#op thank you for posting this for anyone else who's ever been fooled. it turns out terrible people make good liars.

[bluinary]

Reblogging this before everyone hops on the "you should've known better" train

I'm convinced I have the worst vibes detector of all time. I used to be a fan of Creepshow Art, iilluminaughtii, and James Somerton- all high-profile creators who got their careers tanked because they're bad people. Given the absolutely huge number of creators I subscribe to it's not surprising that this has happened multiple times, but still.

Then again, when I expressed this sentiment in the past and kicked myself for not being more aware of the red flags, someone told me that means I just want to see the good in people and am more willing to forgive faults than others are. I think that's spot-on tbh; I'm a very naive and forgiving person, which has often been taken advantage of. But it's just my nature, I can't help it.

This will inevitably happen to me again, but I'd rather not beat myself up over not constantly being attuned to every red flag people give off.

[aricazorel]

"You came back." "I promised, didn't I?" Prompt

Kaidan Alenko x Kori Reese; ME3, post- Citadel II (1465 words)

When the away party departed the shuttle after decommissioning yet another Cerberus base, Major Kaidan Alenko did not count on a personal visit by the Normandy’s XO. Yet there she stood in the docking bay, attempting to disguise her fidgeting with unnecessary fiddling with her Omni-tool. Lieutenant Commander Kora Reese might be able to fool some with her antics but not him. Kori was nervous and worried about something, and he was reasonably sure it had something to do with him.

With a nod to Shepard, the Major made his way over to Reese who stood next to one of the computer stations near the weapons modding table. She glanced up into his whiskey brown eyes and then quickly back at her omni-tool. Maybe nervous wasn't the correct word at all. Worried was but there was something else. Reese wasn't one to avoid eye contact especially with him unless…

Unless she was scared.

That thought set alarm bells off in the Specter’s mind as he came to a stop in front of her. What could have happened while he was on the away mission to cause her to be scared? And what did it have to do with him?

“Hey,” he said quietly, drawing her attention back to him.

“Hey,” she echoed as grey eyes met his again, her omni-tool still open, still running numbers on a simulation for a project she was no doubt working on. She always had multiple projects and sims running, hoping one of her ideas would prove viable enough with EDI’s help to use against the reapers or Cerberus.

Kaidan tilted his head slightly, all too familiar with her tendency to use it as a distraction as well. “What brings the Normandy XO down here? I thought Shepard told you to make sure not to scratch the paint.”

The Lt. Commander made a face at him. “I oversaw the retrofits with Traynor. The only paint that ever got scratched was that ugly-ass Cerberus orange.”

The Major smirked as he said, “Okay. Okay. Fine. But really, why are you down here?”

“Can’t I come down and see how the mission went?”

“Kori, you were listening in on our comms the whole mission. You know exactly how it went and you know that we took out another Cerberus base,” Kaidan said reaching over and switching off her ‘tool.

She opened her mouth to protest but stopped when the rest of the ground team passed them, heading towards the elevator. Shepard called out of his shoulder, “Not a bad ending for your first mission back on the Normandy without your girlfriend along to babysit you, Alenko.”

Kaidan made a face as he waved the first human Specter off. “Laugh it up, Shepard! I'm sure I can ask Liara for some embarrassing stories of her saving your ass.”

“Just because my girlfriend is a Shadow Broker doesn't mean she knows everything I've done or that she’s assed my ass!”

“Are you sure? I seem to remember something about coming back from the dead…”

Shepard scowled as the door shut. The Major just grinned. “You don’t actually babysit me—”

Alenko trailed off when he glanced down and saw the expression on Reese’s face. The same concern laced with what she could only label as fear reflected in her grey eyes. Something definitely wasn't right. Hearing Vega and Cortez banter back and forth as they checked over the shuttle for damage, Kaidan gently ushered Reese to the elevator. “We need to talk, don't we?”

“I don't—"

“Yeah,” he said as he summoned the lift. “We need to talk.”

Reese fidgeted but said nothing in reply. As the elevator doors opened, Kaidan glanced over at the Lieutenant Commander who continued to stare straight ahead. After boarding the lift, the Major said as the doors closed, “EDI, can you give us a few moments alone?”

“Of course, Major Alenko,” the sentient AI replied as she paused the elevator. “I will inform you when the elevator is needed.”

“Thanks, EDI,” he said as he crossed his arms turning to face Reese. “I feel like we've been here before.”

Grey eyes finally met his as she said quietly, “Hopefully less yelling this time.”

Kaidan's eyes went wide at the remark. Two days after he rejoined the SR2 he confronted her about the fact she was ignoring him. Tempers had flared as they discovered they still had unresolved issues even after rekindling the relationship on Earth. “I.. only meant that we talked in the lift. Not the other part.”

