#like I’m literally on call as a Victorian teenager basically at all times | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

rein-ette · 3 years ago

Note

Are you still working on your Commonwealth study? Do you have any thoughts on Arthur's relationships with his colonies apart from Canzuk + US?

Not properly, unfortunately with exams and then work I haven’t had mental/emotional capacity to do real research (and probably won’t for a while 😔). But I have continued to think about and develop certain relationships, and I think I also have old hcs I’ve never shared, so I’ll put those down!

Born into the Empire

Australia

@oumaheroes has already done such great hcs on him idk what I can add, but basically he was a little bit of a rowdy child, always breaking windows and shattering fancy pots, never able to sit still. I think rainbow once mentioned that Ken (short for Kenneth, my name for Aus) was a lot like England as a child in his curiosity and energy, and I wholeheartedly agree. But I think Arthur’s intensity was more inwardly directed, pushing him to pursue and master new talents and learn whatever he could, while Australia is a little more carefree in his love for the outdoors, exploring, jumping around and off things, little wild animals. Unfortunately for him, he was born in a period of the empire when Arthur was very serious about his kids education, and therefore often praised those who studied hard and learned fast, which really just wasn’t Australia’s cup of tea. Australia took this kinda hard and thought he was the “dumb” one in the family that Arthur was always scolding, but in reality Arthur knew and appreciated that Australias interests lay elsewhere — he was just a frustrated, tired, parent who really wanted to give his kids the best while also holding his empire together, two goals that were never going to fit well in the end and would completely exhaust him.

As Australia’s grown older he’s realized a bit of this (not entirely, though) and also that 1) he really did break a lot expensive things and cause general mayhem 2) scolding us Arthur’s way of showing he cares, if he didn’t he wouldn’t have payed attention to him at all 3) despite being a penal colony, he was still one of Arthur’s more “legitimate” children (being white and a boy) and was therefore still incredibly privileged — never having to question, for example, why it was that Arthur was his dad, if it should be this way, or if he had a seat at the family table at all (more on this later).

New Zealand

Zee, from birth, was a clear favourite. Obedient, calm, quietly intelligent, he would also later develop a blistering sense of humour which combined with his appearance made it overwhelmingly clear who’s child he was. If Ken questioned his place in the family because of his poor academic record and others did because of their appearance/race/other complications, Kaelan never had such problems; his siblings called him the “prince.” Zee, however, also had a charm that, like Matthew, endeared him to his siblings and mostly protected him from jealousy, though he certainly still had issues with being called a try hard, daddy’s boy, bossy, arrogant. Certainly as a child Zee was a little prideful and, under that unperturbed demeanour, willful, but he grew out of it by the 20th century and became one of those most trusted by Arthur, second only to Matthew. He’s also always been inseparable from his brother Australia despite their differences, and today they both have one of the healthiest and most amicable relationships with Arthur of any nation, let alone former colonies (family road trips, every summer).

Bermuda

I absolute fell in love with this girl after reading about here, once, in this fic by @shachaai, and after that my mind just ran away with me. For me, her human name given to her by Arthur just has to be Ariel — for the little mermaid reference, yes, symbolizing her connection to the sea and stunning good looks, but also because:

1. Ariel is a biblical name, meaning lion of God. This makes sense to me, because Bermuda began as a Portuguese trade post, so Arthur definitely consulted our resident bad catholic Port before naming her.

2. Ariel used to be boys name. This also makes sense, because I hc Bermuda was and still is a tomboy. Bitch is fierce, takes no prisoners, and has zero filter. Her letters to Arthur, which all the colonies sent so Arthur could keep an eye on things, were full of shit like “I swear to god if the Spanish don’t get out of my waters I might eat one of them,” and “father, I asked you for destroyers two months ago, and yet you sent them to Hong Kong — could you explain this most unusual occurrence, surely it’s not that you forgot”, and “thank you for the harpoon on my birthday, I caught a small shark a couple days ago and have sent you some of its teeth for your collection.” Arthur tolerates this attitude because he’s weak when it comes to girls; he absolutely spoils his daughters (and flushes like a 16 year old when a woman so much as bats her eyelashes at him). Yes, p*ssywhipped Arthur is a hill I will die on.

3. It also suits her because? Ariel? Shakespeare? The Tempest? Bermuda Triangle? Shipwrecks? Daughter-like figure of powerful and vengeful sorcerer? Yeah. And this girl is a fire spirit — she is so lively, snarky, clever. As she’s grown older she’s mellowed out a little, but still: a no shit taken, no fucks given type of gal.

4. Speaking of growing up, she’s also become quite the beauty. Shacha, if I’m remembering correctly, described her as dark skinned, wavy-haired, and green eyed and that image has been burned onto the back of my eyelids ever since. Those Iberian genetics really be pulling through for her, that’s for sure. Engport love child if I’ve ever seen one. Definitely one of the prettiest in her family.

Singapore

I’ve already mentioned this to needcake, but I’m not too big a fan of canon Singapore, so this is my oc version. Singapore is fascinating to me because it had only a very small local population before it became a colony (The original settlement had actually been destroyed by the Portuguese about two centuries before the British started building a port there.) So nation-tans like Singapore and Bermuda really are Arthur’s children in the most direct sense of the word. And yet, Singapore is mostly ethnically Chinese, with Malays being the second largest group. Growing up Asian in a white, Victorian era family surely cannot have been easy and more than once Singapore probably wondered if there hadn’t been some mistake. To make up for the constant fear that he wasn’t “really” British, Singapore studied ferociously and had a truly terrifying work ethic. I’m not sure if this is common knowledge outside Asian circles, so I’ll mention that this hc comes from the fact Singapore is well known for having truly exceptional students and some of the most prestigious schools. Singaporeans score highly in literally everything and they have an advantage with good English learning environments, a highly desirable trait in Asia, but these results come from brutally long hours — and its really saying something that they’re known for working hard, considering the studying ethic of students in Korea, Japan, and China aint nothing to sneeze at, either. To me this actually fits really well with Singapore’s upbringing in Arthur’s household, because Arthur himself prizes intelligence and hard work above all else, being a workaholic himself.

As for their relationship, it was probably the best when Singapore was young and peaked in the 1930s with the massive naval base the British built at Singapore, at the time the largest dry dock in the world. Singapore was a well-behaved child, not necessarily introverted but not rowdy either, and all the way into his teenage years he truly admired Arthur and was proud to be a part of the British Empire, despite his lingering unease and insecurities. The British defeat in World War II, however, was a massive turning point. He had worked his ass off to be a good son, a good brother, to contribute to the only family and system he had ever known, and he had thought by the 30s he was finally on his way to becoming a fine adult. And suddenly, the British surrender brings his entire world crashing down. He had followed the rules faithfully thinking it was his destiny, but suddenly it was clear that all rules were made up. Of course, his insecurities exploded. If the empire was a ruse, what the hell was he? A part of the illusion? He couldn’t have a truly Asian identity, because many of the old East Asian nations shunned him for his Western upbringing, and he could not entirely understand their values either. So he was a kid who kinda had to figure out late and very very suddenly who the fuck he was and wanted to be.

And, well, he’s done pretty well for himself, hasn’t he. After having a total crisis and questioning everything, I think Singapore slowly started to realize that just because the British Empire as a political entity didn’t last forever, that didn’t mean that his entire childhood and identity weren’t real. The love he gave to his siblings and the love he got back, the hard work he put in, his bond with Arthur and the safe, happy childhood he had — those memories and feelings didnt have to be diminished by what came after. Essentially, he learned the lesson all nations have to learn, which is that one needs to be able to discern between duties as a nation and feelings as a human being, and to some extent keep them separate to protect both.

Whoooooo ok I’ll stop there because this turned into a dissertation, sorry. Let me know if there are any specifics u want me to elaborate on or anything I missed, but I’ll leave this here for today :)

#hws england #hws Australia #hws new zealand #oc: hws Bermuda #not gonna tag anymore I’m lazy #fun times with the commonwealth #I probably won’t write so much for all of them I just put it there to remind myself #needcake #ask #my hcs

43 notes · View notes

sk1fanfiction · 4 years ago

Text

the many faces of tom riddle, part 2

-you dislike frank dillane’s portrayal of tom riddle only because you don’t think he’s attractive-

FULL DISCLAIMER THAT THIS IS JUST MY OPINION OF A CHARACTER WHO DOESN’T HAVE THE STRONGEST CANON CHARACTERIZATION, AND THUS ALL THIS IS BASED ON MY CONCEPTUALIZATION (and this time, featuring a bit of armchair child psych from a student).

Wait, don’t clutch your pearls just yet. Compose yourself.

I am about to explain why it’s not actually that bad, and Dillane’s portrayal is vastly underappreciated.

I definitely agree that his portrayal comes off as ‘creepier’. It’s not helped by the stylistic decisions in the scene -- the smeary, green filter gives the scene a sinister quality.

Even Slughorn looks suspect here, which is somewhat appropriate, given that he is complicit in this crime.

Again, this scene is very much intended to be slightly off.

You’ll notice (and I’ll discuss this again when I talk about Coulson’s portrayal) that Dillane is almost always shot from at least slightly below, which makes the lower third of his face look bigger (and thus more menacing). The lighting also makes his eyes glow in a really unnatural way. There’s an echo-y effect to make his voice (and not Slughorn’s) sound unnerving.

People talk about how Coulson would have looked in this scene, and if he was filmed in the same way (monotone, smeary/shadowy filter, and always from below), he’d look a bit creepy, too.

But all of this, imo, is for a pretty good reason. Slughorn isn’t the POV character. Harry is. Harry is learning about how a young Lord Voldemort wheedled the secret of Horcruxes out of an unsuspecting teacher. Unlike in COS, he expects Riddle to be evil. And, so, Harry’s new perception of Tom Riddle literally colors how we perceive him.

Take this shot, for example: he does that head-tilt thing that Coulson does, and it’s actually... kind of... cute???

Imagine Dillane filmed from slightly above, like Coulson usually is, and it looks even more innocent. (I mean, come on, he does not look like he’s killed four people, does he?) It’s not hard to imagine teachers being taken in by this kind of act.

Even that little smirk he does when the camera (aka, Harry’s gaze) pans in, is for Harry’s benefit. No one else noticed that.

However, I still fail to find this creepy, like, at all. Yes, it’s a fake smile, but he’s portraying a different side of Tom Riddle to Coulson. Whereas, in COS, he’s in his vindictive, murderous element, where he’s free to express himself, in this scene, Tom Riddle is doing what he does best -- manipulating and managing appearances.

This entire scene is an act. And because Harry knows it’s an act, it should look a bit stilted.

From the Hepzibah Smith scene in the books: Voldemort smiled mechanically and Hepzibah simpered.

So, Harry is pretty adept at parsing Tom’s fake expressions.

But just look at the expressiveness in his face: he goes from brooding, he blinks, and his entire face changes to this charming (fake) smile.

At the risk of sounding elitist, I’m a bit tired of seeing the word ‘psychopath’, which is not an actual medical diagnosis recognised by any psychological or psychiatric institution, being tossed about, especially with reference to Tom Riddle (and from a neuroscience perspective, it’s doubly annoying). There’s no such thing as ‘insanity’ or ‘psychopathy’ or being ‘crazy.’

-although I use it too a shorthand in conversation to distinguish ‘canon’ Tom from his ‘softer’ OOC counterparts, I really shouldn’t-

Unfortunately, I’ve seen the ‘psychopath’ comment used time-and-time again as an excuse or a full explanation of ‘why Tom Riddle went evil’ (JKR in fact, has made a weird comment in an interview, basically saying that ‘psychopaths can’t be redeemed or learn adaptive coping skills’ or whatever), which really just goes to show the lack of understanding and compassion when personality disorders, especially, are concerned.

But what I like most about the opening of this scene, actually, is that first, listless expression. And this is where we get slightly into headcanon, but Tom Riddle is the opposite of a happy, mentally healthy teenager. By Dumbledore’s own admission, he has no real friends. He has no parental figures, no real attachments. Yes, he might derive some pride or enjoyment from being good at magic and top of his class and all that, but I really don’t think even Tom finds that truly fulfilling. There is nothing that makes him happy.

In fact, although some might perceive it as ‘creepy’, I think that listless expression is an accurate window into Tom’s psyche.

I know people aren’t big on Freud, but I think that he does make some interesting points (also, cut the guy some slack for being relatively open-minded for the Victorian Era, and inventing psychoanalysis and while yes he did say some sexist stuff, good luck finding a field of science that isn’t male-focused and makes crazy generalizations about women, especially back in the day) about the possible origins of thanatophobia, the fear of death.

According to Freud, thanatophobia is a disguise for a deeper source of concern -- he did not believe that people were capable of conceptualizing their own death to that extent. Instead, he believed that this phobia was caused by unresolved childhood conflicts that the sufferer cannot come to terms with or express emotion towards.

Now, I know Freud almost always attributes mental distress to childhood experiences, but I think in this case, it really has some merit.

According to attachment theory, the basis of how we form attachments in adulthood is dictated by learning it from experiences with caregivers in the first two years of life. We know Tom was born in an orphanage, and that he didn’t cry much as a baby, and subsequently, probably received very little attention. Compounded with possible genetic factors and his caregivers being afraid or wary of his magical abilities, he later struggled to form attachments because of this -- I would actually go so far as to say that by the time Dumbledore meets him, Tom Riddle is severely depressed.

And that flat affect and anhedonia, I think, comes over very well in Dillane’s portrayal. There’s kind of this resignation -- a very deep sadness and loneliness to his character.

Of course, he doesn’t derive any comfort or fulfillment from human interaction, because (to borrow the description from the Wikipedia article on ‘Reactive attachment disorder’, which Tom meets all the criteria for) he has a “grossly disturbed internal working model of relationships.” In other words, he is unresponsive to all offers of attachment because of this unacknowledged trauma.

(You could arguably class Tom as having an avoidant attachment style, but I think in his case the trauma and its effect on him are severe enough to call it disordered.)

RAD isn’t particularly well-characterized (especially neurologically) and quite new in the literature, but here are some links if anyone is interested in doing a bit of digging: Link 1 | Link 2 | Paper 1 | Paper 2

And, instead of trying to resolve this conflict in a healthy way, or at least recognize that this is why he can’t be happy and try to learn how to cope from there, he (a) represses the desire for human attachment and (b) funnels that negative emotion into being the fault of Death, the Grim Reaper (again, to borrow Freudian terms).

And we all know how that turned out...

(And now, this should go without saying, but psychoanalyzing fictional characters has nothing to do with assigning a morality to mental disorders. Mental illness is neither a cause nor an excuse for criminal behavior -- in the same way that the cycle of violence is a phenomenon, not an excuse. Tom Riddle did not become a genocidal murderer because, in common parlance, he was a ‘psychopath’ -- he was not necessarily ‘predisposed’ to evil and could just as easily chosen to not follow the path that he did -- instead, he willingly made poor choices. This is a descriptive analysis, not a justification -- a ‘how’, not a ‘why’)

Here’s a Carl Jung quote that articulates it better:

“I am not what happened to me, I am what I choose to become.”

