#logorrhea

[icarusissleepy]

Chronosonder

i.e. The realization that people of the past had lives just as real, full, and human as you. They laughed, gossiped, had breakdowns, and made dick jokes (seriously. so much of ancient graffiti consists of dick jokes)

From 'Chronos' meaning 'measured, ticking, quantitative time' and;

'Sonder' meaning 'the feeling of realizing that everyone, including strangers passing in the street, has a life as complex as one's own'

[garudabluffs]

Can Trump be sued for being a public menace for having Logorrhea?

Answer

While Donald Trump can potentially be sued for various reasons, being a "public menace" due to "logorrhea" (excessive talkativeness) {a.k.a. diarrhea-of-the-mouth} is not a specific legal cause of action. However, Trump has faced and continues to face numerous legal challenges related to his actions and statements.

As of February 2025, Trump is involved in several ongoing legal battles:

He faces 34 felony counts for falsifying business records related to hush money payments1.

Trump has been found civilly liable for sexual assault3.

The Trump Organization was convicted of tax fraud3.

Civil rights groups have sued Trump over anti-DEIA (Diversity, Equity, Inclusion, and Accessibility) executive orders6.

The Associated Press has filed a lawsuit against the Trump administration for denying press access over the use of "Gulf of Mexico" instead of "Gulf of America"7.

While these lawsuits don't specifically address "logorrhea," they demonstrate that Trump is subject to legal scrutiny for various actions and policies. It's important to note that the First Amendment generally protects freedom of speech, making it difficult to sue someone solely for excessive talking6.

If Trump's statements were to cross into the realm of defamation, threats, or incitement, those could potentially be grounds for legal action. However, as a public figure, the bar for proving defamation against Trump would be quite high.

[puutterings]

perverter of truth; wanted to putter

        “You’re a perverter of truth!” were his first words, as she entered.       “Look here, Timothy Pitkin,” retorted Mrs. Gray, with some asperity, “what do you mean by talking to me that way?��       “I mean,” replied Timothy, “that Phyllis and I have been in the kitchen, where Phyllis has been puttering ever since we had the pleasure of leaving your precious smallpoxed company this morning. There were two letters for Phyllis in the morning’s mail, but she wanted to putter, and did not open the letters until a few minutes ago. One of them was from Mabel Moore, who is now at Dobb’s Ferry, and has been at Dobb’s Ferry since Thursday. She left the hospital Wednesday. Now, will you please tell me how you could have spent the afternoon with her at Roosevelt Hospital yesterday?”  

ex Albert Lee, “Miss Phoenix,” in Lippincott’s Monthly Magazine 91:542 (February 1913) : 129-174 (159) U Michigan copy/scan (via google books) : link U Chicago copy/scan (one of several view hathitrust) : link same, opens to p 159 : link

—

rather more on and around, at 478  

[seasideretreat]

Cities

Cities are the natural congregations of human agents. Everybody ought to live in cities, but there is a lot of crazy things about living in the world that make us fear the essence of being alive. Things are useful, and living in cities ought to be useful, but the entity of being is invisible, and cannot be realized; in this sense, every inch of normal reality is subservient to crazy automaticity that gives strength to the reintroduction of crazy things into the vast infinity of being alive.

Aristotle said: man is a political animal. We can only wholeheartedly agree. It would seem ordinary people deserve a place in a city; there ought to be constant knowledge, and in this wise, we are confronted with awful and controversial directives that move into the nonsensical creations of normal attitudes that work automatically into nothingness; but we do nothing weird, but we live in normal areas, and the reality of things is that weird things that don't matter in any particular situation that really matters - but the things are idiotic, but they contribute to a mad reality, without controlling the nonsensicality of being normal.

Lewis Mumford said a lot about cities. He analyzed Greek cities and other cities. It was a remarkable investigation. Here we see the nonsensicality of real cityscapes. The process of cities is contained in the reality of being automatically alive, but there cannot be a profound reality in the normality of great things that really conveys the nobility of the pure city, such as it exists in history. The growth of cities brought about a mighty automaton that controlled a higher love for the profuse directions of sensible ideosyncrasy that gives us a meaning that may support the crazy development of industrial realities, which constantly create a higher and higher simplicity, without which there cannot be nothing in the directives of normal congregation in the facility of normal structure in the vast might of structural epigrammic disciplining in the sprawling systematicity in the normal flow of direct automatics that mean something in the flowing craziness of direct revolution in the mean down low of normal directions towards the normal creation of a new world order, that supports the nothingness of proper names and the growing simplicity of being normal.

These things have shown us the heavy weight of the constabulary of powerful literature. Thought, or literacy, brings about a simple foundation for the normality of normal directionalism, that goes nowhere but that seeks to bring normality to us in a humble, simplified way, which will lift us up to happy normality and yet, give us the main ordinality of real order in the growing seismic totality of great war and simplified ideosyncrasy. The meaningful flow of vast totalities is ingratiated to matter of factly crusading, that supports the reliance of warmachines on the normal structures of human misery, that nonetheless support the happiness of ordinary structurings, in the growing directionality of direct interaction with the profound world, that gives us happiness, but that will never reoccur in the battlefield of simple combat.

[art-of-mathematics]

Palindromatic logorrhea - is this even something? or is it a cursed writing idea?

[solhaechan]

as a fellow gemini who doesn't really know much about astrology what are the most common gemini traits? maybe the ones you see in yourself and other people you know irl

Okay disclaimer, not trying to stereotype here, but this is what I've observed in myself, gemini's I know and those I idolize

Adaptable/versatile/multifaced

Tendency to adapt themselves to situations and people around them; what would be acceptable in this situation/with this person? I have many different faces and very few people get to see all of them because I pick what I show you based on what you reflect back at me. If I seek to interact with you, I will mirror you where I find common ground. But then again, if I do not seek to do so, you will be met with a closed door and a sarcastic politeness at most. This is often the case when the social battery is empty or simply because I don't vibe with you. I can clearly see this with Haechan; we often see the bright bubbly personality, but there are some vids where you can see he's tired and speaks only out of duty or to make dry/sarcastic jokes.

Curious/inquisitive/noisy

Natural curiosity when it comes to my direct environment; I want to know everything from my direct circle and can even be noisy. What's the latest tea? What did you do the other day? Oh, you're doing something and I don't know what? I'll be looking over your shoulder to see for myself. On the other hand, true to the two faced nature of the gemini, there can also be an utter disinterest in matters that don't spark my curiosity. I can be completely uneducated on certain matters and not care in the slightest bit, nor can you change my mind because I'm stubborn. The change of my mind will occur from my own accord; usually by chance when I come accross something about the matter that suddenly does spark my interest. This is were gemini's can be considered fickle/volatile, because now I've suddenly changed my mind? If interest is necessary, e.g. adult responsibilities or school work, laziness is sparked and things will be explored at a snail's pace or procastinated. This whole paragraph is something I also saw in my ex, a fellow gemini, a lot.

Witty/cocky/smartass/clever/funny/no filter

I have grouped these all together because they often go hand-in-hand.

Quick with responses especially in arguments, to make a point myself or to immediately make yours invalid; the responses/reactions can come so quickly and unfiltered/with no thoughts behind them that it leaves others flabbergasted and often amused. Dry, sarcastic, witty responses, you name it. They come naturally and a gemini will be smug about it; you might experience a urge to punch them in the face (*cough* Haechan *cough*, my father's gemini bestfriend). I have heard so many times in my life that my irl reactions to things are hilarious and I am often a source of unadulturated laughter for my loved ones. A mood lifter if you will. This is also a key trait of gemini's; we can act unhinged, publicly and without shame, if we know for certain it will lead to a desired reaction. The desired reaction not always being laughter.

(Emotional) Intelligence/observant

Can read the room well; goes slightly hand-in-hand with the adaptability. Will observe first to decide how to interact. Quicker to read between the lines and recognize implicit meanings/thoughts; quick to reassure loved ones when these implicit thoughts are self-depreciating (I've seen Haechan do this and I do it myself too). Seeks intellectual matches in their relationships and the ability to have philosophical conversations as these are highly stimulating. These are the people I tend to be closest with. If these matches are found, I find that a gemini is extremely loyal. When this is not the case, for me personally, the popular stereotyped 'easily bored, quick to lose interest' gemini comes out.