“We didn't talk in the elevator. You kissed me and pressed me up against the wall. We actually talked in the engineering sub-deck.”

Kaidan sighed as she once again corrected him. “Do we really have to go down there or—"

“You came back.”

Her words were spoken in a whisper, her eyes flickering between his gaze and his armor’s chest plate. Dawning struck the second human Specter like lightening. She was afraid he wouldn’t return.

He used a gloved hand to tilt her head back up to his level. “Of course, I did. I promised, didn’t I?”

“I just…” Reese began, her expression showing embarrassment at her admission. “It’s stupid but I just had to see you get off that shuttle. I—”

“Oh, hey! It’s okay, sweetheart,” Kaidan said as he drew her into a tender embrace. His Spec Ops armor really wasn’t conducive to it but he managed any way. “I’m here. I’m back with you where I belong.”

A he cradled her head to his chest the best his armor would allow, he realized she had folded her arms in against his chest. He was effectively cocooning her in his embrace. Reese had never been one to show vulnerability in public and it had taken a long time for her to do it with him on the SR1. Now as they struggled to begin again, he was continually surprised when she did so with him. It was especially unexpected considering the issues the incident on Mars had caused between them. The initial confrontation in the very same elevator after he’d joined the crew was a direct result of that.

On Earth before the Reapers invaded, they had begun repairing their relationship. A foundation of friendship had been remade. Slowly, gradually they had worked towards being more. Admittedly even before the arrival of the Reapers, they still had a long way to go.

But maybe there was more to what Kori worried about though. He knew a part of her still harbored a doubt that he might leave again without a proper explanation. And he owned that. He took every opportunity to prove to her through word and deed that he would not repeat past mistakes.

But Mars? That had been something else entirely. It wasn’t like before during the aftermath of the SR1’s destruction, one of them leaving the other because they chose to. Mars involved the possibility of losing each other because of their duty or succumbing to injuries sustained while in the line of duty.

The Major’s mind began putting together the pieces of the puzzle as he continued to hold the woman he loved to his chest.

His headaches. Her reaction in the hospital. Her accusation that he hadn’t been truthful about the severity of his migraines after his injuries on Mars…

The weekly inquiries into his medical records. Dr. Chakwas and Dr. Michel he expected. But a third party pinged his records on a regular basis as well. One routed through Alliance medical but without a specific name. It had to be Kori. She was that worried about him because of Mars but did not want to tell him. Most likely so he wouldn’t worry.

Kaidan closed his eyes as he continued to hold her close. He wouldn’t tell her he’d figured out her secret. Instead, he would continue to assure her he would always come back. That there was a future for them. That no matter the mission, the injury, or the pain he endured, he would always come back to her.

“Kori, I know things have never been exactly easy for us but I…” he paused as he moved his head to kiss her forehead. “I will always come back to you. Always.”

“You better, Alenko,” she murmured into his armor. “Or I’ll—”

“Kick my ass. I know,” he said with a grin as he hit the button to allow the elevator to resume its journey.

“Damn straight, tech boy,” was her murmured reply as he continued to hold her, not caring if the doors opened to reveal their current state to anyone. He’d spent far too long without her in his life, and he was not going repeat that mistake again.

He’d always come back to her. Always.

[go-diane-winchester]

Why destiel shippers should not speak about destiel endgame?

@the-winchesters-ruined-my-life asked the following question.

Thank you for the ask.  A short while back, my prim and proper side, would have responded diplomatically that its a merely ship, an artistic platform, and therefore does not warrant any hate from most level headed people.  However, I have to realize that even art activates the tolerance threshold.  I used to read destiel slash out of curiosity.  There are many more like me who dipped their toes in the destiel cesspool, only to recoil in disgust when they realized that it was probably going to give them gangrene.  Destiel was a sweet little ship, once upon a time, until things dramatically changed for the worst.  Most people who ship destiel are extreme by design because that is how the meta writers designed their thinking.  Non heller fans contradict each other.  I don't see that with hellers.  Some upper echelon hellers says something and these fans just accept it without question.  Take for example, the following post, recently penned by @anti-anti-destiel, lamenting the impending end of SPN.

The first flaw, is the OP's name.  They are glitching the tags with a name like this.  Everything and everyone has an anti tag.  What makes destiel so special that it must never have an anti tag?  That is manipulative and delusional because nothing will disappear just because you wished it away.  People that are going to despise destiel are growing, whether OP sticks her head in the stand or not.   

Anyway, here is the post, which I edited where necessary and italicized.  My responses are in bold. 

....Season 15 will be the last, with another 20 episodes.

