#like dont force yourself to engage in a brand just because you used to love their work

[pagesofkenna]

Every now and then i am deeply and profoundly rewarded for having given up on critical role years ago

[jemej3m]

ghosts

this was unprompted but i dont care. all yall want is the wedding and i need an angst pallet cleanser before i can keep going with that. it’s so soft and sweet. blurgh, gross ;D

anyway!

remember in the first part, when neil said that drake spear’s case would forever remain unsolved? 

yeah. this is that.

trigger warnings: implied/referenced sexual assault, i/r torture, i/r csa, i/r self harm/suicide attempts, i/r murder

(normal pre-marital problems, i assume)

*

Neil traversed their kitchen as he threw together a curry Renee had recommended, whistling very poorly with the TV on in the background. An Exy game was always playing, much to Andrew’s dismay. 

They’d been living together for about a year and a half, and engaged for nearly a week now. Neil thought he couldn’t possibly get any happier, which was odd and unfamiliar in his tragic life. As he rinsed the starch off the rice and threw it into the rice cooker (gifted to him by Allison because once he’d served her undercooked, burnt rice and she’d never forgiven him since) he heard the front door unlock and twist open, the familiar shuffle of his fiancé arriving home making Neil smile. 

That sentiment was lost when he turned around to greet him. 

“Andrew,” Neil managed, watching Andrew fall onto the couch. He looked at the television, eyes so distant that they couldn’t register Neil even as he crouched down in front of him. “Andrew?”

His hands were shaking, curled into fists by his sides. Neil had never seen his skin so pale and lifeless. 

“Andrew,” he continued. “Can i sit next to you?” When he didn’t answer, Neil slowly moved to sit on the couch, giving him enough time to shove him back. Neil kept at least a centimetre between them at every point. 

“I’m making dinner,” he said, trying to think of something mundane to draw him out of his head. “Curry, one of Renee’s. You said you tried it and liked it. It has lamb, and I've snuck in some peas, but the sauce tastes good enough that we should be able to ignore them.” His fists relaxed slightly, the longer Neil talked. “You remember that cat shelter that I said was a front? Well, it’s still a cat shelter. Maybe we could check it out, see if there are any hairless ones. I know you like the hairless ones.” 

Andrew reached out for Neil’s hand and closed his eyes. His thumb traced the scars on Neil’s skin. The pattern was familiar and comforting for Andrew: Neil sighed with relief. 

“I’ve got those off-brand icecream sticks you love,” Neil continued, leaning in closer. “There was only one box left that weren’t those coconut-raspberry ones. Pure chocolate, just for you. Maybe we could dip them in sprinkles.” 

Andrew hummed softly. 

“Hey,” Neil said under his breath, leaning closer. He never asked if Andrew was okay, if he was alright, how his day went: not when he was like this. Asking a question meant requiring an answer, and providing a template meant forcing a restricted response. Andrew didn’t need to give Neil falsities. They were past that.

“Drake is being let out on parole.” 

Drake fucking Spear. 

Andrew told Neil the story a year into dating. He was in college, with his cousin and his brother. They’d moved to South Carolina, lived under Betsy’s roof as a reprieve from their biological family, and then congregated at their local college. All was fine until Andrew’s foster-home past caught up with him, the last time they’d gone to visit Nicky’s mother and father. 

Drake had been waiting for Andrew in Nicky’s old bedroom. It was safe to say that when Nicky and Aaron found them, it wasn’t pretty. Andrew had intentionally fucked with his biological mother’s car when he figured out she was treating Aaron like shit: in return, Aaron had wrenched Drake (a marine seal) off his brother and kicked the life out of him. 

Only he didn’t die. He went to jail. Aaron went to trail and claimed self-defence on his brother’s behalf. Everything was meant to be fine. 

Eight years later, Andrew was here, sitting on the couch as he reminisced upon horrid memory after horrid memory, knowing that his old demon was loose once more. 

“I’ll kill him.” Neil murmured. 

Andrew finally looked at him. “Neil.” 

He looked up. “I would kill him a thousand times over, Andrew.” 

Andrew said nothing, his head falling to rest on Neil’s shoulder. By the amount of tension coiled in Andrew’s shoulders, he must have been holding this in all day. 

Neil set his jaw, unwillingly to lie to himself. He was going to commit a self-serving, premeditated murder. 

His father would be so proud. 

*

When it finally happened, Andrew was coming home from dinner at Nicky and Erik’s. Neil was still working, somewhere in the depths of the city, but it was fine. Andrew had been able to distract himself from the weight pressing on his shoulders for a few hours with his cousin. 

A whole month since Drake - no, Spear - had been out on parole, and Andrew hadn’t heard a peep. For a while Andrew had thought that perhaps Spear would go to Aaron instead, the man who’d bashed him but not good enough to avoid jail, but Aaron had heard nothing. Chicago was way too far from South Carolina, where he’d been held for his crimes. 

But Baltimore wasn’t.

He unlocked his front door and felt the way it was loose, too loose, observing the scratches on the bolt’s screws. Andrew grit his teeth, pulling out the knife from his armband and wishing he’d brought home his gun, to swing the door open. 

As expected, the apartment was dark. But not empty. 

“Evening, AJ.” 

“Isn’t this dramatic,” Andrew insisted, though his insides were twisted with fear. Don’t lock up. Don’t lock up. Don’t -

“I was waiting for you. I’ve missed you.” 

Andrew punched the lightswitch hard enough for the wall to buckle: it held, and instead revealed something worse than Drake and his sneer. 

Neil was bound to a dining chair with cuffs Andrew kept, just in case, a tie around his mouth. He looked incredibly woozy. Andrew wanted so desperately to go to him, but Spear himself was sat on the arm of their new couch, elbows braced on his knees. Andrew hated his slick grin and his knowing smile and his soulless fucking eyes. He couldn’t believe he’d almost killed himself over this man, thinking at least he would die knowing what a mother’s love felt like. 

A mother’s love shouldn’t have cost Andrew a thing, let alone nearly everything. Those scars on his arms were warped with time and a long journey to healing, and Drake wasn’t going to take that away from him again. 

“You learned a few tricks in prison,” Andrew acknowledged. 

“You snatched yourself a husband-to-be,” Drake sneered. “How cute. I knew you’d liked it all along.” 

Andrew’s hand twitched. “You’re in violation of your parole, Drake. I’m going to arrest you.” 

“You’re a cop?” Drake spat out a laugh. It was guttural and wrong. Neil winced. “Well, ain’t that just funny.” 

“Funny how I, the boy who’d had nothing and was still taken from, ended up with a fulfilling life, finding family and friends and a purposeful occupation, whilst you, a boy who’d had everything and more, took your life for granted and ended up in the slammer for eight years, with more to come? Hilarious. I agree.” 

“I should’ve crushed your skull eight years ago,” Drake laughed. “No matter: I’ll make up for it now.” 

Neil met Andrew’s eyes as his hands fiddled with the cuffs. Keep talking. 

