#iys ok i played it for the first time like a month ago in class

[yoursminehourss]

MY CHIMIN

^_^

[scwheeler]

🩰 ˖ ࣪⊹ — the answer

pairing: mike wheeler x fem!reader

summary: mike informs you that he has a crush on a new girl but he doesn’t tell you who, he thought you would figure it out sooner or later 👀👀

warnings: open ending??

age of pairing: 15-16

“MIKE WHO IS IT?!” you shouted after the dark haired boy, running down the hall to his next class. leaving you quite frustrated after just hearing the news, ‘i really like someone.’ he bolted the next minute after muttering those words, instantly making you intrigued into his story before he ran away. holding your pencil case and backpack strap, you looked down at your dirty ass sneakers.

he likes someone?

of course you wanted to know because mike was your bestfriend so whenever something big like this happened, you were the first to be told. same thing when something happened for you. but mike hadn’t told you anything about his tiny teeny love life since like the fifth grade when he had a major crush on shelby jones.

you had to comfort him for almost a month when she got a boyfriend. but besides her and a few other girls back in grade school, mike had been quiet about his crushes or who he liked. maybe a few actresses or girls at the mall but nobody he actually knew and truly liked.

which was why you were curious when mike told you he liked someone a few minutes ago. you wanted to know because as his best friend you had a duty to get him and that girl together but also because you wanted it to be you. but you knew it wasn’t, that was improbable. ridiculous.

“y/n over here!” will called out from your usual cafeteria area. you joined the rest of your friends already intrigued in a conversation of sneaking into the theater this friday for the showing of back to the future II. you sat next to mike and dustin, leaning towards mike you whispered, “so are you ever going to tell me who mystery girl is?”

he retracted himself from the group conversation and turned to you, “shhhh! the guys don’t know, i’ll tell you later.” you raised an eyebrow, “promise?” putting your pinky in front of his face. he rolled his eyes and reluctantly did the same. interlocking the sacred pinky promise and finishing it by each of you kissing your thumbs. “it’s locked in now,” you smiled and returned to the conversation.

“but what if we get caught?” will spoke and drank from his milk carton. “then we’re fucked,” you answered where everyone turned to you. “what! im just speaking the truth!” you shrugged your shoulders and shove off their looks of accusation. “as much as i don’t want to, i have to agree with y/n. my moms gonna kill me and not let me play in next weeks game!” lucas agreed.

“right right i forget your a huge basketball player, benchwarmer,” mike remarked. “at least i’m on the team!” lucas defended himself. “ok ok fight later shitheads, back to the plan. if steve drives us there then no one in town will see our bikes and call our parents, right?” dustin suggested.

“you’re still friends with that dickhead?” you asked and opened your pudding cup. “he’s not a dickhead-!” dustin instantly fired back. you rolled your eyes, “sorry sorry, i meant douchebag.” dustin ignored your nasty remarks, “hey you’re not gonna be calling him a douchebag when he’s the one saving your ass from getting grounded like last time.” you took a spoonful of pudding, “yeah yeah fine he’s not a douchebag.”

“thank you,” dustin said proudly. “but won’t our parents notice we’re gone at like eleven p.m?” mike questioned and stole your spoonful of pudding and ate it. you gasped, “mike!” he just smiled in your face and returned your spoon.

“hopper would definitely kill me, he barely even lets me go out in general,” el insisted and handed you her pudding cup. “thank you el,” you said and waved your new pudding cup in front of mike. “that’s why we’ll just lie that we’re sleeping over at someone’s house!” dustin explained. “but who’s house?” max asked and took a bite of her apple.

“not mine,” dustin immediately said and looked at everyone else. “no one’s going to believe hopper let me have a sleepover with all of you guys,” el said and everyone nodded their heads.

“mine are out of town and i’m staying over at wills so can’t be mine,” mike said and out his hands up in defeat. “yeah not mine,” will followed. “my parents hasn’t let anyone sleep over since like sixth grade!” lucas explained, taking himself out of the situation.

“not me,” max quickly uttered and everyone turned to you. “wha—no no,” you declined and ate your pudding cup. “oh come on y/n, you’re the only one and it’s not like we’re actually staying over.” dustin pleaded. “plus you’re the most believable like we’ve actually all slept over at your house before!” mike brought up.

you sighed and took your final spoonful of pudding, “okay fine.” the table instantly cheered and started high-fiving. earning a few extra stares from around the cafeteria.

by the time the night came around, mike still hadn’t told you about his crush. he gave you daily clues like you were in a scavenger hunt but never actually told you. you guessed almost a hundred times with him responding with a mocking ‘nope.’ you named almost every girl in hawkins besides the moms—could it be one of the moms?!?!? nah, unless… 🤨

you were the last one to get picked up, a knock on your window made you grab your backpack and get ready. it was mike at the window, something he used to do on a daily. he would climb to your room and knock on your window to talk about the usual stuff or play games when bored.

“you ready?” he asked and you opened the window. “yup,” you responded and he helped you get out of your bedroom window and hop down to the front lawn. “let’s go let’s go!” steve yelled from the drivers seat of his car. you saw all your friends in their seats and you rushed over with mike to his car. even though it was squished, you all surprisingly fit. you were sitting next to max and mike, your entire body almost conjoined with mike at this point. “so you weren’t kidding henderson,” you said and looked over to steve harrington in the drivers seat.

“i’m not a liar y/n,” dustin remarked and proudly patted steve on the shoulder. he pulled up to the theater and turned around, “i’ll be back at 12:30 sharp. if any of you are late i’m leaving you, you hear me? 12:30 sharp.” everyone nodded and got out of the car, full of excitement and a little bit of anxiety in getting in trouble by our parents.

there were dozens of repeated, “thanks steve!”’s as you guys got out of the car and ran into the theater. “12:30 sharp!” he yelled after us and watched us running inside the theater. you walked beside mike and entered the dark room. the movie hadn’t started yet as you guys filled the seats in row f. “thank god we made it just in time!” mike said and sat down.

“yeah who knew steve would be the time of guy to drive at the rate of a grandma!” lucas laughed and earned a hit to the shoulder by max. “hey you guys should be grateful i got us a ride,” dustin said and looked from side to side. “yes yes thank you dustin,” you, max, will, and el said.

snacks were passed around and sound of rustling chips and candy was the only thing heard in the entire theater. there was a light on the screen and the movie began. “rachel martin,” you whispered to mike on your right. he laughed, “are we still doing this?” you nodded with your eyebrows raised, “of course! you still haven’t told me the answer!”

“shhhhhh—!” dustin whispered from the left to you. you elbow nudged dustin and turned back to mike for an answer. “so?” you asked. “no, no it’s not rachel martin,” mike answered but kept his eyes on the screen in front of you guys.

you sighed and leaned back, grabbing a handful of popcorn to dwell your sorrows with. “mike i’m starting to think this girl doesn’t exsist!” you whisper shouted and looked back at the screen. he turned to face you, rather your side-profile and whispered something so quiet you missed it as your eyes were glued on the title card that flashed on the screen, “oh she exists all right.”

he smiled at the answer, you.

[avaritia-apotheosis]

Crossover Danuary Week Day 3 & 4

Day 3 & 4: Sound/Free Day (DP x Batman xover)

(I'm counting this for both days since it technically fits both prompts and I wrote the majority of this between 10 p.m. and 2 a.m. _(:з)∠)_

Read the AO3 version here! (It has endnotes )

Summary: Danny was fourteen and Damian was now seven. And every day he wondered how his little brother went from a cute, giggling baby to a brat out of hell.

or: 5 Times Damian Refuses to Call Danny by his Name and 1 Time He Does.

or: We're bringing back the classing fanfic trope! Danny dies and gets reincarnated as Damian Wayne's older brother.

Contrary to popular expectations, when Danny Fenton finally (fully) died, he did not wake up in the Ghost Zone.

Instead, he woke up a newborn infant, swaddled in the arms of a woman who looked nothing like his mother but called him son with such affection and wonder that it warmed his little heart. He snuggled closer to his new mother, content to sleep the days away.

Later on, when he grew out of the cloudiness of his infant mind and learned of exactly what kind of world he was reborn into, he might regret being so idle. But for now, Danny would rest. The mantle of hero was a heavy thing, and he could use a long, long break from it.

I. What’s in a name

When he was born into this strange new world, his grandfather bestowed upon him the name Ibn al’ Xuffasch. A moniker given in honor of his mysterious father. A shadow, a presence, a looming expectation placed upon him.

His mother—not mom, for that’s a title reserved for someone else—gave him a much better name.

Danyal al Ghul.

He still preferred going by Danny, even if no one at the League of Assassins ever called him that.

Well…not yet at least.

He pressed a hand against the walls of the artificial gestational tube, nose squished against the glass as Danny watched his new little brother float in the murky green waters. Mother said his brother’s name was Damian.

Damian was conceived five months ago, though looking at him now, you wouldn’t think that. He looked around eight to nine months, his growth and development artificially sped up with the use of highly unethical science. Danny should protest, and he probably would have in his previous life, but goddammit he was lonely, ok? Being the only kid in the League was awful. Almost as awful as the constant hero worship he had to endure after the disasteroid incident.

Besides, it isn’t as if this is the weirdest shit he’d seen.

“Danny,” he whispered to his brother. “My name is Danny. Remember that, ok squirt?”

Little Damian gave a little kick.

Danny will take that as a yes.

II. First Words

According to the League physician, Damian was progressing along normally. His accelerated gestational period didn’t seem to have any negative side effects that they knew of, and overall he was a very healthy, happy baby.

Danny was absolutely enamored with baby Damian, even at the ripe old age of seven (give or take a few centuries). He was just so small. Tiny. Fragile. An innocent little thing, his brother was. Not fit for life in the League.

If he could, he would take Damian away from the confines of Nanda Parbat and the two of them would strike out on their own. Or maybe they would find this father of theirs and shack up with him. It was too bad his powers were locked away somewhere. He could still access them on some level, but they were muted; a weak replacement compared to what Danny could do in his heyday.

Oh, well. Maybe it was for the best. A seven-year-old and a baby running halfway around the world to find their dad? It was a stupid plan now, really.

Damian giggled as Danny handed him a mini ice-figurine of Cujo. He clasped it with his pudgy hands, waving it around with his tiny little arms.

Danny almost let out an aww.

Nope. Screw that. He was aww-ing

It was just the two of them in Damian’s nursery, sat on a soft play mat in the middle of the room. Usually, Danny would still be doing his lessons around this time. Katas and strengthening exercises, botany, languages, advanced math, and sciences— the works. The benefit of reincarnating into a world similar enough to his Earth is that you usually know all of this shit already. Sure, having to relearn his center of gravity with every new growth spurt was annoying, but having access to some of his enhanced speed, strength, and centuries of combat experience helped him get over that hurdle. He could wipe the floor with some of these fuckers.

Ra’s al Ghul could cluck his tongue at Danny’s “lack of ambition” all he liked, but even he couldn’t deny that Danny was competent. It’s why Danny could get away with cutting his lessons early. That and Talia’s occasional indulgence, of course.

Damian babbled as he played. Danny made him some more ice figurines; play was an important part of children's development, and Danny needed an excuse to keep his memory fresh. He made a cow first, just because. Next, he made Princess Dora’s dragon form. Then Fright Knight’s Horse. Then he made Lilith, a black cat he and Tucker gave Sam for her forty-fifth birthday. And just for shits and giggles, he made this one weird creature he saw in the ghost zone that had one too many legs and looked like a five-year-old’s drawing of a horse…if said five year old never saw a horse.

Damian shrieked with glee, grabbings as much of the figurines as his hands would allow.

Danny didn’t really know if the flailing his brother did actually had a purpose to it or if Damian just really liked smacking Cujo and the weird horse ghost together. He was content, for the most part, to watch. He laid on his side, head propped up by one arm, his free hand grabbing a figurine and engaging Damian in whatever storyline he conjured up.

Lilith the cat charged against the horse-ghost with a roar. Damian laughed, sacrificing the horse-ghost to his cruel fate and summoning Dora to fight at Cujo’s side.

They played and laughed and giggled. Lilith the cat fought bravely but was felled by the mighty cow. He blew raspberries into Damian’s mouth as revenge, much to his brother’s annoyance. Sullen little Damian hit him on the head, and Danny acted out his tragic death with such drama that would make Mr. Lancer proud.

He was too good, apparently. His fake death fooled Damian so well that he started blubbering.

“Dah— Dah!”

Holy shit was he trying to say his first words?

Danny bolted up. “Come on, Dami, you can do it! Say ‘Danny.’ Dan-ee.”

Damian floundered over the sounds, testing the shapes. “Dah— Daaah—”

“Yes. Yes?”

“Daya!”

Damian’s face shone with pride. Danny didn’t have the heart to correct him.

He admitted defeat with a sigh. “Yeah. That’s right, bud. Daya.”

One day. One day he’ll get someone to say his name right.

III. Rivalry

Danny was fourteen and Damian was now seven. And every day he wondered how his little brother went from a cute, giggling baby to a brat out of hell. He was snooty and arrogant. The second Damian beat someone in a spar they were no longer ‘worthy’ of his consideration. Skills were flaunted with no thought of humility. Servants treated as just another part of the background.

And most of all he was so god damn stubborn.

Danny stopped running and turned around, hands on his hips. “Damian stop running and take a break.”

Damian stumbled to a halt, panting viciously. He wiped the sweat off his face with the back of his hand. “No, I—hah!—can still keep going.” Though his green eyes burned with resolve, Danny could see the way Damian’s knees shook and how he kept inching towards the cluster of trees to their right.

Danny, seeing as how mother put him in charge of Damian’s physical fitness for the day, decided to be the responsible adult. “No. You can’t. Now sit your but down in the shade before I make you.”

“You don’t have to tell me what to do, Danyal. I can take care of myself.”

Danny sighed. There was a time, once, that Damian would gleefully call him ‘Danny.’ But one day it just— stopped. Ever since then, it was ‘brother’ or ‘Danyal’; the names said with aloof politeness or hissed behind a snarl. Damian’s stubbornness streak manifested around this time too. As well as his tendency to push himself too hard in his training.

Danny blamed Ra’s. Bastard.

He threw his water at Damian who caught it with one hand. “I don’t have to do anything, but since one of us here is clearly begging to pass out from heat exhaustion—”

“I’m fine!”

“You are not.”

Danny stared down at Damian.

Damian glowered at Danny.

The silence of the jungle stretched between them.

Damian looked away first. He uncapped the water bottle and guzzled half of it down. Damian leaned back against the trunk of the nearest tree and slid down to a crouch, water bottle dangling between his fingers.

Danny carded a hand through his hair, fingers resting at the back of his neck. He sighed. A flock of birds flew overhead.

“Grandfather said that you could run the circuit of Infinity Island three times without breaking a sweat.”

God damn it Ra’s.

Danny scratched his cheek. “I mean, I took my time with it, so of course I wouldn’t sweat too much.”

Damian glared at him. “He said you could do it in an hour and a half.”

An hour and ten minutes to be exact. But Danny wasn’t going to say that.

He plopped himself right next to Damian, stretching his legs. “You don’t have to do things the way I did them, you know that?”

“‘Tt.’ Easy for you to say.”

“And what does that mean?”

“You don’t see it.” Damian thumped the water bottle onto the dirt. “Of course you don’t. Why would you? It’s probably beneath your notice.”

“Damian.” Danny placed a hand on his shoulder but Damian tore himself away, dragging himself to his feet.

“You don’t see it. Have you heard what they call you? A genius. A prodigy. They look at you and see the heir of the Demon’s Head. The pride of the al Ghul bloodline.” His jaw clenched, hand reaching up to fist his shirt. “They look at you and see someone worthy. Then they look at me and wonder why I'm so lacking.”

There are many upsides to being reincarnated with your memories and skills intact, even more so when you’ve lived for hundreds of years.

Here’s the downside to all that: you start forgetting. Once, before he was permanently known as Phantom, and before the reality of his longevity kicked in, Danny Fenton was a younger sibling. And while the youngest child usually got the reputation of being able to get away with anything, it wasn’t exactly true for young children born into the family of the exceptional. His old parents were certified geniuses, pioneers of the scientific world. They tore a hole into a parallel dimension for god sake. Jazz, though not as interested in engineering, was in the same caliber. She got the highest score on the C.A.T test, was already being scouted by Ivy Leagues when she was a sophomore in high school, and eventually made a name for herself in the psychiatric community as one of its leading researchers.

Sure, Danny moonlighted as a hero. Sure, after the disasteroid there was a statue of him in every capital in the world. But before all that happened, there was a time when Danny was desperate to catch up to the high bar his sister set. And there were many more times when he failed to measure up.

Danny didn’t realize that he was putting Damian through the exact same thing.

“Damian…” He needed to say something. Anything. “Is that why you won’t call me ‘Danny’ anymore?”

Not that.

Damian clenched his fist, turning away from him. “I don’t need your pity, Danyal. I’m going on ahead.”

His little brother ran further into the dense jungle.

Danny watched him go.

IV. Separation

Damian was ten and he was seventeen when Nanda Parbat came under attack. An attempted coup by their grandfather’s old pupil Slade Wilson.

Their casualties were many, amongst them being Ra’s al Ghul himself, dying but a few feet away from the Lazarus Pit and body too damaged for it to be of use. Damian cried over their grandfather’s body. Danny pulled him close, burying his silent tears in Damian’s hair. He had no love for Ra’s, but the man was his grandfather, his family, and Danny will mourn him all the same.

Their mother pulled them both in for a hug and held them tight.

There was no time to mourn.

Plans are made, arrangements are settled, Damian was not happy with any of this.

“I want to come with you.”

Mother answered with a curt “no.”

Damian bristled, hands curling into fists. “But Danyal gets to go! Why do I have to stay in Gotham?”

“Your brother is older,” their mother said, voice spilling honey, saccharine and sweet. “And you are still young. You will be under your father’s protection in Gotham, and he will ensure your safety.”

Her words left no room for further questions.

Damian, still unsatisfied, sulked. He tucked his knees beneath his chin and curled atop one of the many couches bolted to the floor of their ship. “It’s not fair,” he said.

Danny sat down beside him. “Life’s not fair.”

“I’m his grandson, too. I should be given the chance to avenge him as well!”

“Danny poked Damian’s forehead. Damian scrunched his nose in annoyance. “I think it’s because you’re his grandson that mother felt the need to bench you.”

“What?”

“Well…think of it this way: If something goes wrong and mother and I don’t come back from this—” They both simultaneously knocked on the wooden frame of the couch. “—then the League of Assassin falls to you. Someone needs to carry on the legacy.”

“But why leave only me? Why not leave the both of us to ensure both heirs are safe?”

Danny strong-armed him closer, mussing his hair despite Damian’s shouts of protest. “Aww, are you worried about me?”

Damian tried to shove him off. “As if. Now let go of me!”

“Only if you call me Danny.”

“Never!”

Danny laughed. “Come on, just this once? Might as well hear it before I die.”

He felt his brother stiffen beside him. “You won’t die.”

Grinning, Danny said, “of course I won’t.”

Damian held his gaze, green eyes intent and bored into his own. “You won’t die.” He spoke the words like a conviction, a reassurance.

A reassurance for who? Danny couldn’t say.

He shifted his hold into a proper hug. “I’ll come back, Damian. I promise I will.”

V. Sacrifice

Damian pointed his gun at Deathstroke.

Deathstroke held a gun to their mother’s head.

Danny stood behind a nearby pillar, watching.

All his powers were useless when he truly needed them, either too weak in their manifestation or locked away who knows where. All he could do was stand in the shadows and wait for an opportunity to strike.

Damian lowered his gun.

Deathstroke shifted his aim to the space between Damian’s eyes.

Danny could see his mother tense. He dashed forward with inhuman speed

No.

He would not let this happen.

Everything moved at once.

Deathstroke fired the bullet. His mother escaped her captor’s grip and threw herself in the bullet’s path. Danny pushed his mother away, taking her place, and catching the bullet in his chest.

“No!”

The wind was knocked out of Danny’s lungs. Punctured. Probably. Fuck. He collapsed, head slamming against the rocky floor.

He wheezed, groaning as Damian ran to his side and cradled his head. “You idiot!” Damian cried. “Why did you do that? Why?”

Danny coughed. Could feel the blood gathering in his lungs, choking him. He didn’t know what to say. What could he say? “You’re my brother.”

His tongue tasted like blood. He was dying. Danny was honest to god dying again.

That pain was somehow more bearable compared to hearing Damian’s choked sob.

I’m sorry. I’m sorry, he wanted to say. I’m sorry I couldn’t have been a better brother.

His strength failed him, in the end.

Danny closed his eyes.

(Damian goes off to defeat Deathstroke but does not kill him. Talia took the broken corpse of her son and placed it in the Lazarus pit.)

(The body sank into the murky green waters.) (It does not rise again.)

+1. Brother

Damian does not like Dick Grayson.

Though as Damian understood it, it was very difficult to dislike Grayson— at least for long. His dislike for the man wasn’t for any particular reason, really. Incessant and exuberant displays of affection aside, Grayson was very easy to be around. He was accepting, he was kind, he was funny. Accepting his attempts at friendship would also be a great strategy to better integrate himself into the Wayne family.

Damian slapped away Grayson’s attempt to ruffle his hair.