There has been talk about queerbaiting in the past, and whether or not SPN will go down in history as a show with a slow-burn queer romance, or whether it will be forever known as the most queerbaiting show in existence.

This is why non-destiel fans get infuriated.  If there are any ''good'' destiel fans out there, why don't they tell this entitled princess to stop ruining the reputation of a show that has genuinely made people happy?  SPNFamily is very ironic when you want to tear apart a show that gave made you smile for 14 seasons.  This alone makes me wonder if there are any ''good'' destiel shippers out there.  The other hot topic is that of queer baiting.  Notice how queer baiting is NOT up for debate.  I have seen the master list of ''proof'' that SPN is queer baiting.  The parallels, metaphors and prop analysis are extremely insulting to adult human intellect.  Performing Dean is perhaps the most biphobic concept I have ever come across.  There is a reason these meta writers don't want their head canon's discussed because they know that people with logic with wipe the floor with them.  I can almost picture Jensen bursting into laughter if he ever read that master list.  It is that nonsensical.  The meta writers claim they are being queer baited, and everyone believes it.  Nobody questions the writers.  Why? 

All the cards will be on the table in the writers’ room.

Dabb is destiel friendly.

Bobo is destiel friendly.

Davy is destiel friendly.

Steve is destiel friendly.

Meredith is destiel friendly. 

Buckner and Ross-leming are ???

Singer is ???

When a meta writer writes something like this, how come low level destielers don't ever question her?  Why not ask her:  if Dabb and gang are destiel friendly, then why is it that Cas didn't even get invited to 300th episode family dinner party?  They practically forgot about him.  BuckLeming are NOT destiel friendly, because Leming [along with Misha] claimed that an episode with a turning point was coming up.  Turns out there was no turning point.  Leming and Misha were just making a mockery out of the destiel fans.  Why is it that Leming was called out for that lie and NOT Misha? 

And why is it that the most important people in this equation are always left out?  Both Jensen and Jared have said time and again, that destiel is not part of SPN canon.  How come they get left out?  Do you think their opinion doesn't matter?  And if it doesn't, then why is that?  I would really like to know. 

Other numerous cast and crew are destiel friendly. And before someone starts, regardless of previous statements, Jensen is more friendly to the idea than you may think.

Why don't any of the destielers ask this meta writer HOW she knows that Jensen is friendly to destiel?  One fool told me that Jensen told her during a photo op that he was OK with destiel.  But yet he says on stage that destiel doesn't exist.  Now, why would he do that?  What makes these idiots think that Jensen is two-faced or spineless.  This meta writer said it, and everyone believed it.  Not a single person decided to cross-examine her regarding her claims.  Jensen doesn't like destiel.  He destroyed the only panel he shares with Misha.  I think getting death threats from hellers did it.  I don't blame him. 

Our main barrier is convincing Pedowitz and the Network Powers that be that it should happen.  Fandom has campaigned, tulpa’d, prayed, begged, etc. We will know by May, 2020, what the decision will be.

So she wants to rally a bunch of delinquents to annoy and aggravate TPTB.  And what fandom is she talking about.  There are many fans who HATE destiel, because of Jensen's death threats, as well as arson, kidnapping and vandalism threats.  Ordinary fans of SPN are fed up of destiel meta writers speaking up for every one of us.  The destiel fans are only a subsection of the overall fan base.  We would prefer if they didn't speak for us all.  Pedowitz has already acknowledged only J2 as the leads and TPTB has told them that the show will go for as long as they want.  So TPTB are acknowledging the leads opinions.  Neither of the actors are going to say yes to destiel. 

We have seen the hints in Dabb’s era, where it could go. He is ON BOARD, people. Whether you want to believe it or not. It’s so close to being fully textual canon. 

What did she see in the Dabb era?  Cas admiring Dean's looks?  No, he admired Sam's looks.  Dean telling Cas he loved him?  No, he said that to Sam.  Dabb is giving every other pairing its day in the sun, but not destiel.  Why is that?  I think it has something to do with the reputation destroying queer baiting accusation.  This person is fooling you in order to stay relevant.  I can tell you now, there are personal stakes involved in shipping.  In order to stay popular and relevant, meta writers will spin mile long yarns.  Meta writers are like a step up from a slash fic writer.  In a weird way, they are revered without any merit or qualification.  That is how gullible the destiel fan base is.  They never probe a claim.  And they never just enjoy their ship.  Everything has to be about canon destiel, ship wars [their latest victim is sastiel] and they never acknowledge criminal threats.  Being loyal to them means that you are popular with the bad crowd.  Let that sink in. 