 “Why, Drake?” Andrew’s voice cracked. “You had Cass. School. Friends. Everyone liked you. What drove you to ruin your own life?” 

“I did have everything I could’ve ever needed,” he said, teeth oily as he grinned. “But what I wanted was something I couldn’t have. Till it occurred to me that I didn’t need to have it. I just needed to take it.” He sneered, putting his hands to the arm of the couch as he readied to stand. “Did it hurt you, little AJ? Because I hope it did. I always liked it best when you bled -” 

“Then I’ll make sure that you get what you’re owed, Drake Spear,” Neil said softly, balancing his knife between his fingertips. Its blade rested against Drake’s throat, Neil free of his cuffs and gag. 

The man froze. 

“Best practise is putting things away after you use them,” Neil advised, lifting a cloth to Drake’s mouth and nose. The man’s eyes rolled to the back of his head as he slumped over, falling to the ground with a heavy thud. 

Andrew sucked in a gasp of air, watching as Neil cuffed the man’s wrists behind his back and stood with a boot pressed to his neck, should he wake up. 

From under the couch, Neil drew out a large tarp and his knives. Andrew closed his eyes momentarily. By the time he’d opened them, the coffee table had been flipped as a make-shift torture device, the tarp covering the carpet beneath. Neil was testing the sharpness of his cleaver against the tip of his finger: satisfied, he turned around to look at Andrew. “Help me roll him?”

Andrew looked at the man, hollowed out. “I was going to take him in.“

“What good is that?” Neil demanded, throwing the cleaver back into his pile. “He’ll go back to jail for another four to six months for violation of his parole, unless he tries to -” Neil screwed his eyes shut. “No. No, I won’t let him touch you again. And if you suggest some sort of self-sacrificing bullshit to have him locked up for good, I won’t buy it.” 

“He won’t get out on parole again -” 

“That is not worth a fifteen year sentence that he’ll worm his way out of again, letting the cycle will just repeat itself. No, Andrew. He is never going to touch you again. He will never look at you again.” His fists shook with a quiet fury. “I won’t let it happen.” 

“Neil,” Andrew stepped forward. “You need to let me do my job.” 

His fiancé brandished a knife from god-knows-where. “You need to let me do mine! Leave if you must. If your morals put you above killing a horrid man to keep my family safe, then go. But this man is not leaving here alive and whole. I am not letting the man I love subject himself to ruination via an old demon.” He finally looked Andrew in the eye. “Not if I can help it.” 

Neil bent over to drag Drake’s unconscious body over to where he needed it, locking his ankles and wrists to the four metal legs of their coffee table. The chloroform wasn’t strong enough to keep him asleep for long, but it didn’t matter. He was secure and doomed by the time he blinked his eyes open. 

Andrew watched Neil spin a knife between his fingers. 

“Wh - “ Drake coughed. “What? What happened?” 

“Not much,” Neil said, lightly. “You merely threatened to maim and kill the man I love, right in front of me.” His smile was the most frightening thing about him. “I don’t like that.”

“No,” Drake struggled against his restraints. “No!” 

“For now, I’ll shove this in there,” Neil said, grabbing the tie. “But later I’ll be sure to sever your vocal chords, so you can try and fail to scream, just like you tried to keep him quiet for years. No gag required. Neat, right?” 

“AJ,” Drake panted. “Andrew, get this psycho away from me. AJ -!” 

Neil shoved the tie into Drake’s mouth. “No. Stop looking at him. Look at me. I’m your biggest problem right now, aren’t I?” 

“I’m going to the study,” Andrew muttered, lightheaded. Neil glanced up at him, so he nodded, so minutely that anyone but Neil would’ve missed it. 

Neil’s expression softened slightly around the eyes as clear understanding passed between them, bright as day. 

Thank you for doing what I couldn’t, Andrew said. 

Thank you for letting me, Neil returned. 

With a deep breath, Andrew turned away to put the kettle on as Neil got to work. 

*

WOW okay. twiiiiiisted. i did promise that this would all be fluffy and nice, didn’t I? well, oops. 

i hate drake enough to feel that its warranted tho. srry not srry. 

back to your regularly scheduled program a-next time! 

[khnstllflwr]

Tell Me A Story - khnsllflwr

TW// All payne, no Liam.

"Louis Tomlinson, singer song-writer, ex member of the legendary band, one direction and his long-time girlfriend, model, fashion blogger, and social media influencer, Eleanor Calder just announced their engagement this morning, they said that the awaited wedding would be broadcasted in the 28th of Septem--"

"Tss. The 28th, huh. Really?" Harry tutted before shutting off the telly. He stood up from the couch walked around it, heading to the kitchen. He made himself a cuppa with that ridiculous tea he always liked, not that Harry liked it, but the other one just made him liked it 'more like forced me to like it' he thought. Thoughts came flooding down like the showers that are danish, they were flooding down on Harry while he stares at the brand of tea, before he even indulges into deep memories and start bawling his eyes out, his phone rang, thankfully, it rang.

Fetching his phone by the coffee table, he took a quick glance at the telly then back to his phone, "Gemma❤️" was calling.

"Hey sis, what's up?" Harry answered the call.

"Hey Harold, I was wondering if I can leave Darcy over there, Michal and I are going to a business trip to LA but she doesn't want to go with us, she said she's rather stay with you, is that okay?" Gemma asked, he smiles.

"That's actually really wonderful, I would love to take Darcy in, when are you leaving for LA? When are you going to drop Darcy?" A hint of excitement is running up to Harry's stomach, he always loved kids, and always wished he could have one. He missed his niece although he's in London he didn't get a chance to see Darcy because of work.

"Our flight is actually tonight so is it okay to drop her in later? In the afternoon maybe?"

"Oh that would be really lovely actually, I'll wait for you guys then."

"Are you still in London? Are you in Hampstead?" Harry's smile faded, his shoulders dropped, he hesitated for a bit then answered.

"I-im in Barnet" Harry choked. There's a few seconds of awkward silence before Gemma answered.

"You mean in Royal Drive? Are you in Princess Park?" She asked, bewildered, a bit quietly, or so Harry thought, but it's definitely quieter than before.

"Yes....." Harry answered very quietly.

"Okay then... I'll drop her in later, okay? Love you, take care" a breath of relief for Harry when Gemma answered in her usual tone.

"Love you too sis, take care, tell Darcy I'm excited to see her" Gemma chuckled before answering "okay" and hanging up the phone.

There's a few minutes of silence before he looks around the living room, he arrived there last night, tired, sho he immediately went to sleep but now that he's awake he could fully see the whole manor, the memories, everything, everything and nothing that happened here. All those days and nights that they shared, the fun, the happiness, the sadness, but especially the love.

Harry spent the whole morning looking around the manor and changing what needs to be changed (like there's anything that needs changing), Cleaning what needs to be cleaned (like there's even something to clean), and unpacking the baggage he left last night lying out and about his bedroom floor. Harry is now in the kitchen cooking something very nostalgic, when the doorbell rang, 'it must be them', he thought before taking off his apron, turning off the stove, and skipping to the bloody door.