Yes, he’s a bit stiff (and a lot more formal than in COS during his *conversation* with Harry). But, and here comes the controversial bit, this is appropriate for a portrayal of a schoolboy in the 1940s. The upright posture is accurate -- respectful, polite -- everything Tom Riddle would have been expected to be (and even Coulson, in that scene with Dumbledore in COS, is quite stiff). Even the way he looks at Slughorn and maintains eye contact is very *respectful.*

And, Dillane (I think he’s seventeen or eighteen here) actually looks like a believable sixteen-year-old. I’m sorry, I love Coulson’s portrayal as well, but he looks around nineteen in COS; so in HBP, he probably would have looked at least twenty-two or so. (Sorry, not sorry).

This may be influenced by my own interpretation of the character (because I imagine Tom always looks young for his age, and Dillane fits that archetype, but I don’t think that’s very popular), but I think young Tom Riddle is supposed to be *cute* and a bit stiff/shy/awkward (being charming and awkward is very much possible), if you consider the way Dippet and Slughorn treat him.

To support this, he says very few words to Hepzibah Smith (in the book, that scene’s not in the movie), and is very... bashful and coy during the whole interaction? I think yes, he’s charismatic, but he’s not loud, suave, openly flirtatious or particularly verbose. Tom Riddle should have a quiet magnetism, and to me, that came across in Dillane’s portrayal.

"I'd be glad to see anything Miss Hepzibah shows me," said Voldemort quietly, and Hepzibah gave another girlish giggle.

...

"Are you all right, dear?"

"Oh yes," said Voldemort quietly. "Yes, I'm very well. ..."

Even the ‘ugly, greedy look’ described in the books, when Slughorn starts spilling his secrets, is there. This is how he’s supposed to look! Slughorn glimpses it, but doesn’t understand its significance. Harry does.

“Slughorn looked deeply troubled now: He was gazing at Riddle as though he had never seen him plainly before, and Harry could tell that he was regretting entering into the conversation at all.”

Remember the context of this moment, as well: He’s just discovered how to create multiple Horcruxes. Excuse him for looking a bit creepy (if not now, then when?).

Here’s two direct quotes of Harry’s impression of Tom Riddle in that scene:

“But Riddle's hunger was now apparent; his expression was greedy, he could no longer hide his longing.”

“Harry had glimpsed his face, which was full of that same wild happiness it had worn when he had first found out that he was a wizard, the sort of happiness that did not enhance his handsome features, but made them, somehow, less human. . . .”

Tom Riddle’s Horcruxes are a direct metaphor for his refusal to allow himself to heal from his trauma -- instead, he continues to inflict destruction on himself and others.

His desire to continue creating more Horcruxes sort of resounds with the fact that self-harm can also become a compulsion.

I’d also like to digress a bit to discuss the Gaunt Ring, while we’re at it. While we’ve talked about his attachment issues in general, this discussion is particularly pertinent to father figures. And while Tom’s attachment issues are extensive, I think there’s ample evidence that as a child, he craved acknowledgement and acceptance from a father figure -- the man who gave him the only thing Tom truly owned -- his name. He would have had a vaguely defined mother figure in Mrs. Cole, perhaps.

"You see that house upon the hillside, Potter? My father lived there. My mother, a witch who lived here in this village, fell in love with him. But he abandoned her when she told him what she was.... He didn’t like magic, my father ... He left her and returned to his Muggle parents before I was even born, Potter, and she died giving birth to me, leaving me to be raised in a Muggle orphanage ... but I vowed to find him ... I revenged myself upon him, that fool who gave me his name ... Tom Riddle. ..."

We know that by June of 1943 (COS flashback) Tom has already uncovered the truth of his parentage; he knows he is the Heir of Slytherin via the Gaunt line, and he describes himself to Dippet as ‘Half-blood, sir. Witch mother, Muggle father.’

In Part 1, I discussed the high probability that as a presumed ‘Mudblood’, Tom Riddle was treated rather poorly in Slytherin House. But by this scene in the fall of 1943, he is surrounded by a group of adoring hangers-on. Why?

In my opinion; the Gaunt Ring. We know that Tom stopped wearing it after school, so its sentimental value couldn’t have been that great. We know he likes to collect objects (which I believe stems from his attachment issues -- he seeks comfort in things instead of other people).

Signet rings (such as the one belonging to Tutankhamun seen above) were used to stamp legal documents and such, in order to certify someone’s identify -- like an e-certificate, if you will. Like Tutankhamun’s ring, the Gaunt Ring bears an identifying symbol -- Marvolo Gaunt tells us proudly that it bears the Peverell family crest.

By the Middle Ages, anyone of influence, including the nobility, wore a signet ring. Rings in antiquity were auspicious -- they signified power, legitimacy, and authority. And so, I believe that all the Sacred Twenty-Eight families would have worn these, too.

And so, bearing the Gaunt Ring would have established Tom Riddle, symbolically and in the eyes of the Sacred Twenty-Eight (his future supporters and followers), as the legitimate heir to the House of Gaunt. This is why, I believe, Tom coveted the ring as soon as he saw it -- not just because it was a family heirloom, and not just because he thought it was a pretty toy for his collection.

(He curses it so that no one else but him can wear the Gaunt Ring safely.)

This is why, to make the legitimization literal as well as symbolic, Tom murders his father and grandparents. It’s not just an act of vindictive, murderous rage due to his perception of being rejected by his father (although it is that, too). And so, Tom, abandoning his search for a father figure (and possibly also giving up on the possibility to allow himself to heal from his own personal trauma rather than continue to inflict it on others), ‘cleanses’ his bloodline, to make himself truly legitimate. It’s rather telling that instead of affirming his legitimacy as a Riddle, which would have put him in line for a nice inheritance, and hey -- money is money -- (thus accepting his half-blood status), he simply kills them all. He has done all the murdering he needs to become immortal (and he hasn’t had the discussion about multiple Horcruxes yet); but yet, he does it again. Frightening stuff.

(Just look how the others look at Tom. All but the one to his left -- possibly Nott, Rosier, or Mulciber -- have their torsos turned towards him. Their attention is on him, while he knowingly regards the viewer/Harry. Tom seems a little uncomfortable with the attention.).

“And there were the half-dozen teenage boys sitting around Slughorn with Tom Riddle in the midst of them, Marvolo's gold-and-black ring gleaming on his finger.”

...

“Riddle smiled; the other boys laughed and cast him admiring looks.”

...

“Tom Riddle merely smiled as the others laughed again. Harry noticed that he was by no means the eldest of the group of boys, but that they all seemed to look to him as their leader.”

The ‘gang’ are true hangers-on; Tom doesn’t seem to pay them much attention.

So, if not via careful flattery or charisma, the attraction must be status.

And perhaps yet more telling...

"I don't know that politics would suit me, sir," he said when the laughter had died away. "I don't have the right kind of background, for one thing." “A couple of the boys around him smirked at each other. Harry was sure they were enjoying a private joke, undoubtedly about what they knew, or suspected, regarding their gang leader's famous ancestor.”

That, in my opinion, is as good as we’re going to get as proof that Tom’s shiny new signet ring (and by extension, his new status) made a big impression on his fellow students.

So, when he returns to Hogwarts, he is ‘pureblood’. He is cleansed of his Muggle roots, and becomes the legitimate heir of the House of Gaunt, now well on his way to becoming Lord Voldemort...

Watch the scene again, with a critical eye, and imagine Slughorn’s perspective, instead of Harry’s. There’s nothing creepy about Tom Riddle... unless you know what he is...

Strip away all the effects of Harry’s gaze (and notice, here he’s still looking at Harry), and he’s quite the charmer, actually.

(I will concede that I don’t like the promotional images where they have him looking like he’s up to no good. And I do wish he blinked once in a while.)

My challenge to you: Rewatch the scene with an open mind, and let me know if you agree that Dillane’s portrayal comes off as depressive rather than ‘creepy.’ And if not, why do you dislike his portrayal?

#tom riddle #character analysis #character study #the many faces of #tom marvolo riddle #frank dillane #i literally could not find any pictures other than these #literal crumbs i swear #i know this is unpopular #people really dislike him i guess #watch the scene again with an open mind i promise you'll like it #i seriously do think he did a good job #tw: mention of child abuse #tw: mention of self-harm #i'm not trying to oversimplify things but you can't deny that maybe if tom was hugged as a child it would have helped #say it with me: psychopathy is not an actual medical diagnosis #it's actual more of a legal/criminal justice term #and people just use it as a synonym for 'evil' at this point so the original meaning is pretty much obscured #and personality disorders should not be moralized #people with personality disorders are not 'evil'

92 notes · View notes

lunarliza · 4 years ago

Text

Fake Boyfriend | Chapter 4: Kook Conventions

JJ x Kook!reader

series masterlist | prev. chapter| chapter one

my masterlist

You’re a Kook Princess who has everything you ever wanted... until your handsome Kook Prince dumps you for a hot new fling. To save your reputation, you bribe the one person he hates the most, JJ Maybank, to pretend to be your boyfriend for the summer. All’s fair in love and war. But where do you draw that line when you’re suddenly wishing your fake boyfriend is your real one?

note: slight mention of panic attack

If there was anything you learned about JJ that Friday, it was that he was the absolute worse at sticking to the plan.

For one, he spent so much time looking for the tennis courts, instead of following your clearly written out instructions, that he ended up being late altogether to pick you up. What was supposed to be a grand gesture turned into you sitting on the front steps, while the sun was near done setting, waiting for stupid JJ while everyone else had already left.

“What the hell took you so long?!” you scolded, slamming the truck door shut in annoyance once he finally showed up.

“This place is confusing as hell! I kept having to make loops. It is called Figure Eight for a reason,” he tried to justify, pulling out of the lot.

“JJ I texted you specific instructions on how to get here!” you groused, rubbing your temple, “Anyways, it’s fine, whatever. Let’s just hurry home so I can get ready. My house is just a little bit up that way.”

“Yeah, uh, about that,” JJ mentioned sheepishly, keeping his eyes on the road, “I kinda have to help Pope and Poppa Heyward with something right now. It will only take an hour tops! I’ll just meet you at the party after I’m done.”

You groaned loudly, face-palming yourself. “JJ what the hell! I told you specifically to cancel your plans tonight. It was supposed to be our debut!”

“I did! I just,” he scratched the back of his neck, “kinda broke one of their carts this afternoon, so I have to help them fix it for tomorrow. I think they’re catering your little brunch thingy.”

“How did you even break the cart to begin with?!”

He hid his face from your dagger-eyes and admitted in a low voice, “I, uh, tried to surf on it down a hill when they weren’t looking.”

You had to fight the urge to smack him upside the head, but you didn’t want to risk him veering off the road. Lucky bastard.

“Fine,” you grumbled, “Just make sure you’re on time to the party.” You then eyed his outfit up and down. Even in the little sunlight that emitted from outside, you could tell it was all dirty from his day activities. “And please change into something a little nicer,” you added, “These Kooks would run you to the ground with that on.”

JJ dropped you off at your house and sped away as you unlocked the door into a near empty house. Looks like it would just be you and Alfred for dinner.

Your parents were headed off to the mainland for some business convention. Thankfully, your presence was not needed which saved you an entire day of pretending to be a perfect obedient daughter. It was an exhausting act.

Most teens your age would kill for a night alone, but after countless nights sleeping isolated in a big empty house, it got old and depressing. Most of the time, you’d sleep over at Sarah’s for some kind of company. You were always welcomed at the Camerons’.

Greeting Alfred your usual hello at the foyer, you darted upstairs to wash off and get ready with the little time you had left. The aroma of filet mignon and freshly seasoned veggies filled the house air.

“Oh and Alfred,” you called out over the intricate metal banister, “It’ll just be me eating tonight, so just set the table for one please.”

“Miss Y/n, your friend is not coming?” he asked with hints of concern. You just shook your head with a sad smile. “No, he had to run last minute.”

Alfred gave you a curt nod, making way back into the kitchen while you dashed into the bathroom.

—————————————————

Instead of throwing JJ straight into the shark’s tank (even though, given his already poor track record, you strongly contemplated throwing him to literal sharks), you decided it was best to ease him into the whole boyfriend role.

You figured he’d be more in touch with his aura if you invited him to a Kook party first— which was exactly where you were, furiously texting him where on earth he was.

It was already ten o’clock. The party started hours ago, and he was nowhere to be found. An hour with Pope your ass!

Flopping onto the giant living room couch in Billy Irvine’s mansion, you frowned amongst the throng of drunk privileged kids. Around you, the Glossy Posse was gossiping with other Kooks about some of the summer newcomers while sleazy guys from out of town tried to grab their attention. It never worked.

“So y/n,” Chloe asked next to you on the couch, “I have some great news! It’s no secret that you need a date to the all the fundraiser events, and I might just have one for you! My cousin, Gerald, is coming into town next week, so I can totally set you guys up!”

She proceeded to show you pictures on her phone of a lanky tall guy with discolored hair and a creepy smile. You resorted to taking a gulp of your drink to hide your horrified expression. “Thanks, but, uh, no thanks. I actually have a date already,” you informed, typing away heatedly at your phone for JJ to arrive that instant or so help you.

“Ooh, who is it?” Ivy nosily chimed in at the mention of you finally having a date. From the couch over, you also saw Anne-Marie and Warren lean their heads closer to get the scoop.

Jeez, were people really that interested in your love life?

“It’s-”

Before you could reveal the name, a loud ‘ding’ went off from your phone followed by a text from JJ to alert you that he was out front. “Oh! He’s actually here right now,” you announced, hopping up from your seat to collect your very problematic date.

“You’re late, again!” you scolded to the blond standing all gloomy at the front of the stone curved driveway. He changed into a nicer grey long-sleeve with khaki shorts and his signature red snapback, much to your relief. It didn’t quite match with your intricate white romper, but it would do for the time being.

“The guard wouldn’t let me in the gate! I ended up having to sneak through one of the fences,” JJ explained. You rolled your eyes at his ridiculous excuse. “Then why didn’t you just call me to let you in?” you pointed out.

“It was more fun this way,” he peskily grinned, earning himself a smack on the arm. The guy was impossible. “Ow!” he whined, rubbing the spot. Ignoring his complaints, you seized his hand and led him inside. It was about time!

The foyer flashed with various-colored LED lights while thundering rap music echoed from basically every corner of the house. All around, eyes gawked at you stepping through the Victorian-style entryway with a Pogue of all people. It was like walking into a cave of bats.

“Anyways,” you began, disregarding all the probing eyes, “This is Billy Irvine’s place. It’s the nicest house on the Eight. His parents are out of town right now, so we’re celebrating the Glossy Posse’s birthdays.”

It alway was a coincidence to you how all three of them had birthdays on back-to-back days. Witchcraft, honestly.

“Those bitches?” JJ grimaced at the mention of his sworn female enemies, “Ew why? They hate the Pogues.”

“Just shut up and suck it up. Here,” you grabbed a glass from the champagne tower in the middle of the spacious room, “Have a drink to get your mind off it.”

“Champagne? What the hell is this, England?” he yelped, taking a swig. Rolling your eyes, you hoped the alcohol would alleviate his irritability for the night. Fortunately, the blaring music was enough to drown out his constant bickering.

“Now put your arm around me! It’s time to make our rounds,” you demanded. He obliged and you turned on your best lovestruck game-face, giving him the grand tour of the mansion.

Billy’s mom was also one of the important people of the Island Club, so you had been going over there ever since you were nine being that your moms were friends. Still, you were always amazed by the extravagance of their house. You could tell JJ was also in shock of it all too.