So while some may be preparing for the eventual let-down, it is completely acceptable to keep the faith. If it doesn’t happen, it won’t be the fault of writers, cast, or crew.

Oh, no it will be the fault of the meta writers, like this joker, and Misha Collins.  Misha has actively queer baited his fans for ten years.  Its funny how Jensen is the bad guy for saying that destiel doesn't exist, but Misha is such a kidder if he says anything destiel and even cockles friendly.  Misha Collins is the only person on the cast, crew and writers who actively and vocally pushed destiel consistently for ten years.  So much so that he ignored sastiel.  He changed that at Nashcon for reasons unknown.  If you want to lash out at anyone for destiel not being canon, please go ahead and lash out at Misha.  The only one who gave you any hope was Misha. 

In conclusion:  I have only met one destiel shipper [receipt on my blog], who acknowledged that destiel shippers were becoming ghastly and that Misha was egging on the troublemakers.  She admitted that she didn't approve of his behavior.  Other than her, I have not come across another.  Other than this one person, nobody else deserves my empathy.  When SPN ends without destiel being canon, prepare for the hellers being mocked by all and sundry, due to all the many enemies they earned for the threats, attacks on J2 and the vandalism.  No one will feel sorry for them, because they ruined this fandom.  Remember, Destiel is not a religion.  Loving and believing it is not a prerequisite for being an SPN fan. 

Excuse the typos. 

[elfpen]

Imperfect Affection

Don't worry, the next chapter of Reprise is in the words, but I needed a brain break from Star Wars, so here, have a mushy snippet from my newest obsession:

Sleep became a mystery to anyone who thought about it for any amount of time. Alphonse Elric had had five years to think about it, but would not let the mystery keep him from diving in head-first.

He'd been in the hospital for just half a day, and he'd slept most of it away. It'd been bizarre - he'd forgotten what it was like to miss whole chunks of life because of sleep. The nurses told him his body was too exhausted to do much else, which made sense. They'd made him as comfortable as he could be to just lie down and rest a while: they'd helped him drink a few sips of water, cut his fingernails and trimmed and washed his hair.

They'd encouraged him to take a bath, too, but hadn't forced him to. Of all the senses, touch was the most overwhelming, and even the fact that he had skin would take some time to accept. Still, Alphonse had taken them up on their offer and fallen asleep in a soapy tub of warm water, only to wake up later fully dressed in bed with an IV in his arm.

"They had to have dried me off, dressed me," Alphonse had agonized to Ed later, red-faced and mortified. "They saw me naked."

"Aw come on," Ed had elbowed him - gently, of course. "Some guys would kill for an opportunity like that. They were pretty cute, weren't they?"

"Brother!" His whole body turned red.

Edward had cackled, and then started coughing up blood again, because he was an idiot.

They'd wheeled Edward away for surgery in the afternoon to remove the bolts in his right shoulder, remove bits of rebar from his left arm, and see what they could do for his broken ribs. He'd be spending the night in a post-op suite, which left Al alone in his darkened hospital room to drift off into a dreamless sleep.

...and wake up again to a pitch-black room and the ghost of another presence in the room with him. It should have panicked him, but it didn't. A hand brushed softly against his temple through the short spikes of his hair.

His eyelids felt like lead weights, and his eyes refused to focus, but he could hear the rustling of clothes and see twin glimmers of glass, a smudge of blond hair.

"Dad?" he said, quiet and groggy. Above the bed, the figure froze, and relaxed again.

"Alphonse," came Hohenheim's voice, just above a whisper. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"It's okay," Al told him drowsily. "Are you hurt, too?" in his brain, this question made sense. But now out in the open, it made Hohenheim laugh. Alphonse liked the sound of his father laughing. He couldn't remember having ever heard it before.

"I'm fine. Major Armstrong told me he brought you boys here - looks like they're taking good care of you."

His eyes were trying harder to focus now, and he could see that his father was smiling. Inexplicably, he longed for older times, for impossible times, when he and his brother and mother and father could've all been smiling together. But if the last five years had taught him anything, it had taught him that longing for the lost was a fool's errand.

"I'm glad you're here," Al said, and reached out his hand. His father caught it in both of his and squeezed. After a thick silence, Hohenheim choked and said,

"I am too." He ran a thumb over the edges of Alphonse's fingernails, filed short and tidy, and then reached out to brush a hand over his hair, which was still damp from his bath. "It suits you," he said. Alphonse's eyelids fluttered. He remembered falling asleep like this as a child, with his mother brushing her fingers through his hair. "I'm so proud of you, Alphonse." It made him smile, even as his eyes drifted shut. "Take care of your brother for me."

That struck a flat note. Alphonse wrenched his eyes open again, and found the strength to lift his head. "You're leaving?"

