pick for gang leader, but the show runners had to do something for Daya. I thought they were gonna set up a new Carol and Barb relationship with Daya and her mother, but that was not the case (actually, Carol and Barb never get mentioned, which is weird). I really hope Aleida killed her in the end. She spent her whole life complaining about her mother, and she became someone worse than her. Pulling your younger sister into the shithole with you? Low. VERY LOW.

Aleida - We all hated you. In fact, despite some good deeds, you’re still trash. Aleida is an abuser, a cheater, and a liar. She can use the whole ‘providing for the family’ bullshit excuse like Walter White all she likes, but you can’t dismiss her pathological need to do illegal things and get it on with the worse men she could possibly find. Her flashback regarding her mother explains a lot about her childhood, and how an abusive and toxic environment can create more toxic and abusive people, but Aleida didn’t get better, Aleida continued the path she hated. She may have told her other to ‘fuck off’, but she became her. No, she never became the pimp of her children, you got to give her credit for that, but Aleida realized she was a bad mother, and still chose the easy road. I really hope she killed Daya. It’s not going to fix things, but GOD I NEED THAT.

Flaca - I’m happy were she ended. Though her character was always comedy relief, her relationship with Gloria and her time in ICE gave her a purpose. I hope she continues helping those woman, and becomes the new Gloria of her generation. I’m sad she didn’t truly get reunited with her best friend. Show Clitvak hell, girl.

Maritza - I’m so sorry, baby. You deserved better, but your storyline is realistic, and there was no other way it could’ve ended. I wish we could’ve seen an epilogue scene with her. After all, she got sent to Colombia, where she knows no one. All because of a fucking piece of paper and a lying mother. ICE is so fucked up.

Gloria - I’m so happy she got released. Luschek can suck a huge dick, the least she could’ve done for her was let her have her happy ending. I feel a little cheated about her two elder daughters reveal, but I’m happy that after all she went through, she gets to be with her family. Of course Gloria would help the women in the ICE facilities, of course she would risk her freedom and happiness for other mothers. She made naive and bad choices in men, in economic tactics, but in the end, she redeemed herself and became a different person. I will forever be happy about the ending she got.

María - She’s a mixed bag. At first she’s like Daya, her love story with Yadriel made us all cry, and we all felt sad when he took Peppa away. However, turn’s out María is a cheater, Yadriel is high likely not Peppa’s bio dad and she never had the courage to tell him. I didn’t like her ‘bad girl’ phase, but I’m happy in this season she actually get rehabilitated. Caputo’s program made her realize she’s not just a victim, but rather a perpetrator as well. I know she’s not the best person, but she’s making a try. I hope she gets to be with Peppa when she gets out. I’m happy that she let Yadriel be happy, but then again, she was kinda a dick to Gloria until the last minute, sot here’s that bitter realistic flavor in your mouth.

Blanca - Honey, you are the person who deserved a happy ending the most. Though Season 6 fucked you over, you were blessed with Karla and things went your way for once. I can’t believe she got sent to prison for covering up for that fucking old lady. Blanca is a model, she went through hell when in ICE, she almost lost Diablo for good, and was in a very dark place before Maritza showed up. Though Maritza gave her her heart back, she was dumb enough to get a high over the phone number. SIGH. You deserved to be with Diablo, and though we don’t know how he got released, I’m happy she’s happy.

Taystee - I hated the yo-yoing regarding her suicidal thoughts. She wasn't going to get a happy ending. The system is broken and she’s another victim of it, but I’m happy she has an end goal, and she’s doing what she does best: finances, advice, and teaching. She got the best believable ending she could’ve gotten, and I love the fact that she’s there with Suzzane. She’s one of my favorite characters, and I’m happy she didn’t die.

Suzzane - I’m kinda mad they veered into Suzzane’s trial and conviction at the beginning, how they set up this conflict with justice and the system though her eyes, and then dropped it off for some comedic chickens. She doesn’t belong were she is, and her parents should do something about that, but that’s never going to happen. She has matured, and though she’s lost a lot, chicken therapy actually helped her, and she has a very good friend who will stay by her side till the end. I’m happy where she ended, and I hope she is still as bright in the future.

Cindy - Boy, Cindy. I kinda hated you after what you did yo Taystee, and though I have to say, she was put in a tight spot, I’m actually happy for her. From being comedic relief, to finding herself and her religion, to actually owning up to her mistakes. Cindy has grown a lot. I’m happy she will try to make her up to her mom and her daughter, I’m kind of sad she’s homeless. Wouldn’t that break her parole?

Dogget - She deserved better. We can all agree on that. Dogget was abused her whole life, by her mother, by her father, by her peers, by the men she liked. She killed people, became violent, and delved into drugs, but after 6 seasons she had sown so much development. I miss her moments with Boo, though I enjoyed her relationship with Suzzane. Nothing makes me sadder than Crazy Eyes placing and egg on her pillow after she has passed away. Like many inmates, Dogged could’ve been rehabilitated, and the system failed her. She never got her justice, and her rapist is still out there, free. She was made feel like shit by everyone, always, and though having her relapse is cheap, especially after all this time, it’s not unrealistic. That doesn’t change the fact that she deserved better.