"Uncle Haz!" Darcy immediately came running off to his uncle's arms when the door opened.

"She missed you a lot" Gemma chuckled, Harry invited them inside.

"Wow your house looks like a castle" Darcy said, amazed.

"Would you like to stay for lunch?" Harry asked while his 5-year-old niece is hanging off his back.

"Oh no we're okay, we need to do something important here before flying to LA" Michal said, Gemma's husband.

"That's a waste then, but its okay" Harry answered while Darcy is playing with his hair.

"Darcy darling, would you mind getting down Uncle Haz's back? Mummy needs to talk to him" Gemma asked her daughter politely, with a little "okay mummy" Harry bends down and Darcy climbs down and goes running for her dad, Gemma pulled Harry to the kitchen.

"Are you okay? I just read the article shortly after you hung up the phone, is everything okay?" Gemma asked in a very elderly sister-y way.

"Never been better" Harry answered and gave her a reassuring smile, actually ot was more of a fake smile than a reassuring one but nonetheless. Gemma noticed, she always notices.

"I know that you probably don't want to talk about it, but I'm worried about you okay? And if you want someone to talk to I'm here, Harry. I'm always here" Gemma gave him a heart warming smile and gave him a hug, a hug that Harry needed the most, he hugs her back and they stood like that for a few seconds until Gemma lets go, it's always the other person who lets go, but Harry, Harry never does.

After talking and reminding for a few minutes Gemma and Michal bade goodbye to Darcy and they both gave her a goodbye kiss to the cheeks.

"What are you making Uncle Haz?" Darcy asked when they're both in the kitchen. Harry smiles sadly and looks down at what he's making.

"Well, this-- this, I'm making Chicken stuffed with Mozzarella wrapped in Parma ham with a side of mash Potatoes" Harry chuckles at what he just said.

"That's a lot of words, but it sounds delicious, is there anyway you can shorten the name?" She asks still looking at Harry dead in the eyes while her hands are cupped to her cheeks.

" I reckon it's actually pretty long," he chuckles, " then let's call it Louis Bleu" he smiles.

After they've finished eating, with Darcy blabbering over and over again that 'Louis Bleu' is now her favourite dish and would ask her mum to make it for her when she's back, they spent the whole day watching cartoons and playing games. They even went to a nearby park and played with the swings, they fetched themselves some chocolate and ice cream in the nearby convenience store on their way back. It was a really nice day.

"Uncle Haz, Can you tell me a story?" Darcy asked when night fell and its bedtime.

"Sure love, what kind of story do you want me to tell?" Harry obliged, fixing her blankets while he sat at the edge of her bed.

"Can you tell me a fairytale story, or even a love story? About a prince and a princess?" She asked, smiling, he looks at her, smiling, but now with the sparkles in his eyes.

"Well, I don't know any love story about a prince and a princess, but I do have a story about a prince and his soulmate, the little one with the cheekbones" thoughts and memories started rushing and filling up his head and his smile gets wider, he does his little fond nose crunch at the memories.

"What's a soulmate?" This little girl asked.

"Its a--," Harry hesitated, "Well-- It's like a bestfriend but more, its that one person in the world that knows you better than anyone else." Harry looks up and spaces out with thoughts in his mind, thoughts that are begging to come back. "It's someone who makes you a better person, no-- actually they dont make you a better person than you than yourself, its because they inspire you," he stops to breath, and he looks down.

"A soulmate is someone who-- who knew you and accepted you and believe in you before anyone else did or when no one else would. And no matter what happen, you'll always love them. Nothing could ever change that." Harry finally finishes, his eyes a bit glassy he feels like he's about to cry but then he felt Darcy's embrace 'she truly is Gemma's daughter' he thought.

"Don't cry uncle Hazza, im sure that soulmates are really beautiful and happy" she says while patting her uncle on the back, Harry chuckles.

"I know love, it really is, now let's go on to the story" Darcy lets go of him and starts to climb to bed again.

"So-- there once was a prince, he was a bit lonely and he's not very confident, he really loves to sing and would love to perform around the world, one day he met this boy in the loo," he chuckles, Darcy does the same, "This boy..... Is the little one with the cheekbones," Harry stops, just to see Darcy's reaction but she didnt react at all, "Aren't you surprised that the prince's soulmate is a boy?" He asked, a bit taken aback.

"Well, no, Mum told me that we can love who ever we want even if it's a boy or a girl" she answered. Harry felt so much happiness he thought he was about to explode but he pulled himself together and continued the story.

"The little one with the cheekbones has magnificent beautiful blue eyes and an attractive smile, the prince fell in love then and there, when they first locked eyes with each other" " After that they've spent a lot of time with each other because they both have the same interests, they wanted to sing and they wanted to travel and perform around the world, they wanted to be free. They both were put in a band or a group with three other boys, the irish princess, the bradford badboy, and leeroy" the nicknames made Darcy laugh out loud, it took a few minutes to calm him down.

"Okay the five of them were very close with each other, they were always together, they were best of friends but the prince-- the prince felt a lot more affection for the little one with the cheekbones, he's his favourite out of the boys. There came a point were he realized he loved the little one, but he was scared to tell him because he might push him away"

Darcy interrupted, "Why would he be scared? If he loves him he should tell him right away right? Because someone might take him away?"

'I know' Harry thought 'but there's some things that people are too afraid to lose that's why they don't say it, That's what I also regret, I didn't tell him sooner.'

"Yes, you should but don't worry. As the the days go by they've become closer and closer together, and the prince fell harder each day, he was really in love with the little one with the cheekbones, little did he know he likes him too" Darcy gave an unholy shriek of excitement, Harry, although startled, gave a smile.

"So one day the prince couldn't take all the love anymore he felt like he was going to burst, so he confessed his love for the boy, and he was surprised to find out that he loves him too, from the first they that they met," Harry game a teary smile, "They decided to live together, in a castle."

"Just like here? Like this house? It really looks like a castle" Darcy asked

'Exactly here, they lived exactly here'

"Yes, just like this one" Harry answered sniffing a little bit.

"So did they live happily ever after?" She asked with excitement, her eyes glistening with curiousity.

"They lived happily, sure, but there were some bad people who wanted them apart, that's why they had to hide their love from others, they were forced to stop interacting with each other when people are around so they do it in secret"

"Why? But they love each other, isn't that enough? They dont have to hide it right?" Darcy asked, a bit teary eyed.

'We do love each other, I also wished we didn't need to hide it' he thought, but he brushed those thoughts away.

"They also didn't want to hide it, but it's their only choice or else the bad people will break them up. So they chose to hide it when their outside so they won't take them apart. They will do anything they say, just so they could stay together."

"Just like soulmates." She said absent-mindedly.