"Just for a bit," Hohenheim put out an apologetic hand. "I'm doing no good here. I'm not injured, they need all the space they can get for those who are."

"But… your philosopher's stone," Al made the connections groggily, "can't you help…?"

"No, not anymore."

"Oh."

"They've cut off all communications in and out of Central," Hohenheim told him. "Pinako and Miss Rockbell will be sick with worry for you boys. I'm going to Resembool, to tell them you're both alright."

"Oh." Alphonse wished he could come up with something better to say. "It'll be good to see them smile again," he mused wistfully, and Hohenheim smiled himself.

"Yes, it will."

"Thank you, dad." His eyes were pulling themselves shut again, that mysterious, luxurious pool pulling him offshore to float away.

"Go to sleep, son. I'll see you at home." Alphonse could never be completely sure, but as he fell asleep, he thought he felt his father kiss him on the forehead.

They rested. They mended. After six days, they let Alphonse eat real food. After ten, they let him eat twice a day. And after three weeks, they let him eat whatever he wanted - within reason, anyway.

"Chicken pot pie, pork dumplings, strawberry strudel, tea, sausages, eggs, and bacon?" Ed read off his brother's order with rising incredulity. "What kind of breakfast is… and milk? I know you're starving, Al, but this is too far!"

Alphonse only laughed. In the end, they didn't grant all of his requests, but he got a hefty plate of eggs and bacon and and an early dessert of strudel. They also brought him a pot of tea and a whole pint of milk to drink at his leisure.

"Do you want some, brother?" Alphonse raised the milk jug with a pristine innocence that only younger siblings can manage. Edward's whole body seemed to grow spikes.

"Are you insane?"

"That's okay," Alphonse drank deeply and came away with a white mustache. "It's not like I have any catching up to do - I'm already taller than you."

Edward screeched, and Alphonse finished eating with a smile on his face.

By the time they headed back home, the Elric brothers were in high spirits. Saying goodbye to Central and all of their comrades and friends had been hard, but seeing Lieutenant Havoc and Colonel Mustang healed had been a massive boost.

Teacher had even cried when she hugged them goodbye, and then threatened to kill them if they said anything about it. Sig, weeping openly and silently at her side, gave Alphonse a bundle of home-cooked bacon to eat on the train home.

It was a long train ride, and a longer walk home, but then they were home, and Winry tackled them to the dirt and it was like nothing but everything had changed. Den barked and ran circles around them until they were all the way inside. Winry started crying nearly every time she looked at Alphonse. But then, Edward began to gloat,

"I told you they'd be tears of joy!" And suddenly Winry was no longer crying, and was throwing wrenches instead.

Alphonse peeled and cored apples for the pie Winry had already started preparing, and Granny cut out cold pats of butter for the crust. Amid the din of Winry and Edward's shouting, Alphonse became aware of an absence in the house he hadn't registered until that very moment. When the arguing died down and the house went quiet, Alphonse turned to Granny and asked,

"Where's dad?" The house seemed to slow to a halt. Alphonse looked between Granny and Winry, who'd both gone suddenly still. "He said he'd meet us here."

Pinako put down her knife and wiped her hands on her apron. She drew in a shaky breath. "Maybe you boys had better come with me."

"He didn't even make it to the house," Granny had kept her explanation short because of her own tears. "He came straight here. I think he knew he didn't have much time left. I didn't even get to say goodbye." She sniffed, a terrifying display of emotion for both boys. "I'm very sorry."

She left them to their thoughts, and the brothers sat in front of their parents' headstones for a long time.

"That bastard," Ed said after a long time, even though his eyes were shining with unshed tears, "of course he would leave just to kick the bucket. What a coward. What a," he wiped furiously at his eyes. "Damn rotten father."

Alphonse didn't say anything. He sat with his knees drawn up to his chest and stared at the name on the stone. He remembered the man in the hospital who'd said he was proud of him. "I'll see you at home." Surely he wouldn't have lied. Surely he hadn't meant for it to be like this.

"Ed, Al," it was Granny. The boys turned to her, and backlit by the setting sun, she was holding out two letters. "When I… found him, these were in his pocket. They're addressed to you."

Alphonse took his, and with more hesitation, Edward his. Granny left them alone. Edward and Alphonse glanced at each other, and then opened their letters and read silently each to himself.

Dear Edward,

Dear Alphonse,

I am writing this on the train from Central to Resembool. I did not want to have to write this – I wanted to be able to tell you all of this myself, in person, as I should have years ago. But I realize now that I do not have enough life in me to manage even that.