It looked like a castle with two grand marble staircases circling the front with a tall vintage Tiffany chandelier hanging over everything. The floors were the shiniest white marble even with hundreds of teenagers recklessly dancing and slipping all over it.

“Damn, so this is how the other side lives,” JJ commented, marveling at how the LED lights reflected off the diamonds on the chandelier.

He slid his hand down to your waist as you stood closer to his side, taking a whiff of his teakwood cologne. Deep down, it was nice to have someone to attend parties with you, even if it was fake and with JJ.

You took him up the right staircase where plastered kids— some you recognized from school, some just in town for the summer— stumbled up and down the stairs or sloppily made out while pinned to the side walls. Realistically, it didn’t seem that off-brand to JJ’s party scene.

“We’re only staying an hour right?” JJ reminded in your ear as you approached the open bar upstairs. Yes, the Irvine’s had a literal bar in their second level.

“Yes, grumpy!”

“Do you know if Sarah and John B are coming?” JJ continued to question. You settled on top of a retro bar stool as he leaned against the Irvine’s prized rustic bar.

“No,” you answered, “Sarah doesn’t come to these because Topper’s here. And she hates Kooks.”

“She’s the smarter one of you two!” JJ shouted among the loud music. You shook your head and whacked him again, but lightly this time. Seemed that would be you guy’s thing— hitting.

Even in their inebriated states, Kooks were still staring at you like you had grown a third arm. Which, honestly, was what being with JJ felt like half the time. From the corner of your eye, you caught a glimpse of the Glossy Posse and Warren making their way to you with either wide or curious eyes.

Oh boy.

“Y/n!” they exclaimed, shoving through the crowd. You matched their seemingly gleeful expressions, though you knew deep down they were judging you hard.

“You must be y/n’s date,” Ivy stated without much of a formal introduction.

“Aren’t you that Pogue from the Boneyard that always tries to hit on us?” Chloe brought up once she got a better look at JJ’s face. You snorted, but no one heard you.

You were slightly worried JJ would take their snarky comments the wrong way and lash back, but his cocky grin still laid proudly on his face as he held his hand out to your girl friends. “Name’s JJ. And yeah, I’m y/n’s new man.”

New man. Well, that was certainly a title. All of the Glossy Posse’s threaded eyebrows shot up at the word.

“Y/n,” Anne-Marie said in amazement, “You didn’t tell us you were dating again.”

“Yeah, well, I wanted to keep it kinda lowkey,” you lied, signaling JJ to put his arm around you again.

Expecting your friends to stick up their nose at him or give you guys condemnatory looks, you were surprised to find they were more stunned than snobby. Intrigued, you caught them eyeing JJ up and down as if he possessed some kind of magical charm.

From behind the group, you saw Warren trying to stick his hand out at JJ to introduce himself as the girls did kinda take center stage earlier, shielding him out. “Don’t believe we’ve met yet. I’m Warren, Warren Van Doren.”

JJ had to hold back a laugh at the sound of his rhyming name. So immature.

“Hey man, I’m JJ. Nice to meet you,” he greeted, shaking his hand, “Wait a sec, aren’t you that quarterback that got in that fight at regionals last year?”

Warren smiled sheepishly and looked away. “Yeah, that was me.”

You remembered that fight. The video of it actually went viral for like a week. Warren was a very nice guy, but pissed of, he was an animal. He pummeled the shit out of some of other players during that game. The topic of fighting seemed to bond the two boys as they unknowingly drifted away in their own conversation. Thank God, you were glad that at least one of the boys there would be friendly towards JJ.

“Wow, look what the cat dragged in,” Chloe announced, gesturing towards the stairway. All four of your heads turned to see Max and Anya parade up to the top step linked to one another.

That was the cue.

Furtively, you nudged at JJ’s side, interrupting his football conversation. You gave him an alerting look that said ‘look like you’re in love with me ASAP’ and he quickly enveloped his arm around you to pull you close.

Given the fact that you and JJ hardly knew each other, much less touched, it was a very ungraceful and awkward gesture. Even Warren shot you both a weird look. Either way, you figured it would be perfected after going at it a few times.

Just as the Hollywood couple sauntered in to the packed bar area, JJ dipped his face closer to yours. It was a nice touch to the act. He started whispering some stupid joke in your ear that you could hardly make out among the music and chatter, but you went along with it anyway, playfully slapping at his chest. He even placed his snapback on your head backwards. You almost yelled at him for ruining your hair, but for the sake of the show you were putting on, you pretended it was the cutest thing.

You tried not to look at Max as he passed, as you didn’t want to make things so obvious. But in the split second you did glance his way, his mouth flew agape. In that moment, you knew you had him right in the palm of your hand from twenty feet away. The evil laugh cackled inside your head while you raked your hands through JJ’s hair. It was surprisingly soft.

For the next few minutes, you could feel Max’s stare bore into you back as you leaned closer to JJ, kissing up his jawline and cheek.

“Damn, y/n, didn’t know you felt like this about me,” JJ teased.

“Shut up. I’m giving them a show,” you hissed with an infatuated smile to mask your threats.

“They’re gone now,” JJ noted lowly in your ear. You both detached like repelling magnets.

Fortunately, the posse and Warren dispersed among the crowd while you and JJ acted out your little PDA scene— it was probably from discomfort, if you were being honest. You did make sure not to hold anything back while you were draped all over JJ.

“Is that it?” JJ droned, back to his normal whiny self, “Am I done? Can we leave?”

Clicking your tongue, you shook your head, but with a grin this time. “Yes, you idiot, we can leave now.”

“Finally!”

JJ’s hand crept to your lower back as you both weaved through the mass of people to the exit. Before you could make it halfway down the staircase, however, you heard a rumbling behind you that stopped both your tracks. Warren’s six-four gigantic self was rummaging down the stairs, leaving booms in his wake.

“JJ! JJ!” he called out, grabbing hold of your fake boyfriend’s arm, “JJ dude, you gotta check out this new game system Billy has upstairs in the game room. You can play live Madden!”

“What?!” JJ’s eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas as Warren tugged you both back up the stairs with his giant football-player muscles.

“Dude it’s fucking sick! You gotta try it out,” Warren kept insisting. You knew JJ wouldn’t be able to resist. His eyes were practically glowing with excitement when he turned back to you as if to ask for some kind of approval.

“Okay, I’m just going to stay for one game,” he swore but you were a hundred-and-ten percent sure he’d be hooked and you could stay for much longer.

“Knock yourself out, Maybank,” you responded with a knowing smile, shooing him off to some depth of the Irvine’s enormous home. When he disappeared, you took the liberty to go search for your friends and finally enjoy the party for yourself.

As you predicted, one game turned into thirty real quick. It was well past midnight and JJ was still buried away somewhere doing who knows what. You didn’t mind. Warren was very responsible and you trusted him to take care of your date.

Plus, it gave you enough time to take rounds of various colored jello shots with Billy, dance on Mrs. Irvine’s countertops with the birthday girls, and devour the four-tiered tiramisu cake with fake-puking Barbie doll toppers that you helped pick out at the bakery.

When it got around one thirty, you grew a little concerned about JJ’s whereabouts so you sent him a quick text just to make sure he was okay and not shoving his head down a toilet. Your phone chimed back instantly—

Im jus fine y/n!!! One mor game! I almos beat War Ins Ass! Fuckin kwarter back!

Oh yeah, he was definitely gone. You texted your family’s driver to come by in about thirty minutes to make sure he’d get home safely. Then, you proceeded to dig in to your third slice of cake. Unlike the rest of your friends, you embraced the joy that was carbs— especially when you were drunk and there was chocolate involved.

JJ came downstairs a few minutes later and found where you were sitting on the couch surrounded by your circle of friends. Even amid the dark yet colorful beaming lights, his hair was still its usual sweaty mess with eyes a tad droopy, indicating just how drunk he was.

“Y/n! There’s my baby!”

He walked up and collapsed right onto your lap, tossing a dangly arm around you. You kept his snapback on for the entire night, assuming your hair was probably a bird’s nest underneath it. Everyone around seemed amused at the sight, and a few girls from school even began asking how you two started dating.

Maybe it wasn’t so bad after all.

Well, that was until your thigh circulation began ceasing due to JJ’s bony ass on it. You immediately demanded that you switch places with him, and he sloppily obliged. The throng around you giggled, intrigued by the new lovey-dovey couple. Secretly, you ate up the attention and knew JJ did too.

He was in the middle of telling everyone a dumb Boneyard party story when Max and Anya entered the living room premises. They looked like they were fixing to leave. Your date felt you tense a little in his lap and caught on to your sudden judder.

Boldly, JJ made direct eye contact with Max and threw him one of those ‘what’s up’ nods. Then, out of nowhere, in his completely trashed state, JJ cupped both of your cheeks and planted a very brazen kiss on your lips for everyone to see. Shutting your eyes, you heard a few whistles from the crowd around you, especially when he, very obviously, added his tongue to the mix.

JJ was a good kisser, you had to admit. It quite literally, took your breath away when he pulled back. Biting your lip, you mimicked his shit-eating grin while he pressed his perspiration-filled forehead on yours. It was a huge acne-hazard just waiting to happen. But, like the snapback, you didn’t care. It was the most thrilling thing you had done in months.

“Don’t look now, but Vega and his girl have their jaws dropped to the floor behind you,” he muttered in your ear. You giggled and held onto him closer, leaning your head on his chest.

It was probably be best fifteen hundred bucks you had ever spent.

—————————————————

The next morning was your mom’s weekly Saturday brunch. By default, you showed up an hour early to help greet the guests, frequently checking your watch and phone to see when JJ would arrive.

You had a tennis tournament earlier that morning, however, you didn’t even bother making your fake boyfriend go. After the events of last night, you knew he’d be too hungover in the morning and wouldn’t wake up in time for it. He was getting to be very predictable.

At t-minus five minutes until the brunch started, everyone had already made their way into the ballroom. That left just you waiting in the lobby area for your date. The look on your face was just about ready to kill JJ whenever he walked through the door. You also didn’t see Sarah and John B arrive either, so you assumed they would be a no-show yet again.

About a minute past noon, the blond sauntered past the doors wearing a black suit that looked two sizes to big for him with hideous shoulder pads. You presumed it was his dad’s old one. He also had on jet black sunglasses to mask the grogginess from the party, but it was pretty evident he looked and felt like shit.

“You’re late again!” you hissed through gritted teeth, snatching his hand like he was an uncontrollable child. Maybe you should invest in a leash and collar for him since he could never get his attendance right.

“What do you mean? You said noon,” he yawned, unfazed at your irritation.

“The brunch starts at noon!” you jeered, “That means you have to show up early!”

“Well you failed to mention those rules,” he tried to bicker back, but you flashed him one of your bitch-looks before he could go any further. That had him shriveling at the sight.

“Whatever, just hurry up and let’s get seated,” you ordered, leading him through the majestic looking double doors, “And take off those sunglasses!”

Much to your dismay, the doors made a very loud creaking noise when they opened. Just about everyone did a double-take to see you arrive late and with a woozy-looking boy shoving sunglasses in his suit pocket.

Eyes were glued on you while judgmental whispers filled the already tense air. There was a small churn in your stomach as you weaved through the round tables. Something was also gnawing at your brain, telling you that it was a terrible, terrible idea. You attempted to brush it aside, though, as you and JJ took your seats.

For some odd reason, the Glossy Posse didn’t show the same enthusiasm towards JJ like the did at the party. They were back to their pretentious ways— you figured it was probably just their hangover attitude.

On the other hand, Warren happily greeted JJ when he sat down, exchanging one of those typical ‘bro’ handshakes. They started chatting on about the previous night while you tried to make small talk with the girls. Unfortunately, they were still being short with you and were, very obviously, throwing looks at JJ, along with their dates.

Glancing to your parents’ table, they didn’t look like they cared too much about your situation, having just flown in from their trip. They were too engrossed in entertaining their friends to really pay you any mind. Sometimes you were grateful that they were oblivious to some things. When you look over at the Vegas, however, Mr. and Mrs. Vega both sent you a disapproving look. The other families followed.

You couldn’t help but feel like you were in over your head at that point. Was it a mistake bringing JJ to this event?

The servers came out and made their rounds at the tables, setting bowls of water in front of everyone.

“Thank God, I’m starving,” JJ piped, taking his dessert spoon to sip water from the finger bowl.

“JJ,” you yelled-whispered as guests continued to stare.

“What?” he chided back with an attitude, completely unaware of his surroundings.

“The water is for your fingers.”

His face shot up from the bowl and scanned the room at people dipping their fingers into their respective bowls. “Oh shit,” he sputtered as your entire table tried to hide their snorts.

When the food finally came out, it didn’t really get any better. Baked chicken was on the menu and, well, JJ was the only one in the room who didn’t use a fork and knife. Everyone stared at him incredulously as he used his hands to gobble up his plate. Though, the boy didn’t seem to notice any of the baffled eyes.

Attempting to shield your red face, you continued to take tiny bites from your food, hoping the next hour would go by fast.

You hoped too soon.

As soon as JJ was done eating, he let out a loud belt to where the tables around you could hear. Warren high-fived him. At least someone got a kick out of it. You, along with the rest of the guests, had nothing but revolt on your faces.

Once the plates were cleared, the servers brought out creme brûlée for dessert. You were grateful it was something semi-clean to eat. JJ seemed to get a knack out of all the food. He even leaned over to you with his mouth full and muttered, “This food is fantastic! My compliments to the chef.”

You half-smiled back in embarrassment and took a spoon-full of your dessert. Thankfully, your mom waltzed over when you were half-way through to ask for your help carrying in the posters and stands from the lobby that displayed all the charity and donation information.

Immediately, you rose and scattered out, away from all the the dense room.

At the front, you began picking up the easel stands to bring inside until you spotted the jet-black locks of the last person you wanted to run into that afternoon. You almost dropped the large items in your hands when he came up to you.

“So, I see you brought Maybank here. Looks like he’s really enjoying himself in there,” Max commented dryly beside you. Mrs. Vega must have asked him for a hand as well.

You winced at the oozing criticism in his voice. It was the first time you had spoken to him one-on-one since the breakup.

”Yeah, we’re, uh, kind of together now,” you mentioned, lugging a display. He grabbed the two remaining and rushed to keep up with you, following you back in.

Out of nowhere, he let out disbelieving laugh, “You can’t be serious, y/n, you and Maybank?”

Taken aback by his brashness, you stopped right before the ballroom doors, frowning. “Yeah,” you shot back sternly, “Why not? I get along with him fine.”

“Doesn’t look like it to me. The guy’s a total tool. I’ve told you that from the beginning. Trust me, I know.”

“Know what? What’s good for me?” you pressed, growing more and more exasperated at the sound of his deep and raspy voice.

It was sexy, no doubt, but just the things that were coming out of his mouth made you want to slap him silly. How dare he prance up to you in his gorgeous light blue Armani suit and tell you what’s good for you!

“I just know who you are, y/n,” he went on calmly, with not an ounce of anger present in his tone, “And JJ’s just not a good guy for you.”

You were seeping with outrage at that point. Hiking in a breath, you spoke with the speckles of tranquility you had left in you. “Well I appreciate your concern, though I hardly understand why you have any for me. But we broke up, Max. You completely lost the right to tell me any of that.”