"Yes, just like soulmates. They did everything together, they travelled the world, they performed, they sang, even though they can't show their love to other people, they still show it in little ways like quick glances, secret touches, and cheeky holding hands. They also made their skin like paper, all the things they can't say they write or draw it in their skin, because no one can erase them, it will forever be there." Harry touches his arms full of tattoos.

"Just like yours?" Darcy asked.

"Just like mine. They also have a lot of matching drawings, Do you know what's my favourite of all?" Harry asked, she shakes her head. " The prince has a ship drawn in his left arm," he touches his left arm where the tattoo is located, "and the little one with the cheekbones has a compass that points ships to home drawn in the inside of his right arm, it means that the boy will always be the prince's home away from home" Harry smiles, a little bitterly, with a hint of pain.

"That's really sweet" she says sweetly, butterflies filling her stomach.

"It is, They feel safe around each other's arms and feels happy in the presence of one another. They faced every storm together, and also faced every sunny day together," Harry stops, smiling, staring at nothing, trying to remember everything, all the memories, "and even when they're apart from each other the universe always finds a way for them to meet, to get back at each other's arms. They were soulmates" Harry smiled at Darcy.

"They really fell in love, didn't they?" She asked.

"Yes, yes they did."

"But what happened after? Are they still together now? Did they fight the bad people? Are they gone?" She bombarded him with questions one after the other.

"Well the bad people got into the little one with the cheekbones, so in the end, he let the prince go, but the prince didn't, he never does, he's still holding on. Now the little one with the cheekbones is getting married to a beautiful princess while the prince is left alone but he was happy because he got to meet his soulmate, the little one with the cheekbones." Harry finishes his story, a single tear escaping and rolling down his cheek.

"So the little one with the cheekbones loved the prince after all." She stopped,

"But he let go? Doesn't he love the prince anymore?" She asked sadly. 'I really hope he still loves him, but I believe that he already truly let go, all the prince wants is for the boy to be happy, even if it's not with him'

"No one knows, not even the prince," Harry answered, 'but he's still hoping that maybe the universe will put them back together, if they really are soulmates, or if he just assumed it' Harry whispered audible only to himself.

"But you said that they're soulmates, Im sure the universe will find a way to get them back together right? Even if it takes a long time?" Harry smiled, then nodded.

"Could you tell me their names?" Darcy asked curiously. "The prince's name is Harry and the little one with the cheekbones is named Louis" he answered, Darcy smiled a little sleepily, she pulled the covers up to her chin and said,

"Well, Harry and Louis' love story is the greatest one I've ever heard, even if it didn't end with a happily ever after." Before closing her eyes and falling to sleep.

Harry answered, tears falling down one after the other.

"Yes. Yes, it is."

The end.

A/n: Hey guys! So this is my first ever larry fanfic. I am in no way trying to Disrespect Harry or Louis, I just believed that they fell inlove at some point of their life, even if its just a split second. And I believe that they're love story is the greatest it's actually the only reason I actually believe in love. I wrote this fanfiction because I was bored and the power cut off, so I wrote a story on my notebook it was inspired by 2 Larry edits: 'They fell in love, didn't they?" And 'What are soulmates?' from the og larry editor in youtube her channel is GossipSmile check her out! She's really great. The name Darcy is also inspired by a girl from Tiktok who does POV's and she does Darcy Styles check her out guys! There's the link. Love you all, spread love, TPWK xxx

[fairycosmos]

3. I know i have to 'get out there' but it's hard when you've felt your whole life that nobody likes you. i literally only have one friend. i just feel really hopeless... i feel like im not meant for this kind of life, everything feels wrong and like im waiting for something's never gonna come, some kinda magic. i want of life of adventure and paint and write but instead i have to study because i'd feel like a loser w/o an education. i dont mind working i just dont want to study.

hey love, i'm really sorry to hear that. i think it's totally normal to be disappointed and even more so to be unsure about your future - it's not an indicator of failure, it's a natural part of growing up and finding your place in the world. i'm probably ignorant and don't know what it's like to actually be in your shoes, so i apologize if i come across as frustrating at some points. this is just my perspective. but i'm wondering if maybe taking more time away is an option for you? maybe working somewhere, focusing on your mental health for a while.... because the thing is your level of education has nothing to do with your worth as a person, and even more than that, there's no set time scale for this sort of thing. you could go back to college at 35, and it wouldn't matter. your life doesn't have to follow that stereotypical linear trajectory we're all forced to chase, in order for you to find happiness and success. and you don't have to justify your own personal choices to anyone, least of all to yourself. i just think it's important to try to focus on the factors of living that are in your control, that will bring you a sense of stability and peace. i know it's hard to let go of the internalised capitalistic idea of having to prove yourself through academia and getting a 'good job', but it's always useful to remind yourself of just how exploitative and made up that entire construct is. you're here and you're experiencing the world and with that you are fulfilling your point, you are doing enough. you are enough. everything else is background noise, that we're forced to muddle through, but background noise nonetheless. you don't need anyone's permission to prioritize your own needs and wants.

however, if you're dead set on studying this topic you don't like (which, i totally understand why you'd make that choice bc i know it's not that simple), then i reckon it's alright to just let yourself feel shitty for a while. any sadness, anger, disappointment, pain you feel about it is to be expected - and even though it fuckin sucks to have to carry it, its intensity definitely won't last. one way or another, you will adapt and so will your ability to cope. just don't use those emotions as an excuse to engage in self destructive behaviour, cause that'll only perpetuate the cycle and keep you in a dark place. having to force ourselves to do shit we hate is always going to feel like an everlasting burden we're never going to escape from, even if that's not the case in reality. and i had a lot of experience with that in school too - the main tactic i can remember making a difference, was like you said, finding little things to make the weight of it more bearable. i think that often starts first and foremost with our own mental health before anything else, because it controls the filter through which we see the world. if you don't like it in yourself you won't like it anywhere. when it comes to your social anxiety, are you receiving any support/would you be open to that? i think consistently seeing someone while you're in school - whether that's a counselor, a therapist, attending a support group or even just calling a hotline to begin with - could really help you manage the stress you're so afraid is waiting for you. having someone to talk to and learning why you are the way you are, and what tools could help you specifically in terms of coping mechanisms and finding a support network can honestly do wonders for your self esteem and the way you approach others. and of course it takes time, maybe that brand of self care is a lifelong process, but it's still important to engage with it. so balancing school with prioritizing your own wellbeing might be something that lightens the weight of the experience. anxiety tends to have us anticipating worst case scenarios and drawing on old insecurities to convince us we'll be alone and in pain forever, but what you've been through is truly not a mirror image of where you're going. making friends especially as an adult is fuckin hard, and struggling with it doesn't mean there's something irreparably wrong with you. just means it's hard to get to know ppl, but that's not a personal failing on your part. it's just a fact. most of them are too worried about their own 'flaws' to take note of yours. but that doesn't mean there aren't ppl out there you haven't met yet who will love you, even if that's hard to believe rn. also a side note, it could be a good idea to build up a routine where you're engaging in something that actively makes you happy at least a few times a week. can literally just be watching netflix, or taking up a hobby, meditating, going for a walk - i know college is v busy and it may not always be possible, but having small pockets of deliberate down time to look forward to is crucial. im not saying it'll cure everything or anything, just that it might make it all feel less overwhelming. but lastly, i want to say that it's ok if you give it a go and then decide you can't do it. that's an option, too. it doesn't have to be black and white. don't fault yourself for not wanting to spend 3 years doing something you hate, but also know that it's possible to get through it if it's a means to an end for you, especially if you seek the help you need. and whichever choice you go with, neither of them are 'wrong.' it's just your path.