It was my blood that created the homunculus, all those years ago, and since the fall of Xerxes our lives have been intertwined as one. Now the homunculus has died, and I am living on borrowed time. I may not look it, but as I write, I am just shy of my four hundred and fifty-first birthday. It's absurd, isn't it? That I can be so ancient and only just now as I'm dying do I find a reason to keep on living.

I realize that I am not the father you deserve. In my determination to thwart the homunculus' plans, I abandoned you and your mother and I know I can never atone for that. I can only hope that you believe me when I tell you that your mother and you boys were all I ever wanted. You gave me all I could have ever needed. I am so proud of you.

...I have never seen a more noble sacrifice than your sacrifice for Alphonse. You are a far better man today than I have been in four and a half centuries. Trisha would be beside herself with pride if she could see the man you've become.

...You grow stronger each day, and each day, I see in you a man I wish I could have known better. You are wise beyond your years, and carry your mother's caring spirit into a world that needs it desperately. She would be so proud to see you now.

...I realize you want to hate me,

...I realize you wish you'd known me,

...And I understand why you feel that way, and do not blame you if you never stop,

...And I can assure you I wish I could have known you better all your life,

And I know that nothing I do will change my role in the pain you've suffered these past long years. But I hope, if nothing else, you can accept that in my profound imperfections, I loved you more than I could ever hope to tell you.

In deepest affection,

...Van Hohenheim

...Your Father

When Alphonse looked up, Edward was crying, too. Edward crumpled up his letter, shoved it in his pocket, and stomped off. Alphonse stayed with his parents.

"It's okay," he told his dad, trying to rub out the tears that had stained his own letter. "He's always like this."

Later, Alphonse went to Edward's room and knocked before letting himself in. He noticed their father's letter, wrinkled and torn, smoothed out on the desk and flattened under the only book they'd saved from their father's library.

"Winry's pie is almost ready to eat," Al told his brother quietly. Edward was sitting on his bed, staring out the window. In the distance, the green swell of the graveyard was just visible.

"Do you think he even knew how long he was gone?" Ed asked. Alphonse was taken aback.

"What?"

"If Hohenheim was as old as he said, do you think he even knew how many years had passed before he came back, to find mom dead, us without bodies?"

Alphonse hadn't ever thought of it. He sat down next to Edward on the bed and stared out the window.

"I don't know. Maybe." It was not quite dark out, and the countryside was awash in a dusky blue. Past the cemetery, a string of lights and smoke traced the path of the 7:00 train. Alphonse watched the smoke become clouds and fade into the atmosphere. "I think he loved mom. A lot." It was somehow uncomfortable to say so, but it soothed something deep in Alphonse's gut. "I think he loved us, too. I really think he did. He just…" he shrugged. "Didn't really know how. In his shoes, I'm not sure I would either."

"Hmm," was all Edward said. The two boys watched the sunlight disappear to reveal a world full of stars. Eventually, Edward glanced past Alphonse to see the clock, and his eyes stuck on his brother's hair.

"Your hair's growing out already," he gave it a rough tousle, and Alphonse complained. "You'll have to get it trimmed again soon."

"Better than leave it long," Alphonse combed his hair back into place, miffed. "I don't know how you stand it, brother."

"What can I say?" Edward shrugged, holier-than-thou, "it takes a certain stature to pull this off."

Alphonse rolled his eyes and was about to say something cruel about Ed's height, when Winry shouted across the house to announce,

"Apple pie is ready!"

Alphonse picked up his cane and zipped to the door in an instant. The stairs thumped and groaned as he practically fell into the kitchen, offering to whip cream and put out plates, and anything else that would help him get the pie to his mouth sooner rather than later.

Edward lagged behind and laughed. The night had transformed his window into a mirror, and he caught sight of his reflection as he stood to his feet. He resented the red rims on his eyes, the crusty tear tracks on his cheeks. He scrubbed them away. Then, he picked at the frayed mess of his hair, which was coming undone in all directions. He undid the hair tie and combed at it with his hands.

"We have the same look," Hohenheim had said, when they met at his mother's grave. Edward had braided his hair so fast, it'd been matted for days. He looked again at his reflection, and began to divide his hair into thirds.

"Edward! Do you want pie or not? Better come and get some before Al eats it all!"

"Hey!"

Edward hesitated before gathering his hair into a single, familiar ponytail.

"I'm coming!"

He closed the curtains on his reflection and joined his family downstairs.