With that, you furiously stomped into the brunch and set the displays at the front for your mom. Max looked dumbstruck as he trailed behind. But you didn’t care.

“Everything okay? Did something happen with Vega?” JJ asked when you got back to your seat. You remained silent. It was the only way to keep yourself from screaming.

It was all too much— the piercing stares, the messy eating, Max.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” you informed to JJ as he listened to another one of Warren’s football stories, “And then we’re leaving.”

Before he could respond, you were already racing to the bathroom as fast as your Jimmy Choo wedges could take you.

You needed air. And fast.

Bursting through the bathroom door, you heaved yourself into the biggest stall and flopped down on the toilet seat, taking in deep breaths to calm yourself. It didn’t help much. The room was still twirling like you were on the Graviton at a carnival. Too nauseous from it all, you didn’t even care that you were ruining your new white Valentino dress.

You just wanted to hurl inside the antique-decorated bathroom but couldn’t. It was miserable. But at least the bathroom was empty.

All the seeming success of last night crumbled away with every disapproving look or whisper of the guests. And then Max— that fucking asshole. Your head was thumping endlessly as you felt the stress knots crawl up your spine.

What were you thinking? Maybe you were in over your head. No one was believing it. Not for a second.

Even JJ was terrible at playing along. You should’ve known it was just wishful thinking. You knew you had to throw in the towel and told yourself you would call it off once you found some way to stop the hot tears that were streaming down your made-up cheeks.

As you felt your breathing start to normalize, you slowly lifted from the toilet seat and smoothened out your dress. When the bathroom door slammed open against the wall, you immediately fell back down, wanting to avoid any form of human interaction for the rest of your life.

Titters and snickers echoed the air as two girls stumbled in, mid-conversation. They didn’t seem to notice you in the stall at all. Thank God.

“Would you believe y/n? Bringing that dirty Pogue here? She’s gone insane!” A nasally voice spoke by the sinks.

You scrunched your nose, trying to catch a glimpse of their shoes from the opening underneath the stall. You nearly puked. Nameless brand heels? Unacceptable.

“I know! He’s so disgusting and that suit is just repulsive! Does she not have an ounce of embarrassment?” the other one added.

You didn’t recognize their voices, but assumed they probably went to your school by the way they knew you and JJ. A part of you wanted to charge out of the stall and drag their pitiful selves to the ground. But seeing as you were just recovering from a near panic attack, you didn’t have the energy. And they didn’t deserve your breath.

Nevertheless, they still went on.

“Ever since Vega dumped her for California girl, she’s completely gone off the rails. First the hair change and now she’s dating a Pogue like Sarah Cameron is. It’s so pathetic!”

“Seriously, train wreck of the year if you ask me.”

Train wreck? Pathetic? You’ll show them what pathetic is! Especially with those god-awful shoes. Do they have an ounce of embarrassment showing up here with that kind of atrocity?

You were seconds away from emerging from your ashes to put them in their place. But, lucky for them, they escaped before you could come out of confinement.

Huffing, you stormed out of the stall and towards the mirrors to fix yourself. God forbid you’d ever let anyone see you with smeared mascara!

Dabbing a wet cloth on your cheeks to soothe out the redness, you heard the creak of the door opening behind you and immediately tossed it into a bin. You pretended to fix your hair. Fortunately, the redness faded to a soft pink to look like blush.

Anya strolled in the bathroom behind you. Ugh, the cherry on top of the cake.

You faked a tight smile at her. She threw a cheery one at you, walking up the sink next to yours to toss up her bouncy, voluminous hair. “So, I thought you said that guy out there wasn’t you boyfriend,” she pointed out, not taking her eyes off her own reflection.

“Oh, psh, well you know,” you sputtered, not expecting the sudden inquisition, “One thing led to another that night at the Boneyard and it just kinda… happened.”

It was the first real conversation you had with her, and you wanted to hold your breath at the awkwardness. Anya nodded at your answer, puckering her lips slyly. “I just think it’s cute that you’re trying to make Max jealous.”

You almost did a double take. It was so subtle and smooth, her comment almost flew right over your head. “Excuse me?” you shot back, turning to the blonde-haired home-wrecker.

She didn’t even flinch a muscle at your snub expression, just continued to ogle at herself. It was menacing. Evil really did take form in Anya Carmichael.

“Oh, did I need to spell it out for you?” she blinked, “Y/n, you’ve been out of the picture. If you think showing up with that god-awful guy in his dad’s raggedy suit is gonna change Max’s mind about you, I assure you it won’t work.”

She crinkled her eyes in a hateful smile.

What was with people and their audacity that afternoon? Whatever was in their water, you were not about to have any of it. No one spoke to you like that.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you said blandly, wanting to get under her skin.

“Yes you do,” she snarled back, placing both hands on the sink in a threatening manner, “Look. Max and I are together now. You need to get that in your tiny pea-brain head. Do not play dumb with me. I see you looking over at him every five minutes. Get. Over. It.”

“Like I said,” you responded back in a fake-innocent tone just to push her buttons some more, “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Anya. I think all the hairspray is really getting to your head.”

Two can play that game.

She narrowed her almond eyes at you and straightened up proudly. Even though she was way taller than you in her six-inch heels, you still stood your ground, blinking up at her tauntingly. At least your swanky parents taught you that much.

She scoffed. “Give it up, seriously. Using that guy to try to get back at your ex is just pathetic. Max was right about you. You’re just a shallow virgin with a handbag.”

With that, she tossed her hair behind her shoulder and strutted out the door. Your blood was boiling, having half a mind to go out there and rip the bottled-blonde right off her head. You should’ve known it was all an act!

Fuming, you treaded back to the brunch table, your face doing a complete one-eighty once you stepped through the doors. A lady never showed her seething anger underneath.

JJ spotted you and promptly stood up, snatching your purse, and getting ready to leave.

“Sit,” you demanded, pushing him down by the shoulder so his ass plopped back firmly on the chair. The look of utter shock flashed on his face, but he just took it.

“I’m feeling better now. We’re staying,” you informed as if you were a commander at war. You glanced over at the Vegas’ table where Anya hung her arm proudly on Max’s bicep as he made some joke to his table. She threw over a glare at you. No one but you noticed.

You draped an arm on one of JJ’s ridiculously large shoulder pads, nuzzling your nose to his neck. He was still as confused as ever though, but still went along with it, digging his fork into your half-eaten dessert which he later finished.

If Anya wanted a war, you’ll give her one. May the best bitch win.

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

note: YES SHE WENT THERE! you kno i had to stir in anya- y/n drama!!!

pls message me to be tagged!

next chapter

tags: @2kayla64 @jewel25 @rudyypankow @rafecameron @ultranikilove @wicked-laugh @outerbankslut @agirlwholovescoffee @tovvaf @obxlife @ilovejjmaybank @celestialmaybank @erraaxh @poguecollins @jolomez @x-lulu @danicarosaline @teamnick @outerbankslut @sweetlysilent @5am-cigarette @n1ghtsh4d3-67 @duskangxl @hollandary @rudths @meaganjm @bluesiderudy @http-cherries @allycat449-blog @pink-meringues @mendesmaybank @lunaposey @natsiboo @primroswx @wtfkie @heyitsmeimdead @ilymarkchan @drewwbabyy-blog @kookkyra @mayybankz @ifilwtmfc @annedub

#outer banks fanfiction #outer banks imagine #outerbanks #Outer Banks #obx #obx fanfiction #obx imagine #jj obx #jj x reader #JJ Imagine #jj fanfiction #jj #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank x you #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank

287 notes · View notes

serpenteve · 3 years ago

Note

I have been meaning to get this off my chest for a while, but...well. First, I am 100% "ship and let ship" type of person, and I'm also a big multishipper myself. But a certain percentage of M*lina fans have been getting to me because M*l is so very much like an ex who I will call Dave. We were friends, though I was taken for granted and overlooked tho i had low self esteem, so it didn't bother me at the time, and I crushed on him big time. Any scrap of his attention had me floating on cloud 9. Eventually I kinda gave up, got a good job, and started hanging out with a new man in our friend group. I guess Dave got jealous or was angry I no longer gave him constant attention because he then swooped right away in and asked me out. I said yes because i thought it was a dream come true but it was actually a nightmare. He didn't hit me but the emotional stuff...gaslighting, berating me, tearing me down, jealous my job was better than his and my salary higher, hated if I paid any attention to others, never wanted to talk about me only him, controlling, manipulating me so I always thought I was in the wrong and the one causing all the problems in the relationship, I apologized for something every day it felt like. I'm fine now, I left his bitch ass, but it shook me when I read the books because it was so like M*l! And I honest to god don't mind M*lina shippers, but the ones that act as if it is a purely healthy relationship kinda bother me because clearly it isn't...there are thousands of Daves and M*ls out there everywhere, it is not the worst abuse but it is abuse, and it worries me that people think it is acceptable or normal or say "he was just a dumb teenager he didn't know any better" because that is not an excuse, consistent patterns are behaviors that don't magically go away overnight you know? It doesn't need to be the worst blatant abuse to still be toxic/abuse. I adore our girl Alina but it makes me sad because that is my fantasy "what if" if I had stayed (ok that sounds a bit dramatic but that was my first thought haha) sorry for the long rambling, but like I said I just was thinking about all this for a few days and had to get it off my chest. I love your blog and thanks for reading !

I'm so so sorry you went through that 😔 No one deserved to be treated that way and I'm glad you are out of that relationship! Thank you so much for sharing because so much of your experience reminds me a lot of my own.

I grew up in a very cult-ish environment where it was basically expected that the highest role a woman could achieve was a wife and mother. The men were deeply insecure and felt 'emasculated' if their partners dare succeed at anything so they made it their job to constantly tear them down, gaslight them, and shame them for having goals and interests that didn't revolve around a guy. If you were unmarried, you couldn't be seen talking to another guy alone because then people would start talking shit about how you were obviously a whore and your future prospects were ruined 🙄 It was like living in a puritanical Victorian novel where your only value as a woman was to be somebody else's trophy.

I don't mind people shipping M*lina and after watching the show's version of the characters, I would also be a show!M*lina shipper because I really like how Archie has played him and the changes they made to his character. Hopefully, he will still be likable in Season 2, especially since the second book is where most of the problems emerged in full force.

However, people claiming that book!M*l and show!M*l are the same character literally triggers my fight or flight response 😂There was a time I actually considered blocking the ship tag because it's not a great place to be when you've been in a real-life relationship with an asshole like book!M*l and see a bunch of posts from people claiming he's such a great guy. If Alina was a real-life friend and I saw her being treated the way book!M*l treats her, I'd tell her to 👏🏽 DUMP 👏🏽HIS 👏🏽 ASS so fast and cuss him out for being a toxic asshole. No one deserves to put up with the crap Alina did in the books. It's like she did not know that relationships don't have to be that hard and miserable. If she had been allowed to explore other healthier relationships (and I'm not sure she really ever had that option), I can't imagine she'd have settled for M*l.

#censoring the tag because i dont want m*linas to find this fml #cw: abuse #cw: gaslighting #viv answers #anti mal

14 notes · View notes

beastlyanachronism · 4 years ago

Text

Top 5 Ask Game

Top 5 Things you think are Criminally Underrated!

I was tagged by @wolfiejimi for this interesting theme, which really gave me pause for thought. I’ll list my Underrated Things here, and then stick the explanations under the cut.

1. PubCrawler (if you’re a scientist then trust me, you NEED this!)

2. The Horatio Lyle books by Catherine Webb

3. Litolff’s Scherzo

4. The Sheffield Banker, a.k.a. The Case of the Man who was Wanted, a Sherlock Holmes pastiche

5. And All is Said, a really short Star Trek TOS fic

1. PubCrawler is an online service that checks for new scientific publications every day. Basically, you give it your email address and tell it what combinations of keywords you’re interested in. If anything is published on PubMed or GenBank with those keywords, you get a notification by email. It’s extremely simple to use and to fine-tune, and it’s just so handy! Yet very few people seem to know about it. (Gmail tends to think the emails look dodgy, but that’s just because PubCrawler is a very simple not-for-profit automated service set up by a group of academics in Dublin.)

2. The Horatio Lyle books by Catherine Webb

I adored these when I was about 14. A series of four books aimed at young teenagers.

Horatio Lyle is a Victorian scientist-inventor-detective who does NOT believe in magic, which is unfortunate because evil people with magic powers are trying to take over the world. He accidentally sort-of-adopts two children: a “reformed” (oh yeah?) pickpocket named Tess, and the refined and repressed son of an earl, Thomas. This trio has to save the day using science (mostly of the explosive sort). There are cameo appearances from real-life Victorians.

OK, they’re a bit madcap. The plots are unbelievable and sometimes a little hard to follow. BUT. The writing is astonishing. It’s very funny, but also amazingly poetic at times, especially in the second (and best) book, The Obsidian Dagger. The descriptive passages have a Dylan Thomas feel and they read like a love-letter to the London of 1864.

3. Litolff’s Scherzo

Now I’m not a connoisseur of classical music, but this piece belongs with those other famous pieces that everyone just knows, even if they don’t know the name of them. But hardly anybody knows of this one, and I’ve never even heard it in an ad!

It’s basically a one-hit wonder from the 19th century. It’s the most liquid and upbeat piano piece EVER. It’s as if you took a sunlit stream babbling through a sunny meadow, and distilled it into music. It’s how you feel when you’re inspired. Give it a listen. My favourite version is here.

4. The Sheffield Banker, a.k.a. The Case of the Man who was Wanted

This Sherlock Holmes story was found among Conan Doyle’s documents after his death and was at first thought to be an unpublished story by Doyle himself. It then turned out to be the work of a man called Arthur Whitaker, who had sent it to Doyle with the view of a collaboration.

I came across it in The Further Adventures of Sherlock Holmes [Penguin Books]. If you read up on it, everyone dismisses it as a mediocre pastiche that doesn’t live up to the canon.

Well, I consider it canon. It’s more enjoyable than several of ACD’s stories. In fact, it has the best Holmes-Lestrade interactions of any SH story I’ve read.

Lestrade starts off as self-assured as usual:

Lestrade gave me a wink for which I would dearly have liked to have knocked him down, for I could see that he disbelieved my friend.

but of course he winds up baffled. There is a delightful moment when he shows up at 221B and explains that the man he was supposed to capture seemed to have vanished into thin air.

Lestrade’s face [...] bore a look of the most hopeless bewilderment I ever saw, and I fancy my own must have pretty well matched it, but Holmes threw himself back in his easy chair, with his long thin legs stuck straight out in front of him, his whole frame literally shaking with silent laughter. "What conclusion have you come to?" he gasped at length. "What steps do you propose to take next?"

"I've no idea. Who could know what to do? The whole thing is impossible, perfectly impossible; it's an insoluble mystery. I came to you to see if you could, by any chance, suggest some entirely fresh line of inquiry upon which I might begin to work."

"Well," said Holmes, cocking his eye mischievously at the bewildered Lestrade, "I can give you Booth's present address, if it will be of any use to you?"

"His what!" cried Lestrade.

And then of course Holmes solves the case, and there is a heart-warming moment:

Lestrade rose. "Mr. Holmes, you're a brick," he said, with more real feeling than I have ever seen him show before.