Grayson backed off, arms held up non-threateningly. “Chill, Dami. Stop being so antagonistic all of the time, we’re brothers for goodness sake.”

Damian snapped his teeth, features twisted into a scowl. “We’re not brothers.”

“Uh, yeah, I’m pretty sure we are. Got the paperwork and everything.”

“We are not brothers!” Damian snapped up, surprised at his sudden shout. He dug crescent-shaped indents into the soft flesh of his palm. “Just— leave me alone, Grayson. I already had a brother. I don’t need another one.”

Damian stalked off, shutting himself in his room.

“You should be nicer to them, you know,” His brother’s specter said. He stood in front of the large, floor-to-ceiling windows at the end of the room, sunlight filtered across his hair, tiny dust motes floating.

I know.

This ghost— This strange inversion of his brother’s image had been haunting Damian for the past few months. At first, it appeared as a shade. A shadow that lingered at the corner of Damian’s eyes but disappeared as soon as he turned to it. Grief, Damian figured it was. A manifestation of his own guilt. He ignored the phantasm of his brother most of the time, and most of the time his brother would simply leave on his own.

One day his brother’s ghost vanished. Damian had breathed a sigh of relief, thankful that his hallucinations stopped. Then, three weeks later, it came back. Stronger. Bolder. It moved around the room like a curious wraith, green eyes watching. He would smile, would laugh, and he would talk.

Damian could almost pretend that his brother was alive.

Almost.

Willing away this phantom had no effect, so Damian settled to just glaring at him. “Go away.”

“After I came all this way to see you?” His brother clenched his chest in mock-hurt.

Damian palmed the batarang he kept hidden in his sleeve, the cold, sharp metal grounding him. He was tired of this. So, so tired. “You’re not even real.” He threw the batarang at the ghost, expecting it to phase right through and embed itself in the wall.

The ghost caught it.

Astonished, Damian could do nothing but stare at his brother. His brother.

“Danny?” His throat tightened. His eyes had begun to mist over but he blinked the tears away as quickly as they came, afraid that if he tore his gaze away now, the illusion would break. “Is that you? Is that really you?”

Danny stepped forward. The floorboards beneath him creaked.

Damian barreled across the room and enveloped his brother in a hum, nearly toppling the both of them over. “Danny.” He buried his head in his brother’s midsection. Solid. Corporeal. Real. “You’re back. You’re back!”

He saw a flash of light behind his eyelids. Felt warm arms wrap around him. Damian looked up to see Danny— his Danny. Not the strange inversion. Not the ghostly incarnation. Him. His brother. His family. Real. Here. Alive.

“I promised I’d come back, didn’t I?”

“What took you so long?” His voice was muffled against his shirt.

“Coming back from the dead isn’t exactly easy, squirt. It took a long time. I had to call in a lot of favors, kick a bunch of people’s asses, you know the drill.”

“You did all that because of a promise?”

“Of course.” Danny smiled, pulling him closer. “You’re my brother.”

[nyctophilin]

I Was a Fool | I

sweet anon: May I request a forced marriage with Mafia!Changbin, please? Where like he's cold at first, but then they fall in love in the edn? And can there be some smut as well,,, sorry if this is too much lol.

Chapter I, Chapter II, Chapter III

Description: She has been in love with her best friend for as long as she can remember. However, life doesn’t always like to play in your favour. Forced into a marriage she didn’t want to happen she lives her days lonely and unhappy the only thing bringing her joy being the occasional hangouts with her best friend. At some point, her husband starts to get bothered by the said hangouts.

All rights reserved © nyctophilin 2020. Re-posting, copying and translating any of my works is prohibited.

Pairing: Changbin x fem!Reader, Lee Know x fem!Reader

Word count: 3.2k

Genre: Mafia!AU, Forced Marriage!AU, Angst, Fluff, eventual Smut

Warnings: heartbreak, rude Changbin, spelling/grammar mistakes

A/N: Anon, I know Minho is not part of the request but it just felt right to put it in. I felt like I can create more drama if he was there and who doesn’t love drama? I hope you don’t mind.^^ I have so many ideas for this mini series. I’m so excited for it. I hope you all like it. Feedback is very much apreciated. 

      She stretched slowly, the sun bathing her in its rays. Although it was pretty hot outside a breeze will start occasionally making the bottom of her dress fly up ever so slightly and cooling her heated body. They were close to the bank of a river, settled on a soft blanket, a few dished making it impossible for them to be as close as they wanted to be to each other.

      She stole a glance at her best friend who was propping himself on his palms while looking at the few ducks that were populating the river. She has known Minho since her sophomore year of high school. He was a transfer student from another city. At the time his dad had got a new job in her city and they had to move.

      He intimidated her at first. He was quiet when he wasn’t with people from his class that he befriended and he constantly had a resting bitch face on. They actually started talking because of a...let’s call it a cliché accident. She can still remember it so vividly.

      She was walking towards the school’s cafeteria with her friends after their French class. Oh, how much she hated French. Not only was the grammar complicated but they also had an awful teacher. He didn't know how to explain things and he was very demanding.

      “Class, today we will talk about something sophisticated and I expect all of you to already know about it because how dare you not know everything about France?” She heard one of her friends mock the teacher and she giggled lightly. 

      “You did it wrong. You have to add a French accent and more spitting to it. This man went to France once for a week and suddenly he forgot where he is from.” Her other friend rolled her eyes when she remembered the teacher’s antics.

      “Oh come on. You guys are so mean!” She finally spoke just a tiny bit of sarcasm present in her voice.

      “Oh please! You are the one that hates him the most.” Her friend challenged her with a raised eyebrow.

      “Hate is a strong word. I just don’t have the same vision as him on most things.” She felt one of them nudge her in the back with her elbow and she adopted an offended frown. “Stop, I am serious!”  She nudged her back and they started pushing each other. A particularly hard push from one of her friends had her bolting forward and knocking down the person in front of her, falling over them.

      When she lifted her head and noticed who she hit she was up in a second. The second he spent getting up from the floor she was thinking of all sorts of excuses she could say. When he turned towards her she opened her mouth ready to let all her thoughts spill but she was cut off.

      “Are you ok? Did you get hurt?” He placed his hand on her arms crouching down just a bit to inspect her face. His hands were really warm.

      She felt a faint pink dust her cheeks. “I am fine. You don’t have to worry about me. I was the one who made you fall.” She looked into his mesmerizing eyes and gulped as discreetly as she could.

      “I am okay but we can’t allow such a fragile lady like you to get hurt.” A smirk tugged at his lips and made her rosy cheeks to go into a deep red.

      “Hey! I’m not fragile. I still put you down, didn’t I?” The most pleasant laugh she ever heard left his lips and he patted her head lightly.

      “Yeah, sure you did, sweetheart. Be more careful next time!” His hands left her body and he turned on his heels joining his friends again and continuing his way to wherever he had to be.

      After that incident, they started greeting each other on the hallway and making small talk every time they would sit at neighboring tables in the cafeteria becoming good friends eventually. The time she has spent with him was never boring and she ended up having some of her best experiences because of him. However, somewhere in that period of time, she fell for him. And how could she not? He was caring and gentle and funny and always made sure that she was comfortable before dragging her into another one of his crazy adventures.

      She was also aware of his feelings for her. She didn’t know if it was love but she knew he cared for her more than a friend cares for another friend. But none of them ever confessed. Maybe they were waiting for the right moment and maybe they made a mistake by doing that because from now on there were no more right moments.

      “I will be getting married.” Her whisper got lost in the breeze but he still managed to hear her. His head shoot in her direction, watching her side profile with blown pupils. With quick moves, he pushed the food out of the way and stood in front of her. Even though he was on his knees his body was standing tall, her calves trapped between his legs.

      “What do you mean? Please tell me you are talking about that giant stuffed bear in your room.” Minho tried to bring some humour into the situation hoping that any second she will push him, make him fall on the fresh grass and start laughing. His voice was strained when he spoke, however, because these were the first words she said to him since they met twenty minutes ago.

      Y/N bit her lip while avoiding his eyes. That was the hardest thing she ever had to do. Finally looking at his face she felt something tugging at her heart when she remarked his pained expression. “No Minho, I’m not talking about Honey. He’s way too good for me. If he ever decides to marry me I’ll be the luckiest woman alive.” Minho didn't appreciate her joke. If it was true then it was no joking matter.

      “Y/N, please!” She bit the inside of her cheek at his slightly annoyed tone. She knows she shouldn’t joke about this but it’s easier than telling him the truth. She wished there was a better, less painful way than that.

      “I’m getting married, Minho. In a month.” Y/N felt tears stinging at her eyes but she refused to let them fall.

      “With who? Did you have a boyfriend all this time?” The thought of her with someone else left a bittersweet taste in his mouth.

      “I don’t know who.” She said under her breath focusing on the abandoned food on the blanket.

      “What do you mean you don’t know who?” She moved her face even further away from him wanting to avoid the conversation as well as she could. His unusually cold hand cupped her face making her watch him in the eyes and bringing her closer to him but still keeping a decent distance between their faces. “What do you mean you don’t know who, Y/N?”

      She felt so intimidated by his demeanour. She knew she owed him an explanation. Actually, no. She didn’t. They were just friends and she can do whatever she wants. But she needed to give it to him for her own sanity. “It’s an arranged marriage. My parents made this deal a long time ago with a rival in business. If I am not in any relationship when he prepares to step down from his position and hand the legacy to his son, I have to marry him. I don’t know why there is such rivalry between flower shops but if that helps my parents from losing the family business I have to do it.” 

      “Y/N, this is crazy. We have to do something. You can’t just marry a complete stranger.” His hands descended from her face to her shoulders, shaking her slowly hoping that maybe they both can wake up from this nightmare if he does.

      Tears pricked in her eyes as she took a deep breath. “If I was in a relationship I wouldn’t have to do it, but I am not. Everything is already decided on and I can’t do anything more about it.”

      Minho collapsed on her legs but didn’t fully let his weight on them. He brought her face close to his only a few centimetres apart. “Yes, we can. Listen Y/N, I…” She placed her hands over his, making him stop in the middle of his sentence.

      “Please, don’t do this to me. Not now. Please!” Tears started pouring down her cheeks as her vision of him became unclear.

      “But…”

      “Please!” She let her head fall into his chest and started crying uncontrollably. He felt his heart break at the sight of her crying and he never thought that his love could hurt her like that. He knew what he was about to do wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair for her. He understood that she can’t do anything anymore but he was selfish. He was too selfish when it came to her.

      “I love you!” 

      Her whimpers became even louder and she wrapped her hands around his torso burying her head more into his chest. He embraced her as well, a hand rubbing up and down her back in a calming way. He was silently crying trying not to disturb her, hoping that maybe, just maybe he is actually dreaming.

      From afar they may have looked like two insane people. Crying on a picnic on such a nice day. But it wasn’t a nice day for them. On that day their hearts have been broken by one another even though they still loved each other.

      Y/N was fidgeting on the wooden chair looking around frantically. Her father placed his rough hand on her delicate one in an attempt to calm her down. She looked him in the eyes and he gave her a smile trying to hide his sorrow from her. She smiled back and finally stopped her moving, realising that nothing is going to change even if she wastes her energy like that.

      Tomorrow was her wedding day and a few days prior they received a phone call from the father of the groom saying that they should meet before the wedding. Originally they weren’t supposed to meet because her soon to be in-laws were busy with the whole stepping down thing. She didn’t know why but she felt relieved that she gets to meet her husband before the ceremony. Even though her father assured her that he is a “young handsome man just right for my baby girl” she needed to see it with her eyes. No one wanted any weird reactions from her in the middle of the ceremony.

      She will finally get married. Is something she has wanted to do since she was young. Being with the one you love forever and absolutely nothing being able to separate you. She always dreamed of completing this one desire of hers. Dressing up in the most beautiful dress she has ever seen and having her hair done beautifully. It was going to be a beach wedding sometime in spring. Everything was going to be perfect and in the end, her loved ones were going to witness the love of her life and her vowing eternal love for one another.

      But she wasn’t getting her beach wedding and she wasn’t marrying the love of her life. She realised some time ago that life can be cruel. You get everything you want and then, all of a sudden it stops. You are left broken and have to live an unfulfilling life just because you can’t die yet.

      She was woken from her slumber by the screeching of her father’s chair. When she looked forward she was met with two masculine forms looking down at her. She hurriedly got up and bowed deeply as an apology for not noticing them sooner.

      “There’s no need for something like that. I can imagine how nervous you must be.” His voice was deep, shaking her from inside out. It was the older male that spoke. His shoulders were really broad and he was fairly tall, his imposing presence giving her a claustrophobic feeling. He had a fake smile plastered on his face and he extended his hands which she shook hurriedly. “I’m Mr Seo but you can start calling me father.” He laughed and she forced a laugh as well, uneasiness settling inside her.

      She looked at the other man from the corner of her eye. He was very well built, his black T-shirt stretching over the muscle of his arms. “I’m Y/N.” She extended her arm and let a smile paint her lips in an attempt to be nice.

      The man rolled his eyes and slapped his hand over her’s, shaking it violently before letting go. “I’m Changbin.” Immediately after, he sat down disinterested in that whole meeting.

      A bored expression was adorning his face. All he could think about was the moment he could go home. His eyes travelled down her body trying to take her figure in. He had seen so much better. She wasn’t crazy beautiful and even though her body was presenting some appetizing curves her shy and reserved demeanour was a big turn off for him. He couldn’t understand why he had to marry her. Did they really have to form a pact with the District 9 Mafia? They were clearly stronger than them so why not just eliminate them.

      He took another look at her. The way she sat, that forced smile, the fear in her eyes. Everything about her annoyed him. Maybe he was influenced by the fact that he had to marry her against his will but she was sparking something inside him. Filling him with rage until he had to stop to breathe in order to calm down.

      “Do you go to college Y/N?” Mr Seo’s question surprised her.

      “I did. I majored in Chemistry. I wanted to become a perfumer.” Excitement overtook her at the mention of her dream job.

      Surprise settled on Mr Seo’s face. “Oh, is that so? How come?” 

      “Well, since we have a flower shop as a family business I grew up around nicely smelling flowers. I thought that maybe we could sell perfume as well. That way people would buy more things when they come by and maybe we would be able to beat you.” She giggled lightly and she had both men in front of her raising their brows.

      “Oh yeah. Your father’s and my rivalry when it comes to our flower shops.” Mr Seo smirked at the other man and he averted his head, too embarrassed to make eye contact.

      On the other end of the table, Changbin was both dumbfounded and angry. Not only was she not aware of her father’s real job but she was also naive enough to believe the flower shop story. He doubts that he and his father looked like they could work in a flower shop. He hated this marriage already.

      The rest of the afternoon went smoothly with her, her father and Mr Seo making conversation. Changbin didn’t say anything unless spoken to and for the entire afternoon, he looked like he would rather be thrown out of a moving train than be there. Y/N tried striking a conversation with him a few times but he would either answer drily or would straight up ignore her so she gave up. 

      When they finally parted ways a few hours later she felt like she could breathe again. She was going to have a long and lonely life if this is how their marriage was going to proceed.

      Y/N looked at the lights coming from the city. Everything looked so small from up there. So small that she could pick them up and do whatever she wanted with them. Wrapping her jacket better around her body she leaned against the hood of the car making herself comfortable.

      “How is he?” Minho was looking at her expectantly.

      “He is okay, I guess.” She let out a sigh turning her head to look at his eyes.

      The older man made a clicking sound with his tongue before tilting his head to one side. “Okay? You guess? What am I supposed to understand from this?” He sounded annoyed.

      “He didn’t really talk. He ignored me for almost the entire period we were there. He did say ‘Good for you.’ when I said that I am a good cook, though. In conclusion, okay, I guess.” She was sick of him honestly. The few hours she spent with him today were enough for a lifetime. He wasn’t okay, he was a complete unmannered pig. But she couldn’t say that to Minho. She couldn't tell him about all the dirty looks he gave her or how many times he rolled his eyes whenever she excitedly spoke about her interests. She knew how he would react and that would only make her fall for him even harder. She needed to get over him.

      Minho felt his blood boil at her words. He gave her up, he respected her wish of not going to her father and fighting for her, only for her to end up with someone like him. Wasn’t life a bitch? He could make her so much happier. They could have a carefree life where the only thing they’ll be thinking about was how much they loved each other. But they won’t. Y/N is Changbin’s and as much as he hates it, if she is fine with it he will respect her decision.

      He wrapped a hand around her shoulders and dragged her closer to him. “Maybe you just got the wrong impression. I’m sure it will be ok.” He said that to her but it was more for him. A reassurance and a reason not to start a fight. He wanted to tell her to go against her father. Tell her to think again. Tell her that he was ready and if she spelt the words he would jump in the car and run away with her. Go to a place where no one could find them and they could live a happy life. But he almost lost her once and he can’t risk that again.

      After their picnic “date” Y/N avoided him for a few days and he thought that he ruined their friendship. But then, thanks to someone that probably loves him, she called him. Told him how scared she was of the whole situation and how she’s trying to stay strong for her family. That night she confessed to him many things that got him worried and he agreed to stay by her side because she needed him. He even agreed to walk her down the aisle. Walk with her on arguably the most important day of her life and then hand her over to someone else.

      “Maybe you are right. I hope you are right.” She closed her eyes and inhaled his scent. The last few moments she can spend with him like that before it becomes wrong. And she is going to enjoy them.

      They sat like that for a good period of time in comfortable silence. None of them wanted to go home afraid of tomorrow. But they did because this was not a teenage rom-com where the protagonists end up together. This was the real world and they had to confront it.

[averyonelovesjack]

cost of friendship III ~ daniel seavey

requested: yes

hiii can we please please please have another part to parties and the cost of friendship? love love love your writing!

hey hon just requesting a third part to 'cost of friendship' with dani whenever you have the time, thanks love

Hey! I hope things are going okay! I was reading your imagines and I'm a big fan of your works! I was just wondering if you were going to post a part 3 to "cost of friendship"? Just curious :) I understand if you discontinued it/you're on a break.

summary: six months into the relationship and just in time for the holidays, daniel and y/n recognize the difficulty in spending the holidays away from each other and have to determine if it’s worth breaking the secret.

warning(s): cursing

disclaimer: i use christmas and thanksgiving as plot points in this story because it fit better with the way i wanted the story to go, but feel free to replace them with any other holidays you celebrate!!

word count: 2740

author’s note: accidentally posted this, unedited, last night with no word count and the author’s note that i wrote in december of last year when i originally made the draft and didn’t write a single word of this story:) so now that it actually makes sense to post this, here is part three to cost of friendship! thanks for all these requests even tho they were clearly from a long time ago since cost of friendship II came out TWO YEARS AGO in september. welp hope this was worth the wait lol enjoy:))

read these first: part one, part two

six months with daniel went by really quickly. the summer was honestly a lot of fun. i could spent hours at the boys’ house and nothing was suspicious about it. i grew a lot closer with them all because we spent so much time together, and it wasn’t weird for me to hang out there, and i could see daniel whenever i wanted. we really got to know each other during the summer months. i had known daniel for a while now, but getting to know him on a relationship level was really nice.

summer ended pretty quickly though and then fall came. i was back in school. i didn’t think it would be hard to see him since i was still in the ending months of school when we started dating. i think that going from so much time together over the summer to only seeing each other a few hours a week was a really hard adjustment.

we promised we’d never let our schedules be a problem, but managing a full time student’s schedule and a singer’s schedule is really difficult. i had classes monday through friday, and any time i wasn’t in class, i was doing homework. that left my only free time during the week to be late at night. so we hung out late at night, but by the time we saw each other we were usually too exhausted to really do anything other than lay around and watch a show or talk for a little bit. weekends were usually better for me, but daniel had a crazy schedule that usually had studio time incorporated on the weekend.

we still made effort to see each other all the time we could, but it wasn’t easy. i think that probably plays into my current nerves. it’s early november and the stress of the holiday season had already gotten to me.

as a kid, the holiday season was the absolute best. thanksgiving meant seeing all of my family, including my cousins who were really close in age to me. and then the stretch between thanksgiving and christmas was my absolute favorite. it was filled with christmas music, christmas decorations, buying gifts, giving gifts, getting gifts, and again, seeing family. and don’t even get me started on new years. as a kid, staying up late was the absolute best thing. the sparking cider and noise makers were all the rave.

as a much older college student now though, it was a lot less fun. the holiday season meant figuring out plans and traveling home to see my family and not knowing which part of my family was actually gonna be available. it meant buying actual meaningful or useful gifts and then figuring out how to get them home. there was still the music and the lights, but i had no time to meaninglessly drive around los angeles and see the lights or spend hours around a fireplace watching christmas movies. i didn’t even have a fireplace to begin with.

the holiday season was also much more confusing this year because i had daniel. i’ve never even had a boyfriend during the holiday season, let alone a secret boyfriend. most of the things we went out and did we could pass off as just things we’re doing as close friends, but the holidays were different. friends don’t ditch the holidays with their family just to hang out with their friends family. i don’t even know if daniel and i are at the level in our relationship, and then even if we were, i couldn’t do anything about it because keeping our relationship a secret meant not being able to do the explicitly for couples holiday stuff.

as much as i think daniel and i are ready for the family stage in our relationship, neither of us have really talked about it because there’s not really much room to do it anyways. i’ve met daniel’s siblings and parents before, but never as anything more than a friend because it was too risky to tell anyone. and daniel’s never had an excuse to come meet my family since they aren’t just down the road like his.

the secret relationship really damaged my normal holiday mood and it honestly stressed me out. i have to book my plane home soon and to do that meant that there really was no chance that i’d spend the holidays with daniel. even with us only being together half a year, daniel meant so much to me. in every other relationship i’d been in, it felt like i was waiting for the relationship to end or i at least knew that it wasn’t going to last. it was different with daniel though and that was really hard since we couldn’t even tell anyone about it.

tonight is a friday and i had finally finished my work for the week. i was invited to a party, but i didn’t really feel like going since i was pretty tired from the week and i wasn’t in a party mood. daniel texted me soon after and asked if i wanted to come over. i wasn’t really in a socialization mood, but since it was just daniel and i haven’t seen him much recently, i said yes. he even said he would pick me up which made it ten times easier to say yes because he knows i don’t like taking ubers alone and i don’t have access to a car.

daniel picked me up at about 7. i didn’t feel like getting ready so i just wore my grey sweatpants and wdw tee that daniel had gotten me for free. daniel never seemed to mind my lazy outfits and i knew as soon as we got back he would change out of his jeans too.