anyway, i'm sorry this got super long. i think discussing it with someone you trust might be a good move, just to know that they have your back whether you work through uni or not. you're honestly doing so much better than you realize and i'm proud of you for continuing to try and strive despite how painful it all is. but i really hope that you can catch yourself when your brain is being unnecessarily unkind to you, and that you can then make the conscious choice to change the narrative and approach it from a place of patience and self appreciation. i think your life is still worth living even if it doesn't match up to where you think you should be, which is something i've been trying to accept lately too. that so much is beyond our control and we can literally only focus on the silver linings of the factors that are in our hands. that we can still be okay, living like that. and none of this is permanent, not the way it often seems like it is, but especially not the confusion. it just takes time to live the answers to all the existential questions you have. take it a day at a time. ANYWAY im rooting for you with all my heart and if you want to talk about this properly feel free to message me!! my overarching point is that you're not as alone as you feel. and you won't be in college, and you won't be if you look for work instead. so many of us understand where you're coming from. much love to you, take care 💗💗

[ribbonheartache]

I wanted to put some quotes here that I have accumulated over the years and kept in various random folders on my computer which I found helpful sometimes:

Waiting and not knowing is a large part of life.

Often, what we fear doesn’t happen in the end.

We all have our flaws; everyone is on a journey.

Expect to get things wrong and to mess things up at times.

A good and trusted friend truly is a gift and treasure.

Treat yourself and others with kindness and respect.

Be patient in your struggles as they teach important lessons.

Believe you have the grit to create the life you want. 

Don't make someone your priority when you are just an option.

This year I’ve had a lot of criticisms and I’m quite sensitive and it made me always feel angry and offended, but it also made me doubt myself and my abilities and as a result felt caged and wasn’t moving forward in life. I’ve had to step back, and just do what I like, and not care about what others think of me. Whatever you do, people are always going to criticise, especially when it comes to the creative stuff and being yourself, let them complain into nothingness, because it doesn’t matter. I do what I love and its not for you.

What a wonderful thought it is that some of the best days of our lives haven’t happened yet.

nostalgia is a liar. nothing was ever as good as you remember it to be. there’s a reason you don’t talk to that person anymore, there’s a reason you’re not part of each other’s lives. don’t trust nostalgia. grieve. reflect. move on.

when I see someone being a success, I think “that’s awesome” instead of “wish it were me

I think at the beginning everyone is scared and worried, it’s a natural feeling because you are putting something very personal on the internet, for everyone to see! I very much understand what you’re talking about because it was the same with me and sometimes I still feel that way, I am basically always worried about various things ahah! But I’d say, if you are forever blocked by your fears then you’d never achieve your dreams or goals, it might be difficult sometimes but most of the time I am sure you will enjoy creating something and trying to build your own brand or shop will be amazing <3 I hope you will overcome this and that you’ll start the adventure soon!

Life goes really quick and you’ll be dead soon. Don’t waste your time on this planet not wearing the clothes you want to wear, not doing the things you want to do, not eating the food you want to eat, not asking the people you’re crushing on out, not taking the job opportunities you want to take. Don’t waste your time comparing yourself to other people, don’t waste your time measuring your achievements against other people’s, don’t waste your time trying to live up to someone else’s expectations, stop caring about other people’s opinions, surround yourself with people who love you and make you feel the best about yourself, cut out all negativity remorselessly. 

Do you feel out of touch with reality? Like you're just going through the motions of living but you dont feel like it is you living it? I call these my moments in the fog, I drive and get to my destination without even knowing how! It is a very very hard thing to overcome, if you dont keep some friends these feelings will get worse! You will pull away from reality more and more and thats not good! I know its hard but try to keep atleast a few friends some type of human contact. Or the reality fading will worsen for sure! So I agree with everyone that tells you to keep friends! The FOG will over take your life if you let it!

First, it’s never your place to take on someone else’s problems as your own. So accept the fact right now that you can’t save anyone from themselves. This isn’t a movie or a tv show, things don’t wrap up neatly at the end just because someone comes along to say the Right Thing.

Generally speaking, it's better to not force things that are clearly not working out. People grow apart sometimes, it's sad but it happens, and it's better to let go and move on than to hold on to a relationship that is drifting apart.

please remember that in a healthy, adult relationship (romantic or not), you should be able to talk about things that are bothering you. if you are bottling up your emotions and holding it against someone when you haven’t told them what is wrong, you’re not engaging in healthy behaviour. but also, if your friend/significant other makes you feel as though you can’t talk about what bothers you- i.e. has made you feel guilty/gotten extraordinarily angry when things were brought up in the past- they are not engaging in healthy behaviour.

I think you have a wrong view of those happy happy girls. Many people choose to stay positive in life eventhough they experience setbacks or simply live life with a happy mask. Everyone(!) experiences setbacks, problems and/or sadness in their lives. Sure some more than others but it's wrong to assume that girls who are seemingly happy don't have a care in the world. You don't know what happens behind closed doors, in their private lives. You don't know what they choose not to tell.

maybe it's best to sit down and analyze yourself, how you come off and who you attract as friends. Anyone who wants new friends should do this.

Part of kawaii culture is about embracing the style you like and going against the grind! It's important that you remind yourself that you will stand out from the crowd and you will get stares, but try to treat that as a positive thing- you are interesting, different and cute! You are showing you have the bravery to express yourself the way you want, and anybody that scorns you for doing so is not worth your time of day. The more confidence you have, the better you will look.

Ask yourself: “What was my part in it?”Were you insensitive, uncaring or not thinking? If you made a mistake, used bad judgment, or did something hurtful to a friend, do some soul searching. Reflecting on the error of your ways can bring much needed insight and thoughtfulness to the situation.

Make amends. The fastest way to stop a friendship from derailing is saying “I’m sorry.” Take responsibility for your part. Even if you think your friend is being irrational or oversensitive, don’t invalidate their feelings or get defensive. Take the high road and be the bigger person. Conversely, if YOU’VE been wronged, accept their apologies, and quickly get back to the business of being friends.

Let go. If you’ve apologized like hell and there are still hard feelings, then it’s time to walk away. Don’t hold grudges, don’t grovel, don’t wait. Just send your ex-friend off with love and move forward with the friends you already have. “I don’t get mad, I don’t get even, I don’t cross you off my list. I don’t give it energy. I just make the decision to walk away, and I don’t look back.”