[vitanithepure]

Uuuggghh, I shouldn't be struggling this much with writing.

What started out as a warm-up for a much longer piece turned into an already 1200+ word fic that got a life of its own. And because I have not planned it ahead, I don't know where to freaking end. It just goes on and on, and new things just... appear and I obviously don't know how to stop >.<

I swear I actually forgot how to write. I never was a pantser yet here we are. I'm on a train and I don't know where it's going or if I even have a ticket.

[say-duhnelle]

sometimes I see a tumblr post and it's like wow what an insightful take on a subject I hadn't given much thought and other times I'll see a tumblr post and it's like oh my God will you please learn where your fucking carriage return key is and how to use it

[evilvillain123456789]

lets see... "About Me." Well, first off, when I say I listen to all music, I really mean all of it. Rap, Country, freeform jazz, goregrind, plunderfonix, soft rock, harsh noise, black midis, brown notes, drone😜, groan, progesterone, Brazilian throat singing, Mongolian bossanova, Appalachian lined-out hymnody, Christian dubstep, Wahhabi shoegaze, blue metal, black grass, dungeon synth, DPRKpop, modal plainsong, and yes, even "hyper Pop"... The only thing is I don't fuck with ANY music made by women OR femmes. Grimes is okay during her tomboy era, as is Britney Spears specifically with the shaved head, but if you're here hoping to see posts about Ethel, Chapelle, Megan, Bjork, Mitsky, Anohni, Tori, Lizzo, Blondie, Haella, Pharmakon, Azealea Banks, Iggy Azalea, Iggy Pop, Jeff Magnum, Marc Almond, Macy Gray, Beyoncé, trampdog, suckstamps, Nancy Sinatra, Alice Coltrane, your mom, my mom, auntie's harp, grandmother's hands, or any other she/her in the business, you're gonna leave disappointed. It's personal, it's complicated, and no, I will not 🚫 explain. Anything else? Name, age😏 , pronouns, DNI? Grow the fuck up, put on your big boy pants, click through to my Medium and comb through decades of epileptic logorrhea LIKE AN ADULT. I hate this website sometimes, I swear... Oh and before you ask

😠 it's always okay to reblog my nudes........😠..

[mandy4ever69420]

like, the white boy carl thing is absolutely supposed to make the viewer uncomfortable, it very effectively demonstrates WHY it's weird when white people over- and misuse AAVE, even when well intended. it's difficult to imagine any way to be more well intended than carl is in this plotline - he has pretty good reason to believe he's part black, all of his friends and idols are black, and he's really really trying to emulate the people he looks up to. a lot of kids, especially with identity issues (say, someone who has no role models they can trust - you can pretty well track exactly when carl and debbie lose faith/gain in frank and then fiona) will absolutely try to mold themselves as closely as they can to fit people they MIGHT be able to look up to.

he is, nevertheless, someone who benefits from white privilege, and it's just naturally very awkward to hear from him, especially the 2 times he tries to use the n word in a "friendly" manner. watching this plot i remember trying to figure out how you'd explain where exactly the problem lies, particularly to a little kid. you know, You can't be talking like that, white baby. V tries, i'd hoped she'd get through, but she's got her own shit going on, and doesnt - and shouldnt have to bother to - figure out exactly what carl thinks is going on in order to explain to him where he went wrong. tbh - i do think i prefer that he didn't get it, it'd be weird as hell to expect a random black woman he happens to know to be his great and wise educator.

as much as carl wearing braids and dressing in the style he does is appropriative, i didn't think it was framed as a fully good thing when they were taken out - moreso that this indicated that fiona directly associated black hairstyles with criminality, and to get rid of one she had to remove the other. like, for sure, wearing his hair like that was weird, but not as weird as when frank went out of his way to style his hair like that to play at "criminal" later on.

carl is protective towards nick and people assume that because of nick's size and race that he'd be the tough guy (eg. when a shopkeeper carl helped extort described nick as what makes carl intimating) -- most notably, fiona is intimated by nick - in part because, despite her own conviction, she still thinks she's better than other people in prison. she can't imagine that anyone else would have a reason for why they broke the law, or that getting caught is more of a moral failure than anything else. she sort of freaks out when she hears nick killed his dad, but i remember feeling a shitload of sympathy - "he killed his dad" sounds less like "he must be messed up" and more like "holy shit, what was his dad doing?" to me, every time.

shameless makes a LOT of points pretty loudly about people's actions and beliefs mattering more than the language they use and this is the loudest occurrence i can think of, and it even takes the time to say that the language he uses still matters, even if less so than who he respects or how he materially treats people.

earlier on we get glimpses of carl's disposition of sort of being socially awkward, protective, and getting easily attached enough to lean into mimicry, but this is i think the first place where he really gets his own plot that branches out from the family unit plotline, since he's sort of old enough to go places, and isn't relying so heavily on his older siblings. it's also the most intense mimicry we see from him thusfar - IMO, he mimics kelly pretty hard, as well as dominique's dad, but since these people speak the same dialect, and run in mostly the same cultural spheres, it might not stick out as much to other people.

side note, carl is the one other kid i'd find it most believable to not be frank's. a lot of his coping mechanisms and problems are pretty different than what other family members default to (fiona and debbie both have a lot in common with him in interesting ways). also, his actor is half mexican which they seem to semi-canonize w "dna testing" (pseudoscience, btw, those can't tell you your race, but lipan apache are indigenous to parts of texas) & in the narrative "aura" of his plot with anne and the gonzalez family. doesn't really matter, it's not like there's any way he'd know that.

(also, selling cocaine is a more moral and ethical career path than becoming a cop. selling weapons is questionable, but still not as bad)

you got any more “controversial” shameless takes?

probably unlimited bc im relentlessly political and most fandom people are like, fandom style people. example: lip telling campus cops that kenyatta tried to sell him crack was way more racist than anything carl did until he became a cop. and even so, all of carl's "cop" plotline was an extended explanation, basically directly to the audience's face, as to why fixing the system "from within" cannot and will not work

[literaryvein-reblogs]

100 "Beautiful" Words

for your next poem/story

Accouchement - the time or act of giving birth

Allemande - a dance step with arms interlaced

Anent - about, concerning

Anthophilous - feeding upon or living among flowers

Aphyllous - destitute of foliage leaves

Apophenia - the tendency to perceive a connection between unrelated things

Apoplectic - extremely enraged

Badinage - playful repartee; banter

Belaud - to praise usually to excess

Chromophil - staining readily with dyes

Coeval - of the same or equal age, antiquity, or duration

Cognoscente - a person who has expert knowledge in a subject

Cruciferous - any of a family of plants including the cabbage, turnip, and mustard

Deliquescent - tending to melt or dissolve

Diallelus - a reasoning in a circle

Elide - to leave out of consideration

Emulous - inspired by or deriving from a desire to emulate

Epergne - an often ornate tiered centerpiece consisting typically of a frame of wrought metal (e.g., gold) bearing dishes, vases, or candle holders or a combination of these

Epexegesis - additional explanation or explanatory matter

Fructify - to bear fruit

Funambulism - a show especially of mental agility

Galbulus - a spherical closed fleshy cone of thickened or fleshy peltate scales

Grenadine - an open-weave fabric of various fibers

Haematite - a reddish-brown to black mineral consisting of ferric oxide, constituting an important iron ore, and occurring in crystals

Hyaline - something that is transparent

Ianthine - having a violet color

Impresa - a device with a motto used in the 16th and 17th centuries; emblem

Ineluctable - not to be avoided, changed, or resisted

Indite - to put down in writing

Jacinthe - a moderate orange

Jiqui - a Cuban timber tree with hard wood very resistant to moisture

Kincob - an Indian brocade usually of gold or silver or both

Kvell - to be extraordinarily proud

Labret - an ornament worn in a perforation of the lip

Lachrymator - a tear-producing substance (such as tear gas)

Latericeous - of the color of red brick

Legerity - alert facile quickness of mind or body

Limnology - the scientific study of bodies of fresh water

Logorrhea - excessive and often incoherent talkativeness or wordiness

Maieutic - relating to the Socratic method of eliciting new ideas from another

Maquillage - makeup

Marmoreal - of marble

Matronymic - a name derived from that of the mother or a maternal ancestor

Mazarine - mazarine blue; a deep purplish blue

Mirifical - working wonders

Nacarat - geranium lake (i.e., a vivid red)