The whole story is Holmes at his sassiest and snarkiest. I mean what more could you want? It’s available online here.

5. And All is Said, by ivory_leigh

This is the most underrated Star Trek fic that I’m aware of. It only has a kudos of 83 on AO3, and yet it manages to summarise the whole mcspirk relationship... in just 434 words!

"Underrated things” is a great topic for this sort of ask game, so if anyone else would like to list their underrated things, consider yourself tagged! Maybe @educatedinyellow and @stormphoenix, if you’re interested? Also @wolfiejimi maybe you’d like to do this one yourself too?

#horatio lyle #litolff's scherzo #arthur whitaker #inspector lestrade #pubcrawler #ask game #unmitigated bleat

7 notes · View notes

virginbutstillahoe · 5 years ago

Text

Positive 20 Questions Tag Game

i made a tag game again. i’m bored, procrastinating, and certain we all need some more positivity right now. hell yeah.

1.) Name 4 fictional characters who showcase your personality the best, with explanations if you want.

- dean winchester (supernatural): i never shut up about his but dean is me y’all. we both be out here, acting like we’re tough when we’re just jelly filled dorks, being nurturing as hell, making jokes to cheer people up, with a constant chip on our shoulders, and secretly just wanting someone to love us and love someone back.

- maria vontrapp (sound of music): i know she’s not technically a fictional character since that’s based on a true story but whatever. you know what i could name everything about her, but i won’t bc who has time for that. basically just fucking listen to the song “maria” from that movie where all the nuns roast her and you’ve basically got my personality wrapped in a bow for you. just an innocent ass train wreck that just wants to love everyone but doesn’t realize that manners are a thing. that song is so me that my family used to sing it at me when i was little and they still do. also when she blows the whistle obnoxiously at the captain and is just like “lol sorry captain didn’t know how i was supposed to address you :)))” super passive aggressively, me.

- tracy samantha lorde (the philadelphia story): okay she’s definitely classier and fancier than me but, the real vulnerable shit underneath all of her grace and beauty is samesies. she basically is so intolerant of people being anything less than perfect because she’s so afraid of people getting close to her and seeing her flaws....cough cough. she keeps everyone at a distance because she doesn’t want to get hurt. lmao.

- lilo (lilo and stitch): another fictional character that my family needed to point out was me at every turn. my older sister and i actually used to say ohana to each other before bed because she was so similar to nani and i’m so similar to lilo and we fight EXACTLY like them. lilo is just a little outcast who, once again, just loves everyone and wants to be seen and loved for who she is, but has such a hard time connecting to people because they don’t understand her and her aggressive way of showing her intense emotions. my mama still calls me lilo sometimes. i have a lilo plushie on my bed and a lilo sticker on my laptop bc i love her and she gets me.

2.) Aesthetic?

- bright colors, ocean waves, dirty and torn clothing, and wildflowers.

3.) Favorite musical/play? (If you’ve never seen a musical or play, one you’d be interested in seeing?

- into the woods. it was phantom of the opera for most of my childhood and teenage years, but into the woods really just goes after the life metaphors and really makes you think about the difference between right, wrong, and gray areas. like there’s a song about how adventure changes you and makes you view the world differently. there’s another about how somewhere between mundane and perfect is where the best parts of life lie. there’s another all about how important children are and how vital it is that you are careful what you say and do around them. it just goes the fuck off.

4.) What is the best compliment you’ve ever received?

- “you think about the world in ways i never thought were possible”

5.) How many times have you been in love?

- kind of 1? i’ve been into the same person my whole life but i’m constantly debating myself on if unrequited love can count as being in love with someone you’re actually with, if that makes sense?

6.) Embarrassing story or fact about yourself that makes you laugh now?

- when i was little, i secretly wanted to be an actress on broadway, so when i was home alone and would watch movies, i would pick a character in the movie and act out their parts as i watched like a crazy person lol.

7.) Favorite Disney/Pixar movie?

- favorite disney movie is lilo and stitch for reasons mostly mentioned in the first question, but the family doesn’t get left behind or forgotten and the outcast is not unloveable they’re just misunderstood messages just send me and really helped baby molly. how obvious is it that i’m a giant sucker for an interesting message?

8.) Favorite flower or plant?

- black eyed susans. they’re a wild flower with a similar beauty to daisies, but with a little bit of darkness in them.

9.) What’s your favorite holiday?

- christmas biiiiiiitch. it’s the one time of year i’m not worried that my house is haunted and i get to sing all the time and people don’t find it weird or annoying. the snow is not the best but everything else makes up for it.

10.) Name three things that made you laugh or smile this past week.

- when i was laying in the grass today, a little tiny robin hopped over to me and whistled at me and it was a magical experience

- i realized i only have 3 more weeks of school until this hell semester is over

- my mom made my bed on top of me and if you’ve never had someone do that to you before, did you have a childhood? are you okay? also find someone to do it to you right now.

11.) What song would you play to introduce yourself to someone?

- either "thank you for the music” by abba or from mamma mia depending on the kind of person you are, or i guess the song “maria” that i mentioned before lmao

12.) Name something that truly makes you feel peaceful even at your most stressed moments.

- laying down in the grass on a nice sunny day and just listening the sounds of birds, bugs, and other surrounding noises.

13.) What do you, did you, or would you study at college?

- i am currently working on my masters degree in special education for elementary school ages. i will probably go back and get a second masters in school counseling to help students with special needs who are in traumatic situations or are mistreated at home.

14.) This is kind of a weird one, but which outfit of yours makes you feel most like yourself?

- my emotional support outfit as my friends call it is my toy story pajama pants with my guiness sweatshirt from ireland

15.) What is a quote you live by?

- be fiercely and ferociously yourself.

i have also recently started to follow “you’ve got to lighten up, it’s just life.”

16.) Name the funniest playlist name you have.

- “the chocolate ganache” and i called it that because it’s full of songs that represent my soul and personality and chocolate ganache is what i like to think my filling would be if i was a cake.

17.) Make a reference to an inside joke you have with someone you love with zero context.

- bob hope and bing crosby

18.) What is a message you would give your younger self if given the chance?

- if someone doesn’t like you for who you are, tell them to fuck directly off.

19.) Who is your favorite family member? (If you have no good blood family members, feel free to mention someone in your found family)

- my late grandfather. i called him papa and he was basically my father. he was smart, cuddly, serious, fiercy loving, and kind of dorky, but he was the best and i miss him every day.

20.) What’s a secret dream of yours?

- my childhood dream mentioned above still kinda lingers around in my brain from time to time, but i know it’s not possible for me.

tagging my friends (or at least i’d like to think we’re friends lmao) @navajolovesdestiel @victorian-sexstache @missjojo96 @multifandom-fanatic @day-fire @baby-in-a-trenchcoat7 @green-eyes-and-classic-rock, and @thetiredstuff and literally anyone else who wants to play. for real.

if i didn’t tag you and you play, please tag me! i’d love to read through yours!

if i did tag you and you’re intimidated by the size of this and have decided, “fuck that noise” i respect you and i get it no hard feelings (:

#my post #tag game #about me #i know it's a longin so if you don't want to it's all good buddy #but i would really love it if you played #even if you weren't tagged bc who cares if you're tagged or not #certainly not me

7 notes · View notes

lil-nest · 5 years ago

Text

TU vs VOUS, a quick guide

Hello, French learning friends! I’ve seen many people try and often fail to explain when you should use “tu” or “vous” in French, and for the longest time, I couldn’t find a reliable rule myself. However, a completely unrelated Ted Talk about communication and collaboration in human society helped me finally put my finger on the underlying pattern I could sense but not explain.

Now, before we begin, this post will be long. It is a “quick” guide not because reading it will be quick, but because once you have read it, deciding between “tu” and “vous” will (hopefully) be quick.

Introduction: On communication and collaboration in human society

First, as soon as I find the link again, there shall be a link in this sentence to the Ted talk I mentioned, it is mildly relevant to this introduction, completely irrelevant to French politeness in general, and pretty cool regardless.

Okay, so. Do you know what is super cool about human society? Our ability to communicate and then cooperate with total strangers with the help of social scripts. And it’s not even just basic cooperation like handed a bill to a cashier in exchange for a liter of milk. For example: last month, I was sick. So I went to the doctor. It was my first time meeting this particular doctor. And yet, before we even met, we had managed to agree to a meeting time. Then, I let a complete stranger poke at my throat and ears, trusting that he would not hurt me. Meanwhile, he put his finger near my very numerous and sharp teeth, trusting that I would not bite him.

Crazy right? You will probably answer “of course not!”. Because society has taught us that it is (most often) safe for Patients to let themselves be poked by Doctors, and that it is (usually) safe for Doctors to poke Patients without fear of being attacked.

Now, what you must remember for the rest of this is the way I capitalized Doctor and Patient. Because despite being both complete and complex people, for the duration of this appointment we were interacting as a Doctor and a Patient. We were both filling social roles in a socially scripted situation, and everything went smoothly because we both trusted the other would do it too.

There is, of course, another type of interaction, which happens between two people who know each other, (mostly) off the script, where things go smoothly because we know each other, and can predict what the other wild want, do or say and act accordingly. For example, if my sister decides to poke my cheeks, I trust that she won’t hurt me, because I know her, and she trusts that I will be careful not to harm her when I swat her hand away.

You see how different those two situations are? Situations like my visit to the doctor will be put into one big category of “Society is what enables us to trust and cooperate” and situations like my play-fight with my sister will be “Personal connection is what enables us to trust and cooperate” (There are probably real sociologic words for these things, but my knowledge comes mainly from science popularization, which often shies away from big words)

This distinction is important, because people are incredibly complex, and there is neither enough power nor enough storage space in our brains to consider every single person we interact with like Complex People. Instead, we create roles and stereotypes (some of which are bad, most of which are necessary - try to live your lives refusing to assume the nicely dressed people with silver plates in the restaurant are the waiters).

How do I get tu vs vous from this?

Well it’s easy, just ask yourself: Are we talking/interacting as Complex People or as Social Roles?

If you are talking as People, use “tu”. If you are talking as Social Roles, use “vous”.

Examples:

*)Checking out milk at the corner store. You are customer #172, they are Cashier #3, use “vous”.

UNLESS the cashier happens to be your BFF. Then, upon seeing them, your first thought will not be “This is a Cashier” but “This is my Friend, who happens to be a cashier”. Even though the situation should call for Social Roles, your brain overrides this by pointing out the Person hidden behind the Role: you should probably use “tu”.

*)Talking to your BFF: this is your BFF. You know each other like the back of your hands. “tu” is your best choice.

UNLESS you want to be very formal, but using vous for your BFF is like calling your husband “mister”. It’s funny if you’re doing it ironically, otherwise it will make the people around you feel like they are in Victorian England.

*)you just joined a knitting club: use “vous”, but because clubs are about socializing, you will most likely be told to use “tu”, and be quietly expected to tell people to call you “tu” too -in general, if someone tells you to use “tu”, especially during introductions, it’s better to reciprocate - this is because while you found the club thanks to Social Roles, the people in the club wish to become Complex People with other members, so you use “tu” not because you are already a complex person to these people, but because they are allocating the space in their brain for you to become one once you have gotten to know each other.

In a way, “tu” vs “vous” is a lot like first name vs last name vs title + last name. But since first/last name conventions are wildly different from country to country the comparison isn’t very helpful. Just note that usually in France, the people you call “tu” are the same people you call by first name, and the people you call “vous” are the same people you call “mister/miss/missus X” (note that “mademoiselle”, the French word for “miss”, is best avoided until you’re confident in your knowledge of the hows and whys of it, for reasons related to sexism which I will not get into because this post is long enough, just use “madame” for all women and if they don’t like it they’ll ask you to call them mademoiselle instead, no big deal)

Now if you only wanted the rule of thumb you may stop here, but I also added a bit about how and when mixing them might offend people, and another about exceptions and ambiguous cases, if you’re curious.

When and how choosing the wrong pronoun(?) will offend

Before I start on the exceptions, let me give you a general idea of what happens when you get it wrong, so you can decide what risks to take when you hesitate.

Now, obviously, in most cases, messing up will just result in being kindly told to use the other one, because causing a scene about it is most often a rude thing to do, especially if the person you are talking to is aware that you are not a native speaker. BUT regardless of how the other person reacts, the confusion might make them feel upset, and we’re trying to avoid that because we are kind people.

Now, if you call “tu” someone who was expecting you to call them “vous”, they will feel disrespected. The idea is that calling someone “tu” is a sign of familiarity and knowing each other. The person will feel as though you think yourself much closer to them than you actually are. In the words I used earlier, calling someone “tu” is claiming you are interacting with them as Real Complex People. If the person you’re talking to was just seeing you - and wanted you to see them - as a Social Role (Coworker, or Neighbour, or Literal Stranger Asking For The Time) they will feel as though you are trying to force yourself in a private social circle you weren’t invited in. This is why common responses (or internal rant) to being wrongfully called “tu” are along the lines of “you don’t KNOW me” or “I’m not your friend”.

For those it might interest (fic writers) asking someone to call you “vous” when they used to call you “tu” is a way of saying “we are now strangers” with irreproachable formality. Think of the Drama. Also if you feel like someone is acting in an overly familiar manner with you, ask them politely to call you “vous”. If they’re decent people and didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, they will understand the underlying request and correct their behavior. If they cause a scene, treat them like you would treat a guy who makes a scene because a girl in the street refused to give him her number.

However, if you call “vous” someone who expected you to call them “tu”, it is generally less likely to offend, because like all things concerning human relationships, if one person feels close to another, but the other doesn’t, the two people are considered “not close”. It might lead to disappointment or hurt, though, because being called “vous” when you were expecting “tu” means the other person doesn’t feel as close to you as you expected, and it can be a bit disheartening.

Note that that situation is different from the situation where you are a stranger to the other person but they ask you to call them “tu” because they wish to make the Social Role situation into a Complex People situation, or at least pretend to do so (this is most often seen at work, when your boss asks you tu call them “tu” for “team morale” or stuff, or things like vacation camps and stuff where the guides ask you to call them “tu” to avoid making the trip feel stiff and formal). In this situation the person you’re talking expected you to call them “vous” and hence do not have any kind of hurt feelings.

Exceptions and ambiguous cases

Now that you know the basics, let me tell you about all the ways everything I just told you is wrong. I mean, us French have several proverbs about how our all the rules in our language have exceptions, and this one has plenty.

The first exception is kids. My only advice for kids is “do your best not to use pronouns to them until you’ve heard someone else do it”. The general rule is that at least until they’re teenagers kids should call all non-friends “vous” and everyone should call kids “tu”. For teenagers you do literally whatever you want - people who call teenager “vous” usually do it in order to say “I take you seriously and I don’t think you deserve less respect than an adult”. Some teenagers see this and are happy about it, but you might get mocked. Also, note that more uptight and traditional families will expect their kids to be called “vous” - this might be useful to remember if you become an Au Pair or something.

The second related exception is post-BAC/university students. There the rules are simple:

-your classmates are all “tu”. Yes, even if you’ve never talked to them because your “class” if a “promotion” of 100 people. If they’re in the classroom with you and not teaching it’s “tu”. An exception might be made if you are An Actual Adult who went back to school as opposed to a Young Adult who never left it, but they tend to insist on being called “tu” too. Fellow students who are not in your class are will probably not care. Most student will go with “tu” in that wase, but I usually go with “vous” because being overly formal is how I cope with social anxiety.