[lalka-laski]

Have you had an argument with anyone recently and if so, do you still have issues with that person? My sister and I had a disagreement a few weeks ago. We are back to normal now but I'm still very sour about some of the remarks she made. And knowing I won't ever get an apology just adds salt to the wound. But that's how it is with her and I've accepted it. Are you talking to anyone while filling this in, or how about texting or chatting on Facebook? Glenn via FB messenger. And I have a few text groupchats going but I'm not participating in them much. I usually let the others do the talking and I only chime in when I really have the energy. Have you done something recently that helped someone else in any way? I just helped a client with several questions she had What kind of mood are you in at the moment and is someone else responsible for that mood? I'm so-so. Having a decent day but nothing spectacular.

Has someone of the opposite sex been getting on your nerves lately? Nah

Who was the last person that asked to hang out with you and what’s the story of how you met that person? Bev I believe. And we met in a Kenyan Literature class in college. If you knew that one of your friends was considering suicide, what would you say to them? I'd urge them to get professional help. Then I'd sit up with them as long as they needed, listening to them vent, reminding them how loved and appreciated they are, how devastated myself & many others would be if they were gone

Have you ever felt so depressed that you were struggling to carry on and if so, what would you say to someone else who was in that situation? Plenty of times. And honestly, I don't know what it was that kept me chugging along... Have you ever worn colored mascara and if not, would you ever think about trying it? Just black. I'm not into loud, colorful makeup. Although it looks great on other people! If you have, what is or was your favorite color to wear? Who was the last person to pay you a compliment? I've actually received a ton of compliments today from various patients! Everyone's showering me with kindness! Hey- I'll take it! What can you tell me about the shirt you’re wearing and is it one of your favorites? It's one of my favorite work shirts but not one of my favorite shirts altogether Is there anything that’s happened in the past month you wish you could go back in time and change? Nah, I don't play that game. What color is your purse and/or wallet? I have various purses but my wallet is light pink (go figure). What’s the closest item to you that’s black? M desk fan

Is there a certain name you think seems to have become really popular and you know lots of people with it? Any of the latest trendy names (most of which make me gag) What’s the most expensive item in your make-up bag? My Better than Sex mascara probably. Or my Clinique moisturizer if we're counting skincare products. Who was the last person of the opposite sex to text you and do you think that person’s attracted to you? Glenn, if we're counting FB messenger. And I think you could say he has a little crush on me :P Before Facebook became popular, did you use any other social networking site like Bebo or MySpace? MySpace, baby! Has anyone ever asked you out and you turned them down? Yes... I've declined far more proposals than I've accepted If so, did you feel guilty about it and why do you think you said “no”? Honestly, no. I don't owe any man my time or my energy. And I always turned them down politely and gently, so no reason to feel bad. I recognize that it takes courage to ask someone out however, that doesn't indebt me to you. Do you think when someone says, “I love you” that you are obliged to say it back? Not if you don't genuinely love that person. And I think it's horrible to say so dishonestly. I know it’s a depressing thought, but have you ever actually tried to imagine what the end of the world might be like? PLEASE that shit terrifies me to no end. I can't think about it or I'll spiral. Hard. Which Disney princess do you think is the most beautiful and why? Aurora because she's my girl and I'm biased! Someone tells you that you’re wasting your time with the person you love, so what do you say? Not a single person in my life would say that. It's evident to everyone how happy Glenn makes me and how much he enhances my life. Has anything happened in the last seven days that you’d like to forget? Meh When did you last hug someone of the opposite sex? Glenn Have you ever seen the film “Casablanca” and if so, did you like it? Nope, but I do think I'd like it if I ever got around to it If you’ve had a bad experience in a past relationship, did you find that you were scared to get into another relationship in case the same thing happened again? Oh God, yes. After my last boyfriend I was INSISTENT that I would never date again. Glenn happily proved me wrong but boy did it take me a LOOONG time to get there. Thank God for his patience. Are you friends with the last person you hugged, or something more? We're engaged so ya know, slightly more than friends. Do you ever post song lyrics as your Facebook status? I used to but I'm past that phase How many girls do you know with the name “Georgina”? None Do you drink alcohol on a regular basis or do you prefer to save it for special occasions? Yeah, maybe a little too regularly Do you have a relative whose name begins with “L” and if so, what can you tell me about them? I have a distant cousin named Lindsay. I've never met her in person but she seems like a cool girl and someone I could befriend. Did you play with Barbies when you were a kid, or did you prefer something else? Hell yeah! I loved my Barbies Are you a secretive person? A bit. But then other times, I overshare. When did you last eat? An hour or so ago Do you plan on kissing the last person you kissed again? I plan to every day for the rest of my life If I’m going to buy you a box of chocolates, which kind should I definitely not get? Milk chocolates. Solid is probably my favorite but I wouldn't mind truffles or something with peanut butter or SOFT caramel. If you met the celebrity that you most admire, what would be the first thing you’d say to them? I'd stutter and make a fool of myself Has anyone ever told you that you’re special and if so, do you think that person meant it? Glenn tells me all the time. But more importantly, he really makes me FEEL it and believe it. Is there something you generally always ask for help with? Untangling necklaces/cords/my phone charger lol If you had to give up your phone or your computer, which would it be? My computer Has anyone called you

“gorgeous” or “beautiful” today? Actually yes

[the2travel]

* World Travel Tips : Nervous About Flying This Summer? Blame Trump.