Nephology - a branch of meteorology dealing with clouds

Notabilia - things worthy of note

Obnubilate - becloud, obscure

Obstreperous - marked by unruly or aggressive noisiness

Oenology - a science that deals with wine and wine making

Ombrophilous - capable of withstanding or thriving in the presence of much rain

Organdy - a very fine transparent muslin with a stiff finish

Palafitte - an ancient dwelling built on piles over a lake

Pareidolia - the tendency to perceive a specific, often meaningful image in a random or ambiguous visual pattern

Peregrinate - to travel especially on foot

Peristyle - an open space enclosed by a colonnade

Perse - of a dark grayish blue resembling indigo

Personalia - biographical or personal anecdotes or notes

Phylactery - amulet

Piacular - sacrificial, expiatory

Pleonasm - the use of more words than those necessary to denote mere sense; redundancy

Poetomachia - a contest of poets; specifically: a literary quarrel of Elizabethan dramatists

Prasine - having the green color of a leek

Prestidigitation - sleight of hand

Psilanthropy - a doctrine of the merely human existence of Christ

Psychomachy - a conflict of the soul

Quaesitum - something sought for; end

Quatenus - in the quality or capacity of

Rebarbative - repellent, irritating

Rhapsodize - to speak or write in a rhapsodic (i.e., extravagantly emotional) manner

Rheophilous - preferring or living in flowing water

Rupestrian - composed of rock

Salmagundi - a heterogeneous mixture; potpourri

Sanative - having the power to cure or heal

Sciaphilous - thriving in shade

Subitaneous - formed or taking place suddenly or unexpectedly

Tellurian - a dweller on the earth

Tergiversation - evasion of straightforward action or clear-cut statement

Terpsichorean - of or relating to dancing

Threnody - a song of lamentation for the dead

Tilleul - a pale greenish yellow that is very slightly paler than primrose green

Tmesis - separation of parts of a compound word by the intervention of one or more words

Toadstone - a stone or similar object held to have formed in the head or body of a toad and formerly often worn as a charm or antidote to poison

Toxophilite - a person fond of or expert at archery

Transmogrify - to change or alter greatly and often with grotesque or humorous effect

Ubiquitarian - belief that as Christ is omnipresent his body is everywhere (as in the Eucharist)

Urtication - to induce hives

Vicissitudinous - marked by or filled with vicissitudes (i.e., the quality of being changeable)

Videlicet - that is to say; namely

Visitant - visitor; especially: one thought to come from a spirit world

Wallydraigle - a feeble, imperfectly developed, or slovenly creature

Waltherite - a mineral consisting of an ill-defined carbonate of bismuth having green to brownish green doubly terminated prismatic crystals

Xyloid - resembling wood

Xylomancy - divination by means of pieces of wood

Xystus - a long and open portico

Yfere - obsolete: together

Zoism - phenomena of life are due to a peculiar vital principle

Zymology - a science that deals with fermentation

Zymurgy - a branch of applied chemistry that deals with fermentation processes (as in wine making or brewing)

If any of these words make their way into your next poem/story, please tag me, or send me a link. I would love to read them!

More: Lists of Beautiful Words ⚜ Word Lists ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

[thinkingotherwise]

Hello! I read your post about Sugishita with a talkative reader. So, could you write for Hayato Suo with a reader who's talkative? Like, she's so passionate about talking that she explains every little detail perfectly. (I'm the chatterbox of my class and I've gotten scolded many times but I'm shameless.)

With that, the reader is also stubborn af so she needs a reasonable argument otherwise she ain't gonna be convinced.

The reader loves fairness. She can't stand if anything unreasonable is happening in front of her.

Oh well actually, if you want the reader can be gender neutral. I just asked like three requests at once. 💀 If you want you don't have to do it all! <3

As an introvert, I'm in awe of every person who is talkative, or as you called them a "chatterbox" - I know I could never.

Hayato is just so fucking majestic.

Hayato Suou x Talkative! reader

You were a very passionate person, who couldn't stay in silence for longer than a few minutes. The words had just always easily flown out of your mouth and it sometimes could get you in trouble. However, your words also helped to get you and others out with their problems. Growing up it was tricky to find the perfect balance of your talkativeness and the patience of your classmates, teachers, or even neighbours.

It was a little hard to find a person that could keep up with you, or at least didn't mind your ramblings. Hayato was perfect for that. Not only did he humour you during your rant sessions, but he also effortlessly kept up with your heated discussions.

You could spend hours upon hours talking about something and when he caught the wind of those times he would prepare some tea and snacks. That would make your discussions more comfortable and you would feel like your passion for talking was encouraged.

Hayato didn't mind your ramblings finding them amusing and informative. He couldn't also fathom how you could talk so much that during your logorrhea (stream of words), you'd change topics so much. Once, you started talking about the dinner with your friends you had the day before, going through the dilemma of whether pineapple should be on pizza, and finishing with sudden fun facts about different types of paint, with many more in between. It was still a mystery how you ended up completely detached from the first thoughts you shared.

When Hayato had his agility and martial arts skills to back up his testing words, you depended only on your phrases. You were an expert, and could easily out-talk anyone that started an argument with you. Your boyfriend thought it was pretty amazing how you could stand up to anyone with only words.

You used your talent for talking also to stand up for others, not being fond of some people putting down others thinking they were above them. "Excuse me, but it's not what I wanted." You heard a voice from your side from a woman, that previously stood in front of you in the queue. You were in the cafe with Hayato in the middle of ordering some desserts for yourself when she cut in and pushed you to the side. "I'm sorry, but that's what you ordered, Miss." The cashier said trying to be calm about the situation. "No, I wanted it with more milk and not this poor excuse of milk but the oat milk." She articulate it even more smashing the cup on the counter and spilling it. "I'm sorry Miss but you didn't inform us about it when taking the order, we confirmed it with you and you didn't say anything about the different type of milk you'd like to use. If you want we can-" The cashier said starting to get nervous as she fiddled with her fingers.

Your eyes widened when the fussing woman cut off not even listening to the barista. You were boiling all over and Hayato seeing that placed his hand around your waist and moved it in circles trying to calm you down before you could join the argument. "Of course, I did, you're just not listening to me. If you can't do your job correctly, then I don't know why you're still working here." The woman continued pushing the cup over the counter and into the cashier. "Miss, please listen-" "I'm not listening to someone so incompetent like-" She cut off the employee again and you had enough.

You pushed away from Hayato and heard him sighing in amusement as he knew what was about to happen. "Okay, that's enough." Your voice cut in firmly and the woman looked at you scowling. "Miss, you're clearly out of it, if you think you can be mean like that to someone who's working harder than you." "What? You're such disrespectful little-" You didn't let her finish just like she did with the cashier and continued on your own. "It's a fact that I can tell even without knowing more about you than what you've just shown everyone here. I was after you in the queue, I heard what you ordered, and now that told the barista she got your order wrong, and even doing such a thing." You motioned to the employee who tried to wipe the counter and her uniform from the spilled drink.

"You're the more disrespectful one. And I beseech you to shut your mouth and think twice before trying to make someone's life miserable just because your is." You finished with fire in your eyes making the woman frown and gasp at your rant. "OMG! I can't stand someone like that." She said waving her arms around before turning away and leaving the place. You sighed and felt Hayato moving towards you and moving his arms around you trying to calm you down. You showed your claws and he had a wide grin on his face, proud of you for standing up for someone else.

Tags: @misticbullet

[eye-may]

If you have time, drop your Macavity and Misto lore?

oh I got time lmao.

egregiously overthought logorrhea of the felinological variety under the cut!!

I'm just gonna preface with, not sure if you mean separately or specifically in conjunction with one another? but for simplicity's sake I'm going to go with the latter lol. For Mistoffelees singularly I have conducted an incomprehensive lore dump Here. I haven't dedicated any posts specifically to Macavity, but him and his past are touched on a bit in that post I linked, and also a little Here.