Ward - She was too good for this world. From not being emphatic to the inmates to re-establishing her friendship with Taytee, Ward changed a lot. I hope she continues doing good for inmates as an activist. I’m sorry you never had a real chance.

Caputo - And the big bad man, became a ray of hope, a bastion of a redemption arc. He found a calling, love, and now a family. Joe, the ‘nice guy’ who got fucked by life and began to reset it, actually found the light after connecting with the inmates he was supposed to help. Caputo ay be the best written character in the show. I’m not a 100% happy with the #MeToo aspect, but that was the last learning chapter for him. I hope he finds a job, and he’s able to continue growing as a person. He’s going to be a great father.

Figeroa - Who could’ve guessed we’d stan the devil? It’s amazing how all it took was ICE for Figeroa to realize how fucked up the world is. I’m happy she’s deciding to adopt, and though I’m not sure if she’s going to be the best mother, she has grown a lot. I hope she helps people like she helped that woman at ICE. Thank you for not brining another kid to this fucked up world. You’re doing great Natalie.

Shani - She deserved better. Though a FGM storyline for a muslim is kinda stereotypical and awful. I’m glad the show actually tackled it through her relationship with Nicky. I’m so saddened by her ending, but then again, it was obvious from the begging. I’m so fucking angry and sad.

Karla - What was that epilogue for? Do you want me to hate life more? Karla might have the most realistic story out of everyone in ICE. Shit’s so fucked up, that ending scene was not needed. She deserves to reunite with her children, they couldn’t have ask for a better and smarter mother.

Luschek - Fuck him. His last act towards Gloria doesn’t redeem him. He fucked over every inmate who ever trusted him. His selfish, destructive, and toxic. He can rot in hell.

Anyways, I’m too typed out.

I overall give OITNB as a series a 5/10.

You have a very interesting concept with an amazing cast and characters that falls short to cheap writing and some terrible decisions from the producers.

I hope everyone in the cast continues to be amazing, and I hope more stories like this one are actually written.

I hope Netflix cancels 13 reasons why. Goodbye.

[1000-directions]

1, 15, 16!!!

1. if someone wanted to really understand you, what would they read, watch, and listen to?

i went back and forth on this one a lot trying to think of what the perfect song would be, and ultimately i landed on the fact that uhhh i am a songwriter who has written literally hundreds of songs about every single aspect of myself so maybe one of those would be appropriate duh u idiot self. sharing my music kinda makes me want to light myself on fire but here have this.

15. five most influential books over your lifetime.

i read sandra cisneros’ the house on mango street when i was in high school, and it was the first time i’d heard of vignettes, and that method of telling a story really captivated me and changed the way i wrote. i read barbara ehrenreich’s nickel and dimed: on (not) getting by in america as a college freshman, and while it’s by no means a perfect book, it had a PROFOUND effect on my worldview and was definitely the first step towards me rejecting the sort of classist rhetoric i’d grown up with and developing my own understanding of how most people’s lives were so, so different from my own. i was an english major for one (1) semester in college, and i read and really enjoyed madame bovary which was really surprising to me? like it hadn’t really occurred to me that ~classic assigned books could actually be interesting and enjoyable, and it kinda blew my mind and rewrote a lot of rules in my head. my parents basically never gave me a sex talk, and young steph’s understanding of sex was basically borne from me reading trashy novels and looking up unfamiliar words in the dictionary (it was the 90s okay). my favorite was almost paradise by susan isaacs. idk how old i was when i read it the first time, but i was FAR too young, and i thought it was super romantic and sexy which is really horrifying in retrospect because what i remember of that book is fucking gross and misogynistic and FILTHY. and yeah for the fifth book let’s go with the beat up blue dictionary with the cracked spine that i grew up with. spellcheck didn’t exist when i first started having homework in school, and if i ever asked my mother how to spell anything or what a word meant, she made me consult the dictionary and figure it out myself. fun fact: i learned what being gay was from the dictionary when i looked up the word “homosexual” after reading it in a sweet valley high book.

16. if you’d grown up in a different environment, do you think you’d have turned out the same?

i am sure many of my circumstances would have been different. i think about this sometimes, if i’d have less issues and anxiety and shame if i’d grown up in a more laidback and supportive household, because i really don’t think my parents did me any favors in that regard. i think that a lot of the personality traits i developed were in spite of my upbringing, not a direct result of it, so i hope i would have ended up with a similar moral compass regardless of where i started. but i also think there’s something kind of arbitrary about it all, and i remember being fourteen and having this super vivid epiphany that i just as easily could have been born in another country or to another family, belonging to another religion, speaking a different language, with a different skin color, any of it, and it was a really sobering moment for me to be so aware of how much of who we are is determined by shit beyond our control. i had a very sheltered, privileged upbringing, and it took me a long time to unlearn some of that indoctrination and become more curious and nonjudgmental about other people. i might have come to some of those realizations earlier in life if i’d had any framework to build upon instead of having to construct it all myself. but i do think our experiences make us who we are. i was talking to a friend recently who was going through a tough situation, and she’d really never had anything truly bad happen to her before, and one of the things i’d talked about with her is the idea that even if the bad shit we all go through is different bad shit, going through it gives us new compassion to draw on because we understand now what it’s like. i think i might have had different bad situations if i grew up in a different environment, but hopefully i would have learned the lessons of compassion and resilience regardless.

identity ask