-PhD students who do teaching for lower grade students (I think in the US they’re called TAs?) will call them “tu”. Lower grade student will decide on “tu” or “vous” depending on whether the PhD student is acting like “I Am Your Teacher” or “I Am An Older Student Here To Share My Knowledge”. If you hesitate “vous” will not be out of place.

-Teachers will expect to be called “vous” and whether they call students “tu” or “vous” is a coin flip. If the teacher calls you “tu” and is just being friendly, let them, but if they are being uncomfortably familiar with your, don’t hesitate to put an entitled expression and very formally ask them to call you “vous”. If they’re decent they won’t cause a scene, if they get angry it should be an alarm bell. (see above section). Once again, people who are not Young Adults will be called “vous”, even by teachers who call the Young Adults “tu”. (There might be something uncool about the way young adults who are students get treated like teenagers more than like other adults, but often they don’t consider themselves “real grown-ups” either, and either way it’s not the point of the post)

The third exception is about hierarchy: sometimes someone who is above you in a hierarchical environment will feel entitled to call you “tu” while demanding to be called “vous”. In any context other than university this is disrespectful and you should know it. It’s okay if you don’t feel comfortable calling them out, but know that you deserve better.

Ambiguous situations are usually either:

a)”We only interact via society roles but we do it often and a lot so we befriended each other and now we don’t know whether to keep using “vous” or switching to “tu”” - this is often the case among coworkers who slowly got to know each other. It’s best to have a conversation about it, even though it might feel a little awkward.

b)You are introduced to someone via a common friend, but you do not have a relationship with the person outside of the common friend. The best-known case if your In-laws -once again, just ask.

#french #linguistics #tu vs vous #long post #fellow french people and actual sociologists are welcome to make addition #also note that I can only vouch for france French #even only metropolitan france French #so if DROM-COM and non-France French speakers have experiences to share #they're very welcome

19 notes · View notes

manifestoonmoralmanlove · 5 years ago

Text

Gormless Ch. 11 – I’m Korma for you, imperialistic dogs

A well-meaning friend gave me a book series that is hilariously bad. The first book was Souless and my riffs were entitled brainless. This second book is entitled Changless and these riff are then gormless.

I mean to say I have entitled them gormless! Not that my riffs are dumb, and the effort I spend on them stupid since I’m the only one who enjoys them. HAHA!

The story is SUPPOSED TO be about how a badass lady wearing a rad-looking carriage dress hits baddies with her umbrella and bangs her hot werewolf husband. In reality it’s mostly poor attempts at being witty, flirty, and superior.

For the last book check out the brainless tag.

If you want the TL;DR version but want to read these new riffs anyway?

This story is set in supernatural Victorian steampunk England. Alexia is our NOT LIKE OTHER GIRLS protag. She is a soulless, which means she’s able to negate the abilities of vampires and werewolves by touching them. She’s recently married a big oaf, named Lord Connel Maccon. He’s the manchild in charge of the supernatural police with a zillion dollars and he’s totes super hot too ok. Their relationship is mostly arguments about how Maccon can’t tell her fucking anything. Alexia has also recently become head of ~Soulless affairs~ in Queen Victoria’s government. She has a dumb friend named Ivy, a gay vampire friend named Akeldama, a family who’s evil because they do the same shit as her but while being blonde, and most importantly Alexia is better than everyone cause…cause.

Last time on Gormless:

There’s some mysterious force that’s turning the Vampires and werewolves into humans. Alexia is in charge of figuring out that deal, and she is doing a bad job at it. They are at her husband’s old pack castle about it. Are they hiding something?????

Chapter 11 – I’m Korma for you, imperialistic dogs

Okay despite my grumblings on the lack of shit that happened last chapter. This chapter comes in HOT! And by HOT, I mean RACIST!

Basically everybody is taking a leisurely walk in the garden. Ivy asks the military bros about, “how brave they are to fight the ~primitives~ in India.”

HAHA OKAY! LET’S JUST KEEP TRUCKING!

Maccon says it’s just minor pacification at this point, thus implying that he’s done the same sort of business which is super good and great.

Oh but here’s a big old sticking point for me, one of the military bros says the food in India is terrible. I will preface this by saying I have only probably had ~Americanized~ Indian food from restaurants or used generic recipe websites. So we can have a discussion on whether I have had ~authentic~ Indian food and if ~authentic~ food is even a thing.

BUT INDIAN FOOD IS ONE OF THE MOST WELL-RESPECTED CUISINES IN THE WORLD, AND BRITISH PEOPLE, RIGHTLY LOVE IT! WHAT I HAVE HAD HAS BEEN UTTERLY INCREDIBLE AND I WHAT LITTLE I KNOW ABOUT IT MAKES IT IMPRESSIVE AND WONDERFUL AND GO FUCK YOURSELF!

THIS IS A HILL I WILL DIE ON! I don’t delete comments for much but if anybody comments on this chapter with even, “Indian food is just okay” COMMENT DELETED!

In this story’s defense, perhaps they think the food is bad because the Indian individuals preparing food for the exploitative brutes just took a dump on a plate and put a leaf on top.

Okay so while I fantasized about rubbing vindaloo directly into the eyes of these dipshit characters I continued…Alexia gets snippy with these military bros…but not over any of the racist horseshit, she tries to start shit over them describing Egyptian and Indian weather as hot. And maybe the author is trying to take pot-shots at these fuckers, but like why is she making snippy comments about how they describe the FUCKING weather instead of standing up for Indian people? Also Ivy was the one who started by calling them ~primitives~ but she’s not concerned with Ivy at all. Also don’t @ me with whore shit like, “Well Ivy is supposed to be dumb” dumb people aren’t automatically racist fuck off.

We move on to find out that the Kingair pack STOLE ARTIFACTS including ACTUAL FUCKING MUMMIES from Egypt when they passed through. THANKFULLY there is a blip of sanity when Maccon says that’s illegal.

Yet it gets SO MUCH WORSE when Alexia proposes a good old fashioned

MUMMY UNWRAPPING PARTY!

Which everybody gets super excited about. Those by the way were REAL THINGS in Victorian England. JUST IN CASE YOU NEEDED TO KNOW!

Maccon and Alexia go aside a moment where Alexia says the humanization is obviously coming from the artifacts they brought back and that Maccon should have them confiscated since they are illegally gained. They go back and forth about what to DO with them once they’re confiscated, and both agree that destroying them would be a bad idea…but they don’t bring up the fact you could I DON’T KNOW just return them to the country of origin? HAHA okay.

They head back to the castle and LeFoux, in proper dramatic fashion, is racing toward them saying some cliffhanger shit like, “10 dramatic turns this book could take but won’t! #7 will shock you!” But before she’s able post some hilarious reaction memes she gets SHOT in the back! DUN DUN DUN!

Then they’re getting shot at and hiding behind the umbrella cause THAT’S FOOL-PROOF but eventually are able to get everybody inside the castle.

And here they just forget anything interesting was going to happen.

Nobody seems concerned with combing the castle to find the gunman in one of these towers. I have done a few active shooter drills at my place of work, and you know what’s a big part of that? If the shooter isn’t found just literally forget about them. What could be the harm?

Instead they fuss over LeFoux with Alexia wondering, “Was she really shot? Is she faking? Is she behind all of this?” And it’s like YOU LEGIT JUST WATCHED HER GET SHOT AND WHILE SHE WAS ON THE GROUND MORE BULLETS WERE WHIZZING BY YOU! EVEN IF SHE IS, IT SEEMS LIKELY THERE IS SOMEONE ELSE INVOLVED! By the way when I say fussed over there is no description of them bandaging any wounds or anything. They don’t state outright here but in next chapter they talk about how it’s all tranquilizer bullets. It’d be nice if they mentioned it...you know this chapter. It honestly felt like they had just propped a woman bleeding out in a chair and talked about how she’s probably behind her own impending death.

This would have been a great moment dramatic moment for them to expose LeFoux’s neck for Maccon to see the Hypocras tattoo. Imagine Maccon losing his shit that they let a Hypocras Crony in their mist, and when he finds out Alexia had seen the tattoo before, gets even loonier. Alexia is ashamed that the intimacy she shared with LeFoux was perhaps cheating mixed with the shame of same-sex attraction, and kept her around in hopes that she could learn something more about her deceased father from her but instead just endangered everyone.

WASTED OPPORTUNITY!

Alexia then sneaks off to chat with Sidheag. When Alexia first met Sidheag she made a mental note of instantly liking her. This conversation starts with Alexia mentally stating that she’s ~decided to hate her.~ BITCH OVER WHAT? You’re being treated well in this castle, and she’s been polite despite you insulting her castle at every fucking turn. Alexia just hasn’t been hitting that self-misogyny quota!

Let’s start with the good part of this conversation. Alexia asks Sidheag about how she feels about what her great granddad did to the clan. Sidheag says she was 16 and off at school when it happened. (Though at one point Alexia says that Sidheag is not holding a tea cup right and thus implies she never went to finishing school at all…and it’s like…are you trying to throw a seed of doubt that she’s lying about everything? I mean that’s cool but like I think it’s kinda a big jump from ~holds tea cup in different way.~)

Anyway while Sidheag agrees with his politics, she thinks he could have handled it better. She suggests he should have killed/kicked out more of the top members involved in the attempted murder instead of just skipping town entirely. I was surprised to see the author give this situation more depth than just, “MACCON IS RIGHT ABOUT EVERYTHING CAUSE HE IS BEST MAN!” So that’s the good part.

It seems odd that Maccon only punished 1 person despite it being a clan-wide problem. When Sidheag got back from school he put her and her boyfriend (whom was not part of the clan) in charge and everything just went peachy after that. REALLY? Seems to me the bitter leftovers from that dispute would really fucking resent a teenage human grandchild of the big bad ex-leader who hadn’t been spending much time there and her no-name boyfriend showing up to run things. If they were going to kill a queen, it doesn’t seem below them to murder the two of them, especially with nobody there to protect them.

BUT THE FUCK DO I KNOW?

Most of the conversation is more of the “I WANT GRANDADDY TO TURN ME INTO A WEREWOLF!” Which…we had that conversation before, but at least Alexia decides she wants to support her in this. Maccon is cranky when brought up but understands. Their room is ransacked, but her bag is safe. Alexia thinks that what LeFoux wanted to tell her probably involved the Aethongrapher, but she decides NOT to check it out cause ??????????? Maccon says that Tunstell brought him a special gun and they get ready for dinner. The chapter ends with Alexia making the super clever deduction that Maccon has had the ulterior motive of trying to ~fix~ his old pack.

And wow holy shit there Alexia

Sooooooo smart! This is something that really needed to be pointed out too! Greaaaaaaaaaat.

This is especially infuriating due to how it’s written Full quote:

“…You must agree I have a point.”

He turned to frown up at her. “I hate it when you come over all correct.”

Alexia trotted down the staircase until they were nose to nose. She had to stand one step up from him for it to be so. She kissed him softly. “I know. But I am so very good at it.”

She’s praised for the deduction that didn’t even need to be stated, smugs up the place, and the fucking line, “Come over all correct.” MAYBE IT’S JUST ME BUT THESE SAD ATTEMPTS OF TRYING TO SOUND PERIOD APPROPRIATE MAKE ME WANT TO YARF!

Also let me point out that Maccon has only started drama, gotten into a fist-fight, and try to or have sex with his wife the entire time he’s been there. Alexia has actually done more than he has for the clan and she hasn’t even been trying.

OH YEAH AND WE JUST GONNA FORGET SOMEONE GOT SHOT AND THE SHOOTER IS HANGING OUT IN THE CASTLE WITH YOU ALL RIGHT NOW? OKAY SURE?

Say something nice Faps:

At least something fucking happened this chapter.

I do genuinely like how Sidheag disagrees with how her great grandfather did things and she’s not demonized for it…at least not yet. I will dunk myself in boiling oil if it’s revealed that SIDHEAG IS BIG BAD CAUSE OF NOT HOLDING A TEA CUP RIGHT.

Sidheag is cool, can we not pick on her ever again?

Super looking forward to do aggressive racism of the mummy unwrapping party y’all!

#changless #gormless #riffs #riffing

1 note · View note

a-writing-bear · 6 years ago

Text

[AmeriPan - Permission To Date]

This is a Request fic written for @lonelymarblesoda !

Note: I am so very flattered by your sweet compliments! I hope you enjoy this fic as much as I did writing it. It was a great stress reliever for me and your prompt was very cute that I got carried away with fluff honestly <3 Sorry there’s more dialogue than intended!

Ao3 Link:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/16009922

This Has been cross-posted onto FF & Ao3 under Aliases: BearBooper

You can read this Fic on Tumblr under ‘Keep Reading’

Fandom: Hetalia Axis Powers

Pairing: America and Japan

Word Count: 2,742

Age Rating/Mature: All Audiences :)

Prompt: “Howdy, I'm the anon from earlier! Sorry for being shy (^^;) Since you're still taking requests, I was wondering if you were willing to do a fluffy ameripan fanfic where their relationship is revealed at a world meeting (or something along those lines)? Ψ(´▽｀)Ψ”

With an exhausted sigh and soft smile, Alfred pulled into the driveway of his Virginia home; the ignition silencing as he crossed his arms and rested his head on the now-still driving wheel, gazing upon his tall red brick house. Amused at the pristine garden and the open porch - This was another estate that his Government had preened and made proper, All the way to a point where it almost looked too perfect off a pamphlet. Unlike his apartment in New York, this house had been filled with some sort of personalisation yet Alfred still felt no completeness towards it. Alexandria was an old but beautiful charming town and it felt fitting to have his work home so close to DC. It was embarrassing to admit its old Victorian real estate made him feel much calmer compared to other parts of the city, A piece of his past residing within the restored cobbled paths.

His little thoughts drifted away as he slowly got out the car, humming to himself. It was a short drive back from work and after a long day of going over tomorrow's preparations made him gutsy and giddy. Tomorrow he'd have to fly into New York for a UN Personification meeting - undoubtedly with the expectation to make some more pesky deals and fix it what was going on with discussions of some new global catastrophes. Ah. One more look at his front door he delved into the wish he was a normal person. He wouldn't have to deal with such messes if that were the case.

However, he thought as he jammed his key into the mahogany door, there was one good thing about having a meeting tomorrow...

"Hey, I'm home!" His voice rang out loudly and through the living room doorway he heard a ruffling and a quieter voice muffled through what he assumed was a pillow.

"Welcome home.." Whenever they had a New York UN meetup, Kiku had an excuse to come over early and spend some more couple time. They weren't exactly the conventional couple who could enjoy each other's company constantly but he supposed this was enough. He wouldn't want to take Japan away from his livelihood anyway.

The blond padded his way to the living room after shedding his coat and shuffling off his boots. His smile growing wider as he finds Kiku lazing around on the comfy couch in his bright red sweats with Pochi on his chest. Plopping down onto the couch, nearly on the Japanese man's legs, He pulled Pochi off carefully. The hairy creature wriggling in his arms huffed as he released it onto the floor; Obviously, Pochi was not as excited to see him as the creature scampered off somewhere further into the house. Kiku had insisted on bringing his dog over as it would whimper without him. America Leaned down, almost tipping over to lay on his boyfriend.