When it comes to Macavity and Mistoffelees and their relationship/how they orbit around each other...that connection ends up having some pretty cataclysmic ramifications lmao. to fully understand why, I'd say you actually do have to read my long hc post about Mistoffelees and where his magic comes from. or don't, and just scratch your head at the weird terms and concepts I will periodically reference XD

Macavity, at the start of the events of the show, has little to no conceptualization about Mistoffelees's existence in my mind. Munkustrap and co. sort-of-kind-of purposefully kept their conjuring cat's abilities under the radar where it counted --- that being said, though, it's not like it was ever an earthshattering revelation for any parties involved. Mistoffelees, while he likes to show off in good company, had been relatively cagey about his abilities from the beginning anyway (and yeah...there's a reason for that lmao), and none of the Jellicle elders had a solid inkling about the implications of the existence of a Conjuring Cat. Magic, of course, is ubiquitious amongst cats; they're born of magic, have an extensive history with magic, and are inherently mystical beings. It expresses in some cats (i.e., Cassandra, Jemima, and most of all Coricopat and Tantomile) more obviously than in others. it's just that none of the Jellicles had ever known or heard of a cat that has a matrix of abilities as literal, tangible, and powerful as Mistoffelees's. But since the concept of magic itself is relatively prosaic, nobody was ever like Holy Shit, A Magic Cat! That's Not Supposed To Happen! We Must Look Into This Extensively! their instinct to veil Mistoffelees's abilities came more from Munkustrap's prerogative---that being: he set out to prevent Mistoffelees from ever being ostracized, adulated, taken advantage of, or otherwise treated differently because of his powers. Even the nomadic Old Deuteronomy was not aware of there being a Magical Cat at the Junkyard prior to the events of the show.

And that all worked out great! Up until Mistoffelees's heroic conjuration of the Jellicle Leader. This, of course, awakens Macavity to the possibility that someone else beside himself possesses profound magical powers. It's obvious that whomever "rescued" Deut was one of his loving followers, galivanting at the Jellicle Ball from where he had just wreaked havoc. After he heals from the fight at the Ball, he returns to the Junkyard with renewed purpose; this time, for once, it's not to kidnap Demeter, or Bombalurina, or to torment his estranged brothers. He announces that he's aware that the Jellicles are harboring an ostensibly magical cat and more or less demand that the cat in question reveal himself. not to be menaced (and wanting to prevent the situation from escalating), Mistoffelees unhesitatingly attempts to out himself---but Jellyorum, who was standing right behind him, claps a hand over his mouth and bodily yanks him back. Tugger, who is also nearby, steps directly in front of him for good measure.

At that juncture, the Junkyard just falls into a tormentingly tense impasse, with Macavity just prowling around, reveling in the palpable suspense and fear, while singling out cat after cat in attempt to intimidate them into revealing either themselves, or whoever they know the Magical Cat to be. Munkustrap had been, of course, gaslighting the fuck out of Macavity by insisting that there's no magical cat. magical cats like that don't exist. you're crazy, you hallucinated that Deut disappeared, stop doing drugs, etc etc.

so anyway this is a whole scene and idk if tumblr has the character capacity for me to describe it beat-by-beat in full, but it culminates in Mistoffelees ultimately using his magic against Macavity, because Macavity was threatening to kill Tumblebrutus, but then snake-eyed Munkustrap and shot fire at him, knowing that the magician would be forced to defend him. Mistoffelees refracted the blast and then disappeared amidst the dissolving inferno, managing to not fully reveal himself in doing so. nonetheless, Macavity's suspicions are confirmed. he's more than happy to drag shit out and toy with the Jellicles, and also he got injured by the unexpected retaliation, and also he knows that at the end of the day he's outnumbered...so he goes ahead and takes his leave for the time being.

sauurrr now the Jellicles know that for WHATEVER REASON, Macavity wants "the magical cat." for revenge maybe? makes perfect sense for Macavity! but if you did read the lore about the "Moon Stones" that I blabbed on about in This Post, you'd understand that Macavity isn't ONLY out for revenge. He believes that, since one of the Jellicles has magic, he must have acquired it the same way Macavity did (by wresting a Stone), or is otherwise one of the three legendary Keepers. There's one or two more attempts he makes to capture his quarry, including one where he strongarms Mungojerrie (who then strongarms Rumpleteazer) into completing a heist that is literally impossible without the intervention of magic. Falling into his trap, the two rascals jointly strongarm Mistoffelees into joining them, ultimately luring him to Macavity. This is when Macavity realizes that it's Mistoffelees who has magic --- needless to say, a crucial revelation. but, thankfully, the three manage to get away this time...only to be met with Munkustrap's seething wrath.

incidentally, this is a somewhat formative moment for Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer, neither of whom had a single skoosh of a suspicion that Macavity was just using them to get Mistoffelees. (crucially: they were not at the Junkyard during the Napoleon's last visit and were not brought up to speed on the situation). and neither of them TOLD mistoffelees that it was Macavity whom they were trying to placate. immaculate communication all the way around! in any case, Jerrie and Teazer are deeply guilty and apologetic towards a very used-feeling Mistoffelees, and both are now keen to the fact that they just can't collude with Macavity anymore. Granted, they were already attempting severances after the kidnapping of Deutoronomy, but, par for the course with Macavity, it's not easy to severe ties with him. From then on, the twins start spending more time in the junkyard, committing to the tribe with unprecedented allegiance, both for their own safety and the safety of the others.

anyway, back to the matters at hand. Macavity ultimately wants to reunite the three stones, so since he's convinced that Mistoffelees has one, he's deadeyed on capturing him. eventually, he succeeds (partly due to Mistoffelees's voluntary submission in the eleventh hour, jaded by the fact that he alone was bringing danger to those around him), and unfortunately for Mistoffelees, it takes Macavity a while to realize that he's barking up the wrong tree. it takes an intensive mind-meld of sorts (that involves spiritual intervention from the Psychic Twins...IT'S A WHOLE THING) for the Napoleon to realize that Mistoffelees hadn't been lying --- he was truly born with magic, and didn't need a Moon Stone to have powers. almost nothing ever rattles or surprises Macavity...but he's fairly shocked. he senses astronomical power in Mistoffelees, and it's raw, genuine, uncorrupted, organic...so unlike his own limited and corrupted bastardization of magic.

from then on out, as you can imagine, there's just a lot of back-and-forth between Mistoffelees and Macavity, infinitely complicated by the involvement of Macavity's brothers. one of whom is essentially Mistoffelees's parentified elder sibling and the other is his best, and his most protective, friend in the whole wide world. After Macavity realizes that Mistoffelees doesn't have a Stone, his motivations shift and he oscillates between wanting to get rid of Mistoffelees, believing he's the only one truly capable of stopping Macavity's ascension, and wanting to wrest Mistoffelees --- either as a means of stealing his oceanic power, or at the very least breaking him into submission the way the Joker did to Tim Drake in batman the animated series lol 😬

you can imagine that the subsequent developments lead to...cumulative psychic damage for Mistoffelees lmao. he develops the fear that he's capable of turning out like Macavity. he starts to get gaslit into believing the tenet held by other pious cats (outside the Junkyard that is...cats, like humans, have different religions with different sects etc., some of which construe the legends associated with magic to mean that it's inherently evil) about his destiny are correct. In my mind there's sort of a Frodo and Gollum thing going on here lmao. I mean in such a way that, Mistoffelees has a deep-seated wish that Macavity is capable of reformation. on the surface it seems to be that he holds this desire because he wishes to see his two closest friends at peace with their wayward brother...but he later comes to realize that it stems from a place of needing to see an example of magic usage that isn't for the sake of fear, destruction, power, etc. He's also rueful that things are becoming so complicated, when his relationship with magic used to be so simple; it used to make everyone so happy.

Macavity, being the clever hypnotist and exploiter of psychological shortcomings that he is, often attempts to capitalize on Mistoffelees's insecurities. Saying things like, your friends only keep you around because they're using you and your powers. They're all secretly afraid of you. They're nice to you because they know that you're capable of hurting them out of retaliation; you're used to everybody around you walking on eggshells because it's all you've ever known. you could never have the wherewithal to comprehend a genuine friendship to begin with. special magical cats such as themselves can never enjoy such frivolities; only they are truly capable of understanding each other. Macavity sometimes acts almost as if he harbors some kind of bastardized, bizarre affection for Mistoffelees...but he's sure enough to oscillate erratically back into the territory of Obsessive Disdain.

there is, of course, the infinitely fascinating discourse regarding the two magicians' magic and how they choose to use it and how their corporeal vessels resonate with it. Mistoffelees is, pragmatically, more powerful than Macavity --- but his power is only as good as his ability to understand it and economize it, and since he's only ever been self-taught, figuring out those logistics is difficult in both theory and in practice. he's more likely to overexert himself and succumb to exhaustion, and is also resistant to using magic in directly offensive/violent ways. his tactics are more evasive, more illusory, more beguiling, and more defensive. additionally, despite his various struggles with developing his powers, Mistoffelees lives in harmony with his magic at his core. he's uncorrupted and bright; he's well-meaning and big-hearted. his magic is the purest form and doesn't wage any kind of resistance against him. it revolves around creation and animation.