“hi love, how was your day?” daniel asks as soon as i get in the car. i felt a little emotionally exhausted, but so happy to see daniel. the car was like our safe space because no one was around to walk in on us and we didn’t have to hide our feelings and actions.

“exhausting, but better now that i’m seeing you.” i admit.

“at least it’s the weekend now.” daniel says. “and i went to the studio a little early today so that we won’t have to go in this weekend and i can spend more time with you.”

“really?” i ask, that news brightening my day a little. “i was just about to ask how studio was today?”

“it was good. we worked on a new christmas song today when we were finished. i don’t know if we’ll ever release it but it was a lot of fun. i’m sure you’d love it.”

“you know how i feel about christmas music.” i grin. maybe a little daniel written christmas music will brighten my spirit in these next coming weeks.

“speaking of, i feel like you haven’t played any christmas music. i swear i barely knew you this time last year as compared to now but i knew how much you loved christmas music. i feel like you played it as soon as halloween was over.” daniel mentions and as much as i wanted to hold it back and not say anything, i felt too tired to not.

“i haven’t really been in the christmas spirit.” i admit with a sigh that i knew daniel would read through.

“i know the holiday season is hard. it’s been on my mind a lot too and i was hoping it wasn’t adding to your stress, but i should’ve said something sooner because i knew it would.” daniel says, looking over and gently ok in a hand on mine.

“it’s okay.” i say. “i probably wouldn’t have even admitted it until we got to a night like tonight where i’m honestly too tired to pretend i’m not stressed.”

“i’m sorry, love. do you want to talk about it?” daniel asks.

“it’s okay, i don’t even know what to say because we can’t even do anything about it.” i answer. “and i don’t want to stress you out with all of my little annoyances and sad things.”

“i know that the last few months haven’t been easy.” daniel starts, deciding for us both that nothing i could say would be too much for us. “with our schedules and then keeping it a secret.”

“it’s just-” i don’t even know where to start because i know when i’ll do i’ll either inevitably cry out of stress or sound angry with him when i’m not, i’m just annoyed at our situation. “it really sucks that i can’t spend any of the holidays with you and i fucking hate that because i love the holiday season and the spirit and i’m avoiding it because i don’t want to feel sad about us not being together for the holidays. and i love you. i love you so much and i want you to meet my family because i know they’ll love you, but it would be way too obvious for you to fly home with me for the holidays and there’s really no hiding that so i know it makes no sense to even think about that because it just makes me sad.”

“i love you too, y/n.” daniel says, still processing everything. “i didn’t know you wanted me to meet your family yet. i would love to, but i didn’t want to bring it up until you were ready.”

“are you kidding?” i laugh a little bit, looking over at him as he parked the car in the driveway but neither of us moved. “daniel, of course i want you to meet my family. i know they’ll love you because you’re you. god, ever since i told my sisters i have a boyfriend they’ve been begging me to tell them who so that they could meet you. i don’t know, the holidays have always just been about being with family for my family, and i’m sure yours too. you’re such an important part of my life now and i wish i could share you with them. it’s whatever, though. we shouldn’t talk about it because i know that it’s not possible.”

“what about thanksgiving with my family and christmas with yours?” daniel says and my heart skips a beat. “and then we can figure out new years later. i know you have to go home for christmas because you’ll get kicked out of dorms, and as much as i would love for you to just stay with us, i’m sure you want to go home and see your family.”

“daniel, as lovely as that sounds, you know how suspicious it would be for me to stay here for thanksgiving and for you to fly home with me? i don’t think even we would be able to keep that a secret.”

“fuck the secret, then, y/n.” he blurts out. “y/n, i don’t see us ending ever, and definitely not anytime soon and it’s not like we’re gonna keep this a secret forever. fuck the secret. corbyn was right, okay, the boys are gonna be happy for us. it’s not like they haven’t picked up on us being close these last few months and keeping this secret isn’t worth us being apart for the next few months, okay? it’s hard enough to spend only a few hours together a week, i don’t want to be away from you for all of thanksgiving and christmas too.”

“fuck the secret.” i say, with a smile forming on my face. “are we really doing this?”

“i see no better time than now, y/n.” daniel leans over the console to kiss my lips softly. “wanna go tell the boys now?”

“let’s do it.” i unbuckle my seatbelt with a weight lifted off of my shoulders. daniel and i meet in front of the car, our hands interlocking as we walked into the house as a non-secret couple for the first time.

the boys were all sitting in the living room and a movie was playing with all of the lights out. they all look over as daniel closes the door and the two of us walk over to them.

“y/n? what are you doing here? daniel didn’t tell us he was bringing you over.” zach says. “of course he just wants to hog you again.”

“do you guys wanna pause the movie for a second? we have some important news.” daniel says and we separate hands as to not give it away just yet.

“fucking finally.” jonah says.

“what?” i ask, wondering what he meant.

“i mean, i don’t want to be the one to say it and ruin it for you two, but i mean, come on, we’ve been waiting months for you to admit to it. so get on with it.” jonah gestures for us to continue. guess we weren’t as great secret keepers as we thought.

“y/n and i have been dating for about six months and kept it a secret from everyone.” daniel says and then takes my hand in his and pulls me closer so that i’m in his arms.

“SIX.” zach yells. “i knew there were vibes between you two but you guys are good. six months??”

“not that good.” corbyn mumbles, which causes the other three to look at him.

“you bitch!” jack then exclaims. “you knew? and you didn’t give me my damn money??”

“it’s their fault, they told me not to say anything!” corbyn defends, pointing a finger at the two of us. “i was not supposed to find out. i wish i didn’t, this was a lot of stress i didn’t need.”

“i would like my twenty bucks now, thank you very much.” jack says and corbyn quickly throws a twenty dollar bill at him.

“this is so unfair.” the ninteen year old looks at the rest of us. “jack gets twenty bucks, corbyn gets stress relief, daniel gets a girlfriend and it’s y/n. what do i get? i want something!”

“zach, i didn’t get anything from this either.” jonah reminds.

“shut up. you have a girlfriend.” zach screeches in his jokingly angry voice. “god, i’m so lonely.”

“i have a couple sisters, if you want.” i laugh a little. “you’d have to come home for christmas with danny and i, though.”

“and you’re leaving us for christmas? gosh damnit y/n, why can’t you guys stay with me for christmas?” zach exclaims, which makes us all laugh a little bit. i wasn’t sure how everyone was going to react, but this was a pretty funny one from zach.

“i hate to break it to you bud, but we’re, uh, all going home for christmas. we do every year.” jack sets a hand on his bandmates shoulder. “i’m pretty sure y/n would rather spend christmas with her boyfriend and her family than you, no offense.”

“what the fuck, y/n. you don’t wanna spend christmas with me?”

i’m laughing too much at this interaction to answer before jack.

“to be clear though, zach, i would choose to spend christmas with you.”

“well we have y/n for thanksgiving. we’re gonna see my family, so we’ll still be in la and can hang out. have our own little friendsgiving.” daniel suggests.

“no no no, i’m too lonely for friendsgiving.” zach expresses, deciding to be unhappy with everything we say just for the comedy of it. “i’m too single. you’re all in relationships, i can’t be the only lonely one.”

“um, bro, i too am single.” jack looks at him funny.

“okay, well yeah, but you have a child.”

“yes, a child who lives in hawaii. i’ll be your friendsgiving date.” jack offers.

“really? you meant it?” zach faked being emotional and jonah looks at them, then back at us with a funny look.

“well, now that we’ve dealt with... that, i just want to say we’re all really happy for you two.” jonah starts. “not that this is surprising to any of us, because there has been way too much sexual tension since we’ve all been friends for this to not have happened, but i’m very happy you decided to tell us.”

“are you guys gonna go public? like tell management?” corbyn asks.

daniel then looks at me a little nervously and then back at the guys, “yeah that’s the next thing we have to figure out.”

lovely.

[rapunzel-withthegoodhair]

everythingsheclaimed asked you: Top 5 Daimon Helstrom moments :)

PUT “TOP 5” ANYTHING IN MY ASK AND I WILL ANSWER OK GO

Top 5 Daimon Helstrom moments...according to CJ Wingrave 

                  (listen while reading) // (google doc link for easier viewing)

I.

The air across Portland shifts firmly, as if a warm front just pushed its way in across the frigid morning cold. Not slowly, but all at once. For a moment, the friction crackles in the air. As Daimon glances up from his office desk, a flash of lightning splices through the campus. Roaring thunder soon follows and the rain that he wouldn’t know how to live without begins to splash heavily across the windows. 

Storms in the pacific northwest aren’t unusual. On average, it rains 164 days out of every year in Portland alone. But it wasn’t supposed to today. Just moments ago, the sky was clear. 

Across campus, students are already chattering about how typical it is for Oregon to flip moods on a dime. But Daimon knows the truth. The change in energy across the city is undeniable. 