"Have you been laying here all day Keeks?" locks of hairs splayed onto the shorter man's shirt as Alfred squirmed his way to lie down beside him- it was quite cramped and a miracle he didn't push Japan straight off his tiny couch.

Kiku opened his eyes, the charcoal eyes seemed to dull as he stared unamused at the man who had wormed his arms onto him. Kiku never really was that good with cuddling but he made compromises for his affectionate American lover.

"No. I did work for tomorrow and called the embassy to forward some papers back to Japan," he whispered as he craned his head over to Alfred's face. The two basked in each other’s embrace for a while as the American sneaked in a few kisses while talking about their days, Japan lamenting the lack of interesting tv shows to watch and Alfred venting about the new intern who spilt coffee in his office. Comfort hung in the air happily.

The two spent the evening packing up work papers and tapping away at tiny shiny laptops, documents astray across the bed in preparation for tomorrow. Alfred had just finished and settled under his comforter while watching Keeks still typing away, legs crossed on the blanket and brow furrowed in concentration when it hit him.

He hadn’t told any of his closest allies about his newfound relationship (well- newly established, he and Keeks had been dancing around each other for centuries). Should he be freaking out over this detail? In terms of relationship milestones, Immortals such as them had very few; living long left very little opportunities for firsts and to be honest getting a stable relationship wasn't a thing people like them did. He'd admit, he was the one who would make a deal out of these sorta events whereas Japan was more reserved of their close relationship. Alfred gulped, thinking hard whether or not it was necessary to say the words that were already spilling from his lips

"Can I tell Matthew about us?" clicking and clacking came to a halt and Kiku had looked up but still ahead, gazing at the painting opposite him hanging loosely on the wall - some Italian painting obviously gifted by Feli. America felt disappointed all of a sudden, letting out a breath he didn't realise he had captured. Maybe he should have left the topic for another day. A few seconds later Kiku had resumed typing on what looked like some new policy proposal and with absently minded disinterest had replied with so much but a passing glance.

"He already knows Al.” voice slightly airy with cocky amusement as Alfred spluttered and shifted in the shared bed. Kiku suddenly felt uncomfortable as he felt cerulean blue depths bury themselves into his back; shutting his laptop and discarding it on the bedside table he fell backwards onto the feather pillow next to his boyfriend - the word felt foreign on his tongue (A bit immature? Boyfriend sounded kiddy.). For a while, they exchanged nothing but awkward glances before Alfred caved and intertwined his palm with Kiku’s.

“You know I’m traditional. I had to ask him if he would all-”

“You asked my brother if you had permission to date me?!” Kiku’s blank face did nothing but Make Alfred laugh even harder. “Kiku. We aren’t like- we aren’t teenagers. I’m literally hundreds of years old, fuck your Millions-” the black haired man shrunk further into the bed in annoyance of his age and quickly pushed a pillow between himself and his cackling lover.

“It’s how I do things. It’s polite and you're brother was kind about it. Did he not tell you?” Alfred threw the pillow barrier towards the bottom of the bed before scooting over closer to the Japanese man, who was getting more embarrassed and flustered by the minute.

“Nah. Mattie knows when there are times I don’t need to know things. I’m surprised that’s all.” he felt breathlessly in love and voiceless with contentedness at the other nation’s admission. It felt oddly nice to be…’courted’ in such an old way. “Besides, If anything, I expected you to bring it up with old man Artie or even Francis…”

Kiku turned, puzzled expression painted prettily on his face- which was only inches away from Alfred’s. “...I’m not marrying you. Why would I ask Mr Eng-”

A pillow cut him off unexpectedly as Alfred nearly fell off the bed in complete hilarity. Kiku was about to pout and say something more. With a few attempts at explaining why there was no point to marriage due to their immortality, Kiku floundered. As he peeked over the edge of where America had fallen off, he himself broke into a small smile. Alfred’s glasses had gone askew and were currently red in the face from the overexerting giggles. As the pair quieted down for the night they felt secure; Tomorrow would be fine, for now, America just wanted a cuddle.

Alfred’s feet tapped violently as he basically bounced off each step of his creaky staircase. Bounding off into the kitchen to pack some last minutes notes he had left on a table. He shouted out impatiently:

“KEEKS COME ON! WE’VE GOT TO GET TO NEW YORK!” he was in a complete flurry as he zoomed around, enthusiastic and frantic to get to their private plane on time- his bosses would skewer him if he delayed any longer, and no doubt Japan’s embassy would be in a fit if he were late too.

Speaking of the Asian nation, the man himself with all the grace and peace in the world came down. Dressed in a western style suit, Kiku readjusted his red tie and tutted himself for his messy morning hair, stoic glance nitpicking every corner of his newly tailored clothes. At the sight of Kiku’s very neat and smart look, Alfred swooned a little, puppy eyes widening as he quickly stole a kiss - which was received with a red face and another ‘tsch’ of shyness - before pushing his cute partner out the door and practically throwing both their briefcases into the car. The plane ride was uneventful and even when the planes kissed the clouds the only view that captivated the Alfred was the silly way Kiku had tried to keep himself occupied; sudoku books were the way to go apparently.

As the other nations began to file in, one by one, Alfred appeased his boss’s anxiety by greeting them all, including old-time allies such as the NATO nations and even the newer ambassadors. Japan had been lost in the mix, both had agreed to carry on as if they had entered separately - not because they didn’t want to show off, but instead to avoid making it difficult to sort out guest arrangements. Alfred fiddled with his watch as he made his own way to the front of the table. Familiar faces filled the large room. England had already buried his desk area with paper as France somehow charmed an admin into getting him a coffee. One look at the other end and he witness Germany scribbling incessantly and the myriad of eastern Europeans personifications huddled up avoiding the Russian. Witnessing Denmark and Sweden already debating on new guidelines, Alfred gulped. It was going to be a tiring day.

Talk after talk, speech and updates floated by and although his hands were writing his notes and his voice kept him engaged in conversation, his heart had decided to tether his brain to the thought of Kiku. The beauty who was sitting on his left. Already Kiku had resigned himself to a conversation between China and South Korea and was looking adequately bored over the talk of generic ocean trade talks. Coughing as inconspicuously as possible Alfred signalled to his partner and took his hand under the table, smoothing his thumb to reassure him of the time not being wasted. Both had shuffled in the movement and although Alfred was rambling on in response to something Arthur had spoken, the ever diligent Matthew noticed such a carelessly romantic gesture. Canada had been seated on Alfred’s right, and with only a second to glance at what had occurred he snorted and rolled his eyes before nudging his brother in utter glee. He was happy his overly ambitious brother found something as calming as a relationship for his very hectic lifestyle.

Matthew whispered to his brother and bordering Ally, “Congrats Alfie, however, If you think you’re being smooth you’re- as usual- idiotic.”

“You’re just jealous Gilbert is stuck in Germany holding the fort. Anyway, when were you gonna tell me Japan asked you for permission huh?t” with a shrug and a kick to his knee under the table the two merely laughed it off, Francis and Arthur were confused at the NA brothers sudden cheeriness. Noticing this, Kiku turned to his secret partner, squeezing his hand tight enough that Alfred nearly yipped when he went to turn to him:

“I’m not sure if your conversation with Matthew-san is appropriate right now.” Matthew gave a sheepish glance as if to say sorry but suddenly just as the 3 of them tried to get back to task Francis had enough of missing out on a joke before quizzically pushing in to ask rather loudly.

“May I know what was not appropriate? It’s rude to leave friends out of a conversation is it not?” next to him even the Englishman nodded, interested in what was going on and before Alfred could deflect he hear a subtle Japanese swear roll of Kiku’s breath and something he thought he’d never hear even within his long-ass lifetime:

“I was telling Matthew how my relationship with Alfred was not of matter as of this moment.”

The room fell into silence. America’s suit felt too tight and he was unsure if it was the nerves of so many countries falling to a standstill or if it was his heart pumping way too hard after hearing Kiku practically announce out their very private relations. In a bit of shock, Alfred had stood up hastily, but his laced hands with Kiku dragged the Japanese delegation up with him- making the situation look even more entertainingly obvious. With a loud slap on the table, Arthur pushed his chair out and stood up as well, the man had a very irked expression.

“How did you tell Matthew about this before me?!” At this point Francis had broken out into a wide mouth smile, still seated and leaned his head onto England’s hip while trying to soothe the seething British man with a couple pats on the back. The long-haired Frenchman calmed Arthur down, chattering away about the etiquette of young love and it’s failure to respect their elders. For once in his lifetime, it almost seemed like Arthur and Francis were a couple of genuine parents lamenting over a son who had eloped without any contact. They all sat down slowly and Kiku had already turned to sort out the gaping look from his Asian counterparts. The conversation ceased to exist as the situation dissolved back into the murmurs of the nations. Soon, the conference ended and as each country left with a joyful congratulatory smile over fruitful debate and strong handshakes with closed deals. Even his least friendly connections gave him a note of thanks and wishes for the best. He saw Arthur and Francis alongside Matthew gathering in one corner of the now empty room, whereas Kiku was purposely packing away at a snail’s pace, stalling till Alfred came over.

“Keeks. You didn’t….why did you do that?”

“It’s not a secret. You said you wanted me to tell your former mentors Alfred. They have a right to know.” The American squished the smaller man into a close hug and a chaste kiss on the forehead before hearing a distinct “ahem”. Shaking Kiku’s hand firmly, Arthur looked Japan up and down before smiling uncharacteristically and pulling him into a hug- catching an unaware Japan quite well. Granted he had known England for while but he never knew he would be greeted with such glee and care. France had given Kiku some good pats and a big hug before chanting some famous French proverb and singing a dilly-dallying rendition of “la vie en rose” much to England and Canada’s despair. The other NA brother merely nodded proudly at Kiku and the short man appreciated that; he had enough hugs for today honestly.

Meekly he commented, already pulled close by a bashful Alfred, “I hope this won't interfere any deals in the future, Mr England and Mr France.” but his serious tone was met with only more exhilarated kindness.

“Enough with formalities for now. Of Course not Kiku. Here we are no longer Countries but ourselves. It is not America and Japan who are together in the way Alfred and Kiku are. Don’t let work change that.” Not really understanding but still thankful for the sentiment, the couple bid the 3 other men off and hopped back onto a plane. This time it was bound for Japan, and Alfred had already packed a bag and Pochi was already running down the walkway of the plane. The 2 sat patiently together on the flight, bathing in each other’s solitude before being interrupted by Japan’s phone dinging erratically- Yao had been calling.

So much for being quiet about things, Alfred Mused as his now public boyfriend fumbled to pick up the call. He only hoped China didn’t mind that he never ask for permission to date Kiku.

Oh well.

#aph japan #aph america #ameripan #hetalia axis powers #hetalia #Hetalia Fanfiction #prompt fic #fanfic #oneshots #request #america x japan

14 notes · View notes

bitburgo · 8 years ago

Text

I’m Basically A Man-Woman

Legit. I am.

I’m everything a man wants to be..........but without a dick.

I play football (soccer for the non-english speakers *wink*), I play guitar and drums, I don’t wear dresses or heals, I wear so little make up that you can’t tell I’m wearing it, I wear my hair up all the time, and if you look at a picture of 7 year old me I wouldn’t blame you for confusing me with a victorian school boy (I had short hair and would gel it flat to my head. NO RANDOM STRANDS.)

Observe:

(I’m wearing a Bart Simpson t-shirt cause at that age all my clothes were Simpsons themed. I know right. Super cool.)

All my life I’ve never identified myself as a ‘girly-girl’. I’ve always been the tom-boy. I’d play football (soccer) with the boys every day at infant and primary school. I’d walk around in a Chelsea FC kit 24/6 (not 7 cause I’d wear an England kit sometimes), I’d play Call of Duty (before it was mainstream can we JUST SAY), and I’d never. ever. wear. pink. *shudder*

Now let’s be clear here. I know I’m a woman. I have woman parts. I don’t want to be a man. Sure sometimes I’ve wished I didn’t have a time of the month (*shudder*), and that to dress up all I’d have to do is throw on a suit and tie. But that’s it. I’ve been lucky enough all my life that I’ve had parents who’ve accepted me and let me indulge in my mainly-male hobbies...as a girl.

But wait. “mainly-male”?

What does that mean?

Playing a sport. Is that a masculine thing? Playing the electric guitar.... only for males??

Short answer: no.

Longer answer: still no. But. Growing up these things have always been perceived as such. Likewise, my favourite colour is blue. Everything is blue. My clothes, my bedroom, my work folders... I’d have a blue dog if I could (one day..... *looks out of nearby window*). And yet blue is always seen as a ‘Boy’s Colour’!? Why? It’s the colour of the sky, the sea, of some people’s eyes... it’s the most beautiful colour on the planet....and it ‘belongs’ to specific people???? hmmm.

I would feel bad for liking these ‘manly things’. But at the same time I was very comfortable. It’s a weird mix. I’d know that what I was doing was ‘against the stereotype’, but I enjoyed what I was doing, so why stop?

Of course, this wasn’t a problem before puberty. Oh no. Gender differences in the late 90s/early 2000s as a 6 year old did not exist in my area (Surrey if you must know. I mean who even asked? Oh...no one *cough* anyway..). I’d be one of the boys but one of the girls too. It was awesome!

But then senior school (*shudder*) happened. I couldn’t play football with boys anymore. I could wear trousers but only ugly girls ones that no one wore and you’d rather be seen dead in them so I ended up wearing a skirt and feeling kinda uncomfortable. Moreover, the thing I looked forward to the most about senior school was Wearing A Tie. I mean daym... ties to me are the most awesome, best, superlicious thing that anybody could wear. They so fancy. But within 2 years of being afforded this luxury - they got rid of ties for girls. We had to wear *dry heaving* open neck blouses *heaves some more - swallows vomit*. Why, you ask? Because of course men wear ties. Simple as. Not women, men. Bit unfair? ....... ......................... ... .

I digress.

All my life I’ve never seen gender as thing.... You might think I’m just saying this, but I’m not. Once again, I am a woman. I know I am. I’m not half and half etc. I just don’t see a difference. Men and women can do the same things! They’re.............equally capable (DUN DUN DUN *crowd gasps*).

I’ve had shit about this from all angles. “You’ll look prettier if you wear your hair down”, “Ah you’d look lovely in a dress”, “You’re a girl but you never wear pink”. My friend even told me that my Super Important Boyfriend at the age of 8 said to her “well I can’t go out with her [me] anymore, she’s not really even a girl is she.”. I mean....come on. Give me a break, maaaaan. I’m nice, I like a laugh, I have a lot of interests. But because I had short hair and liked playing football (scr) and guitar I wasn’t ‘girly’ enough to go out with?????????

Boys. Who’d have em.

Ah yeah. Also, I ain’t gay. Not that there’s a problem with that. I’ve thought about it for sure. I’ve found plenty of women attractive, but I’ve never wanted a relationship or sex or anythin... so I know I’m not gay. Took some figuring out though.

However my views on gender have always led me to believe I must be different. To be a girl that likes boys things means I must be gay or I must want to be a man. It’s given me a lot of anxiety. A lot. But I’ve figured it out now and I’m on the mend.