Macavity, on the other hand, essentially chooses his own subsurface torment at the hands of his filched wizardry. his powers were stolen to begin with; he never fit the physical or spiritual criteria for using it. his possession of the stone is essentially causing him to deteriorate without him fully realizing it, whilst he and the Moon Stone are essentially corrupting each other in a fitful clash of the Red Stone's essence and Macavity's nefarious intentions and raw determination. theoretically, Macavity will either die or go insane if he holds onto the stone ad infinitum---but the more imminent hazard is that he'll unquestionably do increasingly substantial damage with it while he can. (and that issue will escalate stratospherically if he, everlasting forbid, gets a hold of one or both of the other stones). his powers, on the opposite end, are centrally destructive and violent.

it is, put simply, "easier" to wield magic the way Macavity does. destruction and entropy are, at their core, more instant and comprehensive than the antithesis. Mistoffelees wins the long game, but he's practicing a much more demanding and complicated school of magic.

okay anyway I've been typing for the last hour or so and I feel like this is a decent place to leave off lol. I really hope this is at least a somewhat satisfactory lore dump lol? I can definitely go more into Macavity and his past and his crime syndicate and etc. as an individual if anybody wants me to (or I might just do it unprompted at some point lmao).

WHEW ty for the ask!! lmk if you want me to clarify or expand on anything!

[nshtn]

SITS UP

Wesker to start of course

Extreme logorrhea ahead. I doubt anyone will read this to the end. If you do, you'll get a gift.

How I feel about this character

Fundamentally broken genius of a teleological Darwinist. High-functioning psycho-sociopath. Evil mad scientist trope is my guilty favorite. The only thing they could've done any better was give this man reading glasses.

Some people call him a leather/latex daddy. He does dress like one. I don't think he acts like a fatherly figure, but, then, I've never really understood that connotation - I have no reference.

I want to jiggle his face and boop his nose and tuck him in and listen to him talk about genetics and virology for 17 hours straight without a break. I want to run my hand through his hair like I'm rolling to pet the dragon in D&D without getting incinerated. I want to give him his PG67.

I also want his back-to-back letterbox reviews of every virology movie like or similar to Contagion, including Contagion.

I find him "conventionally attractive". My favorite facemodel is RE5. His nose is so cute and his eyebrows are so thick and gosh, he's got such pretty long eyelashes. He's so cute when his hair peeks forward.

And he is so very, very tired.

All the people I ship romantically with this character

Chrisker, Weskennedy, Willsker, Weskrauser, Polystars

Some of these aren't published anywhere but my DMs. ↓

Mossy's Mcbridesker, Feng's Jordsker, a particular friend's TRICELL supercomputer OC x Wesker, Starlight's Lancesker, whatever the hell 'researcher' has with him apparently

My non-romantic OTP for this character

Rebecca and Wesker being friends in DBD is cute. I want them to get in a funfact battle toe-to-toe. They should watch shitty movies together because there's nothing better to do.

Heisenberg, Wesker and pre-tf Radames is the ultimate in-universe nightmare blunt rotation and I'd pay to see it.

My unpopular opinion about this character

Albert Wesker is a child trafficking victim...

...of a cryptofascist biotech doom-cult who would've probably been normal if Spencer hadn't targeted him. To erase his past is to forget his most important character trope: he is manufactured. Everything about his life has been intentionally sown into him to create a perfect weapon that relies on the orders of another to act without question.

Spencer forgot that human beings are unpredictable creatures. There is no way to strip a human of humanity with no trace left behind - humanity is curious of what lies beyond the walls. We are not stateful machines.

I haven't really seen anyone else headcanon him as someone with C-PTSD and I think part of this is media pattern avoidance of assigning these traits to the villains - it's "bad rep". The truth is that C-PTSD is a horrifying condition to experience and the way you come out of it can very much result in sociopathy - in fact, I'd wager it's a large contributor (I suffer from C-PTSD, so this isn't something I'm throwing around for edge).

I portray him as someone who desperately struggles to detach himself from the concept of humanity because the concept of humanity has made such a monster out of him that he doesn't believe it holds any value. There's thorns around his heart to protect it and they have bled him out.

Wesker also has to detach himself from others because he's been raised to follow the directive of people with more influence (in any fashion) than him and, thus, the only safe option is to stand alone. To give anyone that power over him will put the strings back in the marionette. I think he would rather die. I don't reflect this in most of my xreader writing for obvious reasons.

Wesker cannot be "pacified".

There is no shivering little boy waiting for you to save him locked behind his eyes after he kills Spencer. You will learn to love scar tissue and recognize aching need portrayed in shades of violence or you will love nothing at all.

He's not an empathetic man. In whatever you do you must remember that this character lacks the ability to relate to others as an immutable trait. It doesn't forbid you from writing Wesker being kind or doing 'kind' things, rather he does not do them out of the same kindness you connotate with human empathy.

In fact, I need to update my sheets to reflect this.

I'd eat my boot if he wasn't a social Darwinist.

I don't really focus on Epic Umbrella Moments very much for obvious reasons (aside from not enjoying writing them).

On the flipside, Wesker has every reason to establish the School again when he cements himself in TRICELL, especially considering his lofty goals of pushing humanity off the edge in favor of something new (to breed these extremist views), but he doesn't. That's very telling, I think, and it's in direct contrast to his own ideology, and that's very very telling.

At the end of the day, he's just a character.

I just like Wesker. I'll read and love all versions of him. No one version of Wesker is """bad""" - all portrayals are another portrayal to choose from, all characterizations explore something new.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon.

god i would pay for someone to write his response to the c virus. hey man, some guy took your virus and used it for his crazy tf mindbreak bodyhorror fetish-obsession with your most contentious agent, do you want to kill him? please please say yes

I would also pay for his response to T-Abyss. I mean, a bunch of 'civvies' got ahold of T. Is he disgusted? Is he curious? Does he want to hire them? Does he hate it? Did he use it in Uroboros? Does he think about it? Does it bother him???

Does the A Virus bother him???

I want pre-tf Radames and Wesker to interact. I want to see what they'd talk about. Radames was herself obsessed with Simmons - would Wesker immediately clock this behavior pattern?

Mother Miranda and Wesker interacting would be fascinating. Would it lead to an earlier, different Zenobia? Even Spencer and Miranda meeting and talking (again) would be very interesting.

Come to think of it, pretty much every other BBEG of Resident Evil involves a child - Ashford herself (and later Hidalgo), Eveline, Natalia Korda, even Sherry. Wesker has no equivalent of T-Veronica, E, T-Phobos, or G - he never involves children directly. Why? I wish his psyche was explored because the things he doesn't do even when they would benefit him are immensely interesting aspects of him.

Thanks for reading! Here's his most immutable, important, unforgettable, irrefutable, inarguable trait.

[tobeafangirl]

are you going to say it first, or am i?

Words: 5,650 Rating: M (mild language, slight talk about addiction) Type: Chapter (3/25) Previous Chapter A/N: Yay! Thanks to your votes, Zayn is now entering the story. I am also still looking for someone to help with proof reading if anyone is interested. Hope you enjoy!

I probably should have found it odd that he didn’t question me. That he just followed and took me straight to his truck. Now, when he said truck, I was thinking of one of those over-the-top huge trucks that screamed strong ego and self-esteem issues. However, I was met with something that looked like it came from the 50s with a fresh coat of paint on it. At least he was gentleman-like, he opened my door for me. Either that meant he was an alright guy or a serial killer. In today’s world, you never know. I buckled myself in and sat with my arms crossed as he hopped in the truck and started it up. I could feel my phone vibrate in my pocket. It was either Harry or Gwen and I would put bets on it being Gwen since I didn’t say a single word to her. In addition to me stealing the guy that she was so obviously flirting with; I am sure she is wanting some answers. I didn’t want to give answers right now because I didn't even know the answers myself.