After seven whole months...CJ is back. 

~~~

The circle of candles in her room flickers to life just as her body appears within it. Rings of salt and iron guard the flames, ensuring nothing crosses over with the young witch. Blonde hair covers her face and for a few long moments, CJ just lays on the hardwood. Every muscle feels like rusted metal. As if her body was burned to ashes and then baked back together all over again. 

It’s never The Fade itself that fucks with her. It’s the process of travelling between dimensions. The process of ripping open the dense fabric of space-time and shoving herself through. It’s gotten a bit easier over the years. But her body is still made of simpler things than magic. Flesh and blood and bone is never meant for a thousand rebirths in one life. 

Everything inside of her wants to get up and stagger towards her phone right this very moment. But there’s simply no way. She needs rest. 

Eleven hours later, she wakes with a start. The candles have burned themselves out. And her mind is narrowed to one thought: Daimon. 

Her legs wobble like jelly beneath her as she leans heavily against her queen-sized bed. All she wants is a shower and some food and him. 

He answers on the first ring (he always does, for her). Sitting in his home office grading papers, he’d been fighting to focus on anything that wasn’t her return home. 

“How long was I gone?” She can never tell. CJ can’t stand to be away from Daimon for longer than a week. But traveling through the fabric of space-time warps everything. The farther she travels between dimensions, the longer she’s gone, even if it only feels like a few days for her. 

Immediately his laptop is closed. Rubbing at his tired eyes, Daimon pushes himself up. His spine screams in protest, neck stiff from staring down at a computer screen all day. Wincing, he pushes stubbornly through the pain. 

“Seven months.” The words are heavy. With relief. With exhaustion. He’d wait the rest of his life to see her again if he had to. But damn if the waiting doesn’t take its toll. After all, abandonment was all he really knew before her. “Can I come see you?” 

The rain that began earlier begins to pound harder outside. Tugging his coat on, he grabs his keys without even looking for an umbrella. Nothing can keep him out of her gravitational pull. Even if she says no he’d be content to sleep in his car in the looming shadow of her apartment building. To feel what tiny seeds of her energy he can soak up now that she’s back in his atmosphere. 

“Yeah…” Gripping the doorframe to her bathroom, CJ barely makes it to the bathtub without injury. Their connection is so intense, she swears she can feel him all over her already. Strong chest pressed to the skin of her back. His delicate fingers tracing her throat. His cold nose along the back of her ear, drinking in the milk and honey scent that lingers strong after a trip to The Fade. “Yeah, I need you.” 

For the first time in seven months, a smile pulls at his stoney features and light flickers back into his stormy blue eyes. 

II.

She appears without warning.

One moment, the classroom desk in the far corner of the back row is empty. Next, CJ is soaking in the beam of sunlight falling through the windows. Sunlight is hard to come by in Portland. But CJ likes to play with the weather to fit her mood. Apparently, she’s feeling bright today. Playful.

Eyes falling on her for just a moment, Daimon doesn’t allow his lecture to skip a beat. Though a tiny smirk tugs at his mouth.

“The Greeks believed that goodness and beauty were interwoven. They were inextricable. And hey, maybe they were right. Isn’t beauty just chaos given order? Isn’t order what allows us to survive?”

“Or maybe that’s just what we tell ourselves to justify hitting on the same girl every one else is eyeing at the bar.”

The class turns to glance at her. No one has the spine to ask where the hell she came from or what her name is. But they’re all thinking it. Particularly the boys.

Arching an eyebrow, Daimon’s posture straightens slightly. He pushes away from his desk, eyes locked on her own as he responds carefully. Few students have ever dared to interrupt him during lectures. If she were anyone else, they’d be sorry for trying. But CJ’s mischievous side is his greatest weakness.

“It’s interesting...we’re always so arrogant to assume beauty is about us. Isn’t...a neatly pruned orchard beautiful? A well built house?” Glancing casually across the sea of students, he shrugs. “Do we not crave order? Is this not what keeps us alive?”

“Keeps us alive for what? If not to enjoy the chaos of passion. If beauty is the key to passion, how does the argument stand? How can beauty be both order and bring chaos at the same time?” A smirk twitches over her pretty mouth, eyes dancing with his as their mental waltz dizzies the rest of the class.

For a moment, Daimon allows her words to hang in the air. He mulls them over, then ultimately shrugs.

“Clearly Miss Wingrave isn’t Greek.” A low rumble of laughter disperses the tension in the room and the two of them exchange amused smiles.

After class, she waits patiently for the other girls to finish coming up with excuses to talk to him. Stupid questions and cliché compliments, their bouncy curls twisted around manicured fingers as they giggle while he isn’t even trying to be funny. But his eyes have trouble staying away from the long legs CJ has crossed at the knees while perched on a desk in the front row. He can feel her eyes dragging over his skin, as hungry as her teeth when they’re in bed.

With a flick of her wrist, the door locks behind the last girl to leave.

He closes the space between them with purposeful steps, slowly tugging her thighs apart so as to stand between them. Cold hands hooking under her knees, he pulls her closer. Nuzzles over her forehead, into the warmth of her hair.

“You’re a  brat.” His words are a breathy laugh against her skin as a gentle kiss is dropped to hairline. Feeling her this close is to him, the same sort of relief a morphine addict feels as they finally get a needle to the arm. “And you’re so full of shit. I know you don’t believe a word you said.”

“Of course, I do.” Smirking softly, her fingers brush through his short hair, then down his shoulder. “I’m my own best evidence that beautiful doesn’t always mean good.”

“You’re plenty good.” He shakes his head in disbelief, amusement twitching at his lips. Slowly his fingers tug her ponytail undone so he can have the luxury of feeling her long, silky hair fill the spaces between his fingers.

“Only to you.” She has to admit, she’s softer with him. Softer than she even knew she could be. Anyone who only saw the side of her that Daimon brings out would never guess what she gets up to in The Fade. Or how rebelliously outspoken and impatiently abrupt she can be here.  

“Yeah, you’re right.” He sighs through a soft mumble over her skin, nuzzling into her neck, searching out the pocket of warmth there. “You can be a little bit of a monster. Like when you apparate into my classroom mid-lecture just to interrupt me.”

His words pull a laugh out of the girl as she drags a hand up and down along his spine. “I just like to watch you teach. It’s what I miss the most when I’m gone.”

Carefully, Daimon untangles himself to pull back. His brows knit together in a disbelieving (and slightly offended) look. He works hard to keep her satisfied in bed. Very hard.

CJ’s head tips back as she gives up a theatrical sigh. “Okay, the second most.”

“Better.” Playfully nipping at her lower lip, he gently curls his fingers into her hair and tugs just firmly enough to fit their mouths together in a deep kiss.

III.

It’s late when he knocks at her door. But CJ feels him the moment he enters her apartment building. His energy is low, dialed down with exhaustion after a night spent fighting and ultimately descending a particularly nasty demon. But the connection between them is like a tethered cord. The slightest tug always ripples through her body.

Reaching up on her toes, she pulls him into a warm hug. His body is colder than usual in her arms as it fights to heal from expending so much energy. She loves Louise, but this bullshit is going to get him killed. Why the woman insists her replacement be a powerless human so completely out of touch with their world of witchcraft and demonology, CJ will never understand. She’d be lying if she said being passed over for the position hadn’t stung. Though in fairness to the older woman, she’d never given Louise much reason to hope that Daimon could always rely on her presence in this realm. A month or two at home and CJ is always back to flitting between worlds.  

Pushing the troubling reminder of Gabriella away, her thoughts narrow to the simple task of making him tea. She turns to head into the kitchen and Daimon trails after her quietly, like a stray puppy in want of a home.

She cups his cheek as they stand by the stove, dragging in a slow deep breath while waiting for the kettle to warm. There are fresh lines on his face, a map of  all the stress he keeps balanced on his shoulders. Guilt tries to knock at her heart. If you wouldn’t leave him to bear the earth alone like Atlas, maybe it wouldn’t weigh so much. But she knows it’s bullshit.

She loves him. But she can’t cure Victoria or bring Ana home or turn back time on what his father did to him. Worse than any of these, she’ll never convince Louise to send Gabriella back to The Vatican. Tracing the pad of her thumb over the dark circles beneath his left eye, her features soften.

“You need sleep, baby.”

A wrinkle finds his nose. He can’t stomach the thought of wasting time sleeping while she’s home. When she may leave again tomorrow and take ten months to return. Or ten years. Or ten centuries.

“I’ll sleep when you’re gone.” His voice is soft and stubborn, but so vulnerable. The cold tip of his nose nudges into her shoulder as he curls against her. CJ’s slender arms wrap around his larger body and she tries so hard to push away the guilt his words dredge up. She tries to just hold him and love him and be here and let that be enough.

IV.

She’s the only one who ever gets his coffee order right. Double brewed, black with cinnamon stirred in. 

When he comes back to his office after class and finds the cup of Starbucks waiting on his desk next to a wax paper bag of fresh apple fritters, he knows she’s gone again. 

Leaving gifts behind like Santa is the only way she knows to stomach a goodbye. She’s never looked him in his eyes and said it. He almost wishes she would, even though he knows it would rip his heart out to hear the words aloud. At least he’d be able to see her eyes and know without a doubt that leaving hurts her too. 

V.

The water around them swirls with CBD oil, hot enough to steam up the windows of her bathroom. Her clawfoot tub easily fits both of them and a smile pulls at his mouth as he rests back against her. No one else ever lets him be the little spoon and it never fails to take the weight off of his shoulders in seconds. 

Slowly, CJ scoops up handfuls of warm water, pouring each one down over his shoulders and chest. She rubs the back of his neck carefully, thumb massaging at the tight muscles there. The candles lighting up the room flicker lightly as she pulses healing magic through his skin and down into his bones. He’s not even injured right now, and even if he were, his demon blood allows him to heal faster than her magic could ever knit muscle tissue. 

But he hasn’t been able to reach Victoria in over a month and he’s broken from the effort. She can feel it hanging heavy in his skin, making each breath feel like he’s trying to kick to the surface with rocks tied to his ankles.  

He’s tired of being alone. He’s tired of shouldering Victoria’s demons alone. He’s tired of fighting demons alone. He’s tired of dealing with family trauma that isn’t his cross to bear alone (since Gabriella seems to think it’s morally abject of him to turn those he’s helped over to her for counseling). And he’s tired of waking up in an empty bed, alone. 

Brushing a hand along her thigh, he tries to find the words. To beg her to stay. To convince her that he needs her more than any Fae or Spirit or Goddess. 

Carefully, he drags in a breath, summoning his courage. 

“I’m going to stay.” Her words are soft but clear. “I want to stay here, with you. If you’ll have me. If you promise you won't grow sick of me.” 

Her arm wraps across his shoulders and she holds him close. 

“Careful...” Slowly, a tiny smile tugs at his mouth. “ I may not let you go again. Ever.” 

He’s trying so hard not to have real hope. He trusts CJ with every fiber of his being. To catch him when he falls. To fight on his side. To hold her ground when hell comes knocking. But the part of him that’s been left behind too many times is never sure if this is the last time she’ll come home. Still, he wants to believe it so badly it aches in his bones. 

“Good…” She smiles into his neck, pressing a soft kiss there, words down to a whisper. “I won’t let you go again either.”

[thefloatingstone]

Last time I made a playlist of recommended youtube channels to enjoy while in lockdown or self quarantine, I focused on individual videos while also recommending other videos from the same channel.

I thought I’d make another list only this time I’m going to be recommending playlists or series on youtuber instead of just individual videos.

This is gonna go exactly like last time, so check out any of these that might seem interesting to you, and hopefully I can give you something to look into if you want something to watch but don’t feel like watching a Netflix or Crunchyroll show.

Last time I tried to put this under a read more break but it didn’t work and I ended up posting this long-ass post on everyone’s dash. Well I decided to do so again here. hit J to skip to the bottom of the post if you don’t feel like reading this whole thing. If you’re on tumblr mobile; why?

In no particular order;

Cinemassacre movie reviews and topics

All of you already know James Rolfe as the AVGN. I started watching him before Youtube was even a thing, before he was even signed on with Screwattack. Back when his videos could only be seen on his own website (or for some reason included on the free DVD you got with the local video game magazines). However, I eventually outgrew the outrage style humour of the AVGN episodes... but then James started doing Monster Madness where he would talk about his love for horror movies, and this where I learned about his vast knowledge about movie history and even films I had never even heard mention of before! I think it’s safe to say, he got me to be interested in movie history just as much as movie production and film as a viewing experience.

I recommend this playlist which is a hodgepodge of James talking about old horror movie franchises, talking about his first experience with Power Rangers as someone who didn’t grow up with it, or how Bob Ross is a childhood hero of his. It’s an excellent play list that’s really laid back but you learn a lot of stuff from it. James is very informed for the most part and it leads you to wanting to check out a lot of these things too, just because he’s so passionate about it.

If I ever get over my weird hang up about speaking out loud, these are the kinds of videos I’d like to make.

Vinesauce Vinny: The Neverhood

Vinny is by no means a new Let’s Player, having been on Youtube for over 10 years now, but I only started watching him a few months ago. I started with this playlist when I saw he was doing The Neverhood, a game I had heard about but never seen played before. The Neverhood is a bizarre game, as a point and click PC game from the 90s where the entirety of the video game was made with stop motion and clay. Something that sounds so insane you would say it’s impossible if not for the fact that it exists. The claymation itself is extremely well done, and the game has a really weird and absurd sense of humour. Just the strangest things happen in this thing. Now couple that with Vinny’s very dry and straightforward delivery and you have probably one of the funniest Let’s Plays I’ve watched in a long time.

This is also “short” for a Let’s Play series. With only 4 parts to it, the longest video only being a bit under and hour and 30 minutes. It’ll still take up a good chunk of your time, but it’s not as daunting as some of the other Let’s Plays I’ll mention on this list.

Team Four Star: Pokemon Shield Nuzlocke

Exactly what it says on the tin. The guys from Team Four Star play Pokemon Shield with Nuzlocke rules. They’ve done several Nuzlocke runs in the past, but I find the Pokemon Shield is the best one they’ve done. Especially since a lot of the needless fluff and grinding has been edited out. So unlike some of their previous series you don’t see a lot of Kieran and Grant running in a circle for an hour trying to catch a specific pokemon or trying to get to a certain level.

It’s also hilarious as they have a lot of “house rules” for the Nuzlocke often involving the exercise bike they.... have..... for some reason.

It’s very good and the gym battles become SUPER hype with the Nuzlocke rules and the music.

Baywatching

Having been going to a few years now, watch Allison try her very best to go through and do a video series where she talks about summarises every episode of Baywatch.

.... Ever. Single. Episode.

She’s not even close to done yet (and now she’s introduced Baywatch Nights AS WELL) but her trying to explain the batshit insanity of this show, it’s over the top characters, it’s insane plots and behind the scenes weirdness with all the enthusiasm and love for this slice of 90s is amazing. Please enjoy a good thick chunk of inside jokes, silly character voices, and a whole lot of ?????

Brutal Moose: Shenmue

Probably one of the most chill channels on all of Youtube, Brutal Moose aka Ian, prefers playing games you wouldn’t think would make for good Let’s Plays. And maybe they don’t, objectively. A collection of playlists covering Truck Simulator, Nancy Drew, Hidden Object games etc etc, spliced in with old commercials from drive in theaters from the 50s,60s and 70s. Ian’s Let’s Play channel is great for just putting on and letting play for company while you’re drawing or grinding in a video game or playing Stardew or something.

I recommend his Shenmue playthrough as Ian completely fell in love with the game and went on to play both the sequel and the newly released third game. Ian genuinely adores the weird voice acting and all the menial tasks and mini-games you can do. I watched this a lot in 2018 when I was going through a rough time, and it really helped me in a strange way to just put Ian on and listen to him talk to the chat and drive a forklift around for like 4 hours straight before going to Tomato Mart or wasting all his money on the gacha machines.

A Measured Response to “In Defense of Dark Souls 2″

At some point, big name youtuber Hbomberguy made a video called “In Defense of Dark Souls II”. I’m not subscribed to Hbomberguy but I enjoyed his video on why Sherlock (the BBC show) is trash. (come to think of it I should have added that to the first list). And it seems the video on Sherlock was really good and well argued.... and it seems his “In Defense of Dark Souls 2″ video... was not.

Using subjective language, bad representation of facts, or simply outright getting certain information wrong, Hbomberguy′s video on Dark Souls II is, at best, a man trying to argue that he likes Dark Souls II because it is “Objectively good”, rather than simply accept he likes it... because he likes it.

MauLer is kind of an asshole, but I have learned more about dissecting someone’s argument and deconstructing what they have said watching his response series than I have in any english or debate class I have ever had.

The response is over 10 hours long, but this is because MauLer takes time with each and every statement he takes umbrage with, discussing what is being said, discusses why it is false or dubious, and then compares with actual facts and research.

If you ever want to know how to to distinguish subjective opinion from objective fact in someone else’s argument regarding... ANYTHING really, I highly recommend this series.

I may not like MauLer as a person, but DAMN if he doesn’t know how to deconstruct an argument in a logic, emotionless way.

John Wolfe: Maize

Maize is a stupid game. a Stupid stupid game.

It involves sentient corn, and underground secret genetics lab, a Russian bootleg teddy bear that hates everyone, sentient corn, and a crumpet.

This game IMMEDIATELY went on my wishlist after watching this playthrough. Please watch John try and figure what the actual fuck is going on in this Monty Python-eque weird black comedy. It’s stupid, it’s weird, it’s bizarre and it’s honestly one of the funniest games I’ve seen streamed.

Hollywood: a Celebration of the Silent Era

This is not a youtube playlist. I mean it IS, but what this actually is, is a TV series released in the UK in 1980 covering the Silent Film era. As it was made in 1980, it includes interviews with many of the silent film stars who were often still alive during this documentary’s production. Each episode covers a specific theme of the silent movie era. One episode is about comedies, one is about WWI, one is about Westerns etc etc.

It’s a fascinating series, because it focuses on the silent era which, in modern day, I think many people unfairly think of as “those first few years of movies before movies really became a thing.” And that’s such a shame and really not true. The artistry, camera tricks, and raw nature of this early era of film making is so important and produced films which can still be watched today easily, possibly even easier than a few modern movies as often the very fact that the films are silent means they are universal, regardless of what language you speak.

I think an episode or two might have been turned to private or copyright claimed in this playlist, but I know if you do a search on youtube you can find the episode uploaded by someone else.

Diamanda Hagan: Bonekickers

Bonekickers is the show Mathew Graham made before he went on to work on the new Dr. Who. It is about archaeologists and it is God-fucking-Awful.

It is.... look. Ok. I like Archaeology a lot. But this isn’t a show that’s bad “if you like history” or “if you know things about archaeology”. This show is bad because it doesn’t make a single fucking lick of sense, all the characters are awful and terrible, and even if you understand what’s going on in the story you’re still going to be screaming “WHY????” at the screen as each new baffling stupid piece of the puzzle slots into place.

Diamanda Hagan has 0 time for this garbage and she’s going to walk you through each episode to show you how truly horrible this piece of garbage is.

Cry Plays: Ori and the Blind Forest

With Ori and the Will of the Wisps releasing recently, now is a great time to go and watch Cry playthrough the first Ori game. an absolutely gorgeous piece of work with a beautiful soundtrack and really likeable character designs and a sweet story, Ori is a great game to put on, sit back, and just let it wash over you. Cry’s playthrough is also great because although its a Metroidvania game, Cry fast forwards the parts where he backtracks for a long period of time, so you don’t get stuck watching him run back and forth as he tries to figure out where to go next or anything like that.

Cry also recently started playing the sequel as well!

If you enjoyed this list at all, please consider tipping me for a coffee

☕️ Ko-fi ☕️

[joecial-distancing]

2019 in review in review:

A few years ago I started tracking yearly goals, books read, movies watched etc in a year, along with overview blurbs, in private posts. End of 2019/beginning of 2020 I was really frazzled/burned out about a lot of stuff and just never finished up making the thing. 8 months later, got the urge to read back what I’d got done, then figured I’d maybe go ahead and see about finishing. 

Media tracking below the break. thoughts/blurbs written in 2020 italicized, 2019 not.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~_____________________________~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Didn’t do so hot on explicit personal goals, but had a lot of stuff go ok around them this year.

School’s been fine/better than fine.

Job’s probably the biggest failing. Still with same job, haven’t made the firm moves to jump off, dragging my feet too much on exploring stuff w/ Columbia/NASA GISS.

Did not get better with covid, lol

Dating life still non-existent, but I’ve registered on apps, gotten more comfortable with selfies, improved general social life dramatically, been flirted with, updated my wardrobe, and generally started to get comfortable accepting that I’m a hot person.

Somehow got extremely better during covid.

Books

Grant (finished)

We stan a taurus legend

Guy was good at exactly one job, and was fortunate enough to have been in the right place/right time to get to do it.

Mort (discworld)

Definitely best discworld I’ve gotten to so far.

Don Quixote p. II

Really entertaining in a way that part 1 wasn’t; I was shocked how much the meta element landed for me.

Consider the Lobster (DFW collection)

had zero context on who DFW is/was when I read, and still don’t exactly tbh. Wanted to wait for a pause in The Discourse before diving into more of him, but dunno if I’m ever going to get that.

Crime and Punishment (revisited)

Weirdly didn’t get much more out of this than I did the first time I’d read it

Better Than Sex (HST Gonzo papers)

Xerox/widespread fax accessibility opening citizen access to mass media in a manner really reminiscent of what social media would go on to do at a much larger scale. Has a much more deliberate narrative arc than the other gonzo papers collections, also has that excellent HST richard nixon eulogy

The Brothers Karamazov

SPQR

Slouching Towards Bethlehem (Didion collection)

Pet Sematary

Not my favorite King, but not bad

Sourcery (discworld)

still funny/charming, but Mort really made clear/reminded me how much the hapless sadsack Rincewind mold of protagonist wears on me after a while.

The Devil's Teeth

My Year of Rest and Relaxation

Liked it a lot more once I realized it was doing a Fear and Loathing thing.

Homage to Catalonia

This should be the Orwell that gets taught in schools. Make it a followup to All Quiet on the Western Front or something, jeez.

Lyndon Johnson I

Having now finished all of them, this one’s probably the least-interesting but sets up a bunch of important context that the others still then feel the need to retread.

The Razor's Edge

Recommended to me as a “white guy discovers eastern mysticism” book, but also is more interesting in its treatment of that than I’d expected (helps it was written in the 40s). 

Cat's Cradle

There’s a part in this where Vonnegut’s making fun of people who try to bond with strangers over being Hoosiers, and my dumbass immediate thought was “ooh, Vonnegut’s a hoosier? Me too!”

Lyndon Johnson II

Robert Caro felt compelled to apologize for spending so much words lionizing Coke Stevens, segregationist opponent to Johnson’s senate run. His goal was pretty clearly to show lbj’s lack of campaign charisma by contrast, definitely definitely overcommitted in his own narrativising.

Libra

I want to go back to this after reading some more De Lillo.

Gravity's Rainbow

This book absolutely kicked my ass

Overstuffed and referential in a specific way that really keeps me hooked in instead of put off. When I learn about some piece of cultural context that I retroactively recognize as being referenced in this, I want to go back and reread the entire thing.

From Caligari to Hitler

Kind of fails both as film criticism and cultural analysis, but absolutely made me want to run for the hills when considering current relationship between mainstream movies and demands of pop culture.

I took a class on Weimar cinema in undergrad that I now realize was probably biting pretty heavily from this and never once referenced it.

Movies

Venom

Movie itself is not as fun as the Tom Hardy hype coverage. PG13 was the absolute worst space to aim for, PG- or R- versions of this could have been a blast.