I hate to use this tired cliche, but what will help is if you lower your expectations from not only others, but yourself as well. Expect others not to rob or kill you, but as far being understood completely by others that may never happen. At least the way you want it to. A lot of my problems, at the core anyway, was that I desperately wanted people to see things the way I saw them, because I certainly tried to do the same, and I am usually able to. But like us, most people fumble their way through life without ever understanding themselves why they are the way they are in the first place, so how can I ask from them what they can't even give themselves.I guess all I'm really saying is cut yourself and others some slack. Sometimes just having someone to talk and interact with is enough to get you through the day even if they have no idea what your talking about.

You have to accept that as humans we have no control over our past, but absolute control over our future. If you're uncomfortable with your past you're going to spend a lot of time running away from it, but running away from this kind of stuff is like running on a treadmill; you end up moving neither forward nor backward. You also need to try lying down, playing some nice ambient music or some shit and actually try confronting yourself about your past actions.

I get sick of tumblr’s version of self care, which 90% of the time threads into this beautifully: go pet a fuzzy cute animal! pile up your favorite blankets from childhood and watch disney movies! take a nap! play a game from this list of cute soothings games! More realistically: go take a shower because it’s been three days. Wash the dishes that have been in the sink since last Friday that you can smell as soon as you open your door because rotting food stinks. Pick all your clothes off the floor because that’s where your entire wardrobe is and you’ve already cried today because you tripped over a sweater and realized the cat puked on it. Call someone who can give you enough courage to pay that bill you’ve been ignoring. Put away the crackers because that’s all you’ve eaten for two days straight. Apologize to the friends who are worried sick about you, and if you can’t at least let them know you are ok and need space. One of the most empowering types of self-care is responsibility, but tumblr just wants to sit in a closet strung with fairy lights and read their favorite fic.  “Cute” self-care for “cute” mental issues. That’s not reality.

Gray Rock is primarily a way of encouraging a psychopath, a stalker or other emotionally unbalanced person, to lose interest in you. It differs from No Contact in that you don’t overtly try to avoid contact with these emotional vampires. Instead, you allow contact but only give boring, monotonous responses so that the parasite must go elsewhere for his supply of drama. When contact with you is consistently unsatisfying for the psychopath, his mind is re-trained to expect boredom rather than drama. Psychopaths are addicted to drama and they can’t stand to be bored. With time, he will find a new person to provide drama and he will find himself drawn to you less and less often. Eventually, they just slither away to greener pastures. Gray Rock is a way of training the psychopath to view you as an unsatisfying pursuit — you bore him and he can’t stand boredom. 

If there is anything that gives my cold, cynical heart comfort it's that in the grand scheme of things I don't matter, nothing matters, we're all just chaotic seconds in everlasting entropy.

[beatmyaudio]

The Whole World Song Lyrics – Outkast Featuring Killer Mike

The Whole World Song Lyrics

The Whole World Song Lyrics From Popular Hollywood Artist Outkast Featuring Killer Mike from Album.

This song is sung by singer ” Outkast Featuring Killer Mike ” in Year 2002.

Lyrics of The Whole World :

okay here we goyeah im afraid like im scared as a dog but ive got a new song and i want yall to sing along sing alongsee this is the way that we walk on a sunny day when its rainin inside and youre all alone all alone yeahcause the whole world loves it when you dont get down bah bahda bah bah bahda da and the whole world loves it when you make that sound bah bahda bah bah bahda daand the whole world loves it when youre in the news bah bahda bah bah bahda da and the whole world loves it when you sang the blues bah bahda bah bah bahda datake a little trip hater pack up yo mind look forward not behind then youll see what you find i caught a sucker dyin cause he thought he could rhyme now if his momma is a quarter daughter must be a dimei gotta meet her dont take no shorts i dont use abbreviation i dont even play the radio neither only if i need to know the sports or the weather im a cool type of brother but yep your head ill sever from the necksee aint nuttin changed hit the stage set a date sucker in battle we can engage ill slice you wife you marry you divorce you throw the porsche at you is what im forced to dowith my back against the wall crack his back yall naw it aint went nowhere like havin hair with stylin gel in it throw a curl in it dread that nappy shit up throw a shell in itwhatever floats your boat or finds your lost remote and this for dem niggaz workin at the airport who got laid off i take my shades off if you look straight in my eyes you still might see a disguise because the whole whole world worldcause the whole world loves it when you dont get down bah bahda bah bah bahda da and the whole world loves it when you make that sound bah bahda bah bah bahda daand the whole world loves it when youre in the news bah bahda bah bah bahda da and the whole world loves it when you sang the blues bah bahda bah bah bahda daplayer i grind my focus is crime raw with the rhyme im slick with the slime my words are diamonds dug out a mine spit em polish look how they shineglitter glisten gloss floss i catch a beat runnin like randy moss ride dat bitch off like a brand new horse im rollin my stones gatherin no mossmami im comin i hope you get off or rock your own boat like aaliyah then talk back back forth forth get that sailor on course coursemake that track a corpse corpse rap roll utterly rocked with my mouth to the mic and my hand on my cock cadillac outkast just wont stopcause the whole world loves it when you dont get down bah bahda bah bah bahda da and the whole world loves it when you make that sound bah bahda bah bah bahda daand the whole world loves it when youre in the news bah bahda bah bah bahda da and the whole world loves it when you sang the blues bah bahda bah bah bahda daturn on the tv and everything is lookin dismal went in the bathroom medicine cabinet peptobismal need it for my stomach cause my tummy kinda aches like a junkie on withdrawal fresh up off the platewait back to the enemy of the state is the republicans or democratic candidate debate now even the black box hold the fate clueless like shaggy and scooby befo commercial breakhate extreme prejudice lets dismiss this if you want to you can dub it to your hit list i know you gon to we in this to replenish yo musical wish list when it come to this music we stay relentlesspursuing all thats persuable doing gods willing all things that are doable the only liable limitation is yourself dre set it on the right and ill set it on the left causecause the whole world loves it when you dont get down bah bahda bah bah bahda da and the whole world loves it when you make that sound bah bahda bah bah bahda daand the whole world loves it when youre in the news bah bahda bah bah bahda da and the whole world loves it when you sang the blues bah bahda bah bah bahda da

The Whole World Song Lyrics

Youtube Channel Link

Lyrics, Edit, English, Hollywood, Outkast Featuring Killer Mike, The Whole World from WordPress https://ift.tt/2V0USit via IFTTT

[igntctzojows-blog]

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Don’t Fake It ‘Till You Make It. Do This Instead.

New Post has been published on http://foursprout.com/happiness/dont-fake-it-till-you-make-it-do-this-instead/

Don’t Fake It ‘Till You Make It. Do This Instead.