“Do you want to at least know my name?” He finally broke the silence. Something about his voice caused me to shiver, or maybe that was the cool air blowing on me. I took the time to look over at him. He was focused on the road. He looked different without the confused look on his face. It was weird. He had this bone structure that you read about in science books but there was a softness to his face. It made him look friendly – inviting. “Sure.” I was hesitant in my reply, and I didn’t know why. This was no way to act toward a stranger now. The hesitance is supposed to come before getting into the car with them.

“Zayn.” It suits him – and I shivered again. I tried to ignore that as I nodded in response. “Great. I’m Y/N.” My introduction was lifeless, monotone, and unapologetically me. I didn’t want to sit in this truck and make small talk. In fact, I wanted to explode. The anger that I felt was not subsiding and I wanted to scream, but one thing I learned in the family was how to keep it all in. I bottle things up until it was too late, and then when I let it all out, I end up pushing people away.

“I’m guessing something happened back there for you to end up in this truck with me, huh?” I can’t criticize him for wanting to know the details. I had to look at things from his perspective too. Some random girls just pulled him away from a party. I was a stranger to him just as he was to me. It wasn’t fair to him.  “Something like that” I had adverted my gaze back to the passenger window, looking at the dark sky. There were little to no stars out tonight, it was just – dark. Something about that made me sad because it caused me to not have a familiar distraction that I enjoyed so much. It made it easier for images to replay in my head over and over. 

“Look – if you don’t want to talk about it.” He started, but he didn’t get to finish his entire sentence. At this point, the thoughts were turning into a headache, and I just had to let it out. I opened my mouth, and it was like I had a case of logorrhea. 

“I have waited such a long time for this moment. It was supposed to be my moment. The guy of my dreams. One of the few reasons I continue to stay here and push myself out of my comfort zone. A guy that I trust. Well, trusted, I guess? I am so confused; do I look like a joke to you?” I couldn’t stop myself. I believe part of me felt better if I vented to a stranger because then if I never wanted to see them again. I didn’t have to. I could go on with my life, and this would just be one incident that I would put in my past. 

“N-no?” He stuttered, for the first time that we have gotten into the truck he took his eyes off the road to look at me. He had sweet eyes. I could tell he was not expecting all of this – or maybe he was. Either way, I felt a ping of guilt hit me, but I still couldn’t stop myself.  “Well, I must be, especially after that. He just asked me out on a date. A date! Do you know how that feels? To be asked out and humiliated in the entirety of thirty minutes? Maybe I was dumb, things were too good to bet true.  I am an idiot.”

I was startled as the truck made its way to the side of the road. We were in the middle of nowhere, nothing but dessert surrounding us on both sides, and I felt panic start to sink in. “Why are you pulling over?” I asked quickly, my hand was already placed on the handle to get out just in case I needed to spring in action. I was an expert in horror movies, so why did I do this in the first place? I should have known better. Now, I am going to end up on How I Survived because there was no way I was going to let mister sweet eyes be the death of me.

“Because I did not sign up for this.” Not what I expected, but I slowly let loose of the handle. “But you asked?” I pressed. Zayn was now facing more towards me than the wheel, he was looking me over. This was different. I could read Harry’s mind like it was my own. I always knew what he was thinking or what he was going to say but this was totally new. I had no idea what was going on in Zayn’s mind. No clue what he thought of me. He nodded slowly, leaning back into his seat a little to get comfortable. “Who is this guy and what are you going on about?”

“The guy’s name is Harry. He is a guy who has been a strong part of my life for a while, but now I am starting to wonder why I have kept him so close. Was it because he was familiar? Did I really think there was a chance? And don’t get me started about Cassandra—” the disgust in my voice was loud. Although she was not my favorite. I also knew this was not her fault. How was she to know? Yes, does she scheme and does the craziest things to get Harry to acknowledge her, of course, but Harry had a choice at that moment too. He did what he did and there was no excuse for it. 

”You know Cassandra?” There was some shock in Zayn’s voice. Obviously, Zayn didn’t come to the party without knowing anyone, right? Although that could be a possibility, it was a very slim one. I wonder if that is why he came, Cassandra. It wouldn’t be a crazy idea that the party somehow got to her, and she invited some people, one of those being Zayn. Wait, then that would mean they were friends and here I was about to just completely talk trash about her. That couldn’t be though, because so far, Zayn seemed to be nice and that just didn’t sit right to think they’d be close in some way.

“You know Cassandra?” I asked back. He chuckled as he shook his head, leaving a smirk on his face. I didn’t want to say it out loud – not that I would anyway, but Zayn was a handsome man. I could see him being Gwen’s type. Any girls type for that matter. Something about him made me nervous but in a refreshing way. He was new and exciting, and I hadn’t had this long of a conversation with another guy besides Harry and well Harry’s brother. We had other guy friends in the group, but we would only speak when in groups and it was never detailed. 

“Who doesn’t? The chick is somewhat bad news. She once dated one of my friends. Talk about a wild summer. We were in high school then, but I always got an odd feeling about her. I am sure she has some underlying problems, but I never wanted to find out.” I completely understood where he was coming from. It was like he just confirmed all my suspicions in less than a minute. Cassandra carried around a case full of bad news, leaving her mark no matter where she went. “Yeah, well, I hate her,” I said quietly. I huffed. I officially did not want to talk about her anymore.

“This guy must be something if he’s got you feeling like this. Not that I am trying to hit on you while you’re going through it, and I know this is not what you want to hear right now. But you are a very attractive girl who can probably do better.” I froze. That comment just made me realize I had not been hit on by anyone besides Harry the entire time I had lived here. I could feel the heat flutter to my cheeks. I was blushing? Sort of. I was flattered. This didn’t happen often. 

“If it’s not what I wanted to hear, why would you say it?” My voice took on a defensive tone, but sort of in a playful way. I hated to say there was a possibility that he might be right. Had I been wasting all my time on Harry? Could I have been living a better life without him? Just an hour ago there was no life without him. “Because someone has got to tell you the truth.” His eyes hadn’t left me since we pulled over, and I could feel his glaze set fire to me. There was something sincere in his voice and I absolutely hated that. I frowned. Guilt fell over me. I wasn’t even sure why I felt that way, maybe it was because I felt like I had been lied to. Lied to by myself. 

“Thanks, but I don’t need a knight in shining armor right now. I need a ride home.” I was sticking to my guns as best as I knew how. I didn’t want to look his way, I had this gut feeling I would fall apart and he surely didn’t ask for that. I heard him laugh and felt his body shift as he focused his attention back on the road. The car started with a jolt and within moments we were back on that long stretch of a road. “Alright, alright. You’ll have to give me directions though or it might take all night.” I’m not sure why, but I smiled. I knew we had about ten or so minutes before we reached the lone light that was along this road, but I obliged, giving him the first direction.

“You’ll take a right at the light.”

**

The rest of the ride was silent unless I was giving instructions on where to turn. It was nice though; I was not complaining. It gave me time to relax, and my overthinking began to subside. I was able to breathe easy. Once we pulled into an empty parking spot at the apartment building, I looked at my phone to check the time. It wasn’t super late, but it wasn’t early either. I ignored the many missed messages and calls, although I did wonder when Gwen was going to come home. I finally looked back over at Zayn and our eyes met. He smiled. He had one of those lop-sided smiles that could be mistaken for a smirk, but again, it fit him like most of his mannerisms. 

“Do you want to come in?” I found those words coming out of my mouth before I could stop them. It sounded crazy but I wanted to spend more time with him. He was a great listener, and I was entitled to have more than two friends, right? If tonight showed me one thing, it was that I needed to get out more and start ‘living my life to the fullest’ as they say. Put myself out there more. Lord knows I couldn’t get any more hurt than I felt tonight. 

“I don’t really do one-night situations.” He spoke slowly as if he was choosing his words carefully when he spoke. He didn’t want to hurt my feelings. I saw that as a good thing, even if what he had said completely threw me off. “Not like –” I sighed, sinking in the passenger seat a little. I couldn’t hide the slight annoyance in my voice. Why did guys tend to think that all things were sexual? “Look I just thought maybe I could invite you in to apologize. I snapped earlier, and never gave a proper explanation. Used up your gas. I owe you a drink at least.” I explained.  