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Lately I have been thinking that the whole “obstruction of justice” issue that we are all focusing on has allowed President Trump and his supporters to evade the larger issue: what exactly is his relationship with the Russians all about and how much is it damaging our country?

I take exception to all the comparisons with Watergate. We all know that Watergate was about covering up a break-in into Democratic party headquarters. President Richard Nixon went down because he was caught on tape saying that the CIA should block the FBI from digging further into the break-in because he knew that following the trail would lead to the Oval Office and to him.

But even now no one argues that Nixon knew about the break-in, only that he directed the cover-up. Hence, obstruction of justice and Nixon’s resignation to avoid impeachment and, likely, conviction.

The Trump story is entirely different, as Monday’s New York Times reports. It’s not just the cover-up; it’s what he was covering up. More than that it is whether or not the president of the United States is working against the interests of our country, intentionally or not, out of some bizarre fealty to Russia.

The long investigative report by David Sanger and Eric Schmitt reveals that U.S. intelligence agencies have pretty much failed in their efforts to penetrate ISIS and thereby discover what the terrorist organization is planning in order to disrupt those plans. That is because “cyberwarfare techniques, first designed for fixed targets... must be refashioned to fight terrorist groups that are becoming more adept at turning the web into a weapon.” In other words, it’s a new day and U.S. and allied intelligence agencies are having a hard time keeping up.

But there is the occasional bit of good news too. According to the Times story, Israel has somehow figured out how to break into ISIS and eavesdrop on its plans. And they are sharing the information they gather with us.

According to the Times one of our “rare successes” against ISIS came when “top Israeli cyberoperators penetrated a small cell of extremist bombmakers in Syria months ago...That was how the United States learned that the terrorist group was working to make explosives that fooled airport X-ray machines and other screening by looking exactly like batteries for laptop computers.”

The Times called the Israeli intelligence “exquisite” because it “enabled the United States to understand how the weapons could be detonated...”

The result was the ban on laptop computers, iPads and other electronic devices (larger than cell phones) from being carried on to international flights from ten countries. The ban might be extended or dropped depending on future intelligence gathered from ISIS sources.

But how will we get that intelligence, given that the hole in ISIS’s communication system that was uncovered by the Israelis could now be blocked due to the actions of President Trump.

Trump, who had pledged during his campaign to redouble the war against ISIS, instead gave it an invaluable gift when, at a May 10 Oval Office meeting, he bragged to Russia’s foreign minister and its ambassador to the United States that we know all about ISIS’s plan to take down airliners by using laptops and iPads as weapons. The Russians, of course, are close allies of Syria and Hezbollah, both of which have their own convoluted relationships with the Islamic State, ensuring that the secret Israeli intelligence op is secret no more. And all thanks to Trump.

How bad is this? Former Yale Law professor, Alan Dershowitz, had it exactly right when he told CNN that if Trump did spill the beans to the Russians, it is the “most serious charge ever made against a sitting president of the United States.” When Dershowitz said that it was only a charge but now it has been confirmed by Trump himself.

During his visit to Israel in late May Trump responded to a reporter who asked him if he had given the Israeli intelligence to the Russians. His response: “Just so you understand, I never mentioned the word or the name Israel in conversation. Never mentioned it.”

That, of course, was all the confirmation anyone needed. No one had accused him of telling the Russians “I got this information from Israel.” The Russians could reverse engineer that fact for themselves. The key point was that Trump told them about the intelligence itself. A few days later he tweeted that he had the “absolute right” to share any information he chose to with the Russians. Or anyone else, one assumes.

Now imagine if former President Obama or would-be President Hillary Clinton gave our secret intelligence about our worst enemy in the world, ISIS, to the Russians. Imagine how quickly impeachment proceedings would begin. Imagine how the word “treason” would be shouted from Fox News and from other outlets as well. Imagine the shame and despair of Democrats who, as Americans, would be appalled that the candidate they supported had behaved with such, at best, recklessness and dishonor.

But, of course, the president isn’t Obama or Clinton. It’s Trump and for his supporters in Congress and his voters in the heartland, everything he does is fine. Even if it makes getting on an airplane a lot scarier than it should be, along with everything else. After all, he’s not the black guy and he’s not the woman. That’s all they need to know.

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