Perhaps my teenage years would have been a lot happier if I could have been who I really was? I couldn’t do the things I loved out in the open because ‘girls didn’t do that’. The only way to get a boyfriend at school was to literally shove your vagina in their face and go, “Ravish Me”. I want a boyfriend that likes me cause I have interests, because I learn about the world, because I try to better myself with good humour and different skills. Is that so much to ask? Sorry I don’t show off my legs on a cold winters day, and sorry I wear jeans and a jacket on a night out rather than 10-foot-high-heels and a dress...

That’s just not me. Why would I introduce myself to you as someone I’m not?

For those out there that feel like they know who they are, but are uncomfortable in perusing it, just know that it’s not you. The world ain’t ready for that yet. There’s still stereotypes. People like to think we are equal but, buddy, we ain’t. And this isn’t a rant against men or anything (I love men, they’re top-banana), but just a general message. I want to be clear that no two people are the same. For e.g, me and my sister are 14 months apart and we’re very different people, despite the fact we’ve lived together for 20 years and share genetics. We get on like bezziez (too much?), but not because we are the same. We have our own personalities.

Just because you’re a woman, a man, black, white, asian, straight, gay etc. (just cause I haven’t mentioned you doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten you, but I can’t write down every type of person cause 7 billion is too many sorry) does not mean that you have to conform to a ‘look’.

But on the other hand, don’t be a dick about it. Don’t walk around with your teeth showing and your claws out. People get put off by that, and that becomes generalised to everybody that you’re trying to represent. That’s not the idea.

Be nice. Be friendly. Be charming. Be funny. Be helpful. Show that you can go on living life and enjoying it, even though you may be a bit different from everybody else. There are people out there who will appreciate you for Who You Fucking Are.

Life ain’t easy. Being who you want to be rarely happens over night. You chop and change friends/looks/hobbies/education/jobs etc. all the time, but the common denominator must be that you are true to yourself.

That’s what I’ve learnt. I’m a man without a dick. And that’s cool. I’m still a woman. I fancy men. I like who I’m growing up to become because I’m not a victim. It’s been tough to deal with stuff sometimes but I’ve kept a smile on my face, kept good people around me, and stayed true to who I am.

If that’s the message I can pass on my whole life then Let It Be So. I’d rather teach that than hatred.

Peace and love people, and remember.......

*insert inspirational quote here*

#man-woman #self-identity #thanks for reading #not a rant against men #just personal growing up issues #we all have them #im jacked up on coffee #i need to go outside #run around a bit #thanks again

3 notes · View notes

mind-of-luxe · 6 years ago

Text

Luxe’s Thoughts: FAVORITE CRIME TV SHOWS!

Welcome to a non-bookish post! This post is the product of my never-ending book slump and my overall laziness to get up from my bed and do something useful. In here, I share with you the different crime TV shows that I am currently obsessed with. So, here they are, in no particular order because ranking them would be unbelievably hard for me. Hopefully you'll get some good recommendations for what to watch next.

This show, oh my goodness, where to begin? This is simply amazing. Although I have started reading The Complete Sherlock Holmes by Arthur Conan Doyle long ago, I haven't really got much into it before I had to stop (unsurprisingly because of school) so I don't have much knowledge about Sherlock Holmes. I've always had a great liking for the mystery genre though, specifically in crime. What can I say, murders and heists hold a special place in my heart. Well, this TV program blew me away. This is based on the aforementioned book, but with a contemporary twist. Sherlock follows Sherlock Holmes, an incredibly detective, and John Watson, an ex-military doctor, helping the police solve different crimes in modern-day London.

I absolutely love the banter between Sherlock and Watson! Benedict Cumberbatch and Martin Freeman have great chemistry being Holmes and Watson. Anyway, I basically went through an emotional rollercoaster on this one. I laughed, I cried, got frustrated, and got scared. And let me tell you, this will keep you on the edge of your seat, I swear on my life. Well, maybe not, I'm not ready to die just yet. But you get my point. The crimes for each episode will really get you thinking and the plot twists are jaw-dropping. Also, this is only four seasons long, with three episodes (around one hour each) per season, and a special episode set in the Victorian era. Very easy to accidentally binge-watch and leave your mouth hanging open at the end of Season 4 Episode 3, wondering where the hell the next one is. *sobs in detective*

P.S. I personally think that Benedict Cumberbatch is the perfect actor for Sherlock, although I've only seen like two other actors portraying the character. Oh well.

"Anderson, don't talk out loud. You lower the IQ of the whole street." - Sherlock Holmes (played by Benedict Cumberbatch)

After I've finished Sherlock, I obviously couldn't get enough so I looked for similar TV programs and this one came up. I'm glad it did because it's basically just the same, except that this one isn't as closely based to the book from what I can gather and this one isn't set in London. Here, Sherlock Holmes is a recovering drug addict. His father hires Joan Watson as Sherlock's sober companion and together, they assist the New York City Police Department in solving numerous crimes. I really like the concept of how Holmes and Watson became acquainted. Also, Watson is a woman. I'm really excited about that!

This is still an ongoing series, and currently on Season 6 (with 24 episodes each season). I'm not yet up to date with this one though, still on Season 2, but I'm already loving this. I'm taking my sweet time on this precious one, and watching other shows alongside of it as well.

"For future reference: When I say I agree with you, it means I'm not listening." - Sherlock Holmes (played by Jonny Lee Miller)

Ah Scorpion, another amazing one. I feel like I've been using the word "amazing" quite a lot now, have I not? Anyway. This is my current obsession! Scorpion is about an intellectually well-equipped team dealing with a variety of "complex, high tech threats around the globe." To let you have a better view on the capabilities of the members of Team Scorpion, here is the intro for the episodes:

My name is Walter O'Brien. I have the fourth-highest IQ ever recorded: 197. Einstein's was 160. When I was 11, the FBI arrested for me for hacking NASA to get their blueprints for my bedroom wall. Now I run a team of geniuses, tackling worldwide threats only we can solve. Toby's our behaviorist. Sylvester's a human calculator. Happy, a mechanical prodigy. Agent Cabe Gallo is our government handler. And Paige? Well, Paige isn't like us; she's normal. She translates the world for us, while we help her understand her genius son. Together, we are Scorpion.

I was intrigued by the premise at first so I decided to give it a go. To say I was pleasantly surprised is an understatement. I'm always really awestruck at each episode. Each case Team Scorpion take on, even if it sounds simple at first, gets very interesting as the episode progresses. There was never a dull moment in this TV series! I also love how the characters are all unique, with different abilities and characteristics, so they depend on one another. They have such great teamwork and friendship! Not only that, I also got to know the members of the team bit by bit; their fear, likes, dislikes, their past. Each of them has their own complexities. Plus, I learned a lot through this, believe it or not. Like a lot of chemistry stuff I forgot by now, and to always go for the nose when in combat, and that a group of jellyfish is called a smack. Well, obviously there's a lot other facts but those were just at the top of my head.

I hope you feel my enthusiasm for this show. I just freaking love Scorpion so you can't imagine my total horror disappointment that it got cancelled. It only has 4 seasons with around 22-25 episodes each. That's not enough for me! I miss them already. :(

"Rappers may have ninety-nine or so problems, but misplacing paychecks is not one of them." - Toby Curtis (played by Eddie Kaye Thomas)

I'm kind of torn on this one. I absolutely loved the first season but I wasn't so keen on the second one. That being said, I am still anticipating the release of the third season on October. Riverdale's characters are based on the legendary Archie Comics. That being said, the plot has no connection to the comics because this CW show (and Netflix original, I'm confused) has a really dark story line. In a nutshell, Riverdale revolves around a group of teenagers discovering that the town they once thought was peaceful, apparently has a web of sinister secrets.

I am a huge fan of the Archie Comics. It was my childhood! I remember literally not eating at school just to save up my allowance to buy those. I wonder where my humongous collection went. Maybe they're scattered all over the place because we've moved several times already since I've last saw them. That sucks. But I'm thinking of restarting my collection once again.

Anyway, when I first heard of Riverdale, I was so excited for it. The ominous, dark vibe they were aiming for was depicted well but it also has light scenes as well to balance. The mystery aspect of this was so thrilling and waiting for the next episodes were very painful. It was also so weird to see such contrasting moods from the same characters from the TV show and the comics. Oh, and also, let me mention how I've really taken a liking to the cast of this show. I mean, seriously, they are such a close-knitted group despite not knowing most of each other when they first started and how they have two different age groups. This just adds to their on-screen chemistry.

I know that a lot of people have such a great dislike for this TV series but I genuinely think it's worth watching. There are currently two seasons out on Netflix, the first one has 13 episodes and the second has 22, with each episode around 40 minutes.

"Fear. It's the most basic, the most human emotion. As kids, we're afraid of everything. The dark. The boogeyman under the bed. And we pray for morning. For the monsters to go away. Though they never do. Not really." - Jughead Jones (played by Cole Sprouse)

That's about it for the crime TV shows that I currently enjoyed. I have more on my list though, and I can't wait to get started! What are your favorite crime TV shows? If you don't like the crime genre, what are your all-time favorite TV shows are instead?

#crime tv #crime tv series #crime tv shows #elementary #elementary tv show #Luxe's Thouhts #mystery tv series #mystery tv shows #netflix #riverdale #riverdale tv show #scorpion #scorpion tv show #team scorpion #sherlock #sherlock holmes #tv series #tv shows

1 note · View note

thegreatandpowerfulsiggy · 8 years ago

Text

Alright let me tell you the story of the biggest asshole in high school.

His name was Kyle. I’m assuming it still is Kyle, but then again, he could be dead by now because of all the hard drugs he got into in college.

Basically I met Kyle in my freshman year, when I had just turned thirteen and I was so happy and bubbly and full of life. The first thing you should know about Kyle is that he basically introduced himself as a brony. I’m not shitting you. He was fifteen and a proud brony. At the time I had no idea how cringey this was, so I watched a few episodes of My Little Pony to try to relate to him. I didn’t like it very much so I dropped it. We still were able to bond through our mutual love of cringey memes and bad rage comics so we became decent friends. I thought we were great friends because I had no idea how annoying I actually was as a thirteen-year-old.

Sophomore year rolled around and Kyle and I started “dating.” This consisted of going to a movie, going to the Sadie Hawkins dance together, and then ignoring each other for long periods of time because we had no idea what we were doing. Eventually I was like “dude I can’t do this” and called it off. His response was. “That’s fine. You’re a lesbian, right?” I was really taken aback and, because I was young and impressionable and being spoon-fed fairly homophobic rhetoric from my Catholic school, pretty offended that he would even dare call me a lesbian. Apparently I wasn’t offended THAT much because I kept trying to be friends with him. I should also mention that during our period of tense dating, he had told my mother to tip more because waiters had hard jobs. She had tipped 20% and, more importantly, he was sixteen and she was in her mid-fifties.

Alright. I remember basically nothing from my junior year of high school so I’ll fast forward to senior year. I come home from an incredible experience at camp, where I had made the best friends if ever made in my life. I come back to school and realize “hey. These friends here are actually very shitty, not only as friends but as people in general.” I was already struggling with some undiagnosed depression and anxiety, not to mention the diagnosed OCD that hadn’t been properly medicated in years since my old psychiatrist closed his practice, but this realization sent me into a downward spiral of anxiety and depression. Eventually I make some very shallow cuts on my wrist on two occasions. After one of these occasions I put a bandaid on my wrist, slap on some bracelets, and go to school. Kyle sees the band aid and makes fun of me for getting a “boo boo.” Everyone laughs and I contemplate suicide.

I eventually break down and tell my mom. My parents finally realize that what I’m experiencing isn’t just teenage angst and they take me to a psychiatrist who diagnoses me with an anxiety disorder (she also diagnoses me with some other stuff that my current psychiatrist has said I don’t actually have). I come back to school after a one-week absence and almost immediately I tell my friends that the weird things that have been going on with me - the weird tense episodes I sometimes experience - are anxiety attacks and that sometimes I might need to be alone in order to combat them. They initially take this very well, but they have no idea what to do when I tell them that I’m about to have an attack and I need to leave the table.

So what do they do? They get mad. Or at least really annoyed and irritated. My friend Brandon was the only one who seemed to be even capable of understanding anything I was feeling, so he tried to support me through it all, but he still got a bit frustrated when they would get into an argument and I’d leave to ward off an attack. Apparently I get up and leave one too many times for Kyle’s liking, so he decides to take it upon himself to set me straight. He is absolutely seething as he turns to me and he basically spits in my face as he tells me to get over it, that I’m just overreacting and that I need to suck it up. By the time he’s finished his spiel I’m actually crying, but like hell I’m going to get up and leave the table after he’s just yelled at me for leaving the table. Later in the year he calls me a liar for describing something as an argument when it seemed like an argument to me. Apparently it had actually been a very calm discussion, but my anxiety had acted up to the point where I had to (surprise surprise) leave the room to calm down, so I had thought that would count as an argument.

Even later in the year he decides to take over as my psychiatrist. I was still so willing to be his friend that I walked around the neighborhood with him in between his finals and basically just endured a solid thirty minutes of him telling me that I just needed to be more positive and that he was sure I could get over my anxiety if I followed his advice. I was still so young and naive that I just stood there and took it, still willing to be his friend even though his head was stuck up his ass and his ass was stuck in the Victorian era.

Then the senior retreat happens. I went to a Catholic high school, so every class went on a retreat at some point in the year. At the end of the retreat there was an exercise where every single one of us had a paper bag stapled to the wall and we were all supposed to write out compliments and put them in the bags. When we’re all allowed to open our bags I get so many compliments that it surprises me. People tell me that I’m nice and funny and smart and that I sing well, and then I get to Kyle’s compliment. His reads something along the lines of “I know you have some problems but if you stay positive I know you can fix them. That’s what I did. :)” Later on this would make me so mad that I would scream into my pillows. He literally did not compliment me. He just gave me some shitty advice and left it at that. Apparently I wasn’t worth complimenting, or his head was stuck so far up his ass that he couldn’t see how much I valued his shit opinion. So I put on a happy face and thanked him for his bad advice and left it at that. I should also mention that before this retreat had taken place I had performed in the school talent show and fucking killed it (apparently surprising just about everybody) and the only thing he ever said about it was that I was “pretty good.” I don’t know if he was literally just that much of an ass or if he was scared to come on too strong or if he didn’t want to damage his reputation as an uncaring bastard, but it still hurt.

Ok. I haven’t talked to him in around a year. Maybe a year and a half. I’m still Facebook friends with him just in case he needs to get in contact with me for whatever reason. I get a notification saying that he’s posted something, so I go and read it. HE’S CELEBRATING DONALD TRUMP’S VICTORY. HE SAYS HE’S A “quiet but proud Trump supporter.” Immediately everything comes back to me and I finally feel all the anger and resentment that I should have been feeling all along. I immediately unfriend him and block him on skype.

I haven’t heard from him in a very long time. Last I heard he went to Austin to go to community college (I don’t know exactly why he went to Austin to go to community college when we had a community college in our own town, but that’s the least of my problems) and got into some pretty hard drugs.

So, friends, that’s the story of my asshole friend Kyle. I wish him all the best but, honestly, if he were to choke on a dick and die I wouldn’t really feel all that bad.

TLDR; I had an asshole friend named Kyle who made me feel like shit all the time and who turned out to be a Trump supporter. We are no longer friends.

#long rant #sorry for the long post #this one is for you Kyle P #Siggy rants

0 notes