He took a moment as the truck was idling. I was tempted to just recant my offer and walk right into my apartment, but nonetheless, he responded by turning off the ignition. “I don’t drink, but I could use the company.” Never once did I think to ask him why he drove me home. There could have been an underlying reason. He might have needed an escape as well, I felt selfish for making most things about me, but I was planning on making that up to him.

Part of me felt happy he agreed to come inside. I didn’t say anything, just jumped out of the truck and waited for him to join me before walking to my apartment door. Once inside I stood in the middle of the room as Zayn closed the door behind us. I did a twirl. “Tada!” I had already forgotten the alcohol that was coursing through my system, but I was quickly reminded as I nearly lost my footing. I was clumsy, so this was normal, but it was still embarrassing. He did that chuckle thing again. “It’s not much, but it’s home.” I shrugged. “No, it’s great. A lot better than my current living situation so – it’s comfy.” Comfy. I liked that. In fact, I think I prided on that. To know that others found my living space comfortable. For someone who has been uncomfortable their whole life, it was good to know that I could provide something I hadn’t experienced before.

It was time for the explanation I promised. I stayed standing in the middle of the room as I watched him lean back against my front door. Probably to run if things got too weird – I understood that. “So, to start things off. I’m Y/N. You already knew that but, I feel like this is a more appropriate introduction than before. This is my place; I have a roommate – Gwen – the nice, sweet blonde I pulled you away from. She’s great, just an FYI if you were interested. And tonight, you have caught me, probably at the lowest I feel like I have been in a while.” This is when my nerves started to kick in. I started to fidget with my fingers as I continued to speak.

“I don’t put myself out there much. I have a lot of trust issues. It comes from my family. My dad was never supportive of anything I ever did. I think that is why I am so scared of failure. I always did whatever I could to show him that anything I sought to do, I could do it and finish it, no problem. My mom however always had her problems. I did whatever I could to try and be present for her, but she never cared unless I was achieving something.” Honestly, I tried my best not to talk about my mom. My parents have always been a disappointment, but with my dad, it was expected. He was blunt. My mom went through cycles and gave me hope from time to time. No matter, it always hurts the same. 

At this point I had started to slightly pace as I spoke, I was looking down now while speaking so I didn’t notice that Zayn had made his way further into the apartment. At least I hadn’t scared him away just yet. “When I was top three in track, my mom came to almost every meeting. She would be cheering from the crowds, egging on that I was her daughter but when we got back in the car, she went numb. It was like she was dead to the world, a zombie. She was only a mother when she benefitted from it, but God forbid I have a bad day or need advice. It always felt like I didn’t matter to my family.” And those feelings were only validated when I left home

.

I wasn’t necessarily sure why I was telling my whole story to Zayn. Only two other people know it and it’s easy to guess who that is. I feel so insecure when I talk about my life. I know that it doesn’t define me and that it’s not the worst. But it’s something I do wish I could forget and move past. No amount of therapy or medication could work for me. I’ve tried. “I have always tried so hard for other people, I thought moving here would provide me with a new start so that I would be able to try hard for myself but then I met Harry. And don’t get me wrong, the time we have spent together has been great. He understands me, he doesn’t judge me. Sometimes though I feel like I put myself on the back burner when we met. I wanted so desperately to have something with him. We even made a game out of it, how crazy is that?”

Somehow, I ended up on the floor right in front of the couch and not on it. Something that happened way too often but what got me was how fast I was joined by Zayn. He did not hesitate to come and sit on the floor right next to me. He had been silent this whole time. I am not sure if he was blocking me out or really listening but somehow this was helping me. Slowly I felt like there was an unknown weight that was being taken off my shoulders. “Tonight, for the first time, we were going to take a chance. I know all of this sounds crazy.” My knees were tucked into my chest, and I used my knees as a rough pillow as I turned my head to look at him. Again, our eyes met.

“It does. But we all have baggage, right? We just have to make sure we choose someone who can handle it properly. Maybe this isn’t the guy for that. Maybe both of your pasts seem equal in part but overbearing when trying to place it all together.” I hated that. It made sense. I felt my face fall without warning, sadness creeping back over me. Not for a moment did I ever think of things in that way. I just figured that was why we easily got along. We had things in common. We had struggles in common. Maybe that was why we weren’t destined to be. 

Zayn immediately took notice of my change of expression and changed the subject instantly. “I feel like you need to have fun. Now, I know I don’t drink, but why don’t I pour you a glass of wine so you can relax.” I reluctantly nodded and pointed to the kitchen. He sprung into action and mostly figured everything out on his own. I only had to point out where the glasses were, but the wine was already sitting out. Gwen refused to move it from a certain spot on the counter. She claimed she would never be able to find it if she did. She at least had a glass of wine every day, she said it kept her sharp. I only drank it if I was already drinking, hence to me now holding a glass of cabernet.

“Why don’t you drink?” I asked as I took a sip, watching as he took his seat next to me again. My face scrunched at the taste of the wine. It was not my favorite, but we didn’t keep any other type of alcohol in the house. Never made sense why we would need to. We both didn’t drink heavily like that unless we were out at parties. “It’s a long story.” There was something in his voice this time, the way he looked at the glass of wine. He was hesitant, possibly nervous? He scratched at the scruff on his face, and I quickly realized that was a nervous habit of his. I smiled a little. I was figuring him out. “Oh, come on, I pretty much just told you my entire life story.” 

I don’t want to say I had some type of charm, but I was able to get information out of people sometimes. Harry always told me it was my kind eyes and how I gave off a secure feeling. I wondered if Zayn thought the same thing. He gave a defeated sigh, another smirk-like smile, and a nod of his head. “I first picked up a bottle when I was nine. Grown-up juice is what my parents called it and I wanted to grow up fast. I didn’t have a bad childhood; my family is decent. Every family has something right? Well, I was fortunate enough to be the black sheep. My addiction kicked into full gear when I was twelve. Don’t ask me how I was drunk before recess, but I had my ways to make sure I always had that special juice on me.”

I tried to wrap my brain around someone beginning to drink at that age and what they would have to be going through personally for them. “I stopped drinking right after high school when too many blurry nights led to the most idiotic mistakes that I think some people could ever make. It was hard for me. I didn’t know what to do with myself for a long time. Now, I fix old vehicles, hence the old, rusted truck we rode in. It’s a distraction for me, one that finally works. But don’t worry, I have self-control so – you drinking in front of me doesn’t phase me.”

“I was just about to ask you that,” I said while eyeing the glass of wine in front of me. I admired that. Him having control. I know it takes a lot to get to that certain point and I was happy he shared that with me. “Most people do.” He replied as he reached for the wine glass and handed it over to me. He was not urging me to drink, just letting me know it was okay if I wanted to continue. I could tell that by his eyes. They were this dark brown and yet they were soft as well. I could probably stare at them, but I am sure that would creep him out. I did get lost in them though and found myself talking again without thinking.

“It’s crazy, what we do right? Like how we cope and the age we start doing, or if it is an appropriate way or not. It’s what shapes us into the adults we become and rather that’s good or bad I have yet to decide.” I took a sip of wine. Effortless was the perfect word for conversation with Zayn. It could have been the alcohol, but I feared it could be more than that. I looked back over at him as I sat my drink down and noticed his expression. He looked woeful and I quickly felt like I said something wrong. “Sorry,” I whispered. Even if we were sharing our troubles with each other, I didn’t want to overstep a boundary by making him uncomfortable. 

“No, it’s okay.” He reassured me with his smile back on his face. I felt like I was trying to read his mind. To focus on what he was thinking. At this time, I also realized how close we were. I don’t remember how this happened, but I guess during our conversation we just slowly started to gravitate toward each other. He had his arm draped around the couch and his legs were touching me slightly. I suddenly felt like I was in a cloud of Zayn.

So, I changed the subject instantly. “Also, what do you mean by rusted, that truck looks brand new.” I was flabbergasted as I pointed at the front door as if it was the truck itself and he laughed. Not a chuckle this time, a laugh. “It still needs work.” He commented. Typically, especially when someone is so into their work. He didn’t see how good it looked. I did. 

“You’re starting to sound like a perfectionist.” I teased him. It was my turn to laugh now. He looked down in a shy manner and that was a proud moment for me. I just made this guy blush. It might not have been a bright color on his face, but the way he looked away from me for a minute. I knew what that meant. 