God & Man

Earlier this week, as I was exploring a potential investment property, the real estate agent provided my with the range of rental incomes for the property. However, as an avid follower of Samuel Zemurray’s advice (“Never trust the report.”), I dug a bit deeper. I called two rental agencies who represented units in the building and got actual numbers for what the property earned.

As it happened, the numbers were quite good, on the high end or better than what the agent had estimated. When I saw this, I smiled, not only because of the good news, but because the agent had unintentionally followed another piece of advice related to that first piece of advice.

It comes from the great John Boyd. In his wonderful biography of the eccentric fighter pilot and military reformer, Robert Coram tells a story about a case that Boyd was attempting to make against the B-1 Bomber. After finding what he felt was definitive proof that the plane wasn’t going to work and was horribly over budget, Boyd declined to use these numbers. Instead, as Coram writes,

“Boyd did not want to take these numbers to the Air Force, not yet. He ordered Leopold to recompute everything as a “best case,” that is, to give the B-1 advocates the benefit of every doubt. Every time Leopold had a choice of numbers, he was to use the most conservative. This meant that under scrutiny, and the Air Force would indeed subject the study to the most rigorous scrutiny, the numbers would only get worse; that is, any adjustments would show only higher costs.”

The agent I was speaking with could have stretched the truth. He could have given me optimistic numbers about the rental prospects of the property. Most clients would probably not only not notice, but would in fact extend it further with their own wishful thinking. But some people will check and if they catch you exaggerating, as the Air Force was hoping to do with many of Boyd’s criticisms, they’ll have the perfect excuse to stop listening.

In this case, finding that the potential upside of the investment was greater than expected, created a number of benefits for the agent. I trust him implicitly now as I know he is not the type to make a hard sale. I am now comfortable that the investment works even with this conservative math. And most of all, one of the excuses I was looking for as a buyer—one should always look for reasons not to do something they are excited to do—has evaporated.

Again, this was more than just a tactical insight from Boyd. When he was in high school he took an IQ test that, clearly by way of some error, said he had an IQ of 90. Yet even at that age, he was smart enough to refuse to take the test again. He felt he’d just been given an enormous advantage. For the rest of the life, he would tell people about that score and cultivated a reputation as a dumb jock, a simple fighter pilot. Those who believed this first impression would eventually rue underestimating him.

Yet what is the advice that we give most people? It is exactly the opposite of this! Fake it until you make it. Act the part. Market your best qualities the loudest. What are we telling people here? We’re telling them, in short, to over-promise. We’re asking them to misrepresent the numbers—about their skills, their confidence, their understanding—and hope they don’t get caught.

That has always struck me as a horrible way to kick off one’s career…and a worse way to continue one.

As far as branding goes, many more established people fall into the same trap. They master appearances and positioning and copywriting in a way that often papers over weaknesses or flaws. They look great on their website or in their work, but meet them in real life and you’re disappointed. God forbid you end up getting a look under the hood—at their real financials for instance or just have the experience of hiring them—and you’re just disgusted. And you’ll never make that mistake again.

Early on in my life, after having a couple encounters with people whose work had painted a very different picture of who they were, I decided I would make Boyd’s strategy my overall life strategy. Call it the Boydian Lowball. On a more tactical level, I wanted to make sure that if I was, say, challenging someone’s project or idea, I would give them the benefit of the doubt first (Peter Thiel calls this the “steel man” tactic). I wouldn’t use the stick just because I had it, but reserve it for later. But on a more personal level, I wanted to make sure whatever brand I created as a writer or a public figure undersold the goods.

I want my bio to understate my accomplishments. The sales figures I use or the stats I mention in my writing are going to be conservatively proven rather than optimistically expressed. When I edit my writing, I actually try to go back through and soften certainty and intensity. Because that’s more honest, even if slightly less compelling.

Another example: I give a lot of talks to groups and sports teams and conferences because of my books. First off, it’s always interesting to me, knowing a lot of other people who do this for a living, how much insane exaggeration there is in the industry about what other people get paid. I don’t engage in any of that. But when I give talks at the end, there’s usually a long Q&A session, which I love doing. A significant portion of the time, after the event is over, one of the organizers will thank me for doing the Q&A and express appreciation that I was good at it. That struck me as off, of course I should be good at answering questions about what I just talked about. I mean, that’s my job and it’s why you hired me. The first few times this happened, I asked what they meant. Are other people not good at Q&A? It turns out, no, they aren’t. They give great polished talks but when it comes time to speaking extemporaneously they can’t perform.

To me, this is a great example of the dangers of overpromising. If you present yourself as an expert about something, you better be able to deliver on it all the way through. Many speakers can practice a talk until it looks masterful but can’t actually speak about the topic (or related topics) authoritatively. The worst part for them is that the Q&A comes at the end of the talk, so they leave the stage having followed up their initially positive impressive with a negative one.

My goal as a writer and as a person is to undersell and overdeliver. There is very little upside in the long term at attracting fans to your work by posting pictures of you on a private jet. Or talking about how much money you make—particularly if you are exaggerating that number for effect. The same goes for name dropping. Or adding extra labels to your name. Ryan is an angel investor, entrepreneur, MENSA member, whatever.

Be who you are. Let your work speak for itself. Let it speak quietly too.

You should avoid these things beyond the minimum not only because you don’t want to be a douche. Or rather, when you’re a douche, you also make yourself a target, and the more you do it, the bigger the target gets. I can think of one author I know who has upwardly inflated his sales figures for many years. Not only do I think this has deprived him of the real pleasure of enjoying what he actually accomplished, the bad habit has fed on itself and created a cycle of exaggeration and attention seeking. Sadly, I don’t think the deceit is even intentional at this point. It’s been repeated enough times for long enough that the author believes it. Dishonesty is bad for the soul and when it becomes a behavior tic—driven by ego—it begs for a hit piece by a journalist.

As I wrote in Conspiracy, the founder of Gawker, Nick Denton is a good example of this dance in both senses. On the one hand, the company benefited for a long time by making itself look bigger and more powerful than it was. This deterred most of its enemies. Gawker also deterred its enemies by exaggerating its weaknesses, as Denton explained to Playboy, “I lower everyone’s commercial expectations. ‘Oh, nothing to see here. There’s no business here. This thing has the revenue of a hamburger stand. We have no journalistic ambitions. If we ever commit journalism, it’s by accident.’”

And again, this worked for a long time. The problem was that eventually someone, in this case the billionaire Peter Thiel, actually checked. What he found was that both the extreme elements of Gawker’s branding—that it was a large, powerful media outlet that shouldn’t be messed with and conversely, that it didn’t have any assets or ambitions—were misrepresentations. Thiel did the math himself and found there was something to go after and at the same time, Gawker was perhaps a paper tiger that needn’t be feared.

And the result? A $140 million dollar, bankruptcy-inducing verdict against Gawker.

That is why you don’t want to bullshit people. Why you don’t get too far out over your skis.

Because if you get caught, you will fall. It will hurt.