Harryhauser Argonauts

Was tripping when I put this on, and it was all kinds of fun.

2001: a Space Oddyssey

First time seeing this, all-time classic for a reason!

A Good American (the NSA doc)

Dr. Strangelove

Mel Brooks History of the World p. I

Not my favorite Brooks, best joke was at the beginning.

In Bruges

Had been a while since I saw a proper dark comedy.

Spiderverse

Fukkin awesome!

Visually great, and extremely better than usual superhero stuff for being aimed at PG instead of PG-13.

You Only Live Twice

Highlander (Revisited)

I watched The Old Guard on netflix recently and it mostly just made me wish I was watching Highlander instead, because at least Highlander knows exactly how goofy it is

Moonraker

The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly

Much like The Shining, I though this would have been 100% spoiled for me by cultural osmosis, but turns out it wasn’t, and even the scenes I had seen *totally landed* in-context still.

Kung Fu Hustle

Ichi the Killer

Really gross, really fun

Matrix Reloaded (watched thru highway scene) (Revisited)

The highway scene was not nearly as cool as I remembered it being.

John Wick 3*

Probably dumbest plot of all of them, best choreography. I like how every single fight had its own distinct flavor. “Knife museum fight” “horse fight” “halle berry dogs fight” 

Akira

A classic

Pet Sematary * (ugh, bad)

Why can’t john lithgow be in good movies anymore

The Revenant

MCU Spiderman

Fuck this was awful.

MCU Spiderman 2*

Really weird, complete Rorschach Test of a movie: it’d be totally valid to read into this that global warming is Fake News, for instance.

Lmao this was completely awful

Rites

Dredd (non-stallone)

oh hey Lena Headey’s in this

For All Mankind!

Watched in honor of moon landing anniversary

Lion King *

Watched it way too stoned, was like dark side of the moon + wizard of oz except instead it’s a lion king script reading + nature footage edited for lip syncing.

Once Upon a Time in Hollywood *

Many scenes of very long setups for really stupid shaggy dog jokes, which sometimes worked and sometimes didn’t. I do kinda want to rewatch now knowing more about manson, which I knew pretty much nothing about beforehand

Blowout

A good john lithgow movie

also I think I like travolta in things.

Lord of War

A Good cage movie

I like when Eamon Walker shows up in stuff.

Taxi Driver

A classic

Snowpiercer

Watched in a bar with only one speaker working, which is the correct way to watch. Weirder and funnier than I thought it was going to be, which still doesn’t make it good, but,

dbz big green dub

Exorcist III

Brad Dourif just tearing it apart

Deep Red (argento)

Suspiria (1977)

Watched the remake in 2020, which was ok, but nothing tops the Goblin score.

Elf Bowling

Thanks, Gnome

Parasite *

Interesting to me that this one seems poised to hang around people’s good esteem for a while

TV

FMA: B

Rick & Morty

Saw some episodes, generally pretty funny, some misanthropy that’s probably appealing to a certain type of teen al a something like House, but ultimately I don’t totally Get the intensity of discourse about it.

Leterkenny

Mob Psycho 100

One Punch Man

Deadwood

Watchmen

Only watched like half of it. Was playing around with a lot of hefty imagery/thematics, but didn’t really seem ready to rise above playing (tho also I feel like it’s weird on some level to *expect* them to rise above that in the first place)

Music

New Avantasia

HEALTH/ show

lol remember concerts

King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard/ show

Just learned about King Gizz in 2019 and got completely obsessed with them. I don’t tend to expand my music selection very readily, and a lot of what I currently *do* know is old/inactive stuff, so it was/is incredibly exciting to have an active group with good momentum just immediately win me over like that.

Mistimed the edibles and ended up with a really good finale and a really long subway ride home.

New Yeasayer

Sad they split up

Steve Wilson Tull remixes

Aqualung’s a good album and the sound mixing’s kinda bad, so I liked this project.

Stonefield

Opened for Gizzard. Really good as studying music

Video Games

Civ VI: Gathering Storm

Hades

Turns out Supergiant’s design proclivities all work *extremely well* on a roguelike

Baba is You

Untitled Goose Game

Cute, if maybe a bit overhyped

finally fucking finished Pillars of Eternity

Had fun with it, but too long, and really dour for how long it is.

Pillars II

Kinda drifted off it eventually, but I do genuinely like that the flavor of the fantasy is colonial era rather than medieval.

There’s a Balancing Bastard Factions element where it’s like the writers are just being smartasses after a while. Having to go extremely out of their way to make siding with colonizers seem like a competitive option.

Pokemon shield

Cuphead

pisses me off, which was a nice outlet when I was stranded by flight cancellations during thanksgiving

Celeste

Also very difficult, but really easy to stay patient with, which is nice.

Disco Elysium

None of the discourse made me want to play this, but people talking about the mechanical stuff it did got me extremely interested. Mostly Delivered IMO.

Breath of the Wild

You can approach the nodes of the main quest in the order you choose, and the second one I chose made ninjas start fucking spawning everywhere when I’m just trying to explore, and there’s no way to make it stop. May go back to it one day.

Podcasts

Relentless Picnic Patreon feed

The treats really helped me start distinguishing individual personalities, compared to the regular eps.

Picnic Discord!

<3

FatT Counterweight

Fun, but also I think Mechs are not my shit.

FatT Spring in Hieron/ end of that particular world

8 months since I’ve last tuned into FatT. ah well.

Law School

He’s in everythiiiing!

You Must Remember This: Manson family

*There’s* the context

Misc.

Kindle train guy

Times Square sleeping guy + kids taking selfies w/ him

toddler singing along after Psycho killer (a, ya, ya ya, ya)

drunk and dragged to a drag show

Central park football family

Soft Steel Drum Subway Busker

Weird old lady going to grand central for oysters

2018 in review (cards):

MySelf (CC)

Self: Tower

Blocked: 10 Cups

Ethereal/subconscious: 8 Swords

Material: 3 Swords

Past: Justice

Future: Page Wands

Attitude: Sun

External: King Swords

Hopes/Fears: 5 Coins

Trajectory: High Priestess

Also Self:

Hierophant

7 Cups

7 Coins

Blind Spot:

(self & others): 5 cups    ||    (others not self): High Priestess

(self not others): Moon   ||    (nobody): 3 Cups

[istheresomebodywhocanimagine]

Got Your Nose

anonymous said: Hi there!! Could you do an AU Roger Tayor fanfiction where he is a single dad and he meets the reader and really likes her and finally introduces her to his kid and she is so sweet with them and then eventually the kid ends up calling her mommy and just cute af fluff please and thank you??

(a/n: i’m so sorry i had to make the kid a girl. Imagining roger w a little girl just spoiling the shit out of her made my anti-kid heart swell a little bit. gif credit to @imladrs hehe ok time 2 code a website for class before it’s due woops)

“A surprise?! A puppy!”

“It’s not a puppy, sweetheart, it’s something better!” you heard Roger explain from the other side of the door, and you had to giggle as you listened for Camellia’s sweet little voice.

“Better than a puppy?” the young girl asked in disbelief, a small bit of attitude in her tone as you heard Roger laugh and walk towards the door. Suddenly, you were extremely nervous about all of this. It didn’t help that as they got to the door, Cam exclaimed, “Daddy, nothing is better than a puppy.”

“Oh, don’t be silly,” Roger dismissed teasingly, and you heard him pick up his daughter, making her squeal in delight. “Up you go, lovie. Are you ready?”

This was it. You felt your heart pounding in your chest as the front door unlocked, and you briefly imagined the worst case scenarios – Cam takes one look at you, decides you’re not interesting, and asks where the puppy is. Or she doesn’t even acknowledge you, or worse – she does, but she says she doesn’t like you.

Swallowing hard, you put on a smile as the door swung open. There was Roger, dressed to the nines in a simple t-shirt and track pants. His short but slightly curly hair was sleep-worn, and he looked very much like a dad today, which was not at all what he usually looked like. It was like seeing him again for the first time.

You remembered when you’d seen him for the first time. They were recording The Game in Munich, where you were visiting family, and you’d run into him by chance at a record store one afternoon. You were perusing the selections when you’d picked up an old Queen album, and a man nearby had scoffed at your selection – or so you’d thought.

“What’s so funny?” you asked, curiously watching the blonde who was standing around four feet away, holding a Jimi Hendrix vinyl. “Queen not your cup of tea?”

The man’s eyes were obscured behind dark sunglasses, unreadable – he didn’t remotely look like the last time you’d seen a picture of Roger Taylor, so it was no wonder you didn’t recognize him. You were admittedly a bit out of the loop, so the last time you’d seen a picture of the man in passing was years ago, and he was sporting a long, shaggy haircut and a lighter, bohemian-esque fit. This man was in a leather jacket and black tshirt, with a chunky chain necklace to match the wallet chain that was hanging from the belt loop on his jeans. His wavy blonde hair was cropped to a medium-short length, and it was unbelievably messy. There was an innocent look to his face, but a small smirk played at the corner of his mouth, as if he knew more than he let on.

“Oh, Queen?” he said, and you marveled at the Anglo-Cornish accent that pervaded the surprisingly mellow voice of someone who looked like they’d just stepped out of a Black Sabbath concert. “They’re all a bunch of cock-stars, really.”

“Ah.” You looked at the Queen II album cover in your hand, pointing to the one on the left (which you later found out was John) and looking at the man again. “He looks like a nice chap. Not bad looking either.”

“Oh, he might be the worst of them all,” he quickly replied, an impish grin sneaking its way onto his lips. “I’ve met them all. They’re insufferable. Don’t waste your time on them, gorgeous.”

“Really?” you asked, intrigued now and mainly ignoring his come-on. Although you weren’t sure whether you should trust a stranger’s word that they’d met such a big band, anything was possible. After all, you’d heard they were recording in the area. “Honestly? I don’t really know any of them. Usually don’t listen to this type of music.”

The toothy grin on his face was practically cracking his cheeks by this point, and you tried not to be too unnerved by this giddiness as he spoke. “The lead singer is a big drama queen, and that chap you pointed to? Right prick. Full of himself. The drummer might be the only one worse than him.” He chuckled, then shook his head and set the Hendrix album down, stepping just a foot or two closer and leaning against the stack of records next to him. “You said you don’t listen to this kind of music. What brings you over to this part of the store then?”

“Me?” you asked, almost confused that he was showing interest in your record selection. But you’d been chatted up in weirder places than a record store, so you played into it. “I usually listen to Stevie Wonder and the Commodores and Marvin Gaye, stuff like that. Just thought I’d change it up a bit, you know? I’m visiting an aunt here for a month or two since I just graduated uni, so I’ve got time out my arse for new music.”

“Uni? So you were a student. Where at?” he asked, moving his sunglasses to the top of his head. He had inquisitive eyes that were a shocking shade of blue, and he watched you patiently as he waited for an answer.

“London.”

“London, a lovely place. I’m actually from London myself, I’m also in the city visiting… What did you study at uni? Modeling?”

Scoffing at the notion, you were about to answer when a much taller man with a wild mop of brown curls approached the strange blonde from behind, clapping a hand to his shoulder and looking at you with curious eyes before looking down at the blonde. “Made a friend, Roger?” came the smooth, slightly lower voice of the second strange man, and you swore you’d seen his face before as he looked back to you again. After a quick glance at the album in your hand, he gave a quick chuckle and let go of Roger’s shoulder. “You going to buy that for her?”

“I was just telling her how the guitarist is a massive knobhead,” Roger replied teasingly, and you looked down to the album to be smacked across the face with the answer. The two men in front of you were right there, on the cover of Queen II, and you’d been sitting here like an idiot, not even realizing you were shooting the shit with one of the members of the band.

“Oh, eat a dick,” the man with curls laughed, shoving Roger’s head forward and grabbing the Hendrix album that he’d left sitting on top of other records. “Better have told her the drummer sucks something awful.”

A blush was quickly creeping up on your cheeks as you witnessed the interaction, not sure if you should apologize for not recognizing them or be thankful that he wasn’t offended. But Roger ended up being delighted to find a new Queen fan in you, and took down your number before he left with the man who introduced himself as Brian.

Roger ended up taking up most of your time in Munich after that, taking you all over the city on romantic dates, including a private boat ride up the river. Even once, he brought you by the studio for a brief visit when Freddie called him. You were ecstatic to see that side of the music industry, and you even got to meet John, who was amused to hear that you’d thought he looked nice on the cover of Queen II (Roger got an earful for that one later).

In fact, you spent so much time around him that you were upset when it was time for you to finally leave. But Roger promised he’d visit you as soon as they were done recording, and he did. He also said he had a surprise for you when he got back, and you were floored to find out what the surprise really was.

He had a 4 year old daughter from a previous relationship that he’d been dying to tell you about, and she was almost a carbon copy of him. Beautiful blonde hair, ocean blue eyes, and from what he’d told you, an attitude bigger than the Earth itself. But she was sweet as well, and she loved her dad dearly, just as much as he loved her.

“I want you to meet her,” he’d said one day, when you were both lounging on your bed back in London. He was playing with your hand, his head resting on your belly as he looked up at you.

“Meet Camellia?” You panicked a little, chewing on your lip as you ran a hand through his hair. This was a bit sudden for you, seeing as you’d only been involved together for around 3 to 4 months, but maybe he was just talking in the future. “When?”

“Tomorrow,” he answered quickly, an edge of excitement in his voice as he propped himself up on his elbows, one on either side of you. Oh, Jesus, tomorrow? “She’s itching to meet you. Ever since I showed her a picture of you on the river in Munich, she’s been wanting to meet ‘dad’s girly-friend.’”

You cooed softly, smiling as he crawled to hover over you, trapping you down to the bed. “But Rog, what if she ends up not liking me?” you worried, reaching up to brush a stray hair from his forehead before pressing your palm to his cheek. He smiled affectionately, then pressed a quick kiss to the inside of your hand before nuzzling it.

“She’ll adore you, promise.” He then kneeled between your legs, pressing his fists into the mattress as he carefully lowered himself so he was laying on top of you, resting his head on your chest. You shifted a bit so he rested between your legs better, then began to brush your fingers back through his hair and ponder the idea a bit.

“Is she not with her mom tomorrow?” you questioned, furrowing your eyebrows as you stared at the ceiling. You couldn’t really pinpoint why you felt so overwhelmed by the concept of meeting Cam – it was possible that it was mainly because you desperately wanted her acceptance. Roger had quickly become a fixture in your life, and you were pretty fond of him. It would be horrible if the number one girl in his life decided that she didn’t like number two, which was you. You couldn’t even let yourself make Roger choose between the two of you – you’d have to leave him, just to make Cam happy. That thought scared you a lot.

“No, I gave her the next few days off. I wanted to spend alone time with the little bugger.” You could feel the rumble of his chuckle against your chest, resounding deep into your heart, and you smiled a bit as you shook your head.

“Alone time?” you repeated, and Roger laughed at your not-so-subtle prying.

“Alone time with you included, of course.” You raised an eyebrow, and Roger looked up at you, grinning before moving back up to support himself on his elbows again, giving you a quick kiss. “Baby, I swear. She will love you. I might have to beg her to spend time with me at the end of the day.”

And that was that. You’d agreed to come over in the morning, and now here you were, a fatherly Roger holding an energetic and curious young girl on his shoulders. She was peeking down at you over her father’s head, and he gave you a wide smile before looking up at Cam.

“Cammy, this is the lady I’ve been telling you about. Y/N, come in!” he invited, opening the door wider and stepping to the side as Cam never took her eyes off you. She had a devilish grin, much like her dad, and you smiled right back as you stepped inside, looking around a bit at the unfamiliar den area. “It’s a bit of a mess, sorry. Cam here has been a whirlwind this morning.”

“Have not!” the 4 year-old protested, plugging Roger’s nose as an act of vengeance. “You’re a whirlywind,” she taunted back, wiggling his nose and making him laugh as he looked up at her.

“Help, don’t let her take my nose!” he cried out in a melodramatic (and nasally) voice, looking at you as Cam giggled in pure glee and pretended to snatch his nose before he sat her back down on the ground and held a hand over his face. “Oh no, don’t give it to Y/N, I’ll never see it again!”

The reverse psychology worked remarkably well, and she ran straight over to you, handing you the invisible nose before running off and shrieking. “Run! Run!” You were absolutely dumbfounded by how flawlessly he functioned as a dad, so you stood there, smiling in awe at him for a second before remembering your mission. Smiling sheepishly, you pretended to put the ‘nose’ in your back pocket, then took off after Cam.

Roger’s laughter echoed through the den as he jogged after you two, and you found Cam peeking out of the closet in the hallway, waiting for you to come in. When you did, she pulled the door shut with a little struggle, and then shushed you quickly as you two crouched in the semi-darkness. “Daddy will never find us in here.”

“Good thinking,” you whispered, watching Roger’s shadows shift by under the door as he called out your names. You feigned handing her the nose, which she accepted with both of her hands. “Where should we hide his nose?”

“Let’s run and hide it in the backyard on the count of three,” she whispered back, listening as Roger’s voice got farther away. “One, two.. three!”

You threw open the door and she ran out immediately, her long, thin blonde hair flying out behind her as she came face to face with Roger, who was hiding just around the corner. He picked her up quickly, tickling her and eliciting shrieks and giggles that made break out into laughter.

“Where’s it at? I’ll tickle you until you tell me!” he laughed, moving her to his side and attacking her tummy with relentless tickles as she squirmed and writhed with laughter.

“Y/N has it!” she gasped out between laughs, and your jaw dropped as you realized she was even more clever than you’d anticipated.

Letting Cam down gently to the floor, Roger watched as she took off again, and you shrugged as he walked over to you and gave you a quick kiss on the forehead. “Good morning, love. Have you had breakfast yet?” His arms snaked around your waist, and he glanced behind him to make sure Cam wasn’t in sight before he stole another kiss, this one on the lips and far more eager than the last.

Pulling away before he got too into it, you smiled fondly and rested your hands on his chest, nodding. “I grabbed something on the way here, had to calm my nerves.”

“Nerves? Over her?” he gently teased, squeezing your waist and making you roll your eyes playfully. “Isn’t she a little spitfire? I’ve been chasing her all morning. Can’t wait for her to pass out in a few hours.”

“She is, she is,” you agreed, kissing him one last time before reaching behind you to take his hands and unwrap them from around you. He pouted a bit, but didn’t have time to complain, for Cam came back around the corner with a new game already in mind.

You spent the rest of the morning entertaining her and all her wild ideas. When she finally got sleepy just after lunch, Roger was more than happy to tuck her in for a nap. He quickly roped you into a cuddle session on the large recliner in his living room as soon as she was out, and you found yourself wrapped up in his toned, slim arms, your legs weaved together as you both talked about your first impressions.

“She’s so smart, like unbelievably clever.” Roger yawned a bit, stretching before wrapping his arms back around you and grinning, his eyes heavy with exhaustion.

He looked adorably sleepy, and his eyelids fluttered closed as he mumbled, “Don’t know where in the hell she got that from, because her mother’s no genius.”

“Roger, be nice!” you scolded quietly, Roger snickering to himself as he pulled you closer and buried his face in your neck. “She’s a brainiac, just like her dad.” Roger smiled against your neck, but only made a sleepy noise of contentment in response. Admittedly, you were getting a bit tired too, and cuddly Roger wasn’t helping as you felt yourself being lulled off to sleep quickly. “What if she wakes up while we’re still asleep?” you murmured, closing your eyes as you cuddled closer, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Trust me, she’ll get us up,” he muttered, and you wondered what in the hell that was supposed to mean before you quickly drifted off to sleep, content and warm in Roger’s embrace.

You found out what that meant. You were quickly jolted out of your sleep not even an hour later as Camellia pounced on the both of you, garnering a quick yelp from you and a groan from Roger as you both stirred and blinked sleepily. “Naptime’s over, let’s play house!”

This day quickly became a routine in the months that post-production of Queen’s album neared its close. When work would allow it, you’d find yourself over at his place, spending the day with him and Cam. She quickly grew attached to you, and Roger always told you how she lamented over your absence whenever you couldn’t make it. In fact, she had gotten so used to you being around that she’d accidentally let the M word slip one day, closer to Roger’s time to leave for tour.

“Daddy, no boys allowed!” Cam sassed, trying to shut the door to her bedroom as Roger peeked in at the two of you playing with her dolls. You were cross-legged near her dollhouse, and you raised an eyebrow before sticking your tongue out at Roger playfully. That got a laugh out of him, and he fought back to keep the door open just enough for his head to poke through as he begged Cam to let him in.

“Go away, boys have cooties!” you teased, and Roger shot you a devilish look as you grinned innocently and waved at him.

“Yeah, leave mum and I alone!” Cam added, and that brought you to a full stop as Roger’s face quickly softened. He looked at you with an apologetic look, but you felt a slow smile creep onto your face. If she thought of you as that important of a person in her life, you were more than okay with that. Sure, you weren’t anywhere near ready to be a mom, but the fact that she trusted and respected you enough to call you mom thrilled you.

Relief washed over his face as he realized you weren’t alarmed, but relief quickly turned to pain as he forgot to fight back against Cam’s incessant pushing on the door. His head was briefly squeezed between the door and the doorframe, and you couldn’t help but laugh as Cam giggled evilly at the look on his face.

Giving you a quick glance, he pouted, but there was an almost imperceptible smile hinting at the corner of his lips as he retreated. You watched fondly as he waved at Cam, who was peeking at him through the doorway, and she waved back before quickly shutting the door and starting to walk back over to you.

“Pysch!” Roger yelled not even five seconds later, opening the door and forcing his way into the room as Cam whirled around and immediately jumped on him. You laughed as he pretended to fall to the floor from her attack, letting her quickly take over the wrestling match.

Crawling over to where they were, you watched curiously as Roger whispered something in Cam’s ear. What were they planning, the little shits? You received a trademark devilish grin from the both of them suddenly, and you had no time to react before you were quickly overwhelmed, Cam shouting in glee as she tickled you and Roger held your hands above your head. “Get ‘er, Cammy! Don’t stop till she’s cryin’ for mercy!”

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[wallbrat]

Felicia

I Intro I read a lot. I research. I pay attention to the news. I do a lot of fact checking. I have 10 to 15 news sources and the news I pay attention to is domestic and international. I spend hours fact checking because people lie. I also make mistakes. If you can prove to me, logically, that I’m wrong, I’ll admit it, apologize and write a retraction. Keep all of this in mind as you continue. II History I’m a student of history. My favorite periods are Ancient and Medieval, however, I’ll read about any period. I spent a few years digging into WWII because my Grandfathers served then. For the last few months I’ve been focused on WWI and the Spanish Flu. The H1N1 virus got it’s nickname not because of where it originated. Spain was neutral and wasn’t under media censorship like the countries fighting the war. Anything detracting from the war effort was not allowed so the news you saw then was not impartial. Spain, however, reported on a disease that was killing people. While H1N1 impacted us in 1918 and 1919, there were reports of it back in 1915. Yes, our government knew about it and restricted the information because of the war effort. The H1N1 virus hit America in three waves, the second wave being the worst. A deadlier strain of H1N1 surfaced and was spread by the massive troop movements of the war. It’s been said that the dropping of the quarantine restrictions are what caused the second wave and that’s incorrect. While it was a small factor, the troop movements are what spread the new strain. The cramped conditions and the malnutrition among the soldiers hastened the spread. It’s estimated that 500 million people died from H1N1. While that doesn’t sound devastating today, in 1918 that was about one third of the world population. The transmission vectors for H1N1 and Covid-19 are similar and a century of time doesn’t tend to change that. While we lack the troop movements and the conditions of WWII, we more than make up for that with our transportation technology. If that technology had been present in 1918, the death toll would have been much higher. We’ve been extremely lucky so far, yet stupidity is attempting to alter that. III Rampant Stupidity Why do we refuse to learn from the mistakes of the past? We have people protesting, with loaded guns, because they want a hair cut. Instead of throwing these morons in jail, they are allowed to continue in their stupidity. I have a few questions for these paragons of questionable intelligence. Where did you get your medical degrees? What? You don’t have medical degrees? OK. Then your Google Fu must be strong. What? You didn’t use Google? Where are you getting your information then? Ahh, I see. It all becomes clear to me now. This is not about politics and it never has been. These shining examples of American arrogance are simply angry because they’re being told what to do. They think they know more than the experts and they rage against any kind of restriction. Instead of doing what they need to do to protect their families and themselves, they prove their stupidity by endangering everyone around them. If people are still wondering why I view humanity as a failed experiment, this is a perfect example. IV The CDC I'm not a doctor and I don't play one on TV. They have advanced degrees that qualify them to advise us on disease, contrary to what some might choose to believe. Science is fact. Disbelief of science does not invalidate it. In the middle of a pandemic, these are the people I'm going to listen to. Our politicians have no more training in this than I do and out President is less than worthless. To the idiots protesting: No. Your Google Fu is not strong. You're not a scientist or a doctor of anything. If you won't protect others by doing what you're told then stay away from me an mine. I'm 54 years old with a stressed immune system. I follow what's been laid down because I refuse to put you at risk. I could be asymptomatic, meaning I could have the virus and have no symptoms. Having no symptoms does not entitle me to disregard the advice of the experts. Your Pastor or Priest is no more an expert than you are. Some churches ignored the restrictions and what happened to them? Many got sick and others died that may not have if they had done what they were told. V Trumpus Defectus To be clear, our president is neither insane or damaged. He simply doesn't care about you. As long as you vote for him, you could die immediately after casting that vote. He's a billionaire and you're not therefore you're beneath his notice. You don't care about the feelings of a bug when you step on it and that's all you are to him. He's been trained that way since birth. Most of the other billionaires are just like him, he's simply in the public spotlight. Most of the older politicians are no better than he is. They've been bought and paid for decades ago. The sooner we realize that we're nothing more than voting numbers to them, the sooner we can actually make our votes mean something. VI The Economy Money is nothing but ones and zeros in a computer. The dollar is worth what those computers say it is. The economy should have been shut down completely, No money, no revenue, no bills yet everything continues. We could have stayed home, ordered what we needed until this virus burns itself out. Afterwards we could have restarted things, there would have been no penalties and everyone would have been fine. If we had done that it would have restructured the economy, which is exactly why it wasn't done. Another option would have been to turn all of the billionaires into millionaires. Take everything that the filthy rich have, above $500 million, and use it to pay the American people to stay home. We don't need billionaires or the class distinctions they create. It's obvious why this wasn't done. VII Mental Restructuring Since I can't give our country the mental ass kicking it so desperately needs I have to focus inwards. While I'd like to say that this is by choice, it was forced by recent events. Few things are more painful than discovering, or feeling, that you're insignificant in the scheme of things. During a pandemic, our focus should, understandably, on our families and ourselves. Survival is paramount. Understanding that, with the exception of two people, I've done all of the reaching out to make sure that people are OK. These are the same two people that poke ate me if I've been quiet for too long so I wasn't surprised that they reached out first. I'm not a needy, whiny bastard. I'm fairly self-sufficient, I can order what I need and I'm a fairly good cook. Pumpkin, Onyx and I are fine alone, especially since I'm not a big fan of humanity in general. I love certain people but humanity, as a whole, is a lost cause. I didn't reach out for personal connection. I did it see how my friends were doing mentally. The Covid-19 situation has been tough on everyone, especially those of us with mental illnesses. I'm 54 years old with ADHD, Anxiety, Depression and three hernias requiring surgery, which explains the stressed immune system. If it wasn't for the fact that my meds had been increased a month or two before this happened, this situation would have broken me. Two people checking up on me would not have been enough to stop me from imploding. I would have been reduced to a gibbering mess because of the stress or I'd be dead. I'm fine because I noticed a couple of things about five months ago and I consulted my doctor about it. Most people in this situation aren't as lucky as I am, which is why I reach out. Having only two people that bothered to make sure I was OK was eye opening. I'm forced to reevaluate why certain people are in my life and who remains. VIII Bye, Felicia This has honestly been coming for a long time. There are people that only contact me when they want something, usually money. There are others that don't do anything. It's past time to do some pruning. I don't like giving up on people which is why I've avoided this for so long. There are some that are immune to this. My three adoptive sisters in my local area and the ones I love who are out of state. CA, WA, CO, UT, WI, WY, LA, TN, TX, GA, NJ, NY, NH and MD. Wow. Apparently I love more people than I thought I did. They know who they are. If not then they aren't paying attention. If I contact you or interact with you, in any fashion other than work, then I probably love you. Toxic people are leaving as I can't afford to keep them around. Stupidity is also making an exit. Stupidity is Willful Ignorance so why would I want them around to begin with? I have a perfect example of both. There's a post circulating on Facecrack. This one states that the plight of the jews in the Nazi concentration camps is comparable to the Covid-19 quarantine. An old friend shared that on my timeline. If he had been anyone else, I would have deleted and blocked him without hesitation. The only reason he remains is that I've known him for 38 years. I'm waiting to see what he does next. Student of history, remember? I studied WWII in depth so that means that I know more about the concentration camps than most people. The jews were herded there a variety of ways, primarily by train. They were tortured, experimented on, starved, brutalized, a huge number of them were gassed to death and those are actually the high points. It was much worse than I'll ever be able to properly describe and in no way is it even remotely similar to our quarantine. Freedom of speech does not mean freedom from consequence. We're all free to say anything that we want to. We just need to be prepared for the repercussions that arise. If anyone else is stupid enough to share something like that on my timeline, or share it any other place that I can see, they are gone. No questions asked. All anyone needs to do to understand the difference between the two situations is to read a US history book that covers WWII. Posting crap like means that you're choosing to ignore basic evidence. I have no room for anyone like that so Bye, Felicia. IX Best vs Worst This situation can bring out the best or worst in people. You can rise to the occasion or you can sink into depravity. There are plenty of example of both around us. I'm working from home. My bills remain paid. My cats and I are fed and safe. I choose to help where I can. While it's true that I have little faith in humanity, that doesn't mean that I have to circle the drain with the rest of them. I will always try to help those around me. I've been extremely fortunate during this and that should be shared with those that are struggling. This is going to get worse before it gets better. I hope I'm wrong yet there are reports of increases in the infection rate where businesses are being reopened. The last thing we need is a second wave but I'm afraid it may happen. X Dystopia I look around and I have to wonder if we're ever going to grow up as a species. We keep making the same mistakes decade after decade. It's a wonder that we haven't blown ourselves off of the planet. The truth is that this is already a Dystopian society. It's not as bad as the examples we see in movies and on TV yet we are moving towards that. Compared to 20 years ago, we have less privileges now than we did then. We gave them away in exchange for the illusion of safety. We have privileges, not rights. Rights don't exist and are simply an invention to make us feel superior. If it can be taken away, it's a privilege. XI Conclusion While that last part was a little darker than I intended, it is true. I write, primarily, to relieve stress and to clear out my head. It gets pretty cramped in there otherwise. While this won't win me any friends, I may actually post this. My life needs some simplifying anyway. Namaste

[synaps]

I did not see this 5 years ago, though apparently I did

Hi there! So, in the light of the recent Ao no Exorcist chapters and Katou having a solid grasp on her timeline after all, my brain shocked itself enough to produce some serotonin and I decided I’m gonna diverge from my own principles and post this. Brain producing serotonin should be encouraged. Buckle up, everyone bothering to read: this timeline breakdown/fan theory emerged in 2012, when a bored AnE-fan pieced together a few of the plot reveals we’re starting to see now.

Spoiler warning for The End of the Beginning! Though strictly speaking they’re a timeline framework I developed in order to write TEotB, which means they’re gonna drop very soon via the flashback! So it probably isn’t as mind-blowing as it was to me... BUT I DON’T CARE I’ve been waiting 6 years for the content we’re getting right now, 6 years I’ve been on the edge of my seat for this misfit clone dork to finally tell his story and AAAAAH

This is basically a full-body search of the Kyoto arc chapters, 'cause that was the only bit of the past we had back when I started writing. To this day that’s the part of the manga I have the best grasp on. x’D But all those hours paid off, good gods they paid off! This is long. Bear with me, ‘kay? Old-time AnE-fans remember that it was commonly thought the twins were born on Blue Night, much due to the anime: Kyoto Arc said it wasn’t. If you looked carefully, you could figure out that Blue Night was in fact the time of the twins’ conception, not their birth. Though to be absolutely sure, I plotted out the timeline three times and dug up records from a weather station in Kyoto to see if there would have been snow at that time of year in the early to mid 90′s because that’s how goddamn obsessed I am. And if you did figure out that the twins were conceived on Blue Night, you were inevitably sucked into an even more obsessive downward spiral into crazy fan madness because that meant Fujimoto Shiro was sent to steal Kurikara to “kill some kids” before those kids existed even on an embryonic stage.

My original estimate was that the stage had taken 24 years to set up, based on the info in Kyoto Arc, but with Mephisto’s recent director’s cut of how he ghost wrote history that number bumps up to 36 years or potentially even longer.

For reference, the timeline I put together for TEotB plus the fresh dates from the flashback arc: 1977: Mephisto pressures Shiro into promising him a free wish because extorting a kid that’s struggling for his life is an ok move 1984: Satan fails possession for the first time because whoa so many limbs at once 1989: the Myou Dha is struck by disease 1993: Satan figures out how to properly possess someone, that’s Rin’s unrelenting never-give-up attitude right there 1994: after a nine year learning curve on just staying in a body Satan has three PhD’s and ditches school after one year of education - guess possessing a body really is a difficult thing to pull off huh 1995: Shiro unwillingly becoming the caretaker of orphans: part I 1996: not yet confirmed but Saburota’s first meeting with Lucifer/Asylum is probably now Also 1996: Satan returns to Section 13 with a reclamation claim on that crap body they sold him 1996-1997 (somewhere around New Year’s, I estimate): Shiro, who was an Upper First Class exorcist at the time, cures Myou Dha and oh is that a sword in your pocket or are you just happy to return to your boss after a successful mission? 1997 (probably mid-to-late March): Blue Night sucked for everyone, but at least Shiro and Tatsuma got promotions - yay 1997: Shiro unwillingly becoming the caretaker of orphans: part II 2003: when you’re a cursed, massacred and financially broke sect like Myou Dha, there’s few options but to join the Order of the True Cross to stay afloat 2005: Saburota recruits Mamushi to spy by raising suspicions against Mephisto ‘cause really, that ain’t hard 2013: a giant pile of shit appears in Kyoto and unleashes destruction on its surroundings and for once it isn’t Mephisto

The manga and the timeline are pretty self-explanatory so what I wanna stress here is what happened 24 years ago, in 1989, ‘cause that’s something Katou hasn’t touched upon yet and it’s really fun except for those involved. In 1989, a disease starts plaguing Myou Dha and the symptoms are identical to what you get from exposure to the miasma from the Impure King’s Eyes. It seems to be a very local problem, as we don’t hear of any epidemic in the rest of Kyoto. Did the seal on the Right Eye spring a leak? Nope. Because the Eye wasn’t there.

We haven’t seen the shrivelled up bit of IK cause any trouble - not saying it couldn’t, but it seemed like that one hadn’t been active much for the past 150 years and it had been constantly monitored by the High Priest. I cross-referenced with the dates given in the new flashbacks but the outbreak doesn’t coincide with any boost of demonic activity related to Satan’s progress. So? The disease in Kyoto is its own separate disaster, and it’s most likely engineered. Let’s work our way back from the present to see how Mephisto set up this stage~ Mephisto knew of Saburota’s plan to unleash IK, and was all cool with that ‘cause hey, good opportunity to test Rin’s flame, build some team spirit, power up Bon, etc. For that reason he decided to move the Right Eye from his own keep to Myou Dha’s: if Saburota had been able to steal both of them from True Cross he wouldn’t have needed the pit stop at the Kyoto Office. He would have revived IK straight away, and even Mephisto couldn’t have motivated sending a bunch of kids into that chaos. So, move the Eye to a secret strategic location in Kyoto and force Saburota into jumping through a couple of extra hoops to get it. The Eye was moved in 2003 or thereabouts: this coincides with Myou Dha joining the Order, and makes perfect sense. The relic has ties to their sect, and it’s kinda fair to give them something back since Meph indefinitely borrowed their main relic, and now that they’re part of the Order and all - yada yada, smoke screens. Mephisto gave them the relic to set Saburota up, but not until he had the means to also give Saburota a trail to follow. Our fav Uncle Goat approached Mamushi, his student, in 2005 and recruited her to get the Right Eye. He probably thought he was cleverly working around Mephisto’s attempt to prevent theft, but if we think about it: who gave Saburota the opportunity to manipulate her in the first place? It is much easier to get your hands on an impressionable young Myou Dha kid if the Myou Dha kids attend the school where Saburota teaches. But why would they? When their families are very competent exorcists on their own and they’re used to keeping to themselves and...

Keeping to yourself is only an option so long as you can survive by yourself, and from 1989 on Myou Dha couldn’t. But Granpa Suguro, being as stubborn as he is, has refused any modern/outside help for 7 bloody years. This disease is weird for several reasons. Its localised spread, for one; its similarity with the Eye mashou when there is no Eye present; the way it vanishes and is never heard of again after Shiro’s visit; the suspiciously good timing. We now know Mephisto is aware of the future to a certain extent - we saw that confirmed when he set Shiro up with that promise. That was the last doubt removed from my theory about the Kyoto disease, so here we are. Satan hadn’t even manifested with a consciousness yet but Mephisto had his sights on Kurikara and Myou Dha’s cooperation in 1989. He is a man of sophistication, so he takes the “if the mountain won’t come to Muhammad, Muhammad must come to the mountain“ approach: he used the Eyes to orchestrate an outbreak that would force the sect to reach out to True Cross - the biggest, most knowledgeable exorcist organisation around - for aid. Because the alternative would be to smash in there and outright steal the sword and nobody would send their kids to your organisation after that. But it didn‘t work. Granpa Suguro refused to follow script and so the years went by, Satan gained consciousness, grew intelligent, grew bored, oops there goes the Asylum ceiling, jfc Suguro how many more have to die before you just play along like a good boy...? In the end Mephisto had to deploy Plan B: screw it, theft it is. If Muhammad won’t go to the goddamn mountain I’m gonna drop the mountain right on Muhammad’s stubborn head.

Of course this means fucking things up for Shiro, ‘cause that’s just how these things go when you’re running a tight deadline getting the Antichrist(s) a birthday present. Also it’s fun.

This frame says everything, really. xD Come now, how would you expect these people to trust you, and develop a friendly attitude to the Order, if you barge in there on your black-ops mission like a humanoid battleship, grab their relic and ditch the scene? Bad PR, very bad PR. Buuut if you’re injured enough that you can’t make that immediate escape, and you just happen to know how to cure this very specific disease that never flares up again, which you can contract from only 2 items in the world, of which both are owned by the snake-tongued sass ball you are enslaved by work for...? What a fortunate coincidence, what a golden opportunity to create some debt gratitude and-

Nevermind... 

I headcanon that if Granpa Suguro hadn’t died on Blue Night, Mephisto would have set him on fire personally for being such a roadblock to his plans. After Blue Night Myou Dha was decimated, bankrupt, thought by the population to be cursed - what is a poor sect to do? Who could possibly help? Oh wait wasn‘t there some guy a while back, y’know, that exorcist dude who came crashing in and saved the lives of our families and friends? He seemed to know what he was doing, think we could ask him? So the take-away from this is If not for that disease, if not for Mephisto’s misinformation and Shiro’s break-in, Myou Dha would never have joined True Cross. The Right Eye would never have been kept in Kyoto, there had been no Myou Dha kids at the Academy for Saburota to recruit, and the cram school kids would never have been in Kyoto to fight the Impure King. And also that Mephisto is a fabulous bastard and a pure joy to write! ☆

[lewyn-martell]

rules: answer 21 questions and tag 21 people you want to know better

tagged by @laurels-things thanks! you seem like such a nice person!

i. nickname?

lui or simply lu

ii. zodiac sign?

scorpio

iii. height?

165 cm... I'm not sure if I'm below average height on my country, but I believe brazillian people are pretty short. I may be the shortest amongst the boys in my class but I'm the tallest amongst the girls (except one girl who is nearly 180cm i stg) and as a nonbinary person this is a good place to be, i think.

iv. hogwarts house?

hufflepuff :D

v. last thing I googled?

amongst or among — i was unsure if i was using the word correctly sjbshsbshsvs

vi. fav musicians?

THE BEATLES (all 4 of them, but john lennon speaks to my soul in ways i can't describe... the way he makes me feel is something out of this world)

david bowie

elton john

brendon urie from panic! at the disco

the boys from green day

aaand i have mad respect for some soundtrack musicians bc i eat these up constantly. i like ramin djwadi, michael giacchino, ennio morricone, danny elfman, jonny greenwood (yeah i know he's from radiohead but i haven't listened a lot of stuff from this band yet and his phantom thread compositions are SUCH A BOP), hans zimmer and i've been also listening to the score of the shape of water by alexandre desplat (i like him, but jonny greenwood was ROBBED) so maybe that'll be a future fave. also i love a lot of composers for disney animated musicals but if i start i won't ever shut up. but i love almost all of the disney soundtracks.

i would say some time ago whoever wrote the songs for the smiths which i believe includes morrisey, but i recently found out he is extremely right wing and i don't think i can still like someone with these kinds of inhumane views on people&society... i'm disappointed

vii. song stuck in your head?

currently bad boy (the beatles' cover of the song), john's vocals make my pulse speed up since the first verse

viii. following?

2234 nfbdjdbjdsbjshs but i think most of the people i followed years ago are no longer active, i must go through the list and try to do a spring cleaning or something

ix. followers?

408... and like half of these i gained only the last two months or something... and i don't know why shdbsjbshsbs maybe it's the beatles thing

x. do you get asks?

i don't, but that's ok because i don't know if i have a lot of interesting things to say... but if you wanna get something off your chest, go ahead, i love to listen to/read drama 👀

xi. amount of sleep?

tricky question because it constantly changes, sometimes i don't sleep at all bc i have to leave the house at 5h20 in the morning to go to uni and i stay awake until late and when i realize i have to go shower already dhsbshbshsvshs and then when i come back i sleep for like... 10 hours or smth or i don't bc i got stuff to do and i accumulate sleep and then there will be a day of the week i'll just shut down for 15 hours. mostly i try to go to bed around 23h and wake up around 4h45, so that makes it almost 6 hours .

xii. lucky number?

never noticed any particular number that favors me

xiii. what are you wearing?

t-shirt, shorts, it's hot as hell here

xiv. dream job?

don't have one, just want one that won't consume me so i have time to do stuff i'm actually interested in

xv. dream trip?

also don't have one

xvi. instruments?

flute, some percussion, some guitar, i wish i had actually studied music besides the basic stuff... i still wanna learn to properly play something and not just beat some bongos during carnival

xvii. languages?

portuguese, english, bit of spanish only cause of the similarities with portuguese and 4 years of classes in middle school...but still, can't speak or write, only read and listen

xviii. favorite songs?

oh my god... ok...

i was making this in list format but it got way too big... it's still big i'm sorry

the beatles: i want you (she's so heavy), strawberry fields forever, across the universe, oh! darling, and your bird can sing, tomorrow never knows, mother nature's son, yer blues, golden slumbers, i am the walrus, i me mine, long tall sally (little richard cover), you can't do that, what you're doing, ticket to ride, rain, eleanor rigby, happiness is a warm gun, i'm so tired, blue jay way, for you blue, in my life, anna go to him (cover).

david bowie: time, cygnet committee, unwashed and somewhat slightly dazed, tvc15, life on mars, young americans, queen bitch

panic! at the disco: that green gentleman, she had the world, build god then we'll talk, nearly witches, emperor's new clothes, bittersweet, nine in the afternoon, northern downpour, behind the sea, stall me, the piano knows something i don't know

green day: jesus of suburbia, brutal love, hitchin a ride, blood sex and booze, give me novacaine, whatsername, last night on earth

the smiths: this charming man, panic, how soon is now

elton john: goodbye yellow brick road, bennie and the jets, rocket man

queen: somebody to love, killer queen

strawberry swing - coldplay

welcome home - radical face

joão e maria - chico buarque

barbara rose - jonny greenwood

bachianas brasileiras no 5 - heitor villa-lobos

le festin - michael giacchino, camille

rains of castamere - ramin djwadi

unchained melody - a lot of versions from a lot of artists

another day - paul mccartney

meu erro - paralamas do sucesso

flor de lis - djavan

love the way you lie - rihanna&eminem

man! i feel like a woman - shania twain

xix. random fact?

well, it's not really a fact i think... i'm moving (again) but this time is to my father's house because my mum is moving to the south of the country... and i'm so fucking scared because we aren't close at all (i met him when i was 14) i mean, he seems nice enough, all of our interactions have been mostly pleasant but his wife (and probably he himself too) is a bit conservative in the brazillian traditional white family way (she's white cause she's a southern. i know yall think all latinos are poc,,,, but that's not true) but then again, that's something i had to live with all my life so i can handle casual homophobia and racism and sexism... but it will still be so weird cause i never been away from my mum too long (i'm... a momma's boy). i'm going next week i think, wish me luck.... (also he's got two dogs who won't leave me the fuck alone, i get out of the shower and they drool all over me, they know i'm a beta so they keep getting on top of me and since they're HUGE and i'm such a weakling i can't even get them off me and i can't scold them with a strong voice, i just can't do it... i mean, don't get me wrong i like them... but... they like me way too much and keep making me dirty.. i hate being dirty)

xx. aesthetic?

farm aesthetic..... idealistic farm aesthetic habshabaha like marie antoinette's pettit chateau. also the whole pretty odd aesthetic and strawberry swing by coldplay aesthetic

i'm tagging (probably less than 21 ppl) @zutaralesbian @ekscelsior @benstolemyhearty @lannistermartell @tyrionlannysters @avatars-legend @cerseiofhouselannister @falconsredwing @gendryayaya @glittering-snowfall @agirlandabeast @bugband @alittlebigpotato @vairemelde @charmeilon @jawn-lemon @antilennon @im-only-sweeping @ssimsass

i hope tumblr actually notifies you guys, i had problems with the last one...

[the-record-newspaper]

The Killing of Rhonda Hinson: Part II

Rhonda Hinson and Greg McDowell

(Editor’s Note:  The 1980’s was a violent decade for women in Wilkes and surrounding counties.  At least four young women were murdered between 1981and 1987—their cases remain unresolved:  Rhonda Hinson of Burke County — who has relatives in Wilkes County, Angela Hamby of Wilkes, who disappeared in 1982,  Sherry Hart of Ashe County, and Candy Roberson of Wilkes. This series, “The Killing of Rhonda Hinson” is the second in a trilogy of murder cases that will be detailed in The Record over the ensuing weeks and months — cold cases of crimes perpetrated against women over 30-years ago, whose families await justice and closure.)

 By LARRY J. GRIFFIN

Special Investigative Reporter

I’m really sorry and I apologize for pushing you.  I really lost my temper and I’m sorry for being so stupid…I’m sorry I’m so jealous, but I can’t help it….—Excerpted from a letter Greg McDowell wrote to Rhonda Hinson during their Senior Year, 1981.

 By all appearances, Greg McDowell and Rhonda Hinson were an ideal match.

Born on Feb. 7, 1963 to Rev. Charles and Betty McDowell, Gregory Lynn shared several early commonalities with Rhonda Hinson. Both were born on a Thursday.  He, like her, also came from a family with two children whose birth orders were identical — an older girl and a younger boy — the age variance, in each instance, between the two siblings was virtually the same.  Additionally, his parents came to North Carolina from South Carolina just as the Hinsons had done.  Even their names — whether given or full — had exactly the same number of letters.  

Interestingly, the differences between them seemed to work to the mutual advantage of each:  Greg was an accomplished student and a medium athlete; Rhonda was the accomplished athlete and a medium student.  In one of his many missives addressed to her, Greg noted that even their dissimilarities were, in fact, complementary in nature.  “…I may be better in Math, but you are a better typer [sic] than me.  We both do some things good and some things not so good.”

No one knows for certain when Rhonda Hinson started dating Greg McDowell; however, there is agreement that it must have been in the Fall of their junior year. During the budding romance, Greg had a penchant for sending cards to his new girlfriend; in fact, there were at least nine cards forwarded to Rhonda during the 1979-1980 school year that remain in the possession of her parents.  One American Greetings “get-well” card noted an early milestone in their relationship:  

…Thanks for the happiest 4 months of my life and always remember that I love you!!! Greg  

P.S. We have 82 years and 8 months to go!

 And in a Hallmark card with an Emily Dickinson quote embossed in gold on the front plate, the young McDowell references yet another milestone; he penned:

You’ve given me much happiness over the past 25 weeks.  Keep it up forever!  I will always love you!

Love, Greg

Unable to locate a suitable greeting card to mark their first-year anniversary, Greg fabricated his own:  a booklet of thirteen 3x5 index cards befittingly stitched together with a bright red ribbon.  Then he authored an amorous aphorism:  

Rhonda, After all we’ve done together

Through hot and cold and snowy weather,

There’s something that I just must say,

On this, our very Special Day;

Looking back on what we’ve done,

I’d say we’ve had some fun;

But as we watched some things go wrong,

We found it helped our Love grow strong;

So, I know one day we’ll be,

Together, Forever—‘Just You-n-Me!’

I want to say one more thing, Pup-E,

Happy Anniversary!!!

I Love You!!

Greg

Other cards contained Valentine’s greetings, pledges of lifelong love and devotion, lamentations of pain catalyzed by the absence of the object of his affection, and “get-well” sentiments.  All were thoughtful — even sweet — overtures proffered by a young man clearly and happily smitten, laced with as much chivalry as could be mustered in Burke County in the 1980’s.  

And Rhonda seemed to delight in the attention she was incessantly receiving from her new suitor.  Mother Judy Hinson concurs, “I would say that during the first year that they dated, Rhonda was truly happy.”  

During the couple’s 1980-81 senior year, cards were supplanted by missives written in pencil and ink upon notebook paper. Rhonda apparently kept most of them — over 25 letters and three cards, carefully preserved by her parents. Though these contained similar, repetitive declarations of lifelong love and devotion; the letters were less playfully reflective of young love and gradually resonated a darker tone — becoming increasingly more insistent, more demanding, more desperate, with a foreboding edge.  

Predictably, disagreements between the two young people arose periodically, and indications of these commenced to appear within the lines of Greg’s handwritten notes, though somewhat downplayed.  

Oh guess what?  We forgot to straighten out that big argument that we didn’t have on the phone last night! I am right!  Basketball is not numero uno in my life!  So there!  That settles that.  Quickly changing the subject….

Admitting to having a “bad day” at school at some juncture, Greg writes:

…I’m sorry about while ago.  I didn’t mean to be like that.  I’m just so tired.  I’m really sorry.  I know you don’t feel too well either; so, let’s try extra hard to be nice to each other, OK?  Thanks for understanding (if you do)…I’m really sorry I was like that while ago.

PS. Come at 6:00 unless you here [sic] from me.  We’ll get some supper if you want any. I will be hungry.

Almost imperceptible at first, the letters began to assume an austere tone, indicative of more pervasive upheavals.  

Rhonda…I am not eating lunch today; I’m sitting where we were at break today and I’m writing you this letter.  It’s kind of hard to hold back the tears; so, if this paper is wet, you will know why. I just can’t imagine us not being together and when I think of it, I go to pieces.  I want you to know that I love you now and I always will love you. I never want to hurt you and I would never intentionally hurt you.  I’m sorry, very sorry about the things I said…I want you to know that I didn’t mean it. I want us to go on like we were and forget about this.  I love you very much and I don’t want this or anything else to pull us apart.  

I know I make lots of mistakes; but, I try so hard to make you happy….All I ask in return is love and understanding…Please forgive me when I make you mad and try to think about the good things I do for you…I really do love you and I’m sorry I hurt you, really.

 The tenor of Greg’s notes and letters recommends to suspicion that he was becoming increasingly frustrated by Rhonda’s ostensible lack of reciprocity.  He would take the time — even class time when he was bored — throughout the day to write a note to be hurriedly delivered to Rhonda as he passed her in the hallway, while en route to other classes and activities that the two did not share. Periodically, he relied upon the “Mercury” services of a friend to discreetly pass along his impromptu messages, garnering little — if any — response from the girl he loved.  

“Rhonda just wasn’t that type of girl — she wasn’t very demonstrative of feelings,” Judy Hinson recollected.  “In fact, she was very private about them.  She wouldn’t even cry in front of us — and she hardly ever said, ‘I love you.’”

Perhaps Greg failed to understand that predilection or felt that he could somehow motivate Rhonda to become more responsive to him.  It is not surprising that he began to vent his frustration within pointed paragraphs:

…From now on, I’m not going to mention anything about you writing me a note at lunch. It’s up to you, anyway, and I can’t do anything about it.  If you want to write something you will and if you don’t you won’t.  But I’m not saying I don’t care, because I do care and I want you to write but I can’t make you.  So, it’s up to you…From 8:20 – 3:03, I see you every bit of 25 minutes…So, please understand why I want you to write during lunch. Ok?

With each passing day of the senior year, Greg McDowell seemed to grow more insecure about the relationship he had with Rhonda Hinson.  His increased uncertainty triggered a proportional surge of jealousy that commenced to subtly surface.  In one postal script appended to a note he admonishes, “Don’t flirt with the customer’s [sic] at work.”  But during one full-blown jealous conflagration, Greg became physically aggressive for which he later apologized — in a letter, of course:

Dear Rhoda,

I’m sorry and I apologized for pushing you. I really lost my temper and I’m sorry for being so stupid.  Please forgive me. Really, I’m sorry for pushing you. I just lost my temper. Please understand. I love you and you can do anything you want to me to get me back. I deserve it. I’m sorry I’m so jealous, but I can’t help it.  When I read the part about ‘love ya’ and ‘wish I’d gotten to know you a lot sooner’ and ‘see you at work this summer’ and ‘play tennis with you this summer,’ I naturally got upset. I hope you don’t care for him. If you don’t you shouldn’t mind me beating his ass.  

I love you,

Greg

In a series of reflective recollections that Judy Hinson penned on notebook paper, she proffered this observation:  “I think [Rhonda] enjoyed Greg’s being jealous and possessive [at first] but then I think she had gotten tired of his demanding to know everything she did — where she went, who she talked to — everything.”

One of the recurring themes articulated through the letters of Greg McDowell was his desire for Rhonda to return to being her ebullient, insouciant self subsequent to an argument or misunderstanding. Several times he cajoles her to be happy, to smile, and to be glad to see him.  In one of his short missives, Greg reassures Rhonda that he loves her and that it hurts him to see her “sad, upset, or worried.”  Then he appends a poignant postal script:  

“You’d better be happy and smile and be your usual self tonight or I’ll shoot you with my shotgun!”

Rhonda Hinson had approximately12 months to live.

[sorryimbeingapillaboutit]

self-control (part 1) - steve harrington

Steve Harrington x Reader

Warnings: Angst, some light cursing.

Summary: You’re in charge of homecoming but you don’t have a date.

A/N: OK, honestly I’m so proud of this you guys. It was like ten pages on a google docs. I hope you like it. I know a lot of people want a part 2 to twist of fate, and that will most likely happen pretty soon! But I want to do this as a series as well so we’ll see. Anyway, hope you all like it. I love the feedback, by the way, so tell me what you think!

Gif is not mine, belongs to the owner.

The sound of the phone ringing woke you up. Startled, you ran a hand through your hair and looked around before registering where you were. Home. In bed. Things were normal again, right? Wrong. It was two a.m and the phone was ringing. Why did your parents agree to get you your own line? You quickly flicked on your bedside lamp and then picked up the receiver. “Hello?” You mumbled barely coherently, slowly sitting up in bed. “Y/N?” It was Steve. You could tell by the way he pronounced your name. Just slightly different than everyone else did. Like it had more meaning coming from his mouth. You let out a long yawn. “Yeah, Steve. It’s me. What’s going on? Why are you calling me at-“ you glanced over at the clock on your night stand. “Two thirteen in the morning?” “I haven’t been able to sleep at all,” he said, and you could hear the tiredness in his voice, all groggy and deeper than usual. “Let me apologize. Let me make it up to you. I fucked up, okay-“ “Fucked up is putting it lightly,” you cut him off, your words sharp like daggers. “I don’t want to talk to you about it. Especially not now.” Steve sighed on the other line. You could almost picture him running a hand through his hair. You hated that you knew him that well. “Go to sleep, Harrington,” You said, and didn’t wait for a response before hanging up the phone. You tried to go back to sleep but your mind kept drifting back to a few days ago, when everything starting going to shit.

It had started on Monday. You had been sitting at lunch with your two best friends, Jonathan and Nancy. You and Nancy had been really good friends since you moved to Hawkins back in November. When she started going out with Jonathan and you got to know him, the two of you started getting along really well - in a platonic way, of course. It was always the three of you, and though you knew Jonathan and Nancy liked have couple alone time, they also enjoyed hanging out with you. It was nice not being the third wheel even though you totally were the third wheel. “So you’re telling me that you think Cyndi Lauper is better than Joy Division?” Jonathan asked, looking at you in disbelief, and, frankly, disgust. “No, that’s not at all what I’m saying,” you said, sharing a glance with Nancy. “I’m saying that I think kids at the homecoming dance will like Cyndi Lauper better than Joy Division. I personally love Joy Division. But it’s an acquired taste, Jonathan. You have to admit that.” You had all sorts of papers sprawled out on the table in front of you. You were in charge of planning the homecoming dance this year, and the set list was one of the most important aspects. You had to make sure to play stuff everyone would want to dance to. Otherwise they would just leave the dance. And while you loved Jonathan’s taste in music, it was not the same stuff everyone else liked. “I thought you weren’t going to go,” Nancy pointed out. You nodded in agreement. “Well I wasn’t. But I started to maybe consider it if Y/N was going to play Joy Division,” Jonathan defended himself. “One song,” you said, scribbling something down on your list. “And you have to stay until the end.” “Five songs,” Jonathan tried to negotiate. “I have to play what everyone else wants to hear, Jonathan,” you rolled your eyes. “Two songs. Final offer.” Jonathan just rolled his eyes and frustratedly stabbed a green bean through his fork. “Whatever,” he mumbled as he shoved the food in his mouth. Nancy hit him on the shoulder. “Be nice,” she said, and he made a face at her. “And we’re going to the dance. Y/N is putting in a lot of hard work to make it fun. Plus, you look cute all dressed up.” “God, you guys are adorable,” you said sarcastically. “Like really, my heart can’t take it anymore.” Jonathan swallowed and shook his head. “Whatever, Y/N. You’re gonna be in an even mushier relationship someday, and you know what? I’m going to make fun of you when that happens.” In response, you mimed shaking a magic eight ball, and turned it over to see the answer. “Hmm, outlook not so good, Byers.” Nancy snickered. “Why do I always feel like the two of gang up on me?” He asked even though all three of you knew the answer.

The subject of you not having a boyfriend was not addressed again until later that week, on Wednesday. You and Nancy were on your way to biology II, admiring the posters you spent all last night slaving over to advertise for homecoming. “They really do look great,” Nancy said, smiling over at you. You were proud. They did look great. People were paying attention to them. Your hard work was paying off. As you walked into bio, you passed a poster that said Do you have a date yet? “Do you?” Asked Nancy as you set your books on the desk. “Do I what?” You asked, not picking up on it. “Do you have a date yet?” She quoted the sign, sliding down into the desk. You shook your head. “No,“ you said casually, shrugging your shoulders. “I was just going to go by myself.” Nancy looked at you like you were an idiot. “What?” You asked, furrowing your brows. “Unacceptable!” She exclaimed, banging her hand on the desk for emphasis. It was then your turn to look at her like she was an idiot. “It’s perfectly acceptable,” You retorted, opening your textbook to the chapter you were on. “Girls go to dances alone now, it’s fine.” “No, I want you to have a date- hey, what about Steve?” “Steve Harrington?” You said, nearly choking on your own saliva. “As in your ex-boyfriend Steve Harrington?” Nancy scoffed. “We ended on good terms. We’re still friends.” She waved off the detail like it was nothing. You didn’t feel the same way. “I can’t do that. That’s too weird.” You hadn’t actually met Steve before- seeing as you moved to Hawkins just after he and Nancy broke up. You had seen him before, and knew about him, but never held a conversation. He was in the grade above you, and sporty and popular. He wasn’t in your circle and you certainly weren’t in his. Plus, he was your best friend’s ex - talk about weird. And he- “I can see the gears turning in your head, Y/N,” Nancy interrupted your thoughts, and you snapped back into reality. “It’s not like you’re getting married to him. It’s just homecoming.” “How do you even know he needs a date?” You asked, hoping that point would end the conversation. “He told me he wasn’t going because he didn’t have one.” Nancy said, and when you looked at her weird, added. “We’re still friends. We talk every once in a while. What? Is that weird?” “Does Jonathan  know about this?” You asked, hoping to switch subjects. Nancy caught you in the act. “Yes he does, and he’s fine with it. He and Steve are on relatively good terms, too, so stop trying the change the subject. You’re going to the dance. With Steve.” And before you could protest any longer, the bell rang and class began.

You were hoping that Nancy would just forget that whole discussion never happened, but by the time lunch rolled around that same day, it was still the hot topic. “So you’re going to the dance with Steve?” Jonathan asked, a teasing smile on his face. “No, I never agreed to th-“ “Yeah, she is,” Nancy said, cutting you off. She looked at you sternly. “You’re not going to homecoming without a date, Y/N. That’s lame.” “How do you even know he wants to go with me?” You asked, crunching down on a baby carrot in frustration. “I guess I don’t,” Nancy said, biting her lip. She looked around the cafeteria. “But there he is now-“ she pointed, then shouted her next words, “Hey, Steve!” The long-locked king of the basketball court whipped around, raising a brow in Nancy’s direction. He finally spotted Nancy waving him down, and sauntered over to the table, a cheeseburger from the lunch line in one hand. “Hey Nance, Byers.” He greeted each of your friends, then looked at you. “New girl.” “This is Y/N,” Nancy said, nudging your foot under the table. “She started in like November, right?” “Yep. November,” you said, nodding in agreement. “Well, then I wish you a two-month late welcome to Hawkins,” Steve said, smiling at you in a friendly manner. You met his smile, but yours was awkward and forced, not charming and natural like his. He took a bite of his burger. “Thanks,” You said, smiling. He was nice, but you didn’t want to go to homecoming with him. First of all you barely knew him, and secondly, no matter how many times Nancy insisted it was alright, it was still weird to you. Nancy jumped in after a few moments of deafening, painful silence. “So anyway, Y/N needs a date to homecoming. You said you needed one too, right Steve?” You gave Steve pleading eyes, as if you were begging him not to go along with this. You had accepted the fact that Nancy had weaseled her way into the situation and there was nothing you could do to stop it. But maybe there was something Steve could do.

Steve didn’t catch on to your hints. “Yeah, I do need one.” He looked from Nancy to you. “Did you want to go with me? Just as friends, of course.”

“Yeah, as friends,” Nancy added.

Jonathan, Nancy, and Steve all stared at you and you definitely felt the peer pressure. After a sharp inhale, you smiled unwillingly at Nancy. “Fine.” You looked back up at Steve, who was mid-burger right then. “Sure. Yes. I will go with you. As friends.”

So the plan was made. The homecoming game was Friday night, and the dance was Saturday night in the gym. While most girls in Hawkins would be spending Saturday getting their hair done, doing their nails, and last minute touch ups on their dresses, you would be helping decorate the gym and coordinating everyone else who was helping out. The dance started at seven, and you planned on being done decorating at five, which gave you a solid hour to get ready before dinner with Steve, Nancy, and Jonathan at six. Steve was going to pick you up and take you home. Talk about stressful.

While you were kind of irritated with Nancy, you also felt rather grateful towards her. She found you a date for homecoming, and she had been right. Girls who went alone were lame.

You spent all Saturday stressing out about streamers and balloons, and then sped home to get ready for the dance. The boys’ basketball team had won the game the night before, thanks to Steve, the team captain. You had gone to the game with Nancy (Jonathan had stayed home because he was a loser), and you remembered watching Steve running down the court. Once or twice, you could have sworn he looked right at you after making a basket. Why did your heart race when that happened?

Anyway, after decorating Saturday morning and afternoon, you went home and got ready, curling your hair as fast as you possibly could and rushing through your makeup routine. You had this gorgeous dark blue dress with black polka dots on the bottom hem and shoulder pads, you felt so cool with it on. So you wore that and some cute shoes. Seeing as it was January and freezing outside, you also slid on a coat.

Steve pulled up to your house at six on the dot, and rang the doorbell. You ran past your dad, who insisted on answering, and cut in front of him to open the door. “Hi,” You said, slightly out of breath. Steve looked really nice. Sport coat, dress pants. Your heart was racing again and you begged it to stop.

He opened the car door for you and brought you flowers, and was a total gentleman during dinner. It was so strange. From what you knew of Steve, he was a good guy, but Nancy must have been leaving out some kind of detail. Though she claimed she only broke up with him because she loved Jonathan more, you knew there had to be something wrong with him. So you were  cautious and you looked for it. So far, nothing.

“So you were working on the decorations pretty much all day, huh?” Steve asked. You were in the car with him now, driving from the steakhouse to the school.

You nodded, fiddling with your wrist corsage. “Yeah, it was a miracle we got done before five. But it looks really good, I think. I’m excited to see it in full effect.” “You like stuff like that? Planning events and organizing and decorating?” He asked, turning the radio down to a low hum so that the two of you could talk.

“Yeah,” you said, smiling at the thought. “Yeah, I do. I’m not a hundred percent sure yet, but I think I want to be a party planner or an event coordinator when I graduate. Could be fun.” You were both quiet for a beat. “What do you want to do?”

“After I graduate?”

“Yeah, you’re a senior, right? Do you have any ideas?”

Steve was silent. You looked up at him and saw he was shaking his head. “No, I really don’t. To tell you the truth, I’m kind of freaking out about it, too, because I… I have to figure something out, like, now, right?”

You could tell it was a touchy subject. “Well, it wouldn’t hurt,” You offered him a playful smile. “But you’ve still got some time.”

“We graduate in June.”

“Yeah, but you could take a year off. Do some travelling, self-discovery. Figure out who you are and what you want. No one is saying you have to know right away.”

“My dad is,” Steve said, turning into the school parking lot. “He wants me to have a plan, to know exactly what I want to do and where I want to go to college and where I want to live and who I want to marry and where I want my dead body buried. He’s nuts.”

You frowned slightly, and noticed that he was getting worked up over it. He put the car in park, and you placed your hand on his on the center console. Sparks shot through your veins, and you turned your head to look into his eyes. They were this deep, endless brown. Like a forest you could get lost in forever. You couldn’t help yourself. You wanted to get lost forever.

“Y/N…” Steve’s voice was low and unsure, and you could feel it. You felt the same way- unsure. But at the same time…

It felt so right.

“Steve…” Your voice paralleled his, and you felt his breath on your skin. Goosebumps. You leaned in slightly, knowing what was about to happen, and letting it.

His lips touched yours for half a second before there was a loud BANG on the windshield. Instinctively, you pulled away, looking through the glass to see Tommy H, supposedly one of Steve’s friends, laughing at the two of you’s startled expressions. Like, cackling. Ridiculously.

Your face turned bright red, and you all of a sudden felt really embarrassed and uncomfortable. So you took in a sharp breath, and opened the car door despite Steve’s protests. “Jesus Christ, Steve. If you’re gonna put the moves on a girl you should do it somewhere more private!” Tommy was shouting as you got out of the car. You felt red-hot humiliation light up your face, and turned on your heel to go inside.

“Tommy, why are you such an asshole?” You heard Steve say, but you didn’t turn back. You heard the car door shut and footsteps running towards you.

Steve had caught up with you. “Y/N, I’m sorry, okay? He’s just an idiot, and I-I didn’t mean for-”

“I know,” you stopped walking, turning to face him in the freezing cold. You’d left your coat in his car. “I know you didn’t mean to. It’s fine, okay? I’m just embarrassed, and I’m freezing, and I want to go inside, okay?” Your voice was shaky and on the verge of tears. You couldn’t believe Tommy had seen the two of you, and your almost moment. He was going to tell everyone about it, wasn’t he? God.

“Okay, yeah. Let’s go in.”

The gym looked amazing. You were so proud of all your hard work. The theme was Starry Night, so there were silver streamers and balloons all over the place. The art club had worked on a really pretty backdrop for the pictures, and it all just looked so good. Everyone seemed to already be dancing, and you could help but feel happy, despite all that drama in the parking lot, that people were having a good time.

“Wow, Y/N, this looks incredible,” You heard Steve say as you walked in. He placed a hand on the small of your back, and you let him.

“Thank you,” You felt the mood change, and you were grateful for it. Steve was really sweet, and you wanted to enjoy this night with him and your friends. This whole night was your baby- you’d organized and coordinated the whole thing and you really wanted people to enjoy it.

You spent the next hour or so dancing with him and Nancy, dragging Jonathan in as well. It was fun, and for once in your life you started to feel accepted, like you belonged there, on that technicolor dance floor with these people. Your friends. You were actually a part of this little group, and you liked it. For a moment, you even imagined what it would be like to be with Steve. It made you feel all warm and happy.

A slow song came on, and Steve asked you to dance. You nodded, and his hands found your hips. Your two bodies melted into one, swaying in time to the music. You were breathing the same air as him and you had no complaints. You closed your eyes and took it all in. Nothing could ruin this. Nothing at all.

“Looks like good ol’ King Steve found himself a new whore.”

Well, maybe that could.

You opened your eyes to see Tommy H and his girlfriend, Carol, pointing at the two of you and laughing. Your face got bright red and you took a step away from Steve, frowning.

“Hey, shut up, Tommy. Why can’t you just stay out of it?” Steve retorted, his face growing hard and stern.

“We just wanted to see you and the New Nancy,” Carol chimed in, and Tommy laughed. It was clear they were buzzed.

People were starting the stare, and you felt a lump start to grow in your throat.

“Just go away, before I have to do something we’ll both regret.” Steve threatened.

You jumped in, stretching an arm to block him from doing God knows what. “Steve, it’s fine-“

“No, it’s not fine,” Steve interrupted, looking down at you then back at Tommy. “He’s an asshole and he needs to learn his lesson.”

By this point everyone on the dance floor was staring, watching with anticipation.

“What are you gonna do ‘bout it, Harrington? You’re too big of a pussy to defend your new little slut.” Tommy taunted. “Hell, I-“

That was when Steve launched himself at Tommy, tackling him to the ground and throwing a hard punch. The crowd gasped, and all of a sudden kids started cheering “Fight! Fight!”

Tommy and Steve rolled around on the ground, each throwing punches and kicks and shouting at each other, and you stood there, heart racing. What were you supposed to do? You didn’t ask Steve to defend you- you weren’t his girlfriend.

They rolled around and eventually ran into the snack table, knocking the whole thing over. Punch and cake slices and chips flew everywhere, and some kids even cheered. The snack table collided with a cardboard pole holding up a bunch of streamers, and soon all your pretty stars began raining down, until your Starry Night turned into a meteor shower.

Two teachers eventually broke the fight up, and dragged both Steve and Tommy away to be lectured or punished or whatever.

“Oh, my god,” you muttered, watching all your hard work crumble around you. You were filled with absolute rage. Your eyes filled with red-hot tears, stinging as they ran down your face.

Nancy and Jonathan found you in all the chaos, and dragged you out of there before you screamed at someone. You were outside, walking with them towards Jonathan’s car, silently crying.

“Where’s your coat?” Nancy asked, an arm around you comfortingly.

“Steve’s car,” you managed to sniffle out, running a hand over your face. You were shivering, so Jonathan took his off and gave it to you. Thank god you had your friends, because you probably wouldn’t have been able to make it home.

Jonathan and Nancy drove you home and you sat in bed, still in your dress, staring at the wall and replaying all the events of the evening. You and Steve almost kissed. You and Steve dancing and holding hands, and he was so sweet until he ruined everything. You’d never asked him to defend you, never asked him for anything. He was trouble and you knew it the whole time. Why couldn’t you have just listened to your instincts? Because now here you were, sobbing and screaming into a pillow because you couldn’t decide if you were angry or heartbroken

It was six a.m. You had only slept a little. Forgiving Steve was on your mind, but you couldn’t decide if you wanted to forgive him or if you just wanted to go back to the car, and kiss him for real.

You threw on some tennis shoes, sweatpants and a hoodie, and snuck out the back door. You needed to do something- laying in bed crying about it wasn’t helping a damn thing. So you jogged down the street and when that didn’t help, you kept going. Your hair was still curled and your makeup all smudged - you looked like a melted clown - but you didn’t care. You just needed to think.

So you ran, and you kept running. Most people were in church or at an early breakfast or even still asleep, and you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You just kept running.

Finally, you stopped to catch your breath, in front of some random house. You took in the scenery for a moment, and realized you recognized the car in the driveway. Steve’s. And for a moment you thought maybe you were supposed to end up here.

But you shook the stupid thought away and you kept running.

[douchebagbrainwaves]

HOW TO YAHOO

Work and life just get mixed together. They happen rarely till industrial times there were just speech, writing, and printing, but when they do, they do badly. 16804294 what 0. The intervening years have created a situation that is, as far as I know, without precedent: Apple is popular at the low end and the high end, but not powerful.1 And when the Mac appeared, it was like coming home. I felt like an immigrant from Eastern Europe arriving in America in 1900. And the days when VCs could wash angels out of the cap table are long gone.2 What you really want is to increase volume. Some are fit only for entry level jobs, but others are ready to rule the world if they can make money. Why should we care especially about civil liberties?3

Google has over 82 million unique users a month and annual revenues of about three billion dollars. The Achilles heel of successful companies is their inability to cannibalize themselves. I think one of the biggest startups almost didn't happen that there must be a valid one. This little thought experiment suggests a few of the disadvantages of insider projects: the selection of the wrong kind of people, I like to work with other good programmers. I sat down and calculated what I thought the price should be. What makes a good startup founder so dangerous is his willingness to endure infinite schleps. A position on the corporate ladder had a value analogous to the goodwill that is a very real element in the valuation of companies. Hard as this was to believe in the mid 20th century is not because they love finance but because they want to work on something interesting with people I like. I order something from an online store, and they know how much jobs suck. Microsoft, or even Google. And the first planes, and the handful of people who wish they'd gotten a regular job, and a startup that succeeds, it's going to consume at least three or four years. So one widely used trick, especially among illustrators, is to intentionally make a painting or drawing look like it had syntax.

Startups succeed by creating wealth. So all other things being equal, a painting with faces in it will interest people more than one without. It's the same with work. All three vertices now seem pretty dated. Any given person is dumber as a member of an audience is to give them what they need.4 If you start the kind of programmers companies should want to hire. But there is a deeper reason that hackers are alarmed by measures like copyrights and patents. There are two senses of the word troll.

You can see how great a hold taste is subjective and wanted to kill it once and for all.5 Why do great ideas come from the margin is simply that there's so much of a problem with options, it's that they reward slightly the wrong thing. As everyone knows, America plus tragedy equals the Civil War was about slavery; people would be confused otherwise; plus you can show a lot of bandwidth.6 Sure, you'll probably end up working at Microsoft, or even Google.7 Before Durer tried making engravings, no one took them very seriously. This was my reason for not starting a startup and you fall asleep in the middle of the range.8 And when you do, that core will be big, because it will be accepted even if its spam probability is above the threshold. But all art has to work on anything, and that's actually very valuable information.9 That was all it took to make the headers look innocent, but my guess is that it would be: just try hacking something together. Everyone was so cheerful and healthy and rich. It's harder to escape the influence of your own circumstances, but you can at least approach that by getting rid of the sources of error in your own life, and those that you decide, from afar, are going to want computers in their houses? Outsiders are not merely free but compelled to make things, like programmers and writers.10

That's what a lot of people who aren't.11 I'm told there are people getting rich by tricking consumers or lobbying the government for anti-competitive regulations or tax loopholes, then let's stop them.12 Hacking something together means deciding what to study in college. If startups become a cheap commodity, more people will be doing with computers in ten years, I think the cost of failure to increase the number of things you can just hack together keeps increasing. I'm surprised people still worry about this.13 Maybe this would have been better off; not only wouldn't these guys have broken anything, they'd have made less. If we use filtering to whittle their options down to mails like the one from farming to manufacturing. And it does seem to influence people when they can see their reputation in the eyes of their peers drain away after making an asshole remark. That phrase draws in most threads I've mentioned here.14 Within the US, without an undergraduate degree—but tests like this will matter less and less. I was in college the rule seemed to be synonymous with quiet, so I didn't do it. When Mark spoke at a YC dinner this winter he said he wasn't trying to start a startup.15

So a language that makes source code ugly is maddening to an exacting programmer, as clay full of lumps would be to try it. One of the most egregious spam indicators. Over time the two inevitably meet, but not ready yet for real work.16 So was the Apple I and Apple II in his apartment or his cube at HP. Fortunately, if startups get cheap to start, this conflict goes away, because founders can start them younger, when it's rational to take more risk, and can start more startups total in their careers. But as long as you made a graph of GNP per capita vs.17 There are two bad smelling words, color spammers love colored fonts and California which occurs in testimonials and also in menus in forms, but they weren't going to die if they didn't get their money.

He was a precise sort of guy, so he'd measured their productivity before and after. That phrase draws in most threads I've mentioned here. I used to be an obelisk will become a pyramid. 01 describe 0. First Round Capital found that among its portfolio companies, do startups with female founders outperformed those without by 63%. And lately hackers have sensed a change in the last ten years the Internet has the most effect.18 So about half the founders from that first summer, less than two years ago, are now rich, at least in your lifetime. But I don't know anything about business to start a startup is a lot of data about how they work. In a zero-sum, there are no external checks at all. Often users have second thoughts and delete such comments. Now, thanks to the Internet, SMTP email, HTTP the web, Google at year 1 is the limit of what they'd have produced.19 So if you're an outsider you should actively seek out contrarian projects.

Startups are perforce small, because they only get paid if they build the winner. But that's ok, because the Internet dissolves the two cornerstones of broadcast media: synchronicity and locality.20 For a while it annoyed me to hear myself described as some kind of answer.21 Boy was he good. But this is so important to hackers, they're especially sensitive to it. It was a place people went in search of something new. When a new medium arises that's powerful enough to win, and the first thing they learn is that the Internet is the primary medium. Some decided only hours before the deadline. In fact, it wasn't initially a startup idea.22 Eleven people manage to work together as if they were a rooted in your town and/or b so successful that VCs would fund them even if they had to move back to Canada and live in their parents' basements. You're not all playing a zero-sum game. I think he really wishes he'd listened.

Notes

Users may love you but these supposedly local seed firms. I call it ambient thought.

The ordering system was small. They also generally say they prefer great markets to great people.

The biggest exits are the numbers like the United States, have been lured into this sort of love is as blind as the investment community will tend to be on demand, and this was the least correlation between the Daddy Model that it would take up, but not in 1950 something one could reasonably be with children, we're probably fooling ourselves. Most people should not always tell this to users, however, is caring what random people thought of them, but its inspiration; the creation of wealth, not the sense that if they could then tell themselves that they violate current startup fashions. You're not one of the next three years, it will seem like I overstated the case, companies' market caps do eventually become a manager.

Some find they have to be on fewer boards at once is to the average Edwardian might well guess wrong.

And of course, but this advantage isn't as obvious because it looks great when a wolf appears, is this someone you want to measure that turns out to coincide with mathematicians' judgements. We think of ourselves as investors, even if the fix is at fault, since 95% of the magazine they'd accepted it for had disappeared.

Even college textbooks is unpleasant work, but different cultures react differently when things are from an interview, I'd appreciate hearing from you. Now we don't want to sell, or an electric power grid than without, real estate development, you now get to go deeper into the shape that matters here but the idea.

I have a competent startup lawyer handle the deal. Html.

Some of the things Julian gave us. Because the title associate has gotten a bad idea has been rewritten to suit present fashions, I'm guessing the next investor. The key to wasting time is distraction.

It is a qualitative difference in investors' attitudes.

But it could change what you're working on such an idea where there is some weakness in your classes as a high school football game that will sign up quickest and those are the only cause of poverty. He was off by only about 2%. Com.

I would be worth trying to meet people; I was there when it was worth about 30 billion. Of the remaining outcomes don't have enough equity left to motivate people by saying Real artists ship. 01. Beware too of the world, and the editor written in C and C, the most powerful men in Congress, Sam Altman wrote: My feeling with the same town, unless it was the fall of 2008 but no more unlikely than it was overvalued till you run through all the difference between us and the exercise of stock the VCs want it to be a startup in a in the field.

A preliminary result, comparisons of programming languages either take the hit.

In the beginning. It was revoltingly familiar to slip back into it. From?

Don't be fooled by the government to take math classes intended for math majors. No, but I think that's because delicious/popular. I remember about the right direction to be careful about security.

I don't think these are the only result is higher prices. But should you even be symbiotic, because you spent all your time working on is a fine sentence, though it's at least what they too were feeling in 1914 on the East Coast. If Xerox had used what they said.

That's one of the river among the largest of their name, but viewed from the late 1970s the movie Dawn of the corpora. Starting a company they'd pay a lot like intellectual bullshit. Josh Wilson came in to pick your brains.

001 negative effect on returns, like angel investors in startups. One year at Startup School David Heinemeier Hansson encouraged programmers who wanted to make Europe more entrepreneurial and more pervasive though.

The trustafarians' ancestors didn't get rich by buying their own itinerary through no-shop clause. I would take their customers.

If a company with benevolent aims is currently undervalued, because unions will exert political pressure to protect their hosts. Proceedings of AAAI-98 Workshop on Learning for Text Categorization. Because it was the reason it used a recent Business Week, 31 Jan 2005. It wouldn't cut their overall returns tenfold, because sometimes artists unconsciously use tricks by imitating art that would have.

The attitude of the things you're taught.

But it could change what you're doing.

Proceedings of AAAI-98 Workshop on Learning for Text Categorization. Structurally the idea upon have different needs from the DMV. I said that a shift in power to founders would actually increase the spammers' cost to reach a given audience by a central authority according to certain somewhat depressing rules many of which you ultimately need if you threatened a company with benevolent aims is currently undervalued, because any VC would think twice before crossing him. A few VCs have an edge over Silicon Valley.

[daysswithyou]

Never losing you - Part II

Gif credit: jaechicken

Author’s note: Part II is right down below, hope you enjoy! :) 

part i 

II.

For a moment, you were simply too shocked to say anything as a dull ache came from deep within your chest, causing you to take shallow, shaky breaths as you shuddered despite the warmth that enveloped you.

When he’d left, you thought that was the end.

When he’d left, you thought you’ll never have to see him again.

When he’d left, you tried to move on.

And you did.

So why was life so cruel now, playing tricks with your heart 10 years later? He had not crossed your mind once since 10 years ago but seeing his photo again, sparked off thousands of memories within you.

As they say, you’d never ever forget your first love and he was the first for many things for you.

-

He was your first crush.

The first time you met him, it was during Physical Education lessons in your final year of high school. You were running tracks around the field when your eyes narrowed upon him. His lanky figure made him stand out amongst the jocks and his Mohawk hairstyle made him seem another head taller than the rest.

As if he wasn’t already tall enough.

But what really drew you in was his smile. When the sun rays shone on his face and he broke out into a huge grin that showed off his neat rows of pearly whites, you found yourself inexplicably drawn to this beautiful man.

From that day on, you kept a silent eye on him till graduation.

Always there, but never having enough guts to speak to him.

Needless to say, you graduated without saying anything to him for the entire year and you figured that was the end of your little crush, a little secret that you’ll carry with you to your grave.

Little did you know that every time you turned away, someone would be watching you like a guardian angel.

-

He was your first date.

Moving to a college rather far from home to pursue your passion, you never expected to see anyone from your old high school there. So when you spotted the familiar Mohawk hairstyle, lanky figure with tortoise shell glasses, to say you were stunned would be an understatement. Through the crowd of a thousand people, you both somehow miraculously made eye contact and he flashed you the same toothy grin that you loved so much whilst nodding his head a little in your direction. Against your wishes, your cheeks felt extremely hot that entire day.

Having a secret passion in music, you took up a degree in events management and you enjoyed your classes and life went on pretty normally for you. You had found out from another friend that said crush was doing Political Science and naturally, you found it weird when you kept seeing him around your campus grounds when the Political Science faculty was literally at the other end of the college grounds. You figured it was just you, but you caught him staring at you a couple of times. Were your eyes playing tricks on you? Or was it real? Whatever the case was, you couldn’t shake off the feeling of having a pair of eyes on your back whenever he was around.

September 15th

It was just another ordinary day for you and you left the café with your usual cup of coffee in hand. Just as you were about to turn the corner, a tall figure stood right in front of you, blocking your way. Looking up, you found yourself face to face with someone familiar: Jae.

“Hi there, Y/N, right?”

Tongue-tied, all you could do was nod.

“Phew I’m glad I managed to catch you…” Trailing off, he left his sentence hanging in the air and you continued to stare at him, your eyes egging him to carry on. Noticing your gaze on him, he quickly regained his composure.

“Erm, so I take Political Science and I heard you do events management and I’m actually doing a paper on that so I was hoping to get your help on it?”

It was rude to laugh but you couldn’t help the giggle that escaped your lips. How can an event management major possibly help with a Political Science paper? Also, you were sure event management was not a topic under Political Science. Jae definitely had another agenda, and it was plain for all to see.

“I suck at this don’t I?” Jae sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck as he peeked at you from beneath his glasses, a light pink of embarrassment dusting his cheeks.

“Well… I wouldn’t say that you suck…but next time why don’t you just tell me what you want straight? Is this your way of asking a girl out on a date?”

As a grin split across his lips, Jae nodded his head tentatively.

Now it was your turn to turn red as you tried to fight back the smile that was threatening to show on your face but that didn’t escape Jae’s eyes.

“Is that a yes Y/N?”

“Yes, sure, I’d love to go on a date with you.”

“6pm tonight here Y/N?”

Perhaps you might have nodded your head a little too vigorously but this time, Jae didn’t hold back and showed his immense joy by gracing you with that huge grin that you loved so much.

Suffice to say, after that date, many more came and 3 months later, he asked you to be his as the first snow fell.

-

He was the first guy you had skinship with.

Even though you were officially together, treating Jae like your boyfriend still felt a little awkward. You blamed it on your inexperience – you never had any semblance of a love life till Jae waltzed into your life 3 months ago. You didn’t know how to act like a girlfriend; when was it alright to start holding hands? Should you be kissing already? Was it ok to hug him goodbye from now on? A million thoughts whizzed through your head and you started to wonder if you were good enough for him. You began to feel like a fool for not even knowing the basics on how to be a girlfriend. Swimming so deep in your thoughts, you hadn’t even noticed Jae was in front of you till he placed a hand on your shoulder, causing you to jump.

“What’s wrong Y/N? You seem so dazed today.”

“Nothing Jae, it’s fine. Let’s go.”

You turned to leave but he pulled you back to face him.

“Y/N, I can read you like an open book. Something’s bothering you, tell me what’s wrong.”

You hesitated, unsure if you should let him know of your insecurities. Finally, you relented.

“Jae, am I good enough as a girlfriend?”

Jae was obviously dumbfounded, judging by the way his eyebrows furrowed and his lips turned into a frown. He opened his mouth to reply but you cut him off.

“This seems so stupid, I know, but I just feel like I’m not good enough at showering you with affection. Other girls seem so natural when it comes to skinskip, but I cannot, for the life of me, work up to guts to hold your hand, or hug you or – ”

Your sentence was abruptly cut off as you found yourself pressed against Jae’s chest, the deep rumble of his chest and clear laughter mixing together in your ear to form a beautiful melody.

“Babe I can’t believe you’re worrying about that – I can’t even – oh gosh how adorable can you be?” Peering up to look at him, you found Jae shaking his head at you as he gazed at you lovingly.

“What… it’s a valid concern… people do couple things together and I don’t even know how to act like one, it makes me feel bad…” Your eyes then dropped to the floor.

“Babe, listen to me.” Placing a gentle finger under your chin, he tilted your head up till he was holding your steady gaze.

“I didn’t ask you to be my girlfriend just to do couple things with you – I asked you to be mine because I love you, and I genuinely want to treasure you. It’s alright even if we don’t hold hands now, or kiss. I didn’t do these things because I wanted to wait till you were ready; I didn’t want to rush things and risk scaring you away. You might start to think I only want to get into your pants, which is absolutely not true for the record. Besides, if you’re ever shy, I can take the lead. Heh.”

“Thanks Jae, you’re the best…”

Wrapping your arms around his torso as he placed his chin on top of your head, he held you silently for a few seconds before placing a soft kiss on your head.

Ever since that day, kisses and hugs became a frequent thing and Jae seemed to love it more and more as time passed.

-

He was your first kiss.

For your first anniversary, Jae had insisted on taking you to the beach and as always, he never disappoints. Jae spared every effort into making you feel like a princess that day – candlelit dinner, roses on the beach and of course, your favourite, a song for you as he serenaded you with his guitar. As the golden sun dipped beyond the horizon, both of you walked along the beach, hand in hand, as he talked about the new song that he was writing about now. You listened to him with revere; listening to his voice was your favourite thing in this world.

Just then, a wave of courage washed over you and you stopped in your tracks, causing Jae to turn around.

“Something wrong babe?”

“Nothing” was all you said as you took 2 bold steps towards him before sealing your lips together. Overcoming his initial shock, Jae’s hands found their way into your soft brown locks as he deepened the kiss. Finally breaking apart, you found your voice again.

“Thank you so much for everything Jae, I thank my lucky stars every day to have you with me all this while.”

“Me too babe, but what was that all about?”

“I just wanted to… say I love you in another way today.”

“Just for today? Awww” He then gave you those puppy eyes as you smacked his chest.

“Greedy! It just ended and you’re asking for more?”

“Well, a man can have a little hope right?” He then swooped in to steal another quick kiss before taking off down the length of the beach, leaving you to chase after him.

Jae stole so many more kisses after that day, not like you minded anyways.

-

He was the first man you had shared a bed with.

In your final year of college, both of you had finally saved enough to move out of the college dorms to rent an apartment together. You kept yourself busy that whole day, unpacking and finally settling into the new house with Jae.

But when night fell, did you then realise what was going to happen.

You were going to share a bed with Jae.

Sure, you’ve hugged him before, kissed him before but sharing a bed with him was like a whole new world altogether. You were uncertain about the whole idea but that night, when he pulled you into his chest, wrapping a protective arm around you with his cheeks pressed against your temple, everything felt so right that you drifted right off to sleep.

On nights when you couldn’t sleep, he would always be there to talk to you until tiredness took over.

On nights when nightmares paid you a visit, his safe arms were always there to hold you till sweet sleep found you again.

On cold nights, his body would be your second blanket, giving you more than just warmth, but comfort as well.

You don’t regret renting the house together, or sharing a bed with him daily.

Because waking up next to him every morning was a blessing.

-

He was also your first heartbreak.

Opening your apartment door, you didn’t even have time to put down your books before Jae picked you up and spun you round and round in the air.

“Jae what’s going on!”

“I got it! I got it!”

“Got what?”

“I got accepted into JYP! Babe I’m gonna be able to become a singer now!”

“That’s great Jae! Erm… how about I go get groceries to make some dinner? Then we can celebrate and talk about it more.”

“Thanks babe, I’m gonna call the family to let them know about this.”

“You do that Jae.”

He gave you a quick kiss before turning to bound off into the living room, already busy punching numbers into his cell phone as you quietly slipped outside.

Walking along the pavement, staring at your brown boots that stood out amongst the orange autumn leaves, you tried your best to stop the few tears slipping down your face.

You were angry.

But what for? You couldn’t even answer that question, which only added to the frustration you were feeling.  

You’d knew all along; late nights staying up to have life conversations meant that you heard on more than one occasion about his real dream: to be a singer. You knew how much he loved music, loved singing, loved playing the guitar, loved playing for an audience. Now that he was going to be able to do all of that, why weren’t you happy for him? Shouldn’t love be about wishing the best for the other party, no matter the circumstances? So why is it now that you found bitterness residing within you, and not happiness for him?

Perhaps you were angry at him. For not telling you about the audition, for not giving you some warning beforehand that he might leave.

Or maybe you were just angry at fate: for giving you such a wonderful partner but ultimately, taking him away from you.

Jae was an idealist; he would do anything later on to convince you that the both of you could still work out somehow, despite the objection, despite the rules.

But you were a realist; and you knew deep down in your heart that no matter what he said, this is where your stories end.

-

The rest was simply too painful to think about; how you broke up with him, how he had left and when you finally returned to the present, you found that your cheeks had already been stained wet and you rushed to wipe them off your face before anyone else could see.

He was supposed to be a thing of a past, something you should have forgotten a long time ago.

But 10 years on; tonight, you finally found out that he had never really left. He was simply a faded movie of the past, always playing, but never demanding for attention. How silly of you, to think that you could possibly forget your first love. As you struggled through the rest of the night with thoughts of him, you finally managed to get through that pile of documents and hopefully remembering enough to not mess up tomorrow.

You fell asleep that night, hoping to get a break from thoughts of him but he still managed to have a hold on you, memories of your time together playing throughout the night.