“Listen – I – thank you.” It was my turn to sound sincere for the night. I was grateful for the interaction I was having. The events leading up to it didn’t matter at this point. I felt a new sense of urgency. I felt like I was presenting a better version of myself to Zayn. A version I didn’t know existed, but I wanted to learn more about. I’m not the type to pray, but I hoped this guy wouldn’t disappear after one night. 

“I don’t know what the hell I was thinking when I got into that truck with you but, no regrets. You might have some, sure, but I needed this tonight.” I admitted my thoughts to him. Well – half of them. I didn’t mention that I enjoyed his presence, and I was terrified that this would be our first and last night together.  “In a weird way, so did I.” I hoped that was confirmation that this would not be the first time we had late conversations, but the first of many. 

“Okay, enough somber. You said fun, right? Tell me something interesting about you. Or weird. Fun. Tell me something fun.” I was rambling and laughing at the same time, turning my body to face him. It was time to stop talking about all these things we couldn’t change and talk about the memories that left something with us that we cherished.  “I see the alcohol is working.” He nodded towards my barely touched drink. He had jokes; I’ll give him that. He turned to face me as I was facing him, matching my body language as he did so.

He looked up at the ceiling as if there was some imaginary dream cloud there that would give him an answer to my question. “I used to want to be a tree.” He said proudly. I tilted my head at his words. “You said what now?” I blinked a couple of times trying to process what he said to me. I even tried to hold back a laugh, but it escaped in a huff.

“Yeah, I was determined. I think it had to do with the growing-up thing. I even tried to plant myself. My mom thought it was a kiddish phase, but it lasted nearly two years. My dad wanted to take me to a therapist, but my mom didn’t believe in that stuff. It turned out that when I was nine, I played a tree in our school play. I absolutely hated it. Never wanted to be a tree again. I had to dance; I don’t do that. Figured if that was what a tree does, I would rather stay nine and never grow.” No one could wipe the smile off my face at this moment. “Wow.” That was really all I could muster at that moment. I tried to picture it, but picturing someone you barely knew as a child was weird. 

“I know, I also learned green was not my color too.” We both laughed at that, but I gave him a very unsure look. “Nah, you in green? Five stars.” Now that was something I could picture. A nice olive green would complement his tan skin. I am sure he would look great in green. Honestly, I am sure he would look great in any color. “You’ve never seen it.” Now he was the one with the puzzled look. “Don’t have to,” I responded fast. Things quieted after my comment. He was giving me a look again, the one that made me shiver. So, maybe I was flirting a little. 

“Alright, your turn.” He spoke slowly again, and I had to take a moment to lean back out of the trance I had found myself in. “I don’t know, I don’t have much. I’m kind of boring in a sense. I have a bottle cap collection? I spend most of my time watching horror movies. I could quote Scream in my sleep, could reenact it scene by scene. But other than that, I don’t have fun interesting stories about myself. None that come to mind.” I was giving him the most basic facts about me. These are things that someone could pick up within a week of knowing me. I didn’t hide these things away. Nonetheless, these were still things he didn’t know, but I felt like I was doing a disservice to him not having a memory come straight to mind.

“There has to be one.” He said with a roll of his eyes. I sighed, poking at my wine glass as I let my mind wander. Homelife made it where all my memories had something attached to them. They would start off great, but they would never end happily. Something always had to ruin it in some way. I did think of one eventually. It didn’t match his great story, but it was a fond memory of mine that I kept with me for rainy days. 

“Okay, um, I’m fascinated by scenery. I know not exciting, but I remember the first time I was captivated by it. I had to be like seven and my dad had to take me with him to work one day. He did construction, it was not a safe environment for a kid but that was just normal sometimes. Especially for us. Anyways, I wandered off, which I shouldn’t have but there was this lake close by. It was breathtaking. I remember how green the grass was, and how each tree surrounded it perfectly. I remember seeing my reflection in the water so clear and drifting off into a beautiful daydream. Did I fall into the lake? Yes. Was I not allowed to go to work with dad again? You bet. But it was all worth it because now I have this crazy appreciation for it.”

It was true. The way I enjoyed nature and the outdoors was on another level. I took it in differently than most, analyzing things in ways a lot of people wouldn’t think of. I believe everything in nature has beauty and a purpose. A lot of people overlook that. It’s sad. I must have been staring off into the distance because I did not realize how silent it was in the room. I was too busy reminiscing.

“You’re beautiful.” That deep voice broke the silence and my eyes shot back to him. There was that look again but this time it was intense. It was almost like he was looking into my soul. It made my breathing pattern change. I was nervous. “You mean that’s beautiful.” I tried to correct him. I wasn’t sure if I wanted him to agree or not. “I said what I meant.” Finally, I could tell he was getting closer. Leaning in. That began an internal battle within me. First, Gwen popped into my head and how she seemed to be hitting it off with him a few hours ago. Second, Harry took over and I felt horrible like I was betraying him. Even after what he did. Then, my own desire crept in and I wanted him to kiss me.

Time seemed to pass by in slow motion. Perhaps he was trying to make sure I was okay with what was happening before it happened. He was inches away; I could feel his breath on my lips. I wanted this; I knew I did. But I spoke instead. “I should – um, probably get some sleep? Yeah. Uh. Sleep.” I began to scoot away so that I could stand up. I crossed my arms. I was mentally beating myself up. “You’re free to stay the night if you want. The couch is comfortable.” I had ruined everything. I knew he was going to leave. I felt so embarrassed. 

Zayn stood up. His look never subsided. It stayed intense and locked on me. I worried that he was going to grab me and kiss me. Or maybe that was what I wanted to happen, and I was wishing it on me. Instead, he took a seat on the couch and proceeded to lay back. “Goodnight Y/N.” When I looked down at him, he smiled. I hastily made my way to my bedroom. Stopping at my door to speak before walking inside safely. 

“Goodnight Zayn.”

[tanadrin]

12:02 behold the world world the most heavily policed and militarized borders in the world and inside of them 12:08 only 14 of the population but 73 of the wealth this isn't a perfect map it 12:14 doesn't show for instance the varied relationships between the countries outside those Borders or how they have different relationships to the countries 12:19 within them it also paints this as pretty black and white countries are either in or out and that's unhelpful 12:25 because of the ways that the boundaries and flows of imperialism can shift and change and also because it can't tell us

okay so you admit this map isn't actually that analytically useful and you gloss over why some countries are included in it and some aren't. you just lump all this together as the "imperial core" (nevermind i think that is a lousy account of why those countries behave the way they do, and better ones exist)

as David Graber put it in direct action and ethnography a 12:48 lot of us were already arguing that the whole point of free trade was in fact to confine most of the world's population 12:55 in impoverished Global ghettos with heavily militarized borders 13:01 in which existing social protections could be removed and the resulting Terror and Desperation fully exploited

ascribing this degree of agency to an ad-hoc system of incentives is really dumb; it obscures far more than it illuminates, IMO, and you will badly misunderstand why decisions are made in the way that they are if you cannot understand what shapes those inventives

there's point in here also about industrialized countries getting rich through colonialism that i think is correct but is buried under a pile of annoying jargon and phrases like "chattel slavery" that are employed, not to disambiguate in the discussion of different kinds of forced labor, but just as, like, weirdly contentless identifiers. i hate that rhetorical tic so much. you can just say "slavery"! everyone watching this agrees slavery is bad!

and all this is followed by an explication of the place of oil in the world economy focused entirely on america, the only country with agency; the author rightly points out that electing the most green president in the world tomorrow wouldn't change much (maybe anything), and attributes this to the clunkiness of imperial power structures that are that way for purely abstract reasons instead of, you know, the fact that a US president isn't the dictator of Earth and shouldn't be, and that the metaphor of a unitary "empire" is a really useless one when trying to describe how individual political platforms of US presidents do or don't translate into, like, green energy policy in Germany!

the diversion into kafka is entertaining, but not really relevant--the structure of international politics is very different on a day-to-day level than that of the Austro-Hungarian Empire.

like come on. global warming sucks. capitalism sucks! but i don't think you can usefully understand--nevermind tackle--the problems the world faces if you box up every constituent element of your worldview into these little jargon-kissed pieces that admit no closer inspection.

what is it about communists that makes them just uniquely incapable of describing the actual world they live in