Being underestimated, underselling is better anyway. Provided that it’s backed up, ultimately, by impressive goods. One of the most powerful and viral emotions is surprise. Use that.

Be more articulate than they expect. Nicer in person than they would have thought. Have more ideas than interns usually do. Make honesty a policy where few do. Be in way better financial shape than anyone would guess. Reveal that new or interesting hobby later, after they already like you. Keep that stick behind your back until you really need it—pull it out an whack them with it right while they’re in the middle of doubting you.

That’s what real winners do. And they do it while posers are both busy pretending to be those things and paranoid they’re about to be caught for it.

Like to Read? I’ve created a list of 15 books you’ve never heard of that will alter your worldview and help you excel at your career. Get the secret book list here!   

[double-birds-blog]

Just Be Honest About What You’re Doing

By Chase Woodruff

On Saturday, in response to a question from ESPN’s Mark Saxon, Dexter Fowler voiced his opposition to the Trump administration’s failed attempt to ban entry to the U.S. by nationals of seven Muslim-majority countries, including Iran, where his wife Darya was born and many of his extended family still live. The story got picked up on social media, and Fowler quickly became the target of waves of criticism and abuse.

The volume and intensity of the backlash was shocking. Here’s just a small sample of some of the comments made in response to the story: “We pay your salary. I don’t give a shit about your political views!” “Maybe he should have brought them over sooner then he wouldn’t have a wet diaper.” “Fuck fowler who cares what he thinks.” “Why is it that the only athletes that are displeased with the President are black? Who’s the one’s being racist?” “Why the hell do these over paid actors and sports figures think WE GIVE A FUCK WHAT THEY HAVE TO SAY. Just do what you are paid to do and that is to entertain normal Americans.” “I have no patience anymore for dumbass stupid ass people who keep assisting that illegal aliens are simply immigrants.” “Many Presidents have done this, even Obummer. Fowler is just butthurt.” “He can share all his contract money with the immigrants.” “I don’t want to hear that b******* we pay him to play ball and that’s it.” “Fowler deserves a fastball right between his racist eyes.” “Shut up and go enjoy your $80 million how stupid.” “You’re paid to play, not to spew your political bullshit.” “Uneducated about what the Pres is trying to do for Blacks. Too bad.” “Move to Iran Dexter.” “I guess Dextor was thrilled with all the killings in Chicago last year, as he didn’t post anything about that.” “Wow another overpaid minority has an issue with a Republican?? Shut your ass up.”

No one gave a shit about any of these comments, though, because all of them were posted on a Facebook page called “Chicago Cubs True Fans” (I have no idea, either). Here are some more: “Glad he left.” “Traitor.” “That’s why he went to St. Louis.” “Well he obviously dont like winning hating trump and going to the cards.” “Guess it’s time to burn my Cubs Fowler jersey!” “Go to your St Loooey hellhole and stay there… an oh yeah, STFU.” “Thank Goodness we got rid of him, another crybaby…” “Go Cubs! Go Trump!” “Dexter just became the enemy even more now for me.” “Shut the fuck up traitor!! Who cares what you have to say!” “And I care what you think, why??? You overpaid incredibly lucky, person. Glad your no longer in Chicago!!!” “He isn’t worthy of the phrase former cub.” “Glad your gone BLM MAN FOWLER, and in the mean time , just maybe you can get your head out of clintons corrupt ass ? FUCK YOU SNOWFLAKE MFER.”

This went on and on and on—Cubs fans, hundreds of them, taking time out of their day to hurl cruel and in many cases plainly racist invective towards a player who doesn’t even play for their team anymore.

But as usual, the only abuse Baseball Twitter cared about or bothered to acknowledge was the abuse posted to “St. Louis Cardinals True Fans” (again, no idea). By now this process is so rote that there’s little need for me to explain what happened. The anonymous parasite behind the account @BestFansStLouis took screenshots of some of the worst comments and posted them to Twitter. They went viral, first and foremost among Cubs fans. The c o l o s s a l p i l l a r o f w a s p e g g s internet’s healthy and edifying aggregation ecosystem, from HardballTalk to The Comeback to SB Nation to Uproxx, jumped at the prefab content. Monday arrived and we hit the thinkpiece stage. Cardinals fans objected to being singled out once again, and here I am, writing the same shit I always do.

This is a tremendously efficient feedback loop, and it kicks into gear whenever any of the millions of people who proclaim themselves Cardinals fans do something stupid or offensive, and—let’s be clear—does so only when that happens. It kicks into gear when Cardinals fans say awful things to protesters outside Busch Stadium, but not when Orioles fans get physically violent with protesters outside Camden Yards. It gets activated on a massive and instantaneous scale when a single anonymous Twitter user lies about hearing slurs at Busch on a national TV broadcast, but not when David Price himself reports hearing racist taunts from Red Sox fans at Fenway. It’s why Oakland A’s fans are not notorious for their homophobia. It’s why this t-shirt is infamous and these aren’t.

And it’s why the story that got reported over the last couple days wasn’t that Fowler had been attacked by Cubs fans, or even that he’d been attacked by baseball fans in general—or by Facebook users, or by morons and bigots, or by older, conservative white men, all of which are true. The story was only that he’d been attacked by Cardinals fans. To report it any other way would risk disrupting the feedback loop.

There isn’t, and there never has been, any evidence that this is a useful way to frame this story or others like it. There is no evidence that the Cardinals have a singularly racist fanbase. There is no evidence that, as Will Leitch argues, Cardinals fans are disproportionately from rural areas, which are presumed to be more racist than urban areas (the gap is probably smaller than you think). There is only—there has only ever been—the @BestFansStLouis feedback loop, lizard-brain sports-fan tribalism, heaps of confirmation bias, and more than a small amount of naked classism and snobbery.

I am so unbelievably fucking tired of having to talk about this. I’ve given up hope that the cycle is ever going to end; the incentives—social and professional, emotional and economic—for the people involved to perpetuate it are just too great. But here’s my request, if you’re one of those people: for the love of God, try to be a little more honest about what you’re doing. If you like tweeting about the awful racist meth-addled BFIB, be honest about the fact that you just want to feel a little momentary superiority, to be comforted by the sense that your fanbase isn’t the Bad One. If you’re a baseball blogger writing up a @BestFansStLouis screenshot, be honest about why you know that post is going to do good numbers. If you want to wax soporific about America Is Us and We Are America and What It All Means, or if you want legitimize an unsubstantiated, counterproductive narrative by reaffirming your status as One of the Good Cardinals Fans, be honest about it, even if only with yourself.

Just don’t tell yourself or anyone else that you’re waging a high-minded battle against the forces of ignorance and injustice by posting get_a_brain_morans.jpeg for the thousandth goddamn time. No one seriously engaged in that fight has ever given a moment’s thought to who was or wasn’t in which brand of children’s-game laundry, and anyone who does—anyone whose reaction to bigotry or abuse depends on the fanbase it’s coming from—is only admitting that they’re privileged enough not to have to give a shit